93 F. in Norwich today. Not a happy camper. I told Matt we didn't move far enough north. He said we were 200 miles from the Canadian border and we were running out of country. I sure hope this is not a blistering hot summer. As I've said before, hot summer weather is good for only one thing - raising hay for the winter. In the meantime, while I was lying prostrate in the trailer, door and windows open with a fan going, Big Daddy came home with some round bales for the flock. They are having a wonderful time munching all night long, sleeping under the stars. I like them out in the fresh air, after spending the winter inside. I found some diarrhea around the barn. If that's the worst, we're okay. Sheep don't do well with sudden changes of feeding, and these bales are different grasses than the square bales we've been feeding them. And then there was the mold I was worried about. I won't even utter the B-word (b-l-o-a-t!). So far we're okay. They are still hoping for grain - but that gravy train has derailed.
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