I’d gladly take the day off and sit on the porch and read a book. But I can’t do this because I am the only one here. It’s difficult to ignore a bleating goat that’s begging for more food. The hardest part of being the one in charge here is moving bags of feed. I had to move the chicken feed from the truck to the upper quadrant shed. And I had to put Tinni’s senior horse feed (which Pete had put on the porch) in horse supplement containers.
Woe is me. I must be a racehorse.
I pause, in hopes of coming up with something important to say. Most nights, I surprise myself because something fairly intelligent comes to mind. Tonight I’m surprised because nothing intelligent is coming to mind.
With Pete gone, I’ve been waking up and getting up quite early. Not before the sun rises, but after its hit the first layers of clouds. This most likely is why I am so tired now.
I got my BLBP act together today, gathering up all the itty-bitty sheets of paper that were lying around in my study and copying relevant information into my notebooks. I reiterate – I am organizationally challenged. So was my mother. I do wonder if this goes with being a creative sort. I am, she was.
I did also manage to get outside. I took Mr. T for a walk, and I got Raudi and Hrimmi (individually) out on the trails. The trails are still a bit squishy, but not dangerously so. The buds are on the trees. I can almost smell the cottonwood trees. There are little tufts of green grass here and there, and of course the horses who are food obsessed, are diving for them.
I hope tomorrow, to feel better.
Next: 130. 5/12/22: A Big Chunk of Change