It rained all night and all morning. I scrambled 8 eggs for the chickens, poured some Honey Buzzer cereal for the goats and headed outside into the deluge. I slogged my way around the barnyard, opening gates and coop doors, feeding and watering, greeting and scolding animals. I was slipping and sliding, wishing I were in the house with my coffee and toast, reading the news online. The goats had taken shelter because, heaven forbid, a drop of water get on them. The geese were chomping at the bit, anxious to get out from under cover and into the mess. The chickens were soaking wet and complaining that they were fed last, instead of first. Judge Judy circled my ankles stomping and squawking, spokesperson for the rest of the hens. The roosters were engaged in a crowing contest with the rooster three doors down. After determining that no one was going to a.) starve, b.) die of thirst, or c.) freeze to death, I retreated to the house. Armed with my snuggy, a cup of donut shop coffee, and raisin toast I read the news by the fire and chatted on the phone with my Dad about primroses and clogged arteries. Midday I was snoozing in my recliner.
The skies finally cleared and this afternoon we had a few beautiful, Spring-like hours.
It was the perfect day for: Standing around:
Picnicking:
Hugging:
Wishing cookies grew on trees:
Looking for the pophole:
Strutting your stuff!
Eating grass:
Eating a tire:
Eating a tree:
The blue sky and warm weather soon gave way to clouds and darkness and we all headed for home. We’ll do it all over again tomorrow, making the most of it, because that’s how we roll!