Hilda and Hazel are Helen’s girls that I weaned and put with Millie and my new moms. Well, Hazel is killing me.
They are supposed to be on the same side of the fence. Don’t give me that sweet innocent look, Hazel.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve chased that little girl up and down the fence line through thistles and nettles, tripping on the tall grass as she’s frantically yelling and trying to figure out how to get back in while the sun is setting and thunder and lightning are approaching. And sometimes, just sometimes when it’s the middle of a nice afternoon, I ignore her being out and when I come back, she’s looking all sweet and innocent on the right side of the fence.
You’re killing me Hazel.
Sharing with Alphabe-Thursday where the letter this week is H. H is for Hazel (and Hilda).