Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Winter

So, it seems my blog postings are getting fewer and farther between. Why is that? Well, because it's winter. We aren't doing any less, it just seems to take longer, and is much less interesting. My camera, to conserve battery life, no longer lives in my car. I have to remember to bring it with me. And when I do, the horses still look like woolly mammoths. Dirty woolly mammoths. In the summer photographs seem to naturally edit out grooming issues. In the winter, they magnify them.

So, what did we do today? at 1pm, I hit my remote car starter and headed to the office locker room. I removed all my warm, clean, tailored office clothes and start from scratch with cold clothes. Cold is relative, but when it is 20 degrees or less out, taking off warm clothes and putting on room temperature clothes isn't something I look forward to. Even my winter barn wardrobe is well thought out and coordinated. Both fashion and functionality are taken into consideration. So, how come when I get dressed I do notfeel like the models in the catalogs, but like this...




I drove to the barn, hauled the bag of sunflower seeds out of the trunk and dumped them into the feed room tub. I also dumped the new bag of beet pulp. Somehow I managed to break a nail. I ran a bucket of water and dropped the heater in it for wash water. I brought Ace out of the indoor arena to the grooming area to check him out. He had the wiggles. So, I put him in his stall and he got his lunch. That boy can't think about anything when he's hungry.

While everyone was eating, I did a toy check. Both plastic milk jugs in Ace's stall were still useable. The Uncle Jimmy ball is holding up well, but Buddy Bopper was flat (for only the second time in his life) I gave him a once over. I don't know what's wrong, but we'll have Stepdad reinflate him and see if he sprung a leak. If he has, he'll have to be disassembled and patched. I pick several dozen pieces of paper feed bag out of the sand in the indoor and raked the hay chaff out from under the hay net and put it in a wheel barrow to be taken to the chicken coop. Dumped the heated bucket from the arena gate and refilled it with clean water.

Next I put the Grey Horse out and checked the time. Half of my lunch hour was already gone. I dumped Grey's icy bucket and left it empty for when he returned to his stall. I mixed a new batch of Listerine and baby oil in the spray bottle and set it to float in the hot water pail so it would be warm. Ace has been rubbing his tail since before Christmas. He got a good dose of wormer when it started, and I've been spraying his tail with my mixture every other day. I haven't gotten him stopped yet, but my mixture has never failed before.

I quickly groomed Copy and Grey. In the winter "grooming" is just a once over. I pick hay out of their tails. Curry the muddy spots to fluff them back up. Knock the ice balls out of their fetlock hair. Pick their hooves and check for thrush and scratches. Clean under their tails, and replace their halters with clean ones if necessary.

My lunch hour is now WAY over, and I still have to stop at the post office on the way back. I unplug the water heater and the heat lamp in the tack room and gather Ace's tail brush and the spray bottle. Mom holds his head while I scratch his itchy tail bone (he loves this) and spray my concoction on it. I flip it up to make sure the underside is clean and see if there is something I'm missing. WHY is he still rubbing? I spray some on a patch of his mane that he rubbed awhile back which is growing back nicely. Ace decides I ought to be bitten. I spray his mouth with the Listerine. Bleh! That was yucky. He makes bad faces, but comes back for more. I head for the stall door, holding him back by his halter while I back out. Before I can make it to the door he strikes at me for the first time ever! Naughty! I was standing close enough that he only manages to knee me. I holler at him, push him against the wall and smack him in the ribs a couple of times.

Mom is still at the door so I have her hand me the whapper stick which hangs there from the halter hook. I try to sucker him into trying it again but he is wiser than that. Twice he raises a front leg in an absentminded reaction to my pushing his head sideways and I whap the back of his knee. Soon he is standing stubbornly against the wall glaring at me with a pouty little boy look becaue he knows I am baiting him. As soon as I back out of the door, he tosses his head and "chases" me. I open the door enough to poke his chest and make him back up again trying to re-establish my authority. It's a draw this time.... and I head to the Post Office. Late again.

1 comment:

Serena said...

what a little booger-head!