"Baa, baa, black sheep. Have you any wool?" "Yes, sir, yes sir, three bags full." Inga has only one bag, but it was full of milk yesterday. Spraddle-legged, she waddled into the milking room without hesitation. We both paid the price for her playing hooky the day before. It took forever to get her emptied, and my fingers were cramping by the time I'd finished the third girl.
I shouldn't point even a cramped finger at Inga. I've played the last couple of days myself. Blowing off a day at the movies was bad enough, but then I buried my nose in a book yesterday and couldn't get it out until the last page was turned just before evening chores. I know better; it's that self-control thing again that seems to be left out of my DNA. I should have gone to the feed store. I should have brought firewood to the porch. The list of what I should have done is pretty lengthy. I will pay for it today. Rain is due again on Friday and there are those things that must be done before it comes and I'd best get my rear in gear and go for it.
I did not turn on TCM yesterday and I will not pick up that new book today. Scout's honor. Well, it's been a long time since I've been a Girl Scout but, as I recall, the oath only promises to try. I will try not to pick up the book, sunshine on the deck notwithstanding. The price for another play day is adding up and I haven't got a lot in reserve.