One of the best purchases I made a few years ago was a pair of pretty purple Wellie boots. They fit perfectly, even if I have a pair of my warm and woolie socks underneath. I also bought a pair for Frank, but sadly, his barely fit, and definitely won’t fit if he has warm socks under them. I’m thinking perhaps Santa should buy him a new pair.
It’s definitely Wellie weather out there today. I nearly had mine sucked off of me in the mud and muck headed out to milk this morning. (I must remember to buy a milking pail with a lid.) All of the turkeys look like drowned rats. One of the sheep sheds had a door closed on them in the wind last night, and looked pretty miserable and soaked through out there, poor things. I need to come up with a way to secure that door open so it doesn’t happen again. They let me know very loudly this morning, all hanging around the outside of the shed, pointedly looking at the closed door as they baa’ed at me. I’m leaving the chickens in the for the morning, as I had to do an egg hunt yesterday, which I don’t find particularly fun. At least they are nice and dry inside the coop.
I had to laugh when I went out to the pigs, whose poor paddock is almost completely under water down where we feed them. Yucko! They can stay dry up higher on the hill, at least, which is where their hay bale is. But I’d put out a bunch of stuff for their dinner last night, and they carefully ate everything except the celery, which wasn’t touched at all. Spoiled! I guess they have Frank’s opinion of celery.