Sundry

I promised myself that I’d do a better job keeping up the blog, but there’s really not much to report. I turned over the “new” novel — new to everyone else, but not me, since I’ve been working on the thing for years — and have taken most of this week to play catch-up on all kinds of house and farm stuff. There’s a bunch of vegetation that’s grown up through the horse fence that I have to cut back or chop down, not to mention the fence itself. And don’t even get me started on all the work I have to do inside, or (sigh) the taxes.

Horses really DO think the grass is greener on the other side of the fence, and one of ours routinely leans with his not inconsiderable weight against the upper board. Eventually the board breaks, and then I have to cut a new one to size and replace it, a process that takes 45 minutes ONLY if everything works perfectly. Usually it’s more like an hour and 15 minutes. I spent most of Monday repairing everything currently busted and cast a sad eye on the other boards that are ready to go if he decides to lean on them a few more times…

At some point here this summer I’m going to have to rebuild an entire pasture gate because said horse has been leaning against that and it’s pretty much held together now with chewing gum and wishes. With my limited carpentry skills and lack of proper tools, all the slant cuts and precision necessary for gate building seems a little beyond me, so I haven’t decided how to handle it. Measure it and ask a friend or the father-in-law for help cutting the boards? Hire it out? Try to push through and have it end up looking like a 3rd grade science project, complete with glue sticking to the sides of everything?

On your left is Trigger, probably eyeing that yummy looking grass on the other side of the fence. Despite being Slayer of Fences he’s my favorite of our horses because he’s the most interested in interacting with humans and has a really nice disposition. Once, I was out in the middle of the pasture with my board and drill and saw and my bag of screws, and he wandered up to see what was going on. He stood there for a minute, snorted hello, then bent down, dainty as you please, picked up the paper bag with the screws, and trotted off. As soon as I shouted “hey!” in indignation he dropped it and wandered away.

I swear he was teasing me.