I can always tell when it's the fifth because the gate on my driveway turns into a revolving door.
A revolving door manned by my extremely obnoxious dogs.
The fifth of the month is rent day, the day all the trailerpark folk meander down to make their monthly donation to the farm and it's upkeep.
The day my dogs all go a little horse.
Speaking of little horses, the farrier comes on Monday to do the donkeys feet and I'm crossing my fingers he will decide to buy the "modular home" that's for sale up there.
How great would that be.
I could have the best manicured donkeys in Beavercreek.
I was telling you the other day about my sheep that are dropping like flies, but did I tell you what I decided to replace the sheep with?
Yak.
I have been doing my research, and not only have I learned that they don't talk back, but you can use their yak hair to make stuff.
I could make yak hats, yak blankets, yak slippers, yak scarves, yak rugs, yak mittens, if I really wanted, I could probably even make yak soap!
I think I'll stick to yak hats.
So, if you hear of anyone trying to offload a yak, I'm the girl to call.
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