It was a day filled with minutiae. I got so interested while watching a mouse I almost forgot to keep milking Inga. The mouse was on a rope hanging by the barn door and was determined to peek through a small hole in the wall that was just out of reach. Mouse hung precariously, trying every which way to stretch far enough, in constant danger of falling. Tiring, it would climb back up to rest on the beam, then back down again for another try. What in the world was going on in that little mouse brain?
On any given day, Cindy is the most vocal of all the goat girls. If Ruth had advertised when she was looking for a boyfriend, Cindy is printing it all in caps. She stood most of the day by the gate to the pen, calling for Prince Charming. (Prince Charming is the stud goat of a rancher I know.)
Ground squirrels, notable by their absence of late, have returned to the barn. Their place in the pen has been taken by voles. At least their burrows are smaller. I'm still hauling in buckets of dirt to fill the chasm under the milking stand. This actually tends to another need. I dig dirt from trenches designed to divert runoff from flooding the barn when it rains.
I'm happy to report that Frank is fully recovered from his muscle strain and has nary a sign of a limp.
Earle came to pick up his weekly supply of milk and eggs. When he heard I'd be selling some tools, he raced down to the shop for a preview. I swear, it's a Guy Thing. He latched on to some wood-working clamps and put a couple of items on his wish list if The Crew doesn't take them. He later came back for a load of goat poop, and went back down for the rest of the set of clamps.
I was gifted a big box of local apples recently, shortly after receiving a recipe for apple cake from my niece in New Hampshire. What the heck, I thought I'd give it a try since I had the major ingredient on hand. Turned to be the best apple cake I've ever made or had. I've got The Crew coming up this weekend, so I'll be doing more baking, for sure. The recipe used four apples. Ninety-six more in the box. Hmmm.
I watched a documentary on a sloth sanctuary. Sloths come in two-toed and three-toed varieties. Sloths race around at five feet a minute; get out of the way at rush hour! Cindy and Ruth (et al) can't hold a candle to a female sloth in heat. Those girls let out a constant high-pitched howl that can be heard for a mile. The most interesting fact to me was that as mother's milk is impossible to provide for orphaned baby sloths, they are fed goat milk!
And that's all the news for the day.