The townhouse Jay and I have been staying in the last few weeks backs up against horse pasture. Some evenings, just as we are sitting down for dinner, the horses are released from their stalls to graze. We love watching them search for sweet clover.
We often wish there was clover against the fence nearest our back patio so the horses would draw near enough for us to pet. Sometimes we try to convince them that the feeding opportunities near our house are tremendous. I may stand on the fence and wave a giant carrot in the air, or I may do my best horse call — which is, incidentally, a Mariachi shout — but despite my best efforts, the horses stay put. Until two mornings ago, when I pulled open the shades and saw one of the horses eating brekkie, right next to the fence nearest us.
Excited at the prospect of hand feeding the horse (I have named her Stella), I ran outside and over to the fence where I was able to pet her. A few moments into petting Stella, I realized that, in my excitement, I had forgotten to put pants on. This is not the first time I have forgotten to put pants on before leaving the house; and I am beginning to wonder what old age will be like for me — and, more importantly, for the people who have to look at me, if this pant trend continues. (Have mercy!).
So I ran back inside to put pants on and grab some carrots for Stella. She was ready and waiting when I returned, as were a number of hungry horses.
This here horse is Jay's twin, with its tan hide and blond hair:
I have named him Barney. Jay is not sure if he is a Barney. (And neither of is sure if he is a "he.")
Do you see the resemblance?!
Once the horses learned we were the sole neighborhood carrot distributors that morning, they were eager for more.
So we kept more carrots comin'.
I hope you are all having a lovely Thursday!
© by scj