A Sunday afternoon in the barn with George

It was Sunday afternoon. It was windy. What a surprise. The boys and Lucy were hunkered down in the barn. I went outside with my camera to capture the inertia.

Lucy was in la-la land, Hank was holding up the post, George was contemplating his navel, and Alan was staring into his feed tub wishing a flake of hay would magically appear.

Hank walked over to the feed tub, just in case Alan's wish came true.

Hank: I could be mistaken, but I think this tub is squeaking.

Me: Stand back, everybody. Let me check this out.

Me: Aw, geez. Eighty bazillion acres of ranchland and you have to nurse your babies right here??

Alan: George, wake up. You've got to see this.

Mama Mouse: A little privacy, please?

Alan: George, wake up! You really have to see this! The whole family unit is running north. 

Well, except for the lone ranger. He's going south.

Alan: That's gotta hurt. Those babies are still attached.

Me: I'm warning you...Stay away from the house or Smooch will try to eat you for supper.

George: It's not like you haven't seen mice before, all of you! You're a bunch of drama queens.

Now shut up and let me get some rest.