Hermit on the Homestead

Yay! After much sleepless nights, hand wringing, and brow furrowing, we changed the yaks halters! They were getting so tight they were digging into their noses, and making furless indentations on the back of their necks. I knew they must have been very uncomfortable, but The halters I bought were too big. We had to drill more holes in the strap and even then I wasn't sure if they would fit. We brainstormed how we should do it. Should we tie the yaks up some how? Should we build a make-shift squeeze chute? We had no idea, but we knew we couldn't traumatize poor Rocky again.  I had an idea. Clip them up with the leads to their existing halters like we always do every morning. I thought, let's put the sweet grain they love in a bucket. Then make the nose hole on the halter really big and place it around the sides of the bucket. When they reach in the bucket for the goodies, lift up the halter and then it would be around the nose, all is left is buck the back strap. Then switch...

The first night we are here, I had a dream. A group of men walked into the room where I am sleeping (and it really was the right room). They walked up to the foot of the air mattress, and I sat up. “Hello, I’m elder Robbins.” said one of the men, “There’s something you have to know about living in this place.” then he turned to the others who were holding three pitchers of liquid and a blue glass. They poured the liquid in seemingly deliberate and specific amounts, like a recipe, of a foggy liquid (lemonade?), a dark brown liquid (tea?), and a white liquid (milk?), until the glass was full. They handed me the glass and it was so smooth and slippery that I nearly dropped it. It slipped through my fingers and I had to support it with both hands. The glass settled and I felt like I had a steady, but light grip on it. I looked to the right, where Ganesh was sleeping, expecting to be like, “do you see this?!” but I just saw the blankets, I pulled them back to make sure and he wasn’t there. ...