Back to Work

Not that we really get to stop; milking and feeding go on every day no matter what.

Still there is a huge difference between going out to the barn to set up the machines, put down hay, laugh at the fool kitties doing their silly things and all, and parking in the cold, dark office to pay bills.

A hateful job that. Thus this farmer hates Mondays as much as any office worker.

 I suppose I shouldn't complain though. The commute isn't too bad. The only traffic is a sleepy old border collie who would still like to accompany me anywhere I go if only he still could. Poor old man.

Or the pup is out of his kennel, tripping me as I go through the baby gate that confines his havoc to the kitchen. At least I get to pass the Christmas tree that Alan brought home and he and his lovely girlfriend decorated the other night. It is a balsam fir and smells delightful. What a pleasure to walk in the door!

Anyhow, at least the Thanksgiving turkey has seen his last....made into a pot pie last night and shared between the two families. He was a tasty bird, but I am ready for a change. I cooked it the day before the holiday and boned it out and put it in small bowls to cool with a little turkey juice. Reheated perfectly on the big day and made the preparations just a little less insane, what with being able to use the oven most of the morning for other stuff.

Stay warm!