No Use Crying

Two squirts away from finishing up with Sheila yesterday, I was able to block her from putting a foot in the bucket, but the tip of her toe caught the edge and spilled three-quarters of a gallon of milk all over me and my clean bibbies.  I can't win.  At least I had another clean pair to put on so it wasn't a rerun of the day before.

Without thought, I've slipped into summertime mode...trying to get as much done as possible before going to the barn (and I've moved up milking time to avoid some of the heat), napping through the worst heat of the day, not doing much of anything in the afternoons, and staying up later to enjoy the evening cool.  It's the time of year when I don't pass a water bowl or trough without topping it up, just in case we lose power.  I put out a couple of pans of water for the wild things...the turkeys can empty a pan in a day, and I assume the ground squirrels and birds slurp up their share, too.  The hummers are out in full force, fifty or more at a time, and I'm putting out over two quarts of their juice a day, buying twenty or thirty pounds of sugar at a time.  I wonder if I can claim them as dependents.  All my plant life must be watered by hand.  The DCG (decomposed granite) soil won't hold water, so that's a daily chore come summer.  Fortunately, it doesn't require a lot of energy.  The weathermen are forecasting a cooling trend, down to the low nineties.  Whoopee.  Hot is hot.