Two Things....

First, a correction on the situation with the horse yesterday. I was misinformed. The vet that the girl took the horse to said it was bad off, and she should leave the horse at the vet's office, and if she insisted on taking him somewhere, to take him to Fort Collins. She ignored that advice and brought him back to the barns, to put him in a stall that was being rained into through the barn door, and leave him alone all night.

The next day, after he left the barn, she took him back to the vet's, where the vet recommended euthanasia. So, she hauled him back to the barn, and shot him. Which would be fine, except for the fact that she didn't manage the job on the first shot, and let the poor horse bleed and suffer for thirty minutes before she tried again.

And, this part is hearsay, but I understand that the colic was caused by riding the horse until he was extremely hot, in the cold weather, and putting him away wet. A definite recommendation for cooling your horse out before putting them away.

The other thing is a lot happier. I got my last Lit paper back today, the one that I really wasn't happy with because I made the mistake of putting it off until the last minute.

On the last page is a note of "Wow! Excellent!"

I got a hundred on it.

It would be really easy now for me to get cocky about things!

Little Fuzzballs, Livin Large

As we all know, young of any species tend to grow. Since I'm honorary grandmother to three kittens, it's my responsibility to make sure that they have room to grow. As you probably recall, I had arrangements made to keep the furry ones out of trouble:



But, since they're getting bigger:


They needed different arrangements:



No, really. They're getting big. Like, Pixel Mamma has to hold on to them to give them a bath:



And of course, after a few moments of panic at their being out of the box, once I'd re-arranged things so that she could put them back in the box and still have room, she promptly stretched out on the sheet and made herself comfortable as far from the box as she could get. Now, if she follows the pattern she had the last time, she'll make sure they're "in" the box whenever she's not in the room, until they're big enough to run around on their own anyway, and make sure they stay on the sheet the rest of the time. She's very good about the whole "den" thing, until they start getting really mobile, and then she starts demanding babysitting.

I didn't *do* it! I just told them how....

Every one of the girls on my feed crew were dosed with estrogen-laced crack, tonight, I swear. They were all hyper and laughing and being very "girl."

Of course, when I heard of their plan for the evening, going to Wally World, filling a cart with random items, and dropping them into other people's carts, I had to speak up, in the name of maturity, to stop this juvenile delinquency. I was, after all, the responsible adult there.

Yeah, right. If you believe that one, I've got some excellent ocean front property I want to discuss with you.

My contribution was minimal, actually, I merely told them that for maximum amusement value the items should be entirely off the wall. Pregnancy test for an eighty year old woman. Douche for the nice clean cut young man buying all of the salad components. A box of condoms and the largest tub of vaseline available there for the mother with three kids in tow, preferably with one of them being fourteen or older, to open up the debate on whom, exactly, put the items into the cart.

Of course, for real entertainment on those sorts of missions, you have to scratch the bar code on the box or the sticker, so that it won't read properly. Otherwise, the people might get all the way home and wonder why they bought a tub of whipped cream, a jar of pickled okra, and six bottles of Astro Glide, which thought is amusing but deprives you of your god-given right to witness said confusion.

Up Since Five

Legs ache... Knee's tweaked.... Ears are frozen...

But, the horse that coliced yesterday, that the vet sent back with only instructions not to feed or water him today, that we found down in a stall and not breathing at feed crew this morning, is up and on his way to the vet's again.

Even a weak horse is stronger than a person, especially when the person is trying to rock them up when they've gone down while walking, and the horse is flinging himself back down. And it kind of hurts when they knock you down where you're bracing against their shoulder to keep them from flopping sideways, and land on your leg. Thank goodness for my work boots, or my foot would probably hurt more than it does.

But, he's in the trailer, and on his way. Hopefully the vet will be able to fix him up.

Meanwhile, I'm not in good graces on the second floor of the boy's dorms. They kind of frown on it when you spend five minutes solid banging on a door without getting an answer.

Thankfully, some people answer their phones, and another truck and trailer was found.

I don't think I'll ever make nice with the dude down the hall from the room I was banging on, though, he cussed at me and I flipped him the bird.

Blech

Yawn

I stretched and rolled out of bed, stumbling to the kitchen and my coffee pot.

Ahh, caffeinated goodness.

I groggily sat at my laptop and called up email, my blogger dashboard, and the first of my daily blog checks while I sipped my coffee.

At the end of the long list of things that I check every morning is the weather. That way, I'm coherent enough to decide what the appropriate amount of clothes is for the day. This time of year that can vary greatly from day to day, since the weather will swing from seventy degrees one day, to freaking cold in the afternoon the next.

Well, doesn't that just take the cake.

You see, when I checked the weather this morning, it told me that it would be wet this afternoon. And that it would be cold. And that it would turn to snow this afternoon.

And today, I had two stalls to clean, one to level out and re-bed, and Monkey's things to move back into his old stall, which we had pulled the mats back on to let the swamp underneath dry out.

I had all of that done by nine this morning, and I was the last one at the barn. I also alternately froze my cookies off and dripped with sweat.

Have I mentioned that I hate winter? And the cold?

Three pairs of socks and my toes were still frozen.

Now, to laundry. Whites are in, colors are next. Soon as one load of whites are out of the dryer I'll change into some warm pj's so that I can wash what I'm wearing now, these jeans have seen three days at the barn and they're getting a little icky.

After I finish my clothes here, it's off to the laundromat to wash my comforter. The dryers here are in no way big enough for my nice fluffy comforter, it wouldn't even all fit in there. That's why I love it so much!

Whoopsie!

The pictures of the buried tractor have arrived! There are better pictures of E digging it out, but lacking his permission to post his face on this blog, I've used only those that don't show it, which is really a shame, my favorite pic out of all of them shows his face, and his expression is what makes it so fantastic. Anyway, here are the pics ya'll have been waiting for!

This baby is stuck!

"Start digging, and keep digging."

"Get in there and dig out the frame, or it's gonna stay right where it is...."

They did manage to get that puppy popped out yesterday morning, and there's a big 'ol hole where it was.




Edit: Upon consulting with E, he gave me permission to post his picture, so here's my favorite one!

E, AKA Digger.

Today I was mixing up the grain for the other horse that I'm taking care of this weekend before feed crew, so it would be ready and I could just put it in the stall after he'd gotten his hay and eaten some of it, and E came by. Showed me his new camera, which is pretty spiffy, and had me take a picture of him on the tractor, since everyone "back home" wonders just what he does all day.

Then, he went on about his business, and so did I. That is, until he came back to the barn.

"Farmgirl, what do you know about heavy equipment?"

"Er... that depends, what's the problem?"

"Well.... I got the tractor stuck in the sand."

"What?"

"I was moving some sand to pile by the rodeo stalls, but someone plowed over by where I get the sand, and the tractor is stuck."

I shook my head and told him after I finished with my feed crew duties I'd come take a look.

"You do realize that I have to get pictures of this, right?"

"Yes, I do realize that, thank you very much."

So I traipsed out after feed crew, and man was he right when he said it was stuck.

The tractor at the barn is just a little one, with a bucket on the front, for all around work. E managed to bury it to the frame.

"I don't think it's coming out, it's stuck."

"Oh, I think you could get it out, but you're gonna have to dig."

So, he dug. Then I dug. Then he dug. I took pictures while he was digging... I'm going to snag them off his myspace as soon as they're up and share them... I laughed my butt off the whole time.

"No, dig more over there. Deeper, and slope it more."

"I'm glad someone is thinking here, I'm just frustrated."

We never did get the tractor out, he's gonna try again tomorrow. With everyone there for class. We discussed it and his new nickname is probably going to be either Sandy or Digger. We also discussed the possible implications of his being the only black guy in the program and someone mis-hearing "Digger" from fifty feet away, which we both found amusing.

I'll update with photos as soon as I can kype them.