For the past week I've been in an every-day battle with the one ground squirrel who is not willing to wait his turn. He sneaks into the milking room to steal grain from the mice. When he shows up on my right, I squirt him with the ammo at hand. Sometimes he comes back four or five times and ends up drenched with milk. When he creeps through a tunnel on my left, he's close enough for me to bat at with my hand. Again and yet again. I will give him P for Persistent. He knows good and well that I put down a helping for the squirrels as soon as I'm finished with all other chores in the barn, but he will not get a P for Patient. Squirrels have a unique way of leaving a placeholder instead of standing in line. I have to admire their control, as they will leave exactly one drop of pee or one pellet of poop (which I pitch) to mark the bowl. Yesterday, these two greedy Gus's were waiting even before I put down the feed. They dove in before I'd had a chance to step away. I don't know whether it's lack of fear or respect, but I think they're funny.
A pretty good wind kicked up in the afternoon. Later than usual, I threw in a load of laundry, hung it out, and everything was dry by sundown. Nothing quite like fresh windblown and sun-dried sheets to slide between at night.