Thursday feels like Friday. I wish!

I changed my first flat tire yesterday morning. Lucky for me I had the opportunity a few weeks ago when I was mired to familiarize myself with the jack and how to get it out of the car.

Unlucky me, I didn't know how to get the spoke hubcaps off the tire to get at the lugs.

I popped the center cover, and tried to prise the cover off, but it was obviously not going to come off. So I called a friend and ask him if he knew how to get them off. LOL.

He offerred to come by since he was on the road in a nearby town, but I said I would look for further instructions with the vehicle.

ONe the jack and spare(donut) cover, it said, "if car has spoke wheels refer to special instructions," with no indication as to where to find those instructions.

I finally looked in the manual in the glovebox, and it directed me to find a special key to unluck the hubs, which was in the glovebox. NOT in the glovebox!

I decided to search the boot, and did find the key, as well as my portable air compressor, which I thought I had thrown away, because I thought it was broken. I decided to try the compessor, and had to jack the tire up because it was so flat.

The compressor DOES still work, but air was pouring out, so I figured I had no choice but to put the donut on.

I took the key and tried to fit it in the hub, and it kept being uncooperative. Finally I had it lined up and engaged and cranked on it with a lot of torque, and when it let go, I sprung my wrist.

This was more than I could bear, and I threw myself on the dirt on my back, clutching my wrist and burst out sobbing with a verbal query to God as to feeling pretty sorry for myself.

A sudden light spatter of raindrops, a few hit me, and a breath of compassion, and suddenly I am filled with the fact that I can do it, and I do, I change the tire and put the donut on, and manage to only be an hour late at the farm.

Farmtalk:

It's been hide hair, and eyeballs at the farm the last two days, and oh, yes, Monarch came up terribly lame, so we did not walk the boys yesterday, and I irrigated his foot with hoof and heel solution.

First thing this am, I tackled one of the wethers, whose hooves were incredibly overgrown, and one had torn and separated from the hoof wall. What a mess, the poor gigantor (he's the biggest goat on the farm)shivered and kept putting all his weight on me, causing me to drop the foot, and him crash to his knee on the barn floor.

I was puffing and panting and cursing myself for taking on the job, green fresh goat manure from his feet....hooves are a gross job, no doubt about it.

Didn't help that I came out of the doctor's appointment lame as hell...Once those muscles that have been contracted are stretched out, they get sore afterward. I would have thought by today I would have been feeling grand, but an erratic sleep and active dream state weren't conducive to healing, apparently.

The good news is that Monarch was much improved on the sore foot today-the hooves looked fine, I think he took a stab in between the clews. I washed him thoroughly again and brushed Hjalmar, who is still releasing cashmere .

My own gang of goats need feet trimmed and the garden needs more work...there is the afternoon list. ;)