Mud is Good

I know Tango and I look like tiny specs in the composition of this picture but the greenness of the pastures for this time of year is totally amazing. It's been interesting for me. Tango's been off. He's had x-rays and injections and the whole nine-yards. Basically, he's going to be okay but I've not been able to do my usual work with him. In fact, I've only been allowed to ride easily. I should be upset by the interruption in our routine, but I'm not. I had forgotten how calming and joyful it is to ride just for the sake of riding. Sometimes the small things in life are what matter the most. Not the competitions or the deadlines of work that needs to be done to meet a specific goal. Life should always be so easy. Remind me of that when Tango is all well again and I'm stressed out about getting him all clean for a show. Mud is good.

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Spun Tale...Tail!

Sammy's about had it with spring and summer. He's tired of the heat. He's tired of the grass and...he's tired of itching!

The poor little guy doesn't mean to leave hair all over the house but even after I brush out bushels of white and brown fluffy fur he scratches out bushels more. I'm thinking of turning my house into a spinning factory. Why I think we could make the most beautiful sweaters and afghans you've ever seen. The colors would be so neutral they would go with anything.

I could give Christmas presents that would leave people in awe. "Where'd you ever find this cashmere coat?" they would ask. "And who's the designer?" I'd smile and reply, "The designer is Sir Samson of Center Woods."

I could even donate things to my sister-in-law Sandy http://homelessbridge.blogspot.com/ who has a group that knits and crochets for the homeless. "Sandy," I would say, "I've had Sam's fur cleaned and sterilized at least fifty times. My spinner can offer you more scans of yarn than the store in your basement can hold."

Sandy would be happy. I'm not sure what she'd say but I would be willing to bet she'll leave a comment and let us know. And as for my husband Chuck...well, when I give him his pair of Samson-fur-socks he's going to be overwhelmed with joy. "I'll never have to worry about fur on my socks again," he will say. "I've got FUR FOR MY SOCKS! Jan, you are more talented and gifted than I ever knew," he will say to me.

I'll feel a little smug. "Just think," I'll whisper to

Chuck. "All the money I earn from my Samson- designed products will pay for all the steroids and antibiotics that Sam is going to take until well after the first frost. Chuck will be happy. I know he will.

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