You know you've won, in life, when people pay you to do what you would pay them to let you do


Tuesday, April 13, 2010

This Week's Blizzard

I just can't figure out why some mother's (cows) think that the middle of a blizzard is the best time to calve. Well, I can't really blame her, I guess. How much does she know, being a heifer and all? I saw the tail up in the air and I knew, but what could I do? All winter I hadn't been able to get near enough to even get a good look, thanks to the 'Old Bag' that was running with her. And the wind was howling and the snow was blowing so I think I only saw because the two of them didn't see (me) when I drove by.

I had to get home and batten down the hatches. My two old geldings that I had been babying this winter were in the corral with no wind break along with the 'Kid' (who mistakingly thinks I'm his person). I fought the wind to get into the barn, locked the collies in one of the 2 box stalls, and and got one halter down from it's hook. By the time I got back outside the oldest gelding was waiting to get in the barn. I could barely see for the the wind whipping the snow in my eyes. I just put the halter shank around his neck and finished putting the halter on when I got him in the barn and tied him in the tie stall.

The 'Kid', a good little blaze-faced sorrel 3-year old I had ridden a few times, followed us in. I opened the box stall and he went in. I petted his face and told him, "Smart kid," then closed the stall door.

I could hear Pic, my paint horse, crying above the howling wind rattling the tin roof of the barn. I called out his name and he found me at the barn door. He walked into the other tie stall in our small barn and I took down another halter, put it on, and tied him there. The mangers were already filled with hay and I added a can of oats for each of them. Inside it was cozy and almost warm. I stayed a while in the barn and listened to the sound of the wind howling and the driving snow hitting the tin roof and the calm peaceful sound of my horses munching their oats. 

"Miserable weather," I thought. Then the little poem I learned as a kid popped into my head:

    "Whether the weather be fine,
     Or whether the weather be not,
     Whether the weather be cold,
     Or whether the weather be hot,
     We'll weather the weather, 
     Whatever the weather,
     Whether we like it or not."

Yup, whether we like it or not.




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