This morning, rather than write, I first took the horses for a ride around the loop. I rode Tinni, then Raudi, then Signy, then rode Siggi and ponied Signy. All, I think, were glad to get out. I had to go to town, so I figured I’d reverse the order in which I was doing things.
It was all quite uneventful, as is usually the case. Raudi tried but did not succeed in making a big deal about Poncho’s shoveling out his neighbor. The rest were pretty quiet, lost in their own horsey thoughts. Undoubtedly, they were wondering when I’d be doling out the grain and supplements—that is always the high point of their day. I think, as they chow down, that I’d like to prolong their great joy, but I can’t. Too much grain is bad for a horse.
Tomorrow I fly to Portland, Oregon to see my sister and mother. I’ve become a creature of routine, so leaving is difficult. It didn’t used to be this way; it used to be that I’d be on the move at a drop of a hat. Don’t know what I think about this. On the one hand, I wish that I was more mobile. But on the other, I like having the animals to tend to. I even enjoy cleaning the goat shed.
I will be away for a week. It’s a truism. If you live in Alaska, ya gotta get out in the winter. Pete and I were talking about the long lines at the Palmer Post Office, and he asked me if today, everyone was in good spirits. I said no, and he said he noticed that most people around here are grumpy. It’s a far cry from where he grew up in Whittier, CA. Yep, sun makes people happy, and we have not seen much of it here lately.
This is our tack room with a greenhouse on one side, a pallet shed for our garbage on the other side, and an outhouse on the third side.
Our high tunnel without the plastic