Racing through barn chores (being careful not to trip again), washing buckets, getting a head start on lunch, and whipping through the living room with the vacuum cleaner, I barely made it under the wire before my friend came. Does it count that she arrived early? Candy is not only my friend, she is the only hairdresser I've trusted for years. Her shop is closed now, but, believe it or not, Candy makes house calls! Lest it be thought that I spend a lot of time in hair salons, I get a cut or trim every year or so, need it or not. Curly hair can get pretty unruly when left untended, but the goats don't care if I look like the wreck of the Hesperus. After the events of this past year, I felt the need for something different and told Candy to "go for it." She showed great restraint in not going radical, but did cut inches off my mop. I feel quite lightheaded now.
I have vowed no more company until Thursday. I've got to knuckle down and work on the house, period, end of story. I've been making a bit of progress every day, but not nearly enough. As Robert Frost wrote, "I've miles to go before I sleep." It's a race to the finish now.
BF Betty evidently has been feeling needy. She's missed getting picked up in the morning (I've been running short on time). The rest of the flock troops into the coop at sundown as usual, but as I'm shutting the doors, there's one hen still in the pen. It's Betty, and instead of allowing me to herd her inside, she waits until I pick her up for a nighty-night cuddle. She talks in a low voice. "Buck buck buck," she whispers. It's a very nice way to end the day.
It was a good day.