She has finally seen the light. I stayed in all day, with access to everywhere but the tack room (pity, it's the most interesting room). It was wonderful. I rolled in the shavings in both Doc's and Molly's stalls and used TJ's stall as a bathroom. HehHeh. It is still ungodly cold outside and the others come in with frost on their coats and eyelashes. With her huge blonde coat and massively hairy legs, Molly looks like one of the Valkyries in a Wagner opera. Stick horns on her head and she could clomp on stage at a moment's notice.
The woman replenished our feed supply today and at this time of year, it's quite a production getting it from the truck to the barn. The driveway from the house to the barn is unplowed, so she wrestles the bags onto a toboggan and drags it through the snow. We know very well what she's transporting and offer to help her as soon as she gets to the gate. She always says the same thing "Back off you bunch of hypocrites." Most ungracious.
Today, she was halfway from the gate to the barn when she suddenly began blowing and snorting like an old plow horse, bent so far over she was nearly parallel to the ground. When she paused and turned around, she discovered Molly had one hoof firmly planted on the back of the toboggan and had ripped open the corner of a bag. Such language! I added a few new words to my vocabulary. She continued, the bag leaking a trail of horse feed and all of us frantically cleaning it up. We're very environmentally aware and dislike any kind of littering.
This morning she brought a mug of tea out to the barn. Given that she knew I was inside, I thought it very rude that I didn't get my own mug. She had to go back to the house and hid the mug around a corner so I couldn't see it. Silly woman. I could see the steam rising into the air. I had been sampling some powder she puts on the stall floors to cut ammonia odour and thought I would see how it tasted with tea. The answer is: delicious. I drank the tea very carefully, alternating with mouthfuls of powder. It formed a sort of paste and I was just mouthing the last of it when she returned. "Oooooonoooo!" she said "Sheaffer, that's going to turn to cement in your stomach!" Gave me a bit of a turn, but she was wrong; I feel just fine, with only a slight heaviness in the mid-section. Next time maybe she'll be more thoughtful and I'll get my own mug of tea.