Friday, March 12, 2010
I can feel it. Spring is almost here. My orchids are blooming. Little green sprouts are poking out of the ground. The girls are feeling frisky, We’re going to get a whopping rainstorm tomorrow, so I’ve been prepping the corral, the drainage ditch and the barn for the last few days.
In an effort to flatten the craters that the horses’ hooves have carved into the corral in front of their stalls, I had one of my neighbor’s teenage son drive his quad over and roll back and forth across the corral to smooth it out. It worked well, and I didn’t really even think about how the horses would react to this shiny red vehicle with big tires churning and wheeling around in front of their stall doors while they watched from just inside the barn. The young driver’s dad showed up and loudly announced, “I’m impressed!” I assumed he was talking about his son’s efforts, but he was talking about my horses. He couldn’t believe how calm and nonchalant they were about the noise and commotion.
I realized that I just take it as a given that they will be good. When we lived in Virginia, there were always huge tractors and earthmovers rumbling around the farm while I rode them. It was no drama. I’ve seen my husband use his chainsaw to cut wood on the other side of the fence here while the horses just ignore him and eat grass. The weed-whacker is also not a big deal. The only thing that ever seems to bother Silk is if a man wears a baseball cap and sunglasses. I’ll never know what that association is, but I can bet it has something to do with the guy who abused her. There’s no doubt that it still takes her a while to warm up to most men because of those terrible experiences.
Anyway, after everyone left, I pulled out the carrots to let the girls know that I appreciated them. In case you can’t tell from this picture, they have perfected the art of begging.