Liam woke up on the right side of the bed today. He was happy and helpful. He worked alongside me mucking the goat barn, was nice to his brothers, and was generally lovely to be around. Until....
...he tripped coming down the garage steps and smashed his face into the concrete floor. How he howled! I am sure the entire neighbourhood and perhaps all of Ottawa must have heard him. After washing away a copious amount of blood, it turned out that he basically skinned his lip. He is now sporting the most epic fat lip that I have ever seen. It trumps Ian's fat lip from Lawrence's fish hook by a mile.
After getting Liam cleaned up and settled into bed with some Tylenol and a pack of frozen coconut water on his face, Seamus and I returned to the barnyard where he promptly tried to spear Poppy the Lamb with his pitchfork. I was not impressed. His explanation was that he was sure that she was coming up to bunt him. Seamus earned himself a long and emphatic lecture about animal welfare and the proper use of pitchforks. In Seamus' defence, later in the day Poppy did start to chase him (she is a saucy little thing) but still, she is half his size and half of that is wool; in no way is a pitchfork required for self defence.
After this crazy day on the farm, I needed a breather. I managed to sneak out for a half hour forest hike while Ian put the finishing touches on supper. A twilight walk was exactly what I needed to re-energize in order to make it through dinner and bedtime routine.
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