Living alone amongst throngs of dogs and cats has developed in me a certain amount of eccentricity. Okay - quite a bit. One of those odd bits is that I am constantly talking to objects, both inanimate and live. Some snippets of conversation (monologue) from the weekend:
"Here comes Moses! Part the sea!" Said while trying to navigate the kitchen with said throngs milling about my ankles and knees, depending on height.
"This is only a test. This is only a test." Said while standing in front of my washing machine which, two thirds of the way through the week's laundry, stopped. Completely. Dead silence, not even a hum.
"Stupid sheep!" Said quite a few times over the weekend. This was repeated many times in succession when I discovered that they had ripped the power cable out of the charger, which will force me to do electrical things - things I am not suited for or any good at. (See "This is only a test" above).
Saturday started off delayed. I got up at my usual 4 AM and it seemed like a normal morning. Then I glanced out of the window to find Juno standing in the front yard, facing off with the neighbor's Angus bull. Le sigh. Muck shoes on and out the front door I flew, screaming like a banshee. It had the desired effect - Juno twirled in mid-air and headed south. Angus bull didn't exactly twirl, but he moved pretty quickly for a solid block of beef and trotted off toward home. I still can't find how Juno got out, but she was very happy to get back in with her sane sheepmates.
Then I got involved in a rather sticky crossword puzzle and when I looked at the clock, I was behind. And I stayed that way all day. I headed north to the library to pick up three books, two on CD, then headed to M's farm to borrow a battery powered charger (that was BEFORE the "Stupid sheep"), then breakfast with sister, BIL and parents, then quick trip to Tractor Supply for another feeder (Note: when a feeder states that it feeds up to 20 birds, they ain't talking Nuggets), then back home to do chores, take a shower and appear presentable. Some friends took me and another of their friends out to dinner at a swishy place as a thank you - to me for finding a good home for their goats, to their other friend for driving them to/from hospitals, doctors appointments, etc. It was such a fun evening! Much wonderful food and laughter.
Sunday was another fast day out of the starting gate. A neighbor came over with his trailer and we moved my littlest coop up to my helper's place. Then picked her up and she finished cleaning out the run-in shed while I attacked my laundry and garden. We had a little time between when she finished and when I was due to take her home, so she helped me "hill" my potato bags. I then stopped at another neighbor who gave me four squash plants and five perennials (which I needed like another hole in my head, but couldn't help myself), then I worked like a slave in my garden. A little voice in the back of my head (the voice of reason, which is frequently squelched by the MUCH louder voice of unreason) kept trying to butt in, going on and on about my prescription vis a vis sunlight. I did finally stagger into the house and stay there until I wasn't staggering. It was then that I looked out and saw that the sheep were out. And Linden was staggering, too.
Of my three sheep, Linden is my problem child. He has trouble with his feet. He squirms under fences. He doesn't have the sense that goD gave a turnip. While the llama, Juno and Norman will head for the shade, Linden has a one-track mind. Green things. I managed to get them all into the fence, then guided Linden into the shade. He laid on the ground, panting. Those of you with sheep know that they do not pant. I ran into the house and soaked towels in cold water, then raced outside again. I wrapped his legs in cold, wet towels and tied another round his neck. I squirted cool water down his gullet. I fanned him. I promised him all kinds of things if he would not succumb. He didn't. Thank goodness sheep don't speak human. I slowly managed to get him up and moving and we all sauntered back to the barn. Where they stayed the rest of the afternoon. I went and checked on the nuggets, who were warm but fine. Except for one. And now there are 22.
I am happy to say that my garden is 99% done. There are a few things to be done - mostly in the herb garden and finding places for the perennials - but the main garden is planted. I then harvested lettuce and rhubarb, went inside and made butter, roasted the last of last year's nuggets, and made myself a large G&T, light on the G and heavy on the T. After being 'braced' thusly, I went into the laundry room and tackled the washer. The fuse had been tripped off and would not snap back in place. I decided to give it the only reasonable treatment I could think of. I ignored it and walked away. (I am happy to report that it snapped back into place this morning.) The broken charger is on the dining room table, awaiting some magic that I don't possess.