This place was crawling with working men yesterday. Shortly after barn chores, Beau drove up on his big(!) John Deere and used the ripper on the back and the blade in front to take down and then smooth the mound of now-composted weeds he'd left when he scraped the west field last summer. Little John Dear can do a lot, but he can't climb mountains. Beau came in for a cold drink and a chat so he got to meet Clay when he arrived. After Beau tootled off down the road to help Camille with a similar situation (it's nice to be needed), working-man Clay went to work.
As soon as the doors were off, I took out a gas can to give John a drink. We had a conversation about telling the truth so he doesn't get left out in the elements again, and then I tucked him under cover where he belonged. I'm pretty sure he was repentant.
Because I enjoy Clay's company so much, I stayed outside to talk. I'm never certain if I'm a help or a hindrance in a case like this, so soon went in to start a meal so Clay could concentrate on measurements, etc. I've always had a bad reputation for making fried chicken (either burnt and dry or not quite cooked through - chicken is sneaky that way) but decided to try a new method. I didn't have a recipe, so I was winging it. After dredging the pieces in flour, I dipped them in a fairly thick flour, milk, garlic powder and a little cayenne batter before frying in hot oil until crispy and brown, then finished in the oven. Mashed potatoes and cream gravy with mixed vegetables on the side completed the menu. All I could do was hope for the best. Clay had been forewarned. To my relief, my made-up method hit the mark and we agreed the chicken was really good.
Break time over, Clay went back to work. The weather cooperated fully and it was another beautiful day, perfect for working outside.
I forgot to mention that Snake had vacated the goat barn. Clay has a variety of snakes at home (he goes for the really big guys) and said I'd guessed right, that Snake was simply digesting a meal.
With the goats' bedtime approaching, the barn doors were up and finished. What a pleasure to have them meet in the middle, both sides able to open, and the latch close without my jerry-rigged arrangement of Carabiner clips. It's been a long time. Clay took his hefty supply of Good Son points and headed home.
It was a good day.