My friend, Nita and her husband, Jim (Heather's parents) are house sitting. They invited us up for a cookout to celebrate her birthday. Mr. Fry was unable to go because of his crazy work schedule (slept through the whole thing), but I made the beautiful drive north to Pottsboro, TX.
I SO covet this barn! If I had known then what I know now, I'd have built less house and some sort of barn instead. Who needs a guest room anyway? Doubt I could have afforded a setup this nice. No pix of the interior. I forgot my camera when we did the tour, and snapped these as I left. Love the pristine tack room and the feeding doors on the stalls that pivot outward. It even has an indoor wash bay.
Three of Nita's horses are there. From left: Diesel (nee Stevie, OTTB), Ishka (Red roan Appy, Nita's replacement for her aging mare), and Amber (Champagne QH), who was here last summer.
Other friends and family were in attendance at the small gathering, including 4 older children. The youngest, a boy of about 10, hung out with us horse crazies, hanging on every word, asking questions. Super nice kid.
The two older girls and the boyfriend of the oldest girl kept to themselves. We walked the horses over to the fence, thinking perhaps they might have been intimidated. As a group, the three hastily backed away from the fence. We asked if they wanted to give the horses a cookie. The younger of the two girls — you know the type: too much makeup (including glitter lip gloss), overdressed, crudely streaked highlights — sneered, "Eww, I don't want to smell like a f**king horse." First of all, little girl, you are way too young to have a mouth on you like that. I suppressed the urge to swing around and backhand her. Not my kid, after all. Instead, not missing a beat, I said, "That's the best smell in the world. I've waited my whole life for this." Nita and Heather agreed. The girl sneered again, "Eww. It is NOT. It's disgusting." She acted the same way around Nita's Rotties.
The love and appreciation of species other than your own is either a part of your soul or it isn't. I saw this quote over at (Not Quite) Home on the Range, which I think says it best: "Until one has loved an animal, part of their soul remains unawakened." Your soul is asleep, you silly, vain, vapid child. I predict pregnancy by the time you're 16.