If I Had A Hammer

"If I had a hammer, I'd hammer in the morning; I'd hammer in the evening...."  Peter, Paul, and Mary harmonize this old song in my head as I pound nails back into the deck.  It's a job that has to be done every couple of years because those who built the deck didn't plan ahead and use screws.  The boards are in a constant state of flux, expanding and contracting in the wind, rain, and sun, and over time the nails work up out of the wood.  When the Kids were younger and I needed some "alone" time, I would go out and weed the yard; if they approached, they might be asked to help.  My current supervisors (Bess and the cats) find other ways to occupy themselves as I tunk along the deck.  I'm not sure if it's the noise or the vibrations, but they definitely make themselves scarce while I'm working.

The BG (before goats) job now is to get more of the split wood stacked in preparation for winter.  Like pounding nails, I try to get a bit done every morning.  When I went later to Mt. Aukum for feed, as well as more fuel for the mower, I asked for and was given more wooden pallets.  In the past, I've been reluctant to use these to stack the wood, thinking it might provide hiding places for rattlesnakes.  I realize now that the ground squirrels will waste no time burrowing underneath and filling the gaps with mounded dirt and my worries are for naught.

The warm days and cool nights have sent the goats into their estrus cycles and the pen is a hotbed of PMS.  The girls are cranky and the least little thing will start a fight.  When not head-butting or body-slamming, one or the other will just stand and yell, tail fluttering like a flag in a high wind.  Nineteen knows what is expected and he certainly does his best to help but, lacking the necessary equipment, he just adds to the general frustration.  Twenty-Two stands on the sidelines as if he's walked into Bedlam.

Like the rest of the critters on this place, I'm attuned to daylight hours.  My day is done at sundown; a couple of hours after dark and I think it's bedtime.  What the heck, it's only eight-thirty?  Unlike the animals, I can't sleep through until sunup.  It's enough that I wake up around five now.  Eyelids dropped early last night as I sat in the chair, waking later to go to bed.  Today started at four; what am I going to do when the time changes and I get up at three a.m.?