There’s Gonna Be a Hot Time in the Old Town Tonight…

   Deer Season.

   The girls will no longer be able to eat out in the far end of the field. One of the neighbors has a deer blind in the woods near the river, so I refuse to consider letting the girls out back. They had  been out there for 3-3.5 hours to graze every day, but I can’t, in good conscience, let them graze there unless they all have colored blankets. It’s  important that the horses are kept close to the barn until firearm season is over. I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night otherwise. I still worry, but at least now, the horses are in a very enclosed area with an obvious fence. They seem bored with the hay instead of grass, but this is the situation going into winter. They just have to deal.

    Horses weren’t my only responsibility today.

   Raking. Twigs piled high. Lugging tubs of leaves. Burning. Flames.

   I love Firefly Farm. It’s delightful, inspiring, peaceful, and full of other pleasant adjectives. Check out the header photo above. All the leaves from the arch of trees have fallen–and I’m raking. And raking. And Raking. I think I’ll be finished with this project by next spring. Maybe.

   I cleaned up parts of the barn, set up the feed tubs for the next two days, and became more organized. I also burned as many leaves as I could.  

   And greeted Smoky Joe like the prodigal when he decided to show himself again tonight. My best friend was here, also, and she fed Smoky all he could eat. It’s wonderful to know he has realized where he lives.

   Ten thirty-nine in the evening, and all is well.

Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Post navigation

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

%d bloggers like this: