Some weeks pass normally -- Saturday morning breakfast at Jacks, Thursday night, fish at the Happy Trails, Friday, burgers at BurgerKing. That went on for months. Then, The Old Goat up and fell apart. Since then, it has been a different story around here. He has not been out of his house in two weeks. He now has a lady sit with him during the days. He is weak and seems to reflect his age. All of this has thrown my routine off. Instead of having dinner ready at my house Sunday through Wednesday at 4:30, I have to have dinner at his house by 3 because his caretaker wants to make sure he eats his dinner before she leaves at 4. I am not bitching too much about the earlier times. Having his caretaker around has made life mucho easier. Just that having to stop whatever I am doing in order to prepare dinner for mid-afternoon is troublesome. I am falling into a pattern of getting up a litter earlier, usually around 5 or so, and working until mid-day then stopping to cook dinner. Whenever it is finished, I package it up and take it to The Old Goats house. Then, I can return to my labors. There is nothing wrong with the schedule. It is just different and, as such, strange. It will remain so until it becomes the routine then any deviation will be castigated as innovative and repugnant.
Regarding real work, I spent the last two days (both beautiful with warm temperatures and sunny skies) mowing, bushhogging, cleaning, and burning, especially in the pasture. There are five pipes of stuff scattered in the pasture -- piles of limbs, brush, old cornstalks, and other miscellaneous items. Instead of waiting for it all to degrade naturally, I am opting to speed up the process. I am taking to the flame. Eliminating the piles certainly helps the looks of the grounds. In addition, today I trimmed around the lake and it looks great.
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