May 2 4 they call it.

The Victoria Day long weekend, traditionally the start of the camping season. ( 2 4 is the unit by which beer is sold here, though that's bottles and we usually get cans). We didn't camp. We expanded the chicken coop and cleaned out the tack room; chickens had been in the tack room so everything needed scrubbing. These hats are drying:

Maybe this was the last cold snap and last frost of the season, betting on that Charlie got a haircut and the tomato plants got left out overnight.

Brigid got introduced to open topped motoring.

And she got tto see her sister

This was at a dog show, I expect I'll have vitriolic comments on dog shows, the breeding of mutant dogs and the like but, for now, I'm just aghast at the clothing. Dog handlers go into the ring wearing garments that seem to have fished out of the "Unsaleable - Dispose" bin at Goodwill. They look like members of a polka band at an event involving Tennessee Walking Horses.

The puppies were happy though, they don't care if your suit is made of brocade curtains.