Once again I was glad that no one lives within earshot of the barn because that dadratted Sheila tipped the bucket again and I lost it, bellowing my limited but colorful collection of cusswords as the white wave flowed over the milking stand. Man, she is quick, her aim is true, and her timing is exquisite. She was about ten squirts away from the finish so all my work dripped off the edge or sat in pools. Not the best way to start the day.
I'm such a weather wuss. Another thing I've lost are the cool days. It was over 80 yesterday. After winter, anything in the 50s is shirtsleeve weather, and when it goes to 70, I pop a sweat. Rain and a 30-degree drop in temperature are predicted for this weekend and, much as I might whine about it, I'm about ready for some rain.
I had to wait until 5 o'clock to bring out John Dear. John and I have not yet established a relationship. I don't think he likes taking orders from a female. I really miss good old Fu Manchu. On Fu, I could set the controls and let my mind wander and enjoy the scenery while we made the rounds. John is more like driving a car on a crowded freeway and I can't take my attention off him for a minute. We did manage to get part of the slope and most of the backyard mowed. I say "most" because I left patches of lupine that have sprung up this year. The Baby Blue-Eyes are finished blooming, but the lupine and purple vetch have taken their place and I do want to promote wildflowers. As a consequence, the yard looks like it had been mowed by a drunken sailor (no offense to the navy). We also managed to mow the front yard, and that about did it for me. Driving John is an upper-body workout and I was ready for a cool drink. I'd lost my cool enough yesterday.