No T shirt wearing horseback riding happened this weekend. Just some very cold rain. The horses have been living outside for a month now and Dad put them back in the barn after church. The old King was standing by the barn door shivering. I suspect he's learned to do this at the right time in order to get a cushy night's sleep. He's very dramatic.
So, upon arriving, this is the first thing we see:
My old man chopping the hoses, getting ready to yank the motor out. My first thought is, "Oh, Dad's getting ready to yank a motor." My second thought was, "This is not normal to a large part of the population!" My third thought was, "I must share this with the non-motor-yanking world! It's too wonderful to miss out on!"
Now take a minute to soak up this photo. Just love the details. Do notice, please, that this old station wagon has been painted yellow with a brush and yes, YES, it does have "SHAGAN WAGON" painted on the side. I haven't faked any of this. I told you, the only thing I've ever faked, EVER, is my own happiness. And I'm feeling much better now. This is all real.
It used to say "Space Shuttle Training Vehicle" on the back door.
Dad got this car from a teenager who actually drove it like that- I should clarify, like that, only in working order- for a year. This car was his sweet ride to high school. I dig this kid. He's got guts and a sense of humour. And, he's obviously a very optimistic feller. When he was done with the car, he gave it to Dad for parts.
Ah, parts. One can never have too many parts.
So, there we are, another 305 V8 for the collection. And a good clean frame to put under my 57 Pontiac. Plus, and here's the real bonus, the PRICE OF SCRAP IS UP! There's a major shipping-out going on out at the farm.
I did not ride at all this weekend. I hugged them. Jethro's dad gave us a bottle of wine to take back to the farm to enjoy with our pizza. Grandpar believes in wine. Later, when I went out to put the horses in the corral for the night, I breathed my wine breath in the King's nostrils. Then he breathed his grass breath in my face. We're like best friends.
Another weekend highlight was our dog walk. I still don't trust the little townie dog off the leash out there, especially with the traffic on the highway. Oh, and the agricultural fertilizers in the fields. I feel like such an idiot walking him down the road, in the ditch, on a leash. However, let it be known that when he squatted to poop we did not pick it up with a plastic bag! No way! That one's gonna sun dry!
Jethro imagined how we looked, walking along in our coveralls and rubber boots, with our leashed dog. You know, I think he could be converted. He was one happy puppy, bouncing through the shoulder-high grass. He is a dog, after all. I have yet to meet a dog who was miserable in the country.
After the rain, the horses are very clean. Our little Lady is white this year. She doesn't even have her freckles on her shoulders anymore. Appaloosas are something else; I was told they can change colour every year until they reach adulthood. She's five now, and I wonder if she's done now!
This one really shows how different their personalities are. Horsonalities. She's the first one to walk up to greet us. He needs to stand there being magnificent for a moment, letting me soak in the beauty of He Who Rules the Pasture.
I rubbed their faces and then we went home to our cat, He Who Rules the Couch, who acted like he hadn't even noticed we'd been gone.