baymule
Garden Master
33F and storming, pouring rain down in buckets. Farm is a swamp from all the rain. Just 20 miles north of me is the ice and snow storms. So it could be worse. Supposed to storm tomorrow too. Sheep pens are a quagmire of mud and liquid poop, mingled with hay I keep throwing down in a vain attempt to give the poor creatures somewhere it’s not muddy. Epic failure. Even the inside of their shelters are saturated. It’s miserable.
Today is my last day of therapy, don’t know if I can make it to the paved road.
This is ridiculous.
Today is my last day of therapy, don’t know if I can make it to the paved road.
This is ridiculous.