Another morning feeding horses, which is why I’m late starting this blog. We have a little snow, and more coming on.
It’s nice in the barn–if you don’t mind the smell. When the horses hear the truck drive up, they know Room Service has arrived and start nickering and carrying on. I head on in and flip the lights on. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Breakfast is served.”
Each horse gets a scoop of Equine Senior, a supplement to make sure their bones stay strong, etc., and then I start lobbing grass-hay into feeders. When they’ve had an hour or so to eat–right about now–I’ll go back out and turn them loose for the day. Mucking out stalls is harder–LOTS harder–but I have Mary Ann to help me and, frankly, since my job is so sedentary, it’s good for me to do some physical work.
I’m starting book one of the Montana Creeds series this morning–“Logan’s Return”. If you read “The McKettrick Way”, you know who Logan is. If you haven’t, I won’t spoil it for you by telling.
I’ve been hearing a lot lately about the things Santa can’t say. “Ho, ho, ho,” for instance. What a wheelbarrow load THAT is. Ho-ho-ho is an old-fashioned way of denoting laughter–not a slur on the honor of womanhood. And then there’s “Merry Christmas”. None of us are supposed to say that, either, apparently. My feelings on that are not exactly politically correct. Freedom of religion is a right in this country–unless you’re a Christian. Now don’t go getting me wrong; I have infinite respect for other people and their right to worship as they please. I just want the same courtesy in return. And don’t even get me started on taking “In God We Trust” off the money.
Before I get myself in so deep I need a shovel, let me just say, “Ho, ho, ho, and Merry CHRISTmas!”