Barn Roombas

I watch milk flow into the bucket.  I watch the mice pick the choicest pieces of grain and slurp their breakfast drink.  I watch the squirrels push mice out of the way.  I watch the clouds drift overhead and the goats either eat alfalfa peaceably or headbutt up at the corner, and the turkeys march along the drive.  Mainly, I watch the cadre of black beetle-like bugs in the barn.  Little armor-plated R2D2s, these insects move slowly and methodically like robots as they cruise around the edges of the room and up and down the walls.  They go in and out of mice burrows and squirrel holes.  Once in awhile I'll see them hauling a piece of something or other, but I truly have no idea of their purpose.  They're very busy, always on the move, but I don't know why.  If I could organize and train them to pick up just one pellet of goat poo each and take it out to the dung pile, my workday would be so much easier.

I did, in fact, get the front yard mowed before barn chores yesterday.  It didn't take long for the morning to heat up, and the girls and I were all happy to get out of the barn as soon as possible.  I received calls, cards, and texts from those near and dear to me, some of whom live far, far away, and I was made to feel very, very special.  Spiffed up (clean jeans), I went with Camille to do a spot of shopping before being treated to dinner at a Mexican restaurant.  I enjoyed the meal and the company very much, and was made to feel very, very silly wearing a huge sombrero while all the waiters sang a birthday song.  Ole!

It was a very, very good day.