Summertime Hay

Once again my wife's on the road and guess who gets to feed horses?

Yep, me.

It's easier, though, in the summertime. We rotate horses among pastures, and there's a decent amount of grass. I don't have to rush out before I've had some coffee, listening to whinny's and calls wondering where I am. I don't have to fight through a herd of horses trying to eat out of the wheelbarrow as I'm moving hay around. And I don't have to bundle up against the cold. Today I even took a conference call as I was walking around dropping hay.

On the flip side, I still need to change clothes. Jeans, boots, and I should have taken out gloves. That hay rubbing on bare skin, at least my bare skin, itches and irritates me. Pollen in the air, and hay dust, has me sneezing.

I guess it's never easy with the horses, and it's a chore if you don't enjoy them. But I love my wife, so I go out there and deal with it.