First I’m awakened at 5:15 am because Hubby wants to get up early. The only station my little alarm clock gets is the country station and by the time 5:30 am rolls around, I’m thoroughly annoyed with the music (sorry country lovers, but they play the same song over and over and over…) so I threaten to roll out of bed to turn it off. Hubby says, “No, I’ll get up” and he does. He takes a shower and heads off to work and at around 5:45 am I get up, throw on some clothes and head out to feed. Abby and my bike await (it’s a bike because that’s what Annie likes to call it.)
Well, are you coming?
I start the ol’ thing up and let her idle a little bit then head over to the hay pile.
I roll, push and pull a bale on to the back of the bike while Abby… (notice the butt in the upper right corner?)
“Guards” and is “On Duty.” No help with loading the hay from her.
I load a few flakes on the front of the bike for the rams then jump on and start to roll toward the ram pen.
Once I’m almost there, I realize that I have forgotten my pocket knife in my a.) Pants Pocket in the bathroom, b.) on the counter, c.) where on earth is that knife anyway? So I stop at the house and go to retrieve it.
Meanwhile the horses are waiting “patiently” though an irritated stance is taking shape.
A couple of glares and some yawns.
And some more yawns.
Did you know that barbed wire was invented by an equine veterinarian in the slow season? It’s true — or not. But the good thing is, that when you have less horses, you have less injuries.
So after I cut open the twin and feed the horses their flakes, I jump back on the quad and drive up to the big gate by the barn and fling it open as fast as can be before the cattle catch up.
Once I’m in, I proceed down the pasture peeling off the flakes one by one and tossing them on the ground as I roll slowly. It isn’t uncommon for a cow to bump in to me or me into a cow as they want to feed right from the quad. I’m normally surrounded and they don’t like to let me through.
I then proceed down to where Sir Loin is currently being housed and throw him a very large pile of hay.
Everything seems very peaceful — the horses are content.
The cows are content.
Not anymore! Muwaha-ha-ha-ha!
Once the sheep are out, it’s like a plague taking over the hay piles. They’re everywhere.
So I stand and watch them all enjoy their breakfast as one huge happy family and watch as they all interact with eachother.
The birds even join in.
Everything seems so peaceful until I see this.
Aww, look! The 3 month old lambs are taking a peaceful stroll down a country road.
Obviously they have some mischief on their little woolly minds.
And so goes my morning.
I’ve really got to replace that gate.
All this in my flip flops. I really don’t think I’m the only one — Hubby thinks I am, but I am thinking this attire is not limited to California.