Atta-Boys

Self-congratulatory pats on the back aren't quite the same as atta-boys and accolades from an outside source.  I certainly do not lack support from many sources, but I'm getting a particular kick these days from the unofficial mutual cheering section my friend Linda in Seattle and I have formed.  Points are given for accomplishments during the day; some days my only point comes from just getting out of bed.  She's ahead in the game right now, but I gave it a good college try yesterday (can I get a rah, rah here?!).  My side of the barn is a hodge-podge mess of barrels and bags of feed, garden supplies and implements, shelves with craft stuff that I might need someday, completed craft projects, stored things that will probably never be used like three feet of plastic yard edging or fifteen empty coffee cans but one never knows, the droppings of generations of mice, as well as everything that Thing threw off shelves onto the floor.  I've been in the slow process of gathering outside trash for a dump run, stuff that is too big to take to the big road for Trash Guy.  Not cool, but cool-er, Bess and I went out to make a frontal attack on "my side."  I broke down the pile of empty boxes tossed into the corner, filled several big trash bags with glass jars (not to worry, there are more in the other sheds) and stored egg cartons destroyed by said mice and used for nesting, and swept up a ton of mouse droppings.  Chewed styrofoam floated through the room like snowflakes.  Two hours and dripping sweat, I called it quits.  I'd like to say the job is finished.  I'd like to, but I can't.  I'll go out again when I'm desperate for points and work on the other three-fourths of the room.  Who knows, the time might even come when I'll be ready to take on Steve's part of the barn, but not in the foreseeable future.  Linda did give me a good score for the day, and that was enough.

Celeste and Ralph are indoor cats.  I know that cats do very well if they never set foot outdoors, but they do enjoy a salad now and again.  Kathy V. had given me some barley seed (she grows it in quantity to feed her goats).  I'd not gotten around to setting up the growing trays she'd suggested, but did plant a pot's worth out on the deck to see if the seed would germinate.  Once sprouted, the barley grew at an amazing rate of over an inch a day.  Yesterday I put the pot on the counter by their bowl and within minutes both cats were chomping away.  They didn't seem to miss the Roquefort dressing.

A very chill breeze is blowing in right now and, at nearly 7 a.m., there is no sign of sunrise.  Could it be that the predicted rain might actually come today?  If so, it's going to be a good day.  Atta-boy, weatherman!!