Wouldn't You Know?

Nature is about as perverse as they come.  After such a prolonged dry spell, wouldn't you just know that rain is predicted for Thursday next week?  Couldn't she wait another day or two and let company come and go on a dusty, dry dirt road instead of slushy mud?  Ratchafratch.  I'm certainly not complaining about the prospect of long-awaited, much needed rain, only the timing.  She does love to play dirty tricks.

I did get the hole(s) in the chicken pen filled yesterday.  In addition to the cavern in the yard, there was a smaller one inside the coop.  If any of the girls had laid an egg, if would have rolled down that chute right into a waiting mouth.  I put an end to that curb service.

Missy is filling out nicely.  She'll probably never be plump as she's a busy, busy girl, but at least her ribs aren't sticking out anymore.  She comes running up the path to meet me every morning and, boy, does she know the routine.  She leads the way to the barn and we go into the milking (now feeding) room.  She jumps up on the stand while I fill Sheila's bowl with cereal that she won't eat and Li'l Miss goes in circles until she gets a good petting.  The she leads the way back to her stall (in case I forget) so I can fill her dish.  Her mission accomplished, she purrs loudly while she chows down on breakfast.  At night when the goats are out, she just waits in her room for dinner.  There's no guaranty she'll stick around, but I think she's here for the winter.

True to form, after the stress of shopping yesterday was a day off.  I've got to get off my rusty-dusty today and get ready for guests next week, including bringing firewood to the porch.  Flatlanders don't tolerate cold very well.