A lot of cackling and crowing near 5ish. I typically love it. This morning my head is migraine-y and so I’m not as happy about not being able to fall back to sleep.
I walk downstairs with a spill of dogs underfoot. I feel like I’m caught in a sluice-way when I wake up and imagine that someday when I’m less nimble, I’ll end up in a heap with several pairs of soulful eyes imploring me to arise and get them some breakfast. I automatically open the front door and we pour out onto the porch where we collect metal dishes, back inside to be greeted by baa-ing and then to the bin to scoop food into 3 bowls. Meanwhile, 3 cats alight onto the counter, inviting me to throw a little kibble their way. Back out onto the porch we go, doing the breakfast dance and I slip back into the house for a minor triumph of “6 down, so many more to go.” I then warm up some goat’s milk in a pan and funnel it into a bottle for Aisling, the bottle lamb. She delicately skitters about, occasionally bleating, until I lean to serve her a warm and yummy morning brew.
I try to put the kettle on for my own cuppa in and around this. By the time I’ve made a bottle, the water is boiling and I let my morning tea steep.
I’ve got this down in 10 minutes or less. The rest of the chores take me an hour or more, depending on the to-do list, and then I’m ready to start the day.
Happy Saturday, folks!