I can see the headlines now: "Goat Lady Lost In Sinkhole In Fair Play." Weird stories about sinkholes have been in the news lately, and they've been attributed to water or weak rock foundations or some such. If it happens here, I'll know the real reason. The ground squirrels in (under) the barn have come out of hibernation and have kicked their underground activities into high gear. Stepping into the milking room yesterday, an unseen tunnel collapsed and my foot sank up to the ankle. Every day there are more holes and mounds of freshly dug earth, first in one room and then another. I refill the holes. They dig bigger holes. The milking stand took an alarming tilt as Sheila jumped up when one of the stand legs suddenly dropped four inches. Sheila didn't care; she was intent on getting her breakfast. I couldn't lift the stand with a goat too and she wasn't about to get down, so it sure made milking a challenge. From the size of the holes in the mini-stall where the feed barrel is kept, it looks like we are being invaded by excavating elephants. Elephants with attitudes! I push the dirt back into the hole in the morning and again into the bigger hole at night. It's like I'm being flipped off, and it's becoming a test of wills. Ground squirrels are little creatures, certainly not as big as the grey tree squirrels, but, boy, are they determined.
Two women WWOOFers from Canada are due here tomorrow for the farm experience. I'm going to hand them a shovel and let them have at it.