Relative Something

Today is Asher’s and my last full day managing the ranch on our own. The house has been cleaned by professionals whom Cyndie hired before she left. This girl thinks ahead and knows my ability to endure dust and dog hair is different than hers. Tomorrow, I drive to the airport to pick up the pair of travelers and all the Norwegian souvenirs they collected.

I suspect that Cyndie will be excited to see the changes that have occurred at home since she left. In case you ever wondered why we call our front field the “hay field,” this image serves as a clear example:

They started raking the grass into windrows in the early afternoon, and when I came out of the house after a late lunch, there were already four large round bales parked in the field. That round baler machine sure makes short work of the task.

Conversely, I was making long work of the job of moving loads of lime screenings up to the barn overhang. I opted to use a wheelbarrow to move 15 shovel-fulls at a time, because I was working with the horses surrounding me the whole time.

It will go much quicker when I can use the loader on the big tractor, but I need a helper to manage horses and gates, and be my eyes on the perimeter of the bucket I can’t see from behind the steering wheel.

I got most of the north side of the overhang covered yesterday.

They didn’t wait for me to finish before christening it with the first dump of manure. I’m not sure if that was a message relaying an opinion or simply a show of acceptance for the update.

I would love to get more done today, but we are about to get hit with a thunderstorm that has put any agenda I had for the day on hold. I should probably be thinking about how I’m going to keep the floors clean for a whole nother day for Cyndie. Wet weather usually translates to dirty paw prints.

Not that I tend to notice, though.

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