Herrre's Ginger!

Back in the routine last evening, Ginger came running around the feed barn as soon as she heard the cart coming up the drive.  Bessie stood and waited for her and they waited together for me to catch up.  (The hill is always steeper on the way up.)  I'd felt bad in the morning because some night thing had run off with Ginger's mouse; it's not for me to say whether it was a trophy mouse.

Instead of following me, now Ginger leads the way to the gate.  Who's training whom here?

One might ask why there is a sink by the hen house.  That's pretty close to what I asked Steve when he brought it home.  That man was constitutionally unable to pass a pile of trash without gleaning some treasure.  This place is chock-a-block with treasures.  I think I mentioned that he once had sixteen (16!) used wooden garage doors delivered to our house in the valley.  "They were just throwing them out!"  He did find a use for the doors, but the sink has lain out there by the coop for many, many years.  The saying goes, "Everything but the kitchen sink."  Well, I've got the sink.

I'm a fine one to talk.  Steve couldn't pass up "good trash."  I'm not about to miss a sunset.

It was a good day.