Tonight is the Royal Mile chanty sing in Wheaton, MD. While I'm wishful of going, I won't be there. I miss the company and the music and the fun of the witticisms flying across the room. I'm sure my memory is romanticizing it at this point, it's been so long since last I went up to MD for a sing. (I haven't been in over a year?!
Instead, I will likely be stopping by knitting group then going home to feed the animals and start raking out the barn. I could have baby goats as early as Sunday, you see, and I'm starting to get a bit anxious. There are things I should be doing to prepare for their arrival, and things that I worry about even when I can't fix them.
I got in touch with my shearer yesterday. He is trying to get another trip organized to get up here. I'm crossing my fingers that he can come this weekend before babies arrive. If not, then I'm going to be making four goat-moms rather mad this weekend by flipping them over and trimming their tummy hair.
I'm concerned that we are running low on hay, and that even if/when we get more, we are going to have storage issues. Because of the barn collapse, we will probably have to go back to storing hay in the back of the blacksmith shop, which is darned inconvenient and slightly dangerous. In order to slow down hay consumption, I bought two bags of alfalfa pellets to add to the goat chow. The pellets are definitely convenient, but they are really bad for Sancho, Lerris, and the camelids over the long term.
Sashimi came back into heat, which means that Jared is back in rut, which means that I can't combine the boys back into one field without risking another set of injuries like last summer. This means I can't put the now-yearling (can't call them babies anymore) boys up in the front field yet, which is causing crowding issues in the back barn where everyone kids. Argh.