If I were to pick a theme song for life right now, it would be 'Just Another Day in Paradise' by Phil Vassar.
I'll wait a minute while you pull that up. It's a good song.
Have you listened to it yet? Okay. You may continue reading.
It usually starts the day before - when you come in at 9 pm from evening chores exhausted. Switch out laundry, finish cleaning the kitchen, get ready for bed, and plop down on the couch just in time for the 10 o'clock news. You can't even stay awake to catch tomorrow's weather.
The alarm clock goes off in the middle of a dream, shattering the creative juices that you had going. Oy. Just 15 more minutes? No, because 15 will turn into 60 really quick, and there's critters waiting on you.
Mom and I head off to the neighbor's to milk the cows, leaving the rest of the posse to tackle the chicken chores, but the crew is still in bed. While Mom and I are gone, chaos apparently ensues. A certain someone ate almost an entire flat of berries on an empty stomach and quickly paid the price (keep in mind, Mom isn't home at this time), leaving a sick kid to be tended by ever sympathetic siblings who can fill any situation with plenty of drama. Another someone didn't eat breakfast in time and suffered from a cliff drop of blood sugar levels (for those of you who don't know what that feels like, you're fortunate to not be dealing with hypoglycemia). 2 down. 2 to go. But the survivors have sickies to take care of and chickens to wrangle. Just after they finished cleaning up the mess from bowl-bowing child #1, Mom and I come home from milking the cows (which took a little longer than normal on this particular morning). We were greeted by my brother saying, "Perfect timing!"
Tappa the mornin' to ya too, laddie!
As we got a vivid, dramatic retelling of the morning's events, Mom and I nibbled on some cashews, sipped a green smoothie, checked on the couch potatoes and headed out to milk the goats. There is one downside to the goats warming up to you - they really warm up to you. As in, they are, quite literally all over you, eating your shirt and jumping on the half finished milking stand. Yes, goats can be compared to Labrador retrievers. Maybe it's time to create some order to the routine because letting all the goats in the area that we're milking isn't working. And I'm beginning to think that Pip should be renamed Tom Sawyer. He's a charmer and a trouble maker. When he knows that you're on to him, he looks at you ever so innocently, cocks his head and rubs up against you. You're a suck-up, you know that?
With that said, we need to head over the other side of town to take the milk machine/vacuum pump thing-y in to be tuned up and fixed. Engines should not sound like that or be spewing a gummy, milky, oily mixture. We all have guesses as to what's going on, we'll see what the verdict is.
And the day's not done yet. ;)
I know it's just a season of life, we're having a huge learning curve with these animals, we've had the perfect storm of animal retention and situations that are out of our control. We're just trying to stay on the ride and enjoy it along the way.
Until next time! I think I need a nap.