In Cahoots

I think it is possible that the weather forecasters have colluded with Nature in a plot to get me off my duff and getting things done.  They keep dangling the threat of rain, moving its arrival back a day, and then another day.  Aarrgh.  There is a portion of the woodpile that is not under tarp.  Wet wood doesn't burn, it smokes.  Smoke makes creosote in the chimney, and that is to be avoided.  Day after day I've brought wagons of firewood to the porch to keep it dry.  The rack is nearly up to the top now, and I've got the sore muscles to show for it.  And no rain.

If it stays dry today, I've promised myself to bring in the Christmas tree and some decorations.  I'm starting to feel like Scrooge or the Grinch, and guilt is a great motivator.  Television is playing a big part in this as all the traditional Christmas movies are playing...over and over and over.  Even the cooking shows are showcasing holiday menus.  It's a plot, I tell you.

The goats are getting confused and probably are losing confidence in me.  They used to know that if I left the play yard open in the morning, they could expect rain sometime during the day.  Listening to the forecasters and wanting to do good by the girls, I keep leaving the gate open for them.  And no rain.

Part of my lack of enthusiasm, I know, is because, due to one health issue or another in the family, I can't do all the holiday baking that I used to.  Nothing like day after day of the aroma of cookies, cakes, and breads in the house to get into the spirit.

Oh well.  Like it or not and regardless of the reasons, I'm getting things done.  And that's a good thing.