At 3 AM this morning, I'm abandoned for a goat. This time it's Luti. At 4 AM, my cellphone rings, "I think she's about ready." I jump up and head for the barn. All's quiet, but "there's a bunch of goo," says Karen. Luti stands gnawing, jaw back and forth, back and forth, no baying, pawing, scratching, licking, nothing unusual but "a bunch of goo" and she's obviously "got milk," buckets.
I'm disappointed the sky is clear, full of stars. The seeds I've planted lie underneath, waiting for moisture. I see the prediction is down from 70% to 40% for today. Smile. 90% tomorrow. What does that mean? According to About.com, it's the chance of a measurable amount of rain. A measurable amount is at least .01 inch. So, 90% means that in 9 out of 10 cases where the weather is similar, .01 inch of rain will fall somewhere in the area. Fall here, please. In the meantime, I'll run the hose.
Good morning sleepy
name game, he, she,
wonder, walk and wander
not far, don't worry,
no brays, squeals,
eyelids closed, open, close,
goo-looking, udder heavy,
still cool, almost spring
"She was kidding, wasn't she?" says Virginia.
See the hoof and bubble announcing arrival? Sure enough, Number 1, a boy, a Nubian-Saanen, was born about 9 AM.
Number 1 boy is joined by Number 1 girl, about 9:05 AM this morning.
Way to go, Luti!
The Bowman Women; A Work In Progress
1 week ago