Routines are ingrained behaviors. They are much like the groove in a record – you follow the path until you get to the end, then start over again.

This was today. There wasn’t anything that I did that stood out. It was a day that won’t be remembered. I have stood here for some time (I have a standing desk) and attempted to bring something to mind that deviated from the norm. Nothing materialized.

Sassy

Woke up to sunshine, partly cloudy skies. I was not here, but apparently it rained in my absence for nine days straight. The ground did not seem too sodden, but manure and muck buckets were filled almost to the brim with water, as were the water tanks. Also, the remaining raspberries were mushy.

As usual, I milked Swampy right after breakfast, and then sang to her. I’d like to think that she’s glad I’m home. It’s too bad that this isn’t, milk-wise, a measurable entity.

Pete spent his morning blanching kale and Swiss chard. Yesterday he went to Jim’s place and got the last of his processed food, about a dozen boxes. This included Copper River red salmon, which means that we are set on fish, as well as tomato and apple sauce.

I spent the rest of my morning first taking Tinni for a walk then going for a ride on Hrimmi. Zach, our veterinarian, said that Tinni’s tumor isn’t going to kill him, adding that, beforehand, something else will take him out.

I bypassed the mega hunters in turning onto our trailhead. They were camped en-mass across the road. Some of the campers had chairs with American flag designs on them. You’d think it would be grounds for imprisonment, setting your fat ass on the U.S. flag. This reminds me – yesterday, on the Alaska Highway, I saw a sign that read Trump 2020. Underneath, it said “he won,” meaning that the Democrats stole the election. How, I continue to wonder, can people be so stupid? I think that they work at it. It’s harder to be stupid than smart.

Those with 4-wheelers did trash our trails some. They generally blast through the brush, then turn around because they have no idea where they’re going. I didn’t see any on the trail. I would have been easy to spot. I wore a bright orange bicycling coat, one that I picked up many years ago, for $5.00 in Cambridge, MA. I also put flagging on Tinni’s and Hrimmi’s halters.

I ate lunch then cleaned the goat pen. I feel good after I do this because I know that the goats also feel good. They must have been in their pen most of the time that I was gone because it was, when I cleaned it, pretty stinky.

Pete and I then took Tyra and Raudi for a ride in the rain. If it were summer, this would have been called an afternoon thunderstorm. It’s fall so it was called a downpour. I say, hey hey, better rain than snow.

Next: 236. 8/29/22: I’ll be Home in a Day’s Time