The big things and the little

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I’m so excited…my new fence is actually going up! Dad came out and we worked on it Saturday and Sunday. The discouraging part is that with all the work we did, we only set the corner posts and the gate. Only one post is completely braced. And the ground is hard as a rock! The auger on the tractor just sat there, spinning and spinning and going nowhere. There’s a lot of sandstone down there, and sandy soil, and not much topsoil. No wonder my pasture is nothin’ but weeds.

I got a load of hay on Friday and stacked it in the barn. A ton and a half. Then I worked on the fence all weekend. My muscles are SORE.

These are the horses in my NEIGHborhood

This is what I saw on my way home today:

There were these three tiny kids on a diminutive cart pulled by the cutest little miniature horse driving around the yard where they have the prettiest garden every year. A little way further, I passed a grumpy-faced old graybeard on an open buggy ( the horse was your run-of-the-mill brown buggy horse.) Then I came up behind two teams in a row, pulling wagons–Belgians, of course, though the hindmost team was a fairly sharp matched set like you might see in the fair if they were cleaned up.

Picking stuff

I haven’t written much, but then not much is going on. The days blur together. I’ve been sick for almost two weeks now, and that slowed me down. I celebrated my birthday a day early because I had to work on my birthday. My usual celebration is to not do any work, but just sprawl out and read. Like I used to do all summer when I was a kid.

The garden is just coasting along right now. This is the easy time–all I have to do is water (when it doesn’t rain) and pick. It’s been raining pretty frequently this year. My tomatoes are loaded with green ones, but none has ripened yet. At the moment I’m pulling small beets and enjoying them. This year’s wild blackberry crop was fabulous; I picked enough for two pies and also froze four quart bags.

We still have no fence for a dry lot, so the horses are still inside 22 1/2 hours a day. They don’t mind a bit, but we’re getting heartily sick of picking stalls. I was complaining about it to my farrier yesterday, and he said he has to clean EIGHT stalls. I must remember to keep things in perspective!

Last night we went to the grocery store, and I noticed several items that touted the fact that they contained “real” food items. Wow, ice cream “with Real Milk!” One wonders what all the other products contain. It is a sad state of affairs, truly, and it makes me glad that I have a garden that contains real beets and real tomatoes and real cabbage. My real corn was eaten by a deer, which is running around somewhere with a label: contains Sarah’s real corn.

Buddy is a big goofus

He is such a funny horse, and an all around good guy. He is so laid back and cool. Nothing spooks him. Back when I could ride him, his biggest spook was a stiff-legged jump in place. (Utah, on the other hand, is a 180-spin-and-take-off sort of spooker.)

I’ve been turning Buddy out for a half hour or so while I clean out his stall, and I worried about catching him again, but why did I worry? Once he was a ways away in the pasture, but when I called him he just lifted his head and moseyed on over. Other times he tootles into the barn before I’m even ready for him. He misses his Utah pal too much even for grass to hold his attention that long!

Yesterday I could hear him somewhere close to the barn, but when I looked out I couldn’t see him. Then I saw this weird object waving around above the manure pile. Buddy was rolling–the manure pile obscured his body, but I could see his foot waving back and forth!

While Buddy is outside, Utah pitches a fit periodically. He can’t stand to be alone. I give him a flake of hay to munch on, and he does. Then he gives an earsplitting neigh. It’s like this–munch, munch, munch, AGHH WHERE’S MY BUDDY? munch, munch, munch.

Yesterday Buddy was in his stall while I was cleaning out Utah’s next door. I was leaning over with the fork and when I stood up BONK I ran into something hard with the top of my head. Buddy the booger was sticking his head over the divider, and I think he had wicked intentions toward my hair. He always has to have his nose, literally, in whatever is going on.

Buddy likes to reach over and nip at Utah, and then you can almost hear him snickering–like Ernie on Sesame Street–hee hee hee. Then Utah gives him the evil eye. But those two are inseparable.

Just when I think I’m going to make it

Utah is feeling much better. I can tell because when I take him out of his stall, he starts acting his old ornery self. He’s walking pretty good–almost no sign of pain except on the stones. Today he even trotted on the line (his choice–he’s full of energy.)

I usually work 30 hours per week during the school year because I split a part time job with a coworker who is a teacher. During the summer I go back to 20 hours per week. This is my last 30 hour week, but since I’m covering for another person, I’m actually doing 37 hours this week. I can do up to 39 hours because the library doesn’t have to pay me benefits. The only benefit I get in my job is the fact that I don’t have to work 40 hours per week. So this week sucks, but I just have to get through it to get to next week.

I thought I was doing ok–I’ve settled back from crisis mode into somewhat of a routine. It’s a lot of work keeping two horses in stalls! A lot of mucking and a lot more tending to. But they are pretty laid back about it all (heck, Laid Back is Buddy’s middle name) and they seem contented enough to hang out in the barn. As long as they are together; Utah doesn’t like it when I turn Buddy out to pasture while I clean his stall, and Buddy isn’t particularly keen on letting Utah out of his sight either. But we’re settling into a routine and Utah is improving and I can finally focus on what needs to be done next.

But first I just need to get through this week.

My name is Sarah, and I have a fat horse.

It doesn’t happen very often to me, but I find myself falling into a depression this week. I feel like a TV commercial: sad, tired, hopeless, sick to my stomach. It’s the hopeless that hurts the most.

The vet finally made it to the farm. Utah seems to be pulling through, but the huge fact that is staring us in the face is that he is fat. I have been neglecting Utah because I’ve been so focused on fixing Buddy. I knew he was overweight, but I kept thinking “we’ll get Buddy back in business and then we’ll start working on Utah.” Meanwhile Utah is out munching grass and ballooning.

Well, the balloon has burst and now we must do something about it. Right now all I can do is keep him off the grass, which means in his stall for now. No more putting off that fence though.

This upcoming week will just have to be got through. I’ll be working full time, so I can’t do much but maintain. But the week after that starts my summer hours so I’ll have more time to get cracking.

Here’s my plan: 1) Get through this week. 2) Call fence company and find out if they build horse fence and if so, how much it costs. 3) Decide if I can afford a nice paddock fence or if we’ll have to build an electric fence ourselves. 4) Build it.

 

When the big hand is on the 10 and the little hand is on the 3…

This morning I did laundry and hung it out. Then I took care of the horses. I had to go to work at noon, so I had to be home to get ready by eleven. I checked the time after I hung up the laundry and–gulp–it was a quarter ’til!

I raced around, throwing things–a bale of hay, horse poop, some shavings, pitchforks, buckets, feed, etc. “Sorry boys, it’s got to be a swipe and a promise today.” I checked the stall doors one last time and ran. A quarter after…yikes!

I was halfway out the driveway before I realized it was a quarter after TEN, not eleven! So I had plenty of time for a leisurely shower and lunch, iron my clothes, pack my supper, la la la….

I usually enjoy hanging up laundry. I love the smell of clean, sunshiny clothes. I find hanging laundry out to be one of the most relaxing things. Maybe I’m weird, I don’t know. When I hang out clothes, they have to be neat and in order of size and kind. I learned how to hang out laundry from my mother, who learned from her mother, etc. I like to think that how I hang out laundry is just like how a woman years and years ago used to hang out her laundry, teaching her daughter as she went: now be sure to hang the big stuff first, and then the medium things; it just looks better that way; don’t you just love how the sheets smell after absorbing all that sunshine?

Why do these things happen to me?

And why do they happen at the start of a three-day weekend?

I had to work Saturday, and when I went out to feed in the evening, Utah was walking very tentatively. Something was definitely very wrong when I was able to walk straight up to him, carrying a halter in plain view, and catch him. He was sore on his feet, which were hot to the touch, and he stood spraddle-legged and shifting from one side to the next.

Yup, quite sure that was the beginning of laminits…and in my horse who never has problems. Great.

I hosed his feet down and put him in his stall with a lot of extra straw, and then I went home and called the vet.

And that was what I did for the rest of the weekend: hose feet, give Bute, clean out stinky stall, refill with straw. He’s getting better, but not all the way yet. I’m really frustrated that I don’t have anyplace I can turn them out without access to grass. The poor boys are stuck in their stalls for the time-being. I turn Buddy out while I clean stalls, but Utah pitches a hissy fit when he can’t see his buddy.

I bought some stall mats yesterday, but I don’t know how I’m going to get them into those stinky stalls all by myself. Ick. I’m going to try to get some stall shavings today. They’re supposed to be better for them, and everybody uses them. Nobody uses straw anymore. There must be a reason, right? I guess it’s more absorbent, and if it will help with those stinky stalls it will be worth it.

Planted

I got plants yesterday to put in the garden. I can’t wait to get at it!

I haven’t had overwhelming success with tomatoes yet, but I got several different kinds to try this year. Two of them are supposed to be good for container gardens, so that will help with my space issues. I’m also going to try some leeks. I have had great luck with peppers of all kinds–I hope saying that doesn’t jinx me–so I got several sweet peppers and some cayenne peppers.

I’m planning to spend my weekend in the garden, but you never know what will disrupt my plans. The best-laid schemes and all that.

I really need to get some fence put up for the horses. The current pasture fence is beyond pathetic and I want to replace it. Plus I want to fence off a smaller area inside that so I can make it a dry lot to keep the boys off the grass. I just keep waffling about what would be easiest to do first.

I have no idea how to actually build a fence. That’s problem number one. Problem number two is that I can’t decide exactly what I want. I’d like a good woven wire fence all the way around the perimeter, where the awful fence is now. Then I could section it off with electric fence. But if I take down the current fence to build a new one, where will I put the boys while I’m working on it? Or should I put up the electric fence and keep them in there while I replace the perimeter?

I’m paralyzed by the questions!