Life is what you make of it

So, the other day, I stepped away from the office, try to clear my head and find some greens for the goats. They bawl when they're hungry.

Anyhow, before I got to the goats I went into the chicken house scrounging around for eggs, but the birds lay fewer eggs as the days get shorter. so I only got a single egg.

While I checked each nest, I stepped in fresh chicken poop, while I was wearing my nice Italian loafers; the kind that have a woven leather topside that allows the squishy stuff to ooze inside my shoes. I scraped off as much of the crap as I could and went to the goat pen.

The goats were very frisky that morning, which is another way to say they were being difficult. I had to grab the male by the horns, hold him still so I could snap the leader line to his collar. The female is easier and has better self control, but she takes her cues from the male. So if he decides to misbehave, she will copy him, because that's what goats do.

As I am fighting with the goats to get their leashes on, I got the leader line twisted around my wrist, while they pulled in separate directions, increasing the tension of the cable. This is kind of painful.

I finally got the two of them secured and ready to move to the high grass. I've got a 1/2 inch of compacted chicken poop on the soles my shoes. My wrist hurts from trying to put the goats out to pasture.

I looked up and saw a commercial jet flying from the southwest to the northeast. It was a beautiful blue sky that day, not a single cloud between me and that airliner; 30,000 feet overhead. I thought about the passengers on that flight, especially the ones in first class who were looking out the window.

You know, where ever that plane is going, I'm certain I've been there, done that, and I wouldn't trade my contentious critters and stinking shoes for all the first class seats in the world.

I find new slivers in my fingers each day, I have dodged black widow spiders reaching for the light switch in the barn. There is a smell coming out of the barn that I just cannot identify the source. The barn roof leaks...... a lot when it rains, even when it drizzles.

But I have also sat in rush hour traffic, watching the guy in the SUV next me talking on his cell phone or burrowing a finger up one of his nostrils Or having that uncomfortable feeling that the 32 ounces of coffee I drank less than an hour ago are now past ready be passed.

I have also been to offices that feel more like a library, where exceeding a hush tone on phone call will cause the cubicle gophers to pop their heads over their respective walls.

The grass isn't greener on the other side of the fence

So, taking it all in perspective, I have no complaints.

Beautiful full moon this week

It's great watching that moon rise up behind the bare trees and then waking up in the early morning dark to see it heading for the hills to the west.

The days are getting cooler and the leaves are no longer brilliant. They were spectacular this year, although the peak color seemed to only last a day or so last weekend.
I meant to get pictures but I didn't.

We have allowed the goats to feed inside our fence in the afternoons, letting them take advantage of the last of the fescue before the cold turns it brown and kills it off. I'm trying to spread the spoiled hay across the flat spot near the barn in hopes we will have something that resembles grass there next year. I should be wearing a mask when I spread it. There is so much mildew in it that it makes me choke trying to separate it from the pile.

The hens are only producing one or two eggs a day now. I guess because the days are getting shorter. So we won't be giving away as many as we had this past summer when they were cranking out 4 per day like a production line.

We are in sort of a flux state with the time change, we didn't keep up so things get left undone, until my body clock gets back into the rhythm of the day. We get up earlier, but we've been falling asleep early too.

I've got two piles of wood that need to be split. I'll take the poplar, you can try your hand at the red oak. The poplar splits easy, like ripping paper; whereas there is no reasoning with red oak. It doesn't like to be split, especially the stuff that is twisted or gnarled. You might as well pound rocks. When you handle the wood, it leaves behind really fine splinters, the kind you can't feel when they get embedded, but by the next day you'll remember them. I've spent many evenings with a hot pin in a futile attempt to dislodge the slivers. The splinters aren't any worse than the fire ant bites so I guess I can put up with them.

The conversation about getting a TV comes up more frequently now, but it's probably just talk.
We've been without TV ( but are happy to have Netflix) for long enough that I don't think we would find much benefit in it. Even when I travel, I prefer to read or sleep rather than watch TV.

In the evenings, we'll listen to Andrew play guitar, either the acoustic or electric, play a card game or dominoes or watch a rented movie so I'm not sure if I even miss broadcast TV anymore.

Kind of a boring life, but we might not trade it for anything. We'll maybe a weekend in Cabo.

We hope ya'll are doing fine.