The routine went to pot yesterday. I had bought feed the day before but forgot to bring the handcart up from the barn. Consequently, I had to go down in the morning to get it. The girls saw me coming. "She's coming! Here She comes!" (They all call me She.) Putting the buckets in the milk room and going around to the hall to get the handcart, I then headed back up the hill.
"Oh no! There She goes! Why is She leaving us? We haven't had our breakfast. Hey! Hey, lady! What about us? Don't leave us!" Goats in a panic get very vocal, and these girls were really giving me what-for. Their relief when I came back trundling the big bag of grain was almost palpable. I pretended nothing had happened and went on into the daily routine. Each of the girls came in as expected and Cindy even tried to cut in line ahead of Tessie, she was so anxious for her meal. Note to self: bring the handcart back to the feed barn before it's needed.
I dare not think about the time change this year. I have never been this screwed up with just the sun coming up later. My circadian rhythm has taken over big time and it's really messing up my day. I wake up thinking, like the White Rabbit, "I'm late! I'm late!," and I am. I'll probably hear about that down in the barn.