Tuesday, July 03, 2007

Berry Season continues...

I'd love to post something wildly interesting and fascinating, that would have my few readers rolling on the floor, tears flowing from their eyes.

Unfortunately, all the humor has been washed out of me by fruit. There is fruit everywhere. The stench of fruit has taken over my nostrils and I feel like I will never smell anything ever again. Not the sweet smell of a baby's head after it's had a nice bath, not the smell of my horse once I've ridden him into a sweat.

Speaking of my horse, he threw a shoe the other day. I'm not entirely clear on the specifics, but I believe he lost it at pasture. I've no idea how a horse loses his shoe. I've lost shoes on many occasions: Mostly when I've come home intoxicated and taken one off in one room, and the other off in an entirely different room. How a horse loses a steel shoe that is literally nailed right into his hoof is beyond me. But, Zydo has lost a shoe, and I'm sad for him. My dad has called a farrier to see him, but to know that he has to walk unevenly until the farrier gets there tears at my heart strings.

I was home for my best friend's stag the other day, and I wandered out into the pasture to visit my trusty steed. I called out to him, and he glanced at me from under his fly bonnet with disinterest. I made my way towards him, and my father's mare came up to me to see what I wanted.She was pissed that I didn't want her all to myself. She likes her people, apparently. Zydo sniffed at me breifly, wondering if I had brought him treats, and when he found that I did not, in fact, bring him treats, he ambled away from me. I just drove a bazillion miles to pet the bastard, and he couldn't even muster the energy to rub his nose on my shoulder and let me give him a good rubbing on his neck. It seems that men who are completely disinterested in me are an ongoing theme in my life; however, and I took his rejection quite well.

I simply blame the fact that the grass back home at The Ranch is just THAT GOOD that he can't tear himself away, even for a second.

I fired two boys today, a task I hate completing, but after two weeks of trying with these kids I really felt I had no other choice. They are both nice, interesting boys, and one of them even plays the guitar! But as pickers go, they aren't so grand, and I had to tell them it was time for them to move on. I always feel bad about firing pickers, no matter how awful their work is.

And now I console myself with cold beer, knowing that tomorrow is another fruit filled and sun-burn causing day. One that I look forward to with glee. A song in my soul and a spring in my step.

All hail the mighty fruit.

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