Perfection, thy name is Firefly

I’m having a perfect day. I have my horses in the back yard, it’s sunny and warm, and I’m wearing a tank top. Bonus: Foods for Living started carrying chocolate chip cookies I can eat. (Free of Gluten, Soy, Corn, and Dairy!) I’m eating delicious leftovers for lunch (Chicken baked with rice) and I can hear the ponies nickering in the field. It’s glorious.

The kitties are at the vet, getting spayed and neutered.

The farrier (cold-shoeing blacksmith, for people who don’t know) came yesterday. Here’s an old poem that I wrote about this lovely task:


It’s so exciting, how I love to see,
The farrier came to trim my pony.
Her hooves were long, and need it badly,
“Six weeks turned to eight,” I thought aloud sadly.

When that truck arrived, I pulled out the girl,
She tossed her big head and made her tail swirl.
“How are you?” The farrier said with a smile,
As she worked her voice moved at a minute-a-mile.

“This horse needs some shoes,” she said with a grunt.
“Ok,” I said, putting on my bravest front.
The farrier trimmed, and she rasped a good bit,
She put on front shoes and made them both fit.

I looked down at the shiny new shoes,
Thinking of how on the trails we would cruise.
I heard the amount, then felt bereft,
The farrier, done, took her check and left.

I turned to my horse and then hugged her tight.
She went in her stall and I turned out the light.
The saddest thing that took the wind from my sails–
I spent more on hooves than I’ve spent on my nails.

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