What Really Knocked Me Out Was Her Cheap Sunglasses

I gave up on good sunglasses 20 years ago.  I'm incapable of keeping sunglasses safe, so every year I buy a pair or two of the cheapest sunglasses I can find, and multiple pairs of crappy glasses roll around my car, my house and my bag and purse until one day, like yesterday, I gather up every single pair I can find and give them a proper funeral.  This is two of this year's pairs, one decent pair from last year, and a few junkers, sitting on my covered dining room table this morning, covered with newspaper, partially primed chicken coop, and various tools.

And here is the view from the driver's seat of my car this morning.  I bought hay yesterday, but had a wonderful dinner at a coworker's house last night and got home late, so the hay still sits in the car.  When work and social obligations clash, I'll go for the social side everytime.  New friends are more important than hay and putting up fences.  Which is why I'm seizing the opportunity to take the afternoon off work to set up and get the electric fence working before I go pick up the goats this evening.

In a 24-hour day subtract 11 hours for work and commuting to and from work, 2 hours for morning stuff (yesterday I took one of those hours and primed wood.  This morning I took one of the morning hours and planted seeds.), 7-1/2 hours for sleep and there's only 3-1/2 hours left for dinner and everything else.  That's not enough time.  Just not enough.

In my optimistic animal-owning dreams, the goats will train nicely to the electric fence, and I'll get them out on browse soon (mostly my overwhelming blackberry bramble).  The dogs (mine and the neighbor's) will respect the electronet, and soon everybody, animal and human, will be coexisting nicely on the homestead.  Then I can smoothly get used to giving up computer time for morning and evening chores.  I have a feeling that my optimistic dream is going to be choppier than I expect, but I don't know yet which part is going to fail!