They say that nothing breeds success like success. It might be true. Still riding the high from the day before, I was inspired yesterday to "go for the gold." After getting the last yard mowed (that was the biggie) I went on to scratch a number of other items off the to-do list, and all this before sitting down to watch the race at Belmont. They say that the favorite horse never wins at Belmont, but it sure looked like Irish War Cry was going to disprove that. Then Tapwrit surged past at the last minute for the win. Guess "they" were right. Since none in the family had picked Tapwrit, my nickel can stay in the piggy bank.
Arden asked the other day about Snake. I haven't seen Snake in awhile, and that is worrisome. Since I know he hangs out in the milking room, when I don't see him I am on high alert as to where else in the barn he might be. I much prefer to see a snake first.
I feel that I'm in a real-life episode of "Where's Waldo?". I never know where the piglet(s) will turn up. Yesterday Waldo was on the bed. Since all the piglets are identical, from now on they are all named Waldo. Waldo was gone by bedtime, but I'm sure I haven't seen the last of him.
It had been a perfectly glorious day. Blue, blue sky with a few cotton-ball clouds and a cooling breeze. By sundown that breeze had turned into a chill wind and a jacket felt good on the way to the barn.
Cam and I are going to the Highland Games down in Plymouth today. Men in kilts, bagpipe and drum bands, and bangers and onions, it doesn't get much better than that. However, they say there's a possibility of rain in the afternoon. I don't think that will dampen our spirits one bit.
It was a good day.
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