It has been a lazy Sunday here at the Mansion.
The Hillbilly family has been scattered hither and yon this weekend. The Pony was picked up after bowling league Saturday, and spent the night with Grandma. He was practically frolicking all week with anticipation. She's been under the weather, and just this weekend felt well enough to host him overnight.
The #1 son said goodbye to me Thursday night, and announced that he would see me Saturday. That's because he can't be bothered to talk to me at school during the day. He stayed late for robot team, then had a lock-in for NHS until Saturday morning. He escaped again around noon today with his fancy schmancy camera, headed to a friend's house until late tonight.
Farmer H spent Saturday working, watching bowling, and awaiting a bargain at the auction. Today he sawed up a tree that blew over in the snowstorm right after Christmas, then he took off for the feed store, and Goodwill, and to pick up The Pony.
I have been filling out a gosh-darned 24-page return-under-penalty-of-law farm census from the U.S. government, doing laundry, whipping up a meat loaf, and writing. Of course there was time to drive to town for a 44 oz. Diet Coke. When I left, the goats were out in the BARn field, grazing under the thorn tree. When I came back, most of them were up by the gravel road, just waiting to dart in front of me. The newest kid was laying broadside soaking up the sun along the driveway on the Mansion side of the sinkholes, her baby breath curling out of her nostrils in tendrils of vapor. When she heard T-Hoe approach, she jumped up and ran to hide under her momma, Goatrude. She's a smart one already.
I did not get close enough to see the rectangles of her eyes.
Monday, the boys and I are off from school. The agenda includes a pot of chili, and a six-month dental checkup. Maybe a bit of TurboTaxing for good measure.