One Word Wednesday

Margaritas

They Can't Stay In Forever

We had rain, snow,
and mixtures of the two
3 times between Christmas and New Year's.

I considered hosting mud wrestling
at our place.

Turns out, the farm would be a better
mud wrestling venue.

This is what most of the pens look like
up there.

It was cold, and I thought I'd
visit Jaz in his stall.

But they can't stay in forever
or they'll tear the barn down,
especially the youngsters.

This is where I found my Little Man.

From left to right: Rico (Scorch's full brother), Crash,
Zire (fewspot), and Jazu, back there in his filthy green blankey.

They were up to their pasterns in mud,
but thoroughly enjoying their turnout.

It was so cold and I didn't want to remove Jaz's blanket.
The footing was just plain gross.
Any attempt at grooming would have been pointless.

I gave him a couple apples
and called it good.

It was a much better day to be indoors.

Geez, Mom.
We coulda told you that.

Scorch's First Walkabout

Today was farrier day at Casa Fry.
Scorch, whose feet are even bigger
than Poco's salad plates,
was overdue for a trim.
He was a very good boy for Jon.

At home, Scorch is kept in
a pen with young geldings
and soon-to-be's.
A couple horse trailers are parked in there,
left open so the youngsters can
climb in and out at will.
The trip from the farm to Casa Fry
was Scorch's first actual trailer ride.

I am Scorch's Aunt Leah.
I was present at his birth.
I named him.
I was the first person to sit on him.
He's not mine,
but I have a vested interest in him.
It delights me to
expose him to new things.

After his trim, I took him for his
first walk outside the fence,
or any fence, for that matter.

We walked down to where
the crazy Labs live
(they weren't out)
and back.

He was a bit worried when
cars went whizzing past
— THANK YOU, STUPID, THOUGHTLESS PEOPLE —
but he only spooked in place,
and only once.

He was skittish when we went past
the home under construction next door.
It smelled like they may have been
staining hardwood floors or cabinets,
and he didn't like that smell at all.

He wanted to be a little too close to me,
but was calm and steady.
I brought a crop, just in case,
but had no cause to use it.

Mmm, clover.

The mother lode!
Long, lush, moist winter grasses
on an undeveloped property.

I should have gotten a photo of Scorch
looking over the top of this big dirt mound
(yes, that's the real angle, not just
a wonky camera shot),
at his fretting buddy
just across the road.