Good morning (afternoon now)! It's foggy here, and now drizzling. I missed my opportunity to ride Lance before the rain started because a friend called and we talked a loooong time, but connecting with friends is important. He and Ollie got to run and play in the arena last night for quite awhile, so at least he got some exercise then – and probably would have had even less than usual to give me today.
Still no tree or indoor decorations here, but last Friday after school, Brian put up Christmas lights outside. By the time Rick got home with his mom in tow for Brian’s birthday supper, the house looked very festive. Other than missing a spot to put presents (not that we go overboard with those), I am not missing having a Christmas tree. I did get to go to an annual Christmas party I enjoy last Sunday. It meant leaving Brian home alone which I do with trepidation, but it seemed to work out okay. (Or at least what I don’t know won’t kill me….) And several of my horse acquaintances who were there have come out on the other side of teenage boys and lived to tell about it, which is always encouraging to hear.
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Birthday boy in the jacket my sister sent him |
It was a busy weekend, starting with prepping for that Friday birthday supper. My MIL spent Friday night here so she could ride with us to a church where Brian's bell choir was performing the next day. Saturday evening we went to a talent show (where the bell choir performed again) and senior class fundraising dinner at the school; we went early to help, then Rick left early to clean out the clogged-up woodstove and pack while I stayed for the full program and all the clean-up afterwards. At o'dark thirty Sunday morning I drove Rick to the Portland airport, getting back before sunrise (and son-rise), took a short nap, got the son to RISE so I could take him to work, came back home (the scenes below caught my eye on the way home),
picked him up from work, came back home, then took him to Salem for the third bell choir performance of the weekend. 😳
This final performance was a prequel for the Salem Pops Orchestra concert which many of the high school students were attending followed by dinner out (a "vegetarian" version of public school prom), so most of the bell choir members were dressed in their fancy formal attire. (No, Brian didn't go. His 'girlfriend,' who doesn't go to his school and we've never met, couldn't get off work for it.)
Something I haven't mentioned before is that I'm tentatively horse-shopping. Lance is so compromised that when it comes to a riding horse he is no longer my "mental health mustang;" instead he is my "heartbreak kid" – and could end up being my neck-breaker. At first it was all online window-shopping, without seeing anything in my price range of real interest. Then I looked up a Morgan sales flyer I got last spring and contacted one of the breeders who had advertised in it, resulting in a road trip with a friend to see his horses. None suited me, but he told me about one he had at a place closer to me that I've since looked at as well. This last horse does interest me, but I have two big obstacles – hay and husband. We didn't have enough hay just for the horses and sheep that we have, not to mention what we’d need if we added a third horse, and hay has been really hard to find around here. And my husband has been predictably poo-poo on the idea, although there are mixed signals. (I have enough funds set aside for the purchase, but I do need to have Rick to do the pre-purchase exam and I want his consent. Many moons ago he bought a horse without consulting me 😡 and I am determined not to do the same to him.)
That is a rather long explanation of what transpired yesterday. The Morgan's helpful owner had texted me the name and number of someone with hay for sale (and offered to haul it for me 😮 which of course I couldn't accept without a commitment to buy his horse), and yesterday afternoon was the only window of dry weather and available time (the seller's, Brian's, and mine) to get a load. So I left work early enough to wrestle the sideboards off our flatbed trailer, pick up Brian from school and drive nine more miles SE to the hay seller's.
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A treat for the eyes before the unloading began last night |
Folks, I've been spoiled by our favorite local grower. His bales are 60# or less; that's 68 three-string, 100# bales. But beggars can't be choosers, and I was just thankful to have found decent hay relatively close without breaking the bank! Most of it was loaded for us on the farm; when we got home last night it was pure man- and woman-power to get it stacked in our barn, and we were both hurting by the end (and still are). There is NO WAY I could have done this without my strapping son's help! Now I have to wait and see if my husband will relent on the horse....