Icy Sunday

First, let me say that the appearance of that odious rap song at the top of my blog was done without consulting me. The male human still insists on calling me "Twenny Cent" at all opportunities in the mistaken belief that it has some comic value. Harumph.

Yes, as the title says, some form of solid water fell on my person around one o'clock. I was slowly making my way to the front of the paddock when a huge black cloud targeted me, expelling beads of a white icy substance in my general direction. I reversed course, but by the time I reached the run-in, the sun had reappeared. Typical.

More incomprehensible behaviour from the woman. She puts all sorts of stuff (she calls it recycling) into the wheelbarrow, to be put out with our, ahem, soiled bedding. She was busy scrubbing our buckets outside, so I examined the things in the wheelbarrow and found several of them quite delicious. I ate a piece of Potato Rosemary bread and a tea bag (orange pekoe) before she returned and began the usual carrying on. I find all her claims about recycling dubious - she's just selfish and doesn't want to share the finer things with the equines. I plan to continue my own recycling program out of her view.