Of mud, ice, and broken barns

My quest continues...is there a mini-farm out there to fit our needs and our budget? Yet another ancient barn, cobbled together, but not horse-worthy. I wish realtors would stop using wide angle lenses which give a misleading view of how much open land exists. The last place I checked out had less than two acres available for pasture. Three horses would have that eaten down to dirt in no time. So the hunt goes on. In the meantime, I'm sanding floors--oh, what fun!

And if the paint dust wasn't bad enough, now that mud season is here, the dust and hair is flying off the ponies. I've thought about wearing a dust mask when I groom them! Each day, their mud wallows seems to get a little deeper. Just glancing at Rolex, I thought we had a rogue Appaloosa in the herd the other day. Mud splattered her legs, her chest, and even her face. So, who's "afraid" of stepping in water? You're busted Rolex!

I convinced John we needed to take some time off from repairs to get in a a little ride on Saturday afternoon. John and I need to keep the horses worked, at least a little, so they aren't too crazy when we finally throw a leg over them. I cannot imagine what they would be like if they spent more time stabled and less time turned out.

Last night, as I drove up to the barn, they were gallivanting around at the top of the hill, even old Vance. I'm guessing spring fever and lack of work has them just itching for some fun.

The snow has finally left, except for small remnants lurking in dark corners under the hemlocks. Our weather hasn't really been too warm, and the infernal winds seem to never quit. Here it is late April, and I really wished I'd had my jacket on for our afternoon ride--the Carhartt vest was not enough!

Harley sniffed at the water, but didn't drink, something I always encourage him to do. This means Rolex has to wait, otherwise he'll panic if she's gone off without him. After much snuffling, with no drinking, we pushed onward and upward.

Every so often, Rolex "gets stuck" and needs Harley to take the lead. He willingly does so with his ears going from relaxed to upright, on full alert. There's a corner in the trail that leads around some thick, stubby pine trees. All the horses peer around this corner, like they expect the boogie man to jump out. Harley forged ahead of Rolex, but remained on guard, ready for phantom monsters.

But when your bravery fails, it's always good to relinquish the lead position and get a good head pat. All our horses love to do this, especially when they have sweaty heads. As a holdover from their racing days when they were ponied at the track, they all willingly stand by their trail mate, ready to receive a carrot an a good rub.

With spring off to such a late start this year, we needed to purchase more hay. Two truckloads and 85 bales later, we're now all set until the grass comes in--hopefully by May! Our supplier still had some lovely second crop timothy mix, but when we pulled up for our last load, people were lined up! This weather has affected everyone in New England. And given this past winter, we should probably budget for more hay for next year!

So here it is, almost May, and I'm still lighting fires at night. Are we indeed headed towards another ice age? Last week, as I drove out to the barn one morning, frozen dew frosted the landscape. But wherever the sun touched the earth, it appeared the land was on fire, smoking in the sunlight. Truly beautiful, but downright chilly!