"I took lessons on riding a bicycle, but I could only afford half of them. Now I can ride a unicycle." - Steven Wright

In one of those too-typical Facebook ploys someone instructed us to post the last picture we took of food. Not necessarily something we ate, just food.
I responded with a picture of one of our goats.
She did NOT approve.

Speaking of goats, AJ and Burrito are six weeks old and growing physically and in their sense of independence. They wander further away from Sundae to explore, graze, or just run and jump. Sometimes their natural curiosity gets them into situations they can't get out of. Like their feeder. Fortunately, this happened this morning while I was mucking out the barn so I could rescue Burrito almost immediately. Had I not been there his bleating - they can be VERY loud - would have summoned me. We're to the point where we can tell which goat is making noise and what kind of noise it is - a cry for help, impatient for the a.m. or p.m. feeding, feeling threatened, or just making bleating to bleat.

We've given up, or given in. We record several British dramas from PBS, mostly detective shows. The have a half dozen that are very good, especially as compared to our network examples of the genre. But too often we miss dialogue because of their thick accent. Even the show set in Australia, "The Dr. Blake Mysteries", can be difficult to understand. So when we do playback we turn on close captioning. It feels like cheating but we get a lot more out of the shows. Whoever does the cc for "The Coroner" must be doing it on the fly, because sometimes it makes no sense and can be pretty funny. But between listening and even that show's cc we can figure out what's being said.

Barns and summer means flies. I accept that. I'm less thrilled about the bee that stung me on the inside of my arm well above my elbow, a fairly tender spot. The stinger may still be in there.
I was unloading a bale of alfalfa hay I'd just fetched from the feed store. On the way home I realized the Kia's brakes are making that noise that says, "It's time for a brake job." Drat.
Tomorrow I'll call a few places to see how much they'll charge, and I suspect I'll end up doing the job myself. Not that I want to, especially on a gravel drive.