Before leaving the house, I do the Fair Play version of the macarena. Pat the left bibbie pocket for cigarettes and lighter; pat the right bibbie pocket for camera; pat right pants pocket for cell phone; lift one foot or the other to make sure I've got on barn shoes or go-to-town shoes as appropriate...go! It can be somewhat embarrassing if it's one of those rare occasions when I'm not wearing bibbies and appear to be patting inappropriate places for no good reason. Yes, even in the face of advice to the contrary, I still smoke. I have so few vices left, I tend to hang on to those I can.
Nineteen is a whiner. Tessie is still at camp, and he complains about it every day. He has breakfast in his room while I milk and feed the girls, and even with his mouth full he whines the entire time. It doesn't help that the girls are cycling again, and when freed, he rushes out to see who is the flavor of the day.
The barn mice have had new litters, and tiny little ones are showing up at the breakfast buffet. While I do enjoy their company while milking, the one that ran up my arm yesterday when I opened the grain bucket lid did cause me to yelp. How did that little sucker get in there in the first place?!
The crows are back, raucous birds that they are. The barn birds, some kind of sparrow, have also returned. There is another kind of bird in the barn, also. It's larger than the sparrows, and a soft, uniform grey-brown. I think of it as the Margalo bird (from Stuart Little).
The newly hatched chicks stand around on the sidelines like kindergartners thrust into a class of second-graders, watching the older chicks to see what to do and how to do it. It only takes a day or two for them to catch on and learn the rules. Poor Yuki, stuck on the nest, is fair game for Musashi and he has his way with her while she squawks, "Don't squash the eggs, you fool!"
Yesterday's squall dumped a load of hail just at daybreak, the wind driving it into drifts on the deck like snow. The sun came out later, but drifting clouds dropped the temperature enough to make it uncomfortable to sit on the deck and read. Bessie Anne and I opted to stay in the house and keep the wood stove stoked.
Aside from complete control of the TV remote, one of the benefits of living alone is that, if you choose to bake oatmeal-raisin cookies for dinner, no one tells you that you can't. I do eat healthy food...just not always at the same meal.
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My only question...would Steve have wanted the Oatmeal Cookies deep fried??? (I know...I DID mean it as a joke, BUT have you been to any big county fairs lately? They deep fry Oreos and Twinkies and anything that they think they can sell!!)
Never a dull moment at Farview - thanks for keeping me entertained.
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