Glancing out the window in the morning, I immediately heard Willie Nelson singing one of his theme songs. To paraphrase, "Out of food again. Oh good grief, they're out of food again!" All three of the hummers' feeders were empty. I cannot keep up with the demands of those tiny guzzlers. They've gone through over thirty pounds of sugar already, and I've got a twenty-five pound sack waiting.
It barely reached 70 yesterday, a day that commanded deck time. Bessie and I were happy to comply.
Cam came by in the afternoon to share her day of good news, always nice to hear. We talked until near sundown and we both had animals to tend. There was but dim light in the feed room, so I was cautious when I noted that the lid was off the chicken scratch. The last time that happened there were three little fat mice in the barrel. I found out for sure that I don't scream. I bellowed when I reached in and Thing tried to run up my arm.