Staying up til 330AM on a Saturday night just isn't what it used to be, you know?
Instead of:
Don't worry 'bout tomorrow,
lord, you'll know it when it comes:
when the rockin-rollin music
meets the rising shining sun*
I feel like I've been drug through a knothole backwards.
But the rewards can be pretty substantial:
Azalea's baby boy, 4.5 hours old...
and 7 hours old.
Azalea had a very uncomfortable day yesterday, and since there are no barncams, I was lucky she didn't mind me camping out in the barn to keep an eye on her - for what turned out to be 13 hours. But once the baby was on the ground it was clear she needed some quiet, private time. So apart from taking a quick peek every few hours and making sure she has plenty of fresh water and a buffet of tasty food items, I'll be staying out of the barn today.
I expect she'll be back to her very sweet and laid-back self once she gets used to her new mamagoat status.
Flashback to baby Azalea, with her own mama, Lily of the Valley:
And if you're in the mood for a little goat-drama, here's the story of her own birth day.
~~~
*from One More Saturday Night
words and music by Bobby Weir
Grateful Dead
(so many memories)
~~~~~
