Well, I don’t know where I was when the weathermen were calling for rain… Ummm, that’s not really true. I did know it was going to rain, but I didn’t know it would rain LIKE THIS!! The last few days were epic. And, after epic days, I seem to always get a little note from dear Mother Nature. She leaves her calling cards all around my place – especially after the first storm of the season. Does she do this with you?
FIRST SIGN: OOPS, I FORGOT TO CLEAN OUT THE GUTTERS.
Yup. I forgot to clean out the gutters. Actually, I didn’t forget, I just hadn’t gotten around to calling the guy who does that. I guess I could do it but I have a huge fear of ladders and high places. I also have a fear of other people falling off my roof when I’ve hired them to do this. I guess I need to get over these fears because Mother Nature doesn’t care.
She happily chastises me for being a smotherguttered homeowner by having all the edges of my roof bypass the downspouts. So, my entire house is crying from the roof down. It is as if someone came by and drew a seam around the house via pooled drops falling at velocity. Oh, we cannot forget about the crater pit areas. Those are my favorite. Yup, the water carves out a huge hole like a crater just fell to earth, missed my house and rammed into the poor dirt – which you see here pictured. What is up with that? Please note, the downspout is just inches away. Nice.
I love walking into the barn and sloshing… not. I absolutely hate having my nice barn floor full of rain water which lifts the errant hay and whatever off of the ground like dust bunnies in a swimming pool. Ugh. And, the flooded water won’t leave! It totally overstays its welcome. It waits for the sun to bake it away. So, if we have a long storm, it just keep getting worse unless I can convince Hubby to help me dig the trench. Well, not really dig it, the trench is dug — but all kinds of stuff has fallen into it since the last time I forgot to dig out the trench…
The best way to get Hubby to help me with the digging is to go out there and dig it myself. There I am, my pitiful self, drenched, wearing his raincoat, bending over and shoveling trench debris between my knees like I’m birthing it. Hair is falling into my eyes, I have water running down my face and back… but I keep digging. After all, it isn’t hard work, just messy. Then comes Hubby feeling very badly that I’m doing this. He grabs the shovel and says, “I don’t want you to get a hernia!” and proceeds to clear out the trench in about 3 minutes. Lickety split! He even added a new causeway and peninsula. It’s nice!
OLDER MARE IN THE BARN DURING THE RAIN — SO SOON?!
Oy. Here is what my mare does when I put her in the barn during an early season rain storm… She eats the hay at her nose level. Can you see the string hanging where she has been eating like a locust? She eats into whatever bale is at mouth level and any morsel within reach. Generally, all the hay is out of “teeth range” before she is let in. Sigh.
UH OH, DID I CLOSE THE TRAILER WINDOWS??!
NO. I never remember that. In fact, during this storm, that exact thought woke me up at 2:13 am. I know because I looked at the clock as I stumbled out of bed, put on the cat and dishpans and flailed outside to shut the windows. I slammed closed the horsetrailer windows (not even waking my snoozing family), but I totally missed closing the interior tack room windows successfully.
But honestly, when it is pitch dark, you’re wearing something that is not really working well and then you have to step up on that stupid little metal prong, pull yourself up onto the steel wedge and then close the stuck and bloated window which has pine needles and twigs in the runners… you know the drill. OK, so I didn’t quite close them totally… and my tack will suffer for it. But, I practically impaled myself getting down from the silver wedge area as the nasty metal prong skinned the back of my leg while I was fishing for it with my toes.
Anyway, this photo is of the condensation INSIDE the trailer. The carpet and saddlepads under that window are soaked. Not the first time…
FLY MASKS ON FENCES, OH MY!
Of course, we cannot forget about the waterlogged fly masks that are strewn about the place. You see, I leave them on the fences because the flies are still very heavy around here. I take them off the horses at night and put them on the fence posts so they are there when I feed in the morning. So, how…? How? How could this kind of a storm pass through when we still have fly masks on fences and flip flops by the door?
Anyway, as I bring in my poor waterlogged flymask friends, I realize that several have flown the coop. Yup, isn’t it great when the wind carries the flymask into the horse paddocks thereby creating a free-for-all with the horses. Those horses delight in smashing the invaders into the ground, never to be cleaned again. I swear, I will find fly masks months or years later as the Pleistocene winter layer sloughs away and Voila! A petrified flymask emerges! A perfectly mud preserved fly mask, caked in a year’s worth of Mother Nature.
OY. I FORGOT TO DO THAT…
As I run around picking up fly masks, I see that I didn’t clean out the vinyl feeders from the trailer that I had put outside precisely for that reason. There they sit, all mashed up and strewn with leaves and water/hay mush. Lovely. What a mess. I walked around the trailer and found the other one. Oh joy. Both of them are nasty. I just shoulda done it when I was doing it. I hate when I procrastinate and leave my cake out in the rain.
Also, I had the trailer parked in not my normal spot. I should have moved it so the rain wouldn’t have showered directly onto the wheels and brakes. Because the trailer was parked front and center of the eye of the storm, it was drenched and the brakes got a bit rusty – or something. As you can see by my brake marks as I jerked my way around the turn around to park the trailer where it should be parked. Hubby is gonna love that… I ran around after myself and kicked all the gravel back in. Today has been fun!
LAST BUT NOT LEAST
We cannot forget all the sloshy barrels in the arena. This is kinda fun. I love bringing in a few horses and then sloshing the barrels! It is even better when the barrels act like weeble wobbles. The horses just freak out! “Barrels don’t do that!” Yup, they do!
Oh, and of course I cannot leave out the crate that was on its way to the garage but didn’t quite make it. Note the water on top.
Ahhh. Mother Nature is just like a real Mom… She won’t let you get away with anything!
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The October Bucket Fund will benefit Honey Bandit, the most neglected BLM mustang baby who is struggling to survive. To learn all about the Bucket Fund and to donate to this incredible foal, please click on the photo (photo credit, Trish Lowe)