While nothing routine about it, it started out that way:
7:00 am : Wake up to find new baby goat (Yes, we’re now 5 in 4 days). This one, a perfect little gray w/black legs…baby boy. Named him Stoli. Everything from here on out gets named a Russian name, thanks to the Olympics. Last night it was Sochi. In between, was Anna Karinina.)
9:00 am: Attempt to wrap up the feeding, cleaning, holding of new baby goats.
9:20 am: Head back to take pictures of new baby goats…Ditto that for pups, while at it…
10-ish: Check email; post pics of new baby goats, pups…Heck, while at it, post videos too…
Somewhere before noon – Make errand list for weekend supplies in anticipation of snow ahead. Out of goat chow. Cat hates latest brand of cat food. (These are the kinds of notes that go on my shopping list. I kid you not…)
You start to get the gist…The inmates are running the asylum. Challenge is: the inmates are so dang cute.
Somewhere mid day, two more pups get selected by a soon-to-be owner. (We’ve now got 5 of the 7 spoken for. Part of me is happy to know they’ll be in such good homes. Part of me dreads like the plague, the day their new owners come for them. I’ve got two – three more weeks. The basement is starting to show the wear, however…I must say.)
Later in the day, calls get made…business meetings get set. (Cause few are happening today, though we did get the bills paid.)
By evening, the errands get run; chores get done. Add in neighbor kids who wind up spending the night because (after all) we have goats and pups…and Olympic opening ceremonies have us all piled up and falling asleep in front of the TV, (making this post a tad bit late) but it’s another full day on the farm. (And as I write, it’s snowing out, so we may wind up spending tomorrow…a Saturday…doing more of the same.)
Somedays it’s not about the touchdowns.
Somedays it’s just about moving the ball down the field a few.
Today was one of those days.