I went out this morning to feed the goat kids. They take three bottles a day. They share space in the barn with Mary's horse. I fed them.
I hauled water and hay to the pen, and let Wakiya into it. I went to get my horse, Hope. I let her off her lead a little early, because she always heads right for the pen when she sees Wakiya there. This time, however, she went for a romp up the hill, stopping to make horsey snow angels. Since we got a little over 7" of snow yesterday, my two legs couldn't keep up with her four even half as well as on a dry day. (That's farmer-animal fractions there.)
I went to get help (aka Mary) and, when I turned around, there was Hope, waiting at the gate. She's predictable, anyway.
I cleaned one goat and two horse stalls, hauling poop to the compost piles (see Thursday's post) and adding more bedding.
I checked the hens. They had seven eggs for us. I rewarded them with feed.
Coming inside, I noticed a stink. I hauled Annie's crate outside (my little goat kid is better now, and moved to the barn for good this morning) and then discovered our old cat had left me a, um, present, in the boot tray. She has decided, as it turns out, that this is her own personal litter box. When she's feeling too elderly, that is, to go out to the garage, where her real litter box is.
While scrubbing and replacing the boot tray, I knocked over a spray bottle of insect spray, which dumped onto the tack trunk and soaked a bag of books I'd brought from my dad's the other day. I cleaned that up, figuring I may as well tackle the rest of the room, as well.
In the end, I started chores at 7:30 and finished at 10:30. And I have family who can't figure out why I can't get up and going in the morning. I'm not up and going? Who knew?