Dive In

What do I see when I look at my boys?  Everything.  

They mean everything to me and they anchor my days.  I start with them and I hold them close when the day is done.

Micah, now at 6 and a half months, is heavier than a feed bag, topping 58 lbs.  Dax is more nimble and he'd better stay that way at his 61 pounds.  

Dax will need to remain one step ahead of his little tormenting brother.

Our now daily ritual:

Every day to tire them puppies out.  

All Hot Air

Saturday morning, I managed to squeeze in a visit to my local farmer's market. Working every Saturday has kept me from experiencing the little hamlet of Crawford's market day.  But, if you arrive at 7 AM, you are rewarded...

Who knew they offered rides!

Ditched the dogs with a stranger and hopped in.

I must do this again... ride in a balloon that is. Seeing the hounds behaving themselves wasn't too shabby either.

For the Love of Cody

There's a kiddo in the barn by the name of Cody.

We call him Special K. If there would be a short bus in the equine world,  he'd be on it. The horses have been getting fed twice a day,  at the same times,  for over 3 years.  Yet,  he usually shows up last,  utterly bewildered,  like he never got the memo.

We love our Special K and appreciate how patient he is with his twice a day breathing treatments for his asthma.
I can't do much to control what allergens are out in the pasture, but the barn is my kingdom and it shall be as dust free as possible.

Scary what obsessive compulsive disorder and a Shopvac can induce.  Every nook and cranny, between rafters, between joists, the entire hay loft vacuumed free of cobwebs and dust.  No better place to be in Alabama summer than a hot hay loft.

Spent days on this projects.  Now, I'm going to need breathing treatments.  Still, not as bad as the first time I did this 3 years ago, when 20 years of dust was so thick that I had to shovel it before I could vacuum.

For the love of Cody.

Behaving Badly

For one entire, whole, complete, long month, I tried to stay off the foot.

Things were going swimmingly, until the torn flexor tendon in my hand worsened.

I told myself it was just another hurdle, nothing that couldn't be overcome.

Minor inconvenience. Surprisingly painful however.
Then the cherry on the icing.  One sleepless night spent writhing in pain, to the point that I was too incapacitated to drive myself to the hospital.  I self diagnosed appendicitis.

Wrong.  The lone, shriveled up, useless ovary they left in me decided to rupture.
That's it, I'm officially a beat up battleship to be decommissioned.

I  grocery shop in an electric cart, this is the end.  Or is it?  July 1st, I kicked all my crutches, knee scooter and electric scooter to the curb.  Done.

My coworkers attempt to rein me in, but I revolt, take a chainsaw and go attack a tree by myself.  Don't mess with me when I'm pissed off.

103'F.  This is more like it.

Recovery time over and done,

This is how we roll.
July 15th, I strut into my surgeon's office, plunk myself down and await the reprimand for walking with my boot cast instead of using my knee scooter.  He can tell from the wear on my boot that his orders were tossed out the window. Looking at the Xrays, he notes exceptional healing and instead of 6 more weeks in the boot, he tells me that if I can stand it, to try on a shoe. I get an A+.

Decommissioned my arse, the SS Smith has plenty more battles to be fought.  She's back.
Dinged up, limping, more tempestuous, but BACK!

Adventures of Online Dating

3 years ago, my pasture mate left,  I'd been marooned by myself ever since. 

My mom encouraged me to follow my heart. This is the ad in SingleHorses.com that made me swoon.

It took a lot for my family to let me go,  I'd been with them 20 years.  

They knew when Henry and I met that the stars were aligned for this to be a match made in heaven. 

Love is in the air...

... everywhere you look around.

My new mom is Jamie.  She said something about her needing another horse like a hole in the head. But those were the terms my old mom set:  only Miss Jamie can have me, so my new name is Roscoe Smith.

I wanted to meet my new brothers, Axel and Angus.

But, mom says my only job right now is to be with Henry. Easy, I already follow him everywhere.

Not a bad deal.

I even get my own stall.  I've never even had a barn before.  

Henry is back to being happy...

And I'm putting on weight and loving my new life.

The Sandman

Back in late June, I went for a 24 hour visit to Canada.  Might I say that flying with a boot cast is the way to go.

Super friendly people whisk you past the queues at security, up hidden elevators, navigate  you through the terminals on giant golf carts.  It's the royal treatment.

I rented a car in Toronto and made tracks to Ottawa...

Squeezing in an hour's visit with my dad and a short pit stop at my mom's too.  Then back to Toronto.

What the hell was this all about you say.
As the mission has been declassified, I can tell you about Operation Sandman.

Meet the Sandman, aka Sandy. He's my best friend's 12 year old Italian Greyhound.  It was my task to coordinate surgery for him and get him down here. Hence the clandestine flight to Canada:  to be a second chauffeur for monsieur Sandy.

Road trip!

The lengths we will go for our furry companions.

Two thirds of the way there.

Sandy brought an appropriate disguise for his covert entry into Alabama.

Next, we try to assimilate Anne-Marie to Dixie culture.  First stop: Wiley's Pitt BBQ in middle of nowhere Smuteye, Alabama.

The chef from Toronto concurs, these are some of the best ribs around.

Next attempt at blending in: we visit the Auburn Arboretum in 100'F humidity.

Agent 46 passed incognito.
Meanwhile, the Sandman had his surgery and was recovering well.

All thanks to our Dr. Carattini.

Back on the farm, Anne-Marie toiled tirelessly to prepare one gourmet meal after another.

My part in all this:  stuffing my face. I excelled.

So this is what it's like to have a personal chef.  I need to play the lottery more often!

Who else has a chef who can double as a farm hand?

Right down to administering Cody's asthma treatments.

Very versatile this little Canadian!
It was with a very heavy heart that I bid them goodbye.
Mission accomplished:  Operation Sandman was a success!