He's Back

I couldn't do it.  I could not make myself go into town again yesterday.  What's worse, I cannot make myself feel guilty about it.  It was a prime example of "Never do today that which can be put off until tomorrow."

In response to a request, Helper Dude texted me just as I was heading to the barn and said he had some time to trim Bessie Anne's nails and finish hauling the twiggy stuff from that big oak branch that fell over to the burn pile.  Yippee Skippy, both jobs needed doing.  HD moved brush while I did the milking and then we worked together on Bess.  HD is very gentle and patient with her as she does not like her feet messed with.

After Helper Dude left, I convinced myself that the day was already shot and it was too late to head to town.  I had very strong arguments, but will admit I didn't fight it very hard.  Sitting on the deck in front of the now-in-full-bloom forsythia seemed the better choice.  Bess thought so too.  While enjoying the sunshine in early afternoon, I heard those lovelorn lady quail calling for that love-'em-and-leave-'em rascal, Rodrigo.  He evidently really made the rounds this year.  In my yard, "Rod-RI-go!  Rod-RI-go!"  Across the road, "Rod-RI-go!, Rod-RI-go!"  Down the hill, "Rod-RI-go!"  Heartbroken females crying for that guy who won't come back.  Sigh.

Wishing to give the appearance of being productive, I moved around to the front porch and turned the sprinkler on in the herb garden.  As soon as the spray hit the dry birdbath, the birds started coming.  Big bully blue jays commandeered the bath, yelling at the top of their lungs, fluttering and splashing as the water deepened.  Little birds played in the spray amongst the leaves on the ground.  Well, I couldn't leave that show and so sat and watched until the garden was soaked.  I have definite priorities.

As the sun and temperature dropped, I went in to do a little baking (yes, for Christmas; don't judge me).

It was a good day.