See the big problem with me is my heart. No, I have no physical aliments, my ticker is strong. It is my "heart" that is the problem. Why couldn't I have a harder heart? One that didn't have me melt at every furry or feathered creature that wandered my way. Why couldn't I be one of those people that takes the family on vacation simply after having the mail held?
No, I have to line up an in house pet sitter that is up to speed on horses, birds and attention starved dogs. I have to make sure that feed is in, that the pet numbers are lined up and that my fuzzy babies understand that mummy is leaving for just a bit!
I work hard. I make children's boutique clothing. I save my money to buy feed. Oh, sure, if I were not addicted to the fuzzy creatures of the earth, I could be spending money on myself. You know, lots of clothes, flashy jewelry, the works. But no, I buy at Goodwill and do without, so that my fuzzy and weathered babies can eat better and wear better.
So, after having a wonderful sale (I am not sure how that happened, I listed a steampunk outfit for 200 and it sold), I need hay. I make the call to Hal's Haystack and make arrangements to meet Hal to pick up about 25 bales of quality alfalfa.
I drive over to my parents' house to borrow their truck. When I get the keys, lo and behold, the truck battery is dead. Nuts. I need hay. I have half a bale left. I need hay!
I look at Zippy, my Dodge Caravan. It has Stow N Go. All the back and middle seats all fold easily into the van. I get to work tugging the straps and folding seats down. Soon, behind my seat is a veritable paradise of open space.
One small problem. The interior of my van is carpeted. Hmmm, I really need HAY! Okay, one large piece of painting tarp stretched along the back.
I expected to be able to load four bales of hay. This would tide us over until Dad's truck could be given new juice! However, I completely underestimated Hal's unique hay stacking abilities! He managed to get eight bales of hay in. So if you are ever asked, eight bales will fit in the back of one Dodge Grand Caravan.
Fast Forward: Truck repaired, 17 more bales brought in. Hay stacked neatly (mostly) in barn.
I go out to feed the horses breakfast feeling smug. I am a provider. I am cool on hay for at least several months.
I walk into the barn.....WHAT HAPPENED HERE!
The horses look at me innocently, their calm nickers proclaiming their hunger for breakfast. But how, how on God's green earth could they be hungry after pulling down three bales of hay and eating one entire bale!
I give them ugly, ugly looks. I heft a meager breakfast over the cattle panel that divides the hay from the horses. It bows suspiciously toward the hay. It strains against the hooks screwed into the barn walls.
My gelding, Shiloh merely looks at me, as if, really, did I expect anything less?
So, today, while the horses watched with disdain, I ran hot wire from the fence line down the wall and across the barn and along the barn divider. HA!
I tested it (using a screwdriver, I didn't touch it!) and it works. I look forward to seeing if my naughty equines have managed to by pass the wire and filch hay.
Now, how to keep the ducks from chasing me....
and how was your day?
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