It's raining now, and has been all day. Scott reports the goats have been under their brand spankin' new shelter, munching on the bale of bermuda grass hay that Miss Charlie hooked us up with. It had been sitting in the back of my vehicle this whole time, waiting for the appropriate time and venue to vacate the Jeep's trunk. Not a moment too soon.
In other news, last night's reconnaissance bike ride led to the discovery of 3 rusty rolls of hog wire among discarded washers, dryers, and dishwashers behind a graduate housing building. One in particular looks to be just the right amount to replace our makeshift goat barrier. I'm not opposed to liberating a few linear feet of neglected fencing from leftover University construction. Again, it's all justifiable as personal revenge for President Adams' unforgivable sin. (And the Dougie Deck really needs its table back.)
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