Blogs

I had been lazy. It had been two-and-a-half oil changes since I changed the fuel filter on my good old 2006 Dodge diesel pickup.

The barn needed to come down. It hadn’t been trusted to hold anything but memories in years, and the old sheep-hauling trucks inside went out of commission more than 20 years ago.

Last spring, I purchased 25 mixed-breed chicks from a hatchery that shipped via USPS. Feeling like I should be economical with my purchase, I bought the cheapest option. A “scratch and dent” straight-run group. I call them scratch and dent because they were the leftovers from other orders. I wanted a variety of breeds, and this got me that selection at an excellent price.

I was making my obligatory social media run-through a few days ago. As I scrolled down through the Facebook news feed, I came across a post from a friend of mine in southwestern Montana. One of her favorite old horses had moved on to the other side – not just the other side of the creek or the other side of the fence but the final “other side” of that veil that’s so thin yet so impenetrable.

January – at least the days are starting to get longer. The comings and goings of yours truly and the old yellow hay truck in January depended on the hay market. Some years, it paid to haul from southern Idaho to the Portland, Oregon, and Seattle, Washington, areas.

“But we already have a four-horse trailer.”

Even before I said those words, I knew I had lost this argument with my husband. Still, this issue deserved venting, so I piled it on: “In fact, we already have two four-horse trailers, yes? And no horses.”