Since I don’t have a working mower at the moment, I hire my friend’s 13-year-old son to bring his mower and weed whacker. He can tame the entire farm in under two hours. Once a month is in the budget for such a luxury and I kinda wish the appointment was sooner. I think the burdock is conspiring with the thistle to take over the joint…
In other news: I have a black jungle fowl hen sitting on a clutch of eggs and the geese have started molting. What a thing to have dark feathers all concentrated in one angry nest and an entire lawn of downy feathers. If you drive by it looks almost like the apple trees are blooming again. They aren’t. I just own geese.
I had big plans to ride tonight with Merlin post work and chores, but storms are moving through the area. I guess I’ll finally organize some of the drawers in the kitchen instead. I really am trying to get this place in order but dammit if riding horses isn’t more important than organizing drawers. May the man I someday marry care a little more than I do about order, or this place might just compost itself into the ground.
Friday went to the vet this morning for her shots (round 1) and was a champ. Afterwards we headed to the bank, Post Office, Wayside store, and other odd errands about town. I bring her in and don’t bother asking if it’s okay to carry a puppy in my arms. If you ask permission you risk giving someone else the power to tell you what to do. I’m not a big fan of giving people that authority when it comes to trivial matters like carrying puppies on my shoulder into the Post Office. When it comes to taxes - I have an accountant. We pick our battles.
Anyway, Friday was welcome everywhere and I was happy to share her with some of the retail folks and tellers. They gave her a biscuit at the bank and rubbed her tummy at the Post. I bought some Harry Potter stamps and mailed a mortgage payment today - no small feat for this farm girl. I’m still not caught up but working on it. That work is paying off every day in logos, writing, vlogs, workshops, and farm work. It’s been five years since I signed the mortgage papers and I’m just a little behind. Not perfect, but not too shabby for one woman with a problem with recreational authorities.
Not bad at all.