9:16 p.m. Raining. Overcast, darkness is impinging. The end of another long day, almost. Our visitors are yammering for a salad. They, unlike Pete, like greens. So Pete is braving the rain and going into the upper garden and picking lettuce. Me, I’m writing this dispatch and then heading upstairs.

Our visitors were on Ojai time, that’s where they live in California – not wanting to do much besides take in the sights. A good thing, I think. It’s what vacations are all about.

Karl and Meg on goat day

The goat event went well – some things of course, in such instances, are beyond one’s control; for example, the number of people who show up for such things. I think that there were eight kids total – some very young. We read stories, we sang songs. I had them sing Old McDonald had a Farm, and right as we were singing here a goat, there a goat, in walked Megan and Pearl, a white goat. Carl, her husband, followed behind with Jake, a black goat with white markings.

The kids were surprised, and when it came time to pet the goats, the goats were very obliging and not at all pushy. It then became more a goat/adult social hour.

Next event – Kid’s Kupboard Battle of the Businesses. I wasn’t sure what it was all about – there was food, a silent auction, a loud loudspeaker, and a large blow-up playgrounds. There was, in one of the blow ups, a jousting tournament, with large, inflated cylinders.

All during this, parents came with kids and got books. It was too noisy to talk for very long, so I quickly came up with a elevator speech, one in which I said that we’d partnered with Kid’s Kupboard – they were supplying the food to kids in need and we were supplying the books. There was a flicker of recognition on the part of people – some appeared to be appreciative readers. The rest were out for a freebie.

And this is what I don’t like about events, particularly ones like this. This is that some are not appreciative readers. I hope that those who take these books don’t trash them but rather read them. And well, most likely the odds are in our favor.

Home again, home again, to horses that hung out all day in the rain, waiting for hay. Not the best of lives right now. Tomorrow, rain or shine, I will get them all out. There is actually supposed to be a window of time in which the sun shines. This is the way it goes when the monsoon season starts.

Soon, too, hunting season. Rain will keep most of them off the trails. So rain is not such a bad thing. And this year I have orange sweatshirts and raincoats, so they will see me coming.

The hip worked just fine today. I figured out that when I am walking in an L shape, I don’t have a headache. But my standing upright after this gives me headaches. It’s so very strange. I wish I understood what was going on.

Next: 217. 8/10/24: That small window of sunshine