I personally wasn't having the best day ever; I slept even less than usual Saturday night, and I felt just a little crossways of the universe. Even so, it was another great day. I made a crockpot full of taco soup, enough so that anybody passing through could have some. Cliff's brother Don and his wife were still here, so the two guys worked on various tractors all day. Relatives and strangers came for target practice in the pasture.
I shamelessly stole most of these pictures on Facebook. Since I wasn't at my peak performance, I remained in the house while the shooting was going on, reading the strangest book I've read in awhile, "The Art of Racing in the Rain". The narrater of the story is a dog. I cried at the ending.
Nephew Scott put this on Facebook this morning: "I love when my Aunt Donna gets out her guitar and sings her songs."
I told him, "I don't do it often because nobody asks. Thanks for asking."