I then cleaned the goat pen. I should clean it as often as I clean the horse enclosures. If I was as lax cleaning the horse pen, I’d be up to my eyeballs in shit. I was only up to my ankles in goat shit today.
I cleaned the shed – the hay, urine, and manure layers and is impossible to get up with a shovel, so as is now the habit, I pull the sheets of crap up with my hands. My nose is close to the ground, what I smell is ammonia.
Outside, same crap, same situation as inside their pen except for the fact that I was now dealing with moldy hay. There has been considerable erosion on the backside of the shed, so there is a lot of mud. The back area is sloping so the mud was slick. I fell down several times. Sassy watched me clean up: she was obviously intrigued. I did hear her say that what I was doing didn’t look like it was fun. Sassy, you got it right.
As I was doing all this, I thought that, yes, I’d much rather have been out on a ride.
If it wasn’t the final day of hunting season, I would have felt far worse about not heading out on a woods ride. The first and the last few days are the most dangerous, at the beginning of the season everyone is out hoping to bag the big one. At the end of the season, those who haven’t bagged the big one are still out there. These are the real amateurs, that is those who on foot or on hoof have to watch out for. They’ll take their chances and shoot at anything. Anything includes chestnut horses.
I have to be inside tomorrow, pedaling books. Bet the sun shines. Hope that I lose.
Next: 262. 9/24/22: Up and Down