That’s how I feel right now.  Just bla.  I hate it when I know I should have done something and then I don’t do it.  Life is so damned short, I shouldn’t ever regret not doing something.

Yesterday morning, Wally and I continued working on closing the rabbit barn off from the poultry.  It’s almost done.  We also mounted their feeders on the outsides of their cages which will make feeding them a whole lot easier and with them mounted on the outside, the rabbits can’t turn them into toys.  By noon, Wally was done and watched football games for the entire afternoon into early evening.  I shouldn’t be mad at him for that, he certainly deserves some down time.  What I should have done though is get him to hook up the trailer and headed off somewhere to ride.  Now that it’s hunting season, riding around here is severely limited and really dangerous.

Instead, I laid around, researched on the Internet, etc.  By the time it was time to milk the goats, I was really, really cranky.  I got even more cranky when the guinea hen with a single keet flogged the crap out of me.  She was justified in flogging me, I picked up her keet.  Never underestimate the wrath of an angry mother.  It’s a good thing she didn’t take my eye out.  As aggressive as she is, that keet may survive.  Another single keet hatched out a few weeks ago, but it didn’t survive.  I don’t know what the deal is with the single keets.  We had a large group hatch out in June, between 15 and 20; only three survived.

Then the goats were rotten in the milk parlor.  First Misty put her foot in the bucket, twice.  Then Heavenly threatened to put her foot in the milk bucket.  If she ends up on any stand other than the first one on the left, she threatens to kick.  Then Faith, because she wasn’t on her normal milk stand, squatted so low her udder was in the bucket.  Damned routine-stuck goats.

I’ve got to get into the routine of milking before I settle down in the house, definitely before I eat supper.  Once I eat supper and have a glass of wine, the last thing I want to do is go out and milk goats.  I need to get it done first, then I can settle down and relax.

So I wish I had just gone out and ridden yesterday afternoon instead of staying home and doing essentially nothing.  Lord knows there was plenty I could have been doing, but I had about as much ambition as a dead skunk.

I did find a very interesting video on You Tube.  I’ve been researching chicken processing **WARNING GRAPHIC MATERIAL** and came upon this one.  I love the woman’s attitude about killing and eating animals.  If more people had this attitude, things would be different.  And yes, Wally is now worried about how the grass-fed steer is going to taste and he asked me yesterday afternoon after I showed him the above video and another one on how to make a chicken feather plucker out of a drill: “Why can’t we just buy our chicken in the grocery store?  It’s cheap enough isn’t it?”  I asked him what we would do with those old laying hens and he said “take them to the Shelby sale.”  Wally still has a long way to go.  That may have been what made me so irritable yesterday afternoon.  That and all the 9/11 programming.  It was 9/11 that started the downfall of my professional career.  As I told Wally this morning (while in tears): I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to get back into what was my profession.

Until later …