It's pouring here. I mean, RAIN. Chores are done between the hardest downpours and only one at a time. I ran out and fed the horses and sheep first (hay in the truck was closest to them and had to be fed right quick now that it was wet, only two bales so no big waste). I ran inside after that to fortify self and soul with strong coffee. It rained steady for an hour and then I headed back outside to feed the pigs and milk the goats. This morning with all the rain and wind there were windfall apples everywhere! I poured some corn into a metal bucket, filled it with leftover scraps from the kitchen and apples and poured goat milk over top. When you get a half gallon a day you don't mind sharing. I carried that to the wet pigs who are learning that "girl with bucket" is worth paying attention too. In a few days I'll build their first outdoor woodland paddock. I can't wait to see what they do with their wild world!
Two sheep keep escaping from their paddock into the pasture, Gibson rounds them up every day, several times. I think I need another electric wire so they stop leaping over top. Fences are just opportunities to acquire battle strategy, I think.
I trudged along in my wet t-shirt and kilt, dressed in what I consider my own sense of fashion now. I had on my favorite army green canvas kilt, a gray t-shirt, chaco sandals and a knit gray hat. My hair soaked below it but the wool kept the heat in and chill off. My feet got disgusting from the mud and farm but a dip in the well pool had them clean as movie hobbits in no time. I can't say it was all that bad out there: wet sheep, wet dog, wet kilt and wet pigs. Dry Smile.
There are worst ways to spend a Tuesday morning.
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