The Struggle Is Real

I had one heck of a time getting feed down to the girls yesterday.  I use a hand truck for transport, but first the 75-pound bag has to be dragged out of the truck, not always easy.  Then comes the trundle over uneven, sloping ground booby-trapped with squirrel holes.  Yesterday it was a struggle to get the truck through the gate into the pen because overgrown weeds on the inside were blocking the way.  It took some finagling, but ta da.  Down in the barn at last, there was one more hurdle.  There is no way I can deadlift that heavy bag, so it has to be moved as close as possible to the barrel and then about a third of the grain is transferred scoop by scoop until I can hoist the rest and dump it in.  They say where there's a will, there's a way, but some days are harder than others.  The girls didn't care as long as they got their breakfast.

Missy needs to step up her game.  I think the danged freeloading squirrels are coming in to share her kibble, something no self-respecting cat should allow.  We're going to have a talk about this.

I had planned to either go into town or mow, but aching muscles cancelled both plans.  It was a sit-down kind of day.