Barn Stories

Squint called in reinforcements yesterday, and he developed a new plan of action.  He sent Tip in first to scout the territory and take the first hit.  Tip is missing the top portion of one ear, a casualty of some previous battle.  Tip got blasted with a stream of milk.  Before I could "reload," Squint darted in for a morsel of grain and back out again.  Tip wasn't about to be suckered in twice as a diversionary tactic and took off for dryer ground.  Squint has learned that if he waits until the udder is almost empty to make a raid (I think he listens for the sound in the bucket), instead of getting hit with a fire-hose stream, the faucet just goes phfft, phfft, phfft.  It is irritating when a squirrel talks with his mouth full and says, "Take your best shot, lady," and I'm out of ammo.

I loaded up the truck in the afternoon and Cam and I took off to participate in my friend Tim's Farm Product sale.  He's been planning an event like this for some time.  He'd invited a number of vendors and had buyers lined up.  Well, it was one of those times when "the best laid plans of mice and men oft gang astray."  The eight people there, not counting a few children, included Tim and his lady, Kathryn, Tim's mom, an old friend from the Bay Area (people from the Bay always capitalize their Area), Tim's vet and his wife, and Cam and me.  Cam and I were the vendors, the only vendors.  Not the crowd he'd hoped for and, sadly, none of the other invitees had the courtesy to tell him they would not be coming.  He and Kathryn had set up in the breezeway of his barn and there was, indeed, a wonderful breeze.  A three-day-old goat kid ran around to amuse the Kids and his Anatolian guard dog, Alice, barked an accompaniment from the stall where she'd been locked in.  Alice takes her guard duties seriously and thus is not people friendly.  We'd been asked to contribute to a potluck luncheon; Tim providing home-grown porkchops studded with garlic.  It really was a lovely way to spend an afternoon in good company.  As it turned out, Cam sold all of her eggs and I made a considerable profit from my foccacia and cheese, bringing back one small loaf and trading the last two small packages of cheese to Cam for sugar for the hummers.

It was a good day.