Good News, Bad News, Good Again

Standing by Cindy's side, waiting for her to finish her breakfast (she's a nonmilker), I looked down and thought, "Holy cow!  That's a mouse on steroids!"  No, it was Gary Gopher, back after a long absence.  Oblivious to my presence, Gary made trip after trip to fill his cheek pouches.  He was cleaning up leftovers from the mice and I had no problem with that.

I did have a problem, however, with Miss Inga.  The routine has gone smoothly for quite awhile and I'd been lulled into a false sense of security.  It would be a day when the Kids were coming up that she chose not to come into the milking room.  No amount of wheedling, begging, or cussing would bring her in and I didn't have time to walk the pen in hopes of catching her.  On your head be it, Inga.  See ya tomorrow.

How I love to look out the kitchen window and see my Kids drive up.  It is a three-day weekend and I feel quite honored that they shared a precious day off with me.  Deb and Craig are my personal big-box store shoppers and had brought a case of diaper wipes.  I had to explain to Craig why he had to go in the back door to the feed shed where the wipes are stored, the front door being held shut by a weight and a wedge of cardboard because of the last storm.  Dave and Bird rode up while Deb and Craig were lunching on onion-and-bacon pie.  The guys, and other members of Freed Spirits, had stopped for a burger at Bones.  Dave and Bird gathered some tools and dismantled the two broken storm doors and fixed the inner door to the feed shed so it can once again open and close (yay!).  Dave came in with a good news-bad news scenario.  The extra storm door I'd bought (that didn't fit the feed shed) would definitely fit the first shed (good news), but due to some technical difficulties with the siding (bad news), could not be installed without Larry's expertise.  Another excuse to see the Kids again was good news for me.

One of the biggest favors of the day was Dave setting up and teaching me how to use the drill press.  Ohmigosh!  It took seconds to do what I've been struggling with for weeks on The Project.  There's hope!  In addition to instruction on the operation of the drill and making sure I could do it on my own, Dave took time to explain potential dangers, one of which being metal splinters in the eye, and suggested safety glasses.  Rummaging through cupboards and drawers, I found these oh-so-stylish goggles.  There is great freedom in being old enough not to care how silly one appears.  Looking like an indoor scuba diver was a crackup, and Craig titled this "Safety first."

The bikers rumbled off down the drive, careful not to drop into a chasm, and Deb and Craig left shortly thereafter.  "Love you!" was still echoing when Celeste came out of hiding, elusive girl that she is.

Gosh, it was a good day.