Everything is back to normal at the black barn: no tent, no shoes, fat legs, J3 has come down with the flu or something, and Zoey jumped in bed with me this morning, so I almost slept through the alarm. He’s better than sleeping pills, that furry dog. I was up all night again (sometimes I just don’t sleep all that well), but as soon as he hops into bed (usually about 6 am) poof! Out cold. He’s very cuddly and warm.
Back to the fat legs. Tom wacked his right hind ankle, and TBone’s left front suspensory (the one he managed to dance on IN THE FREAKING STALL) was swollen again. More time off. I’ll never get those guys moving. Erik is doing great. Next month is almost the end of his lay up time. I’ll put a canter on that pony for Don, and then off to his new home! Nice Christmas present, eh? Farrier will be here tomorrow to reshoe everybody. Is reshoe even a word?
Weather is perfect again. I love this time of year – 40s at night, 70 during the day. Now that AATB is over with, maybe I’ll get to go hunting. I’ve missed all of cubbing. Opening meet is the 20th. Oh Dog. That’s only about a week away…
And Claire, sometimes I’ve just gotta talk about olives ’cause I got nuthin’ else to say. Just the way that it is. If everything stinks and everyone is stressed and I can’t come up with a happy thought, I’m going with olives. Fair warning.