Really, I do. And it’s a good thing, because we have a lot of it.
I’m basically snowed in, in fact, but that’s okay, because I’m concentrating on the book. And I’m loving the process. With me, being snowed in is not so much about not going out as knowing I can’t go out even if I want to. (There are reasons why certain close family members would tell you I can be contrary about some things.)
The horses seem to be enjoying the weather, roaming their ten acres all day and playing their distinctly equine games. At night, though, they head into their stalls willingly–Old Buck sometimes puts himself away. The Canadian wrangler leaves one stall door open, in case Buck decides he’s had enough of the cold–too much for old bones like his. And mine.
Sadie and Bernice are puzzled by the white stuff, but wade through it when necessary. The cats, on the other hand, won’t go any further than the edge of the downstairs patio. Since they love to roam the yard–Cha Cha especially–I sometimes feel sorry for them.
As for the people on the Triple L, well, most of them are working too hard. The Canadian Wrangler not only takes care of the horses, he plows the roads. Jen drives Sadie back and forth to training three times a week and runs errands for me on the other two. Mary Ann, the Trail Boss, oversees everything and usually has to be told to quit working and go home. Chris, intermittent dog nanny, computer geek and housekeeper’s helper, is a good hand as well.
And the book awaits, so I’m out of here.