The misty rain of the morning yesterday was lovely, but not terribly effective for anything more than making my hair kink up like a Brillo pad. I politely asked Dolly if she could please provide enough rain to at least wash the windshield on the truck. The goats were going to be unhappy anyway, and she might as well use her powers for the greater good. After all, if a little is good, more is better (although there is also the problem of too much of a good thing). Waving goodbye, she promised to try.
It rained all day, a gentle, soaking rain that settled the dust, washed the trees, watered the plants, and cleaned my windshield well. In fact, it is still raining this morning. I'm saying that woman has the power!
It was a great day to stay in the house, kick back and do a bit of nothing. Camille and Honey stopped by in the afternoon. Camille had rescued a tiny kitten from somewhere and needed some goat milk for the waif until Animal Rescue (not the wildlife variety) could accept it today. As I've said before, goat milk is like Type O blood, a universal donor that almost any mammal infant can tolerate. (With the proviso that human babies should not be given raw milk of any type.)
Camille said Honey got all excited when the truck turned up the road and she knew they were coming here. Honey bounded in and went right to the treat box; she knows a good thing. Honey tries very hard to get her friend Bessie Anne to play games with her, bowing down on elbows in the traditional dog invitation to play or bumping Bess with her hips. Honey is at least six years younger with a lot more energy and Bess often declines. Honey will then flop down with a huge, lip-fluttering sigh and declare Bessie a dud as a playmate. Yesterday was an exception and the two dogs raced in circles through the house, playing hide-and-seek and tag until both were exhausted and Camille and I were roaring with laughter.
Great visits with both of my friends and rain, to boot. What more could one ask for?