All of us in Alabama are hoping the monsoons are behind us.
Droughts of last Summer that killed so many trees were chased by rainfall measured in feet. One day, we're cutting dead pines from the drought, another day, cutting uprooted oaks from the saturated grounds. A bipolar Mother Nature isn't a pretty picture.
The horses have gone through 80 bales more of shavings this month than the last because they've been kept up for their own good. That's a lot of mucking. And dispensing hay. And refilling water buckets.
And glamping in the barn office when the horses are in their stalls overnight.
Apples and sugar peas are favored snacks around here. We share.
To live without a dog is unthinkable. I'd shrivel up and die.
