Squeaker and Brood |
On Sunday, the day started with this. About eleven of the setting duck's nineteen eggs hatched. Mama and babies are doing well. We're keeping them in stall #3 for the time being -- the last brood of babies were taken, one and all, by hawks within the first two days that they went down to the pond. We admit that we have too many ducks, but will not feed them to hawks without a fight. There is little cuter than a baby duck (Lord help us).
Marigolds and Phlox |
Then I got Corny out of the pasture, tacked him up and rode. No pictures of this -- and I'm sorry about that, because he looked quite dapper in his new autumn-orange saddle pad. Next time. When I was a kid, riding simply involved jumping up onto a horse and taking off. Now, I have to remember all sorts of stuff and getting the two of us ready for a 40 minute ride takes about 40 minutes in itself. For Corny: grooming, hooves cleaned, saddle pads, saddle, bridle and leg wraps. For me: tight breeches, tight socks, tight boots, tight helmet and tight gloves. Do you see a pattern here? Even my spurs are tight-fitting and must be wedged on. By the time I'm ready to climb aboard, Corny looks pretty comfortable, but I feel (and, no doubt, look) a bit like a sausage.
Anyway, we had an invigorating walk-trot ride in the arena. Tell you what, though: I was definitely feeling saddle sore today as I hobbled around school. This is what comes when you only ride once every six months.
Corny still seems to be getting along all right as an only horse. Yesterday I came out and discovered horse, ducks and dog just sort of hanging out and relaxing together in the afternoon sunshine. That brought a smile.
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