Sunday morning coming down

I drive along our little country road, it is drizzling and leaves are spread everywhere.....gold and red...... pale green.....so beautiful, so dreary. I wave to an older couple who walk rain or shine...they wave back. Our little community is like that.
I turn the wipers on and listen to the rhythm of the steady thump, thump against the windshield. I am always thinking.....planning.....wondering...... I probably think too much some days. I write notes on paper and leave it for later.

I get to the barn and do my regular chores......dig my bare hands into steaming grain and beet pulp in order to mix it up and make sure it is not too hot. Smells good.....but is messy. I should use a glove.....but I am not a princess at the barn......just a slave.
The barn cats are bothering me and MEOWING loudly because I do not have their food out yet. Butchie bites me on the leg. I tell him to wait a minute.
The peacock is clacking his beak at the chickens in order to make his way to the food bowl. They peck at him. He doesn't care....he barges in anyway.
It is 42 degrees.......I muck stalls and paddocks.......I don't have volunteers on Sunday morning....today it is just the right temperature......no need to take my coat off.......I do not sweat.... perfect except for the frizz in my hair.
I finish up and go to let the cats into my mom's house.......and to check on her. Everything is okay.....
I make a phone call to Chelsea and bounce a few things off her......we vent for a while about life in general, then laugh.......then hang up.
I must leave and go get hay.....then go to The Harbor Kitchen and see what needs to be done.......for the fundraiser. Poor Cherri thinks I have left town probably.

more later.