Mustang Saga

It's COLD. I went out to feed and it didn't take long to realize I was under-dressed, even with my coveralls and big huge coat. I needed a gaiter for my face and a scarf and a sweat shirt and, most of all, gloves that weren't wet from a day of horseplay and hoof trimming. They were soon frozen, as were my nose hairs and lungs. It's 4 degrees, which I realize could be worse, but for some reason I was expecting teens and dressed for that.

John had to work late tonight because one of his employees was "sick." He's making his way slowly home on very icy roads. I tried to talk him into getting a hotel room for the night but he "didn't want to deal with that." I'd rather he dealt with that than wreck our truck or worse. But he knows what the roads are like and I don't, and he'll be careful. I have a feeling it's going to be a long wait though. Which is why I'm here babbling at you.

Tomorrow India goes in to the vet to get a tiny suture taken out of her eyelid. And then I hope not to talk to them again for a LONG time.

I can't think of anything else to bore you with. Ooh, now it's 3 degrees. I think I'll go climb into my warm bed.