I'm about ready for a do-nothing day, but a trip to town was mandatory yesterday. Among grocery staples, I needed to buy new brooms. I prefer the old-time straw brooms, and so does Thing. Until Thing (aka Destructo) moved in and went (make that goes) on a daily rampage, I had a straw broom in the feed room to keep it neat and tidy, or a semblance thereof. What I have now is a broom handle with perhaps seventeen straws. The straws couldn't be tasty and they must be too stiff to line a nest, so I can only think Thing is purely vindictive. The room itself is a complete disaster: supplies flung from shelves, broken Christmas ornaments, a hanging bag of packing noodles or whatever they're called torn open and the contents strewn, Thing's calling cards here and there; as I said, a disaster. The room is overdue for a major, major cleanup and a dump run, but I needed a broom. I don't know if it will work, but I bought a broom with a plastic brush(?). A gal's gotta try. Oh, the second broom is for the front porch. While not gnawed, over time and weather the straw has taken a definite sideways bend and it is unwieldy and inefficient.
Multiple brooms, multiple tools. Basic tools are everywhere here: in the breakfast room, in the kitchen, in the upper barn (both middle and the feed room), and in the goat barn. Specialty tools are in the workshop downstairs. This place is so spread out and there's nothing worse than to need a hammer or a screwdriver (or a broom) in a hurry and have to go up, down, or over to find one. There are times that Steve's penchant for hoarding pays off.
I'm in danger of becoming one of "those" people. We all know them, head down, eyes glued to the tiny screen, fingers tip-tapping away. I'm still discovering the delights of my cellphone and had to tear myself away to go to the store. It's a good thing I'm on a 30-foot tether, the limit of my WiFi, so I won't be one of those people out in public.
The sun starts to rise about five these days, so I'm trying to get on the move earlier and let the girls out of the barn. With only the three chomping away, the weeds are getting the upper hand, almost knee high now and I want to give the girls more time outside.