There's The Floor

It's ugly but it's a start. Five years of hay and poop have been filling up my barn. The guys are spending one last day scooping and spreading tomorrow, then it's over until spring. We have to rent a smaller machine to get between the posts. I had a chance to buy a skid loader of my own a couple of years ago but someone got there before me. A poor farmer down in Greene had a heart attack while cleaning his barn, ran it into his wife's new car, then died. The wife came out to find her car wrecked and her husband dead in his machine. You can't make this stuff up. A student told me about the skid loader, with manure forks on it, but it was gone in moments. Not surprised. Baby Thunder and some of the goats wandered in and found the dark tunnel very interesting. They ran up and down as if they were looking for the hay pack that cushioned them so nicely, but made me bend over and bang my head while doing chores. Oh, if people only knew what toil and trouble is behind their yarn. Then I go outside and look up the hill into the misty night with the sliver of a moon peeking through the clouds, with the ghostly outlines of sheep grazing, and I think there is nothing more beautiful.