I was so happy to see Dale Earnhardt, Jr., win the big race at Talladega. He's not "my" driver (poor old Bowyer got wrecked in the last lap), but there's something so appealing about a guy who tries so hard and never says quit.
The day went pretty much as I thought it would. Did barn chores, watched the race, went to the feed store, and filled the hummers' feeders. It seems like every time I look out the window, those tiny birds have emptied the bottles again. Two quarts a day are not enough and they're getting so bossy as to bang on the glass to get my attention and demand better service. I'm always at someone's beck and call. Turkeys holler under the oak to let me know they're ready for breakfast and what's the hold up, lady? Chickens race to the fence when I pass by with buckets, saying they'd like some milk to go with their cereal. Ralph and Celeste's feed bowl is up on a counter and they reach out and grab my shoulder when the kibble is getting low. It goes without saying that Bessie Anne is a short, furry tyrant. I've opened the door four times for her so far this morning and boosted her up on the bed thrice.
My dance card is filling up. Dave and I have been talking about a work day to replace storm doors and repair the barn roof. He has recruited some of his biker friends to come help the Club Momma in a couple of weeks. Yesterday I found out that the whole famdamily will be coming up to join the crew, as well! Not only that, my Kids will all be here next weekend for a play day. This was not expected, but welcome? oh, you bet!