Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
-- Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5
Polly will not let Ashenhurst nurse so we have to bottle feed him. He is flourishing and loving this supplement. For the first few days I had to hold Polly still so he could get something to eat so at least he got some of mama's milk. Finally she got too mean and was treating Ashenhurst terrible so we went to the supplement. She lets Ashley nurse without any problem. Last year she had twins also and never even cleaned up the second one abandoning it immediately. At least this time she paid a little attention to Ashenhurst and cleaned him up.
Here are the twins Ashley and Ashenhurst back at play once Ashenhurst has finished his breakfast.
Tina is outside the goat pen standing on a bale of hay wondering what is going on and why she can't get in the pen.