It's not until tomorrow but since Thursday is almost over I can start celebrating Friday. Would Friday be so dear to me if Monday was not so painful? I don't think so. There is a quiet euphoria in school when Friday rolls around just knowing we can stay home the next day. For me it's a chance to be with my animals and play with all my toys. I am challenging myself to go through the mountain of clothes in my bedroom that I saved from the possums in the tractor shed. Yes, I know, that was a long time ago that I went into the giant pole barn to find clothes I hauled up here from New Jersey and discovered possums living in them. I salvaged what I could and brought them into the house. I have a hard time giving up clothing. If I wait long enough it always come back into style. Most of my stuff is classic country and that never goes out of style. I don't have to dress up for my job and farm living does not require a stylish wardrobe. I do like to have something nice to wear to the Fur Ball in February and occasionally to church. It's snowing outside, just a soft little snow, but more will come tonight. The barn water was frozen this morning and I'm in full tote water mode. Twice a day, morning and night, I carry water out of the milk house and pour it into the hanging buckets for the sheep and goats (keeps the ducks out), chickens in the chicken room, bunny bowls (five cages, soon to be more), and two dog bowls. I put out all they can drink, twice a day, and that seems to be enough. This way they are always drinking clean water and nothing has a chance to drown in a tank. It requires about six trips in and out of the milk room. I have one container filling up while I carry two out to empty. I use old large kitty litter containers with handles. I've used the same containers for several years, a testament to how long they would last in the land fill. Like forever. The door on the milk house room doesn't always shut correctly while I'm toting water out and the goats pry it open. I come back for more water to find six or eight goats with noses in the feed sacks and chicken flying everywhere. I have to chase the goats out, then shoo the chickens with a broom or they will roost over my dye stove and poop all over it. Life on the farm. Never a dull moment in the Land of Poo.