I Don’t Hate The Snow, But. . . .

I’m sitting here wondering why my feet feel so damn cold, and then I glance down at my computer screen.

I really didn’t feel it when I went out earlier this morning in just a hoody to feed Claire and Honey. My blood is clearly thickening.

But I am upset now that Claire and Honey absolutely evaded all of Lisa and my efforts yesterday to chase them around the front of the property in order to get a halter on them and then their coats. Instead they both spent the good part of an hour racing around copses of trees through the deep snow drifts like Budweiser Clydesdales in a Superbowl Commercial while two human assholes chased them in circles around the front of the property with our curses freezing to our lips. For some reason, Lisa didn’t like the idea that I wanted her to stand in a certain restricted area before the racing mules with her arms outstetched, shouting “whoa,” while I chased them in her direction. She may have questioned my intentions. Finally, we gave up.

I got the sense that Claire didn’t appreciate us closing the gate that allows access to the front, locking them in. We’ve never done that before and it made Honey extremely anxious. So, Claire became very protective and ran interference for Honey rather than allowing us to catch her and then Honey. Given that the front is a level area and the side paddock’s gate is FUBAR, we thought it was a good idea at the time.

The mules laughed as we returned to the house, the halters now frozen around our own necks, arguing with each other, properly humiliated.

Anyway, the temperature is supposed to start warming up tomorrow and hit the 40s by Saturday. Shorts and t-shirt weather.

But, since Lisa is off again today, if I get a chance, I will take another shot at getting the coats back on the mules. I would rather them be a little warm for brief periods than too cold, ever.

I just have to be careful not to cause them to slip or otherwise injure their legs in the snow. That is far worse than anything the cold would do.

Until then, they know their way into the barn.

Thank God February is the shortest month.

Well at this temperature, there will be no rounds this morning. But I better get up front and check on Smokey.

I wonder if I’m even going to sweat on the treadmill today.

I’ve got all the basement faucets trickling cold water so the pipes don’t freeze and burst.

Wherever you fine, five readers are located, I hope that you are warm. And dry.

But most of all, make your Thursday a great one.