Skip to main content

Boyfriend in His Infinite Wisdom

Today I thought I'd share some of dear Boyfriend's words. He, in all his infinite wisdom, rotundity, and belovedness, is sort of my Horse counterpart. If you haven't met him yet, you must go visit him at www.iamboyfriend.com.  Here's an excerpt from a recent blog post, found in its entirety at this link. You must click the button to see Boyfriend's animation of his dream, and do remember that you're to imagine a robust dappled gray on the phone with Aunt Nancy!

" Mother used to laugh at me because I was very nervous of the weight tape. Saddle? No problem. Weight tape? CREEPY! Mother said I looked like Bugs Bunny figuring out he was getting measured for the stock pot.

That's not a very nice thing to say. That sort of thing can happen. I don't want it to happen to me!

I had the strangest dream the other night... Is it because Mother has been neglecting me? Anyway, I found a way to re-enact for my readers. Click this button, but I recommend you just listen and not watch, because the video isn't really me. Oh, for backgound information, Mr. Smothers is Mother's cat. He and Aunt Nancy discussed some of the dangers of the world outside the house... "snake bite, dog attack, or vehicular felinicide".

And one last qualifier. I am a good horse. But Aunt Nancy oh-so-very-occasionally uses bad language. This re-enactment is exactly how the dream happened, so it is verbatim. My apologies to any young impression-ables."

Comments

  1. BifSeptember 30, 2010 at 6:31 PM

    Thanks for the bump, Fenway. Mother feels bad that my wifi has been so sporadic of late. She did come see me tonight, and says tomorrow is the day... the takeover is complete! So hopefully, she'll come to the barn like she is supposed to, and these odd dreams will stop.

    And I'll get my cookies...

    ReplyDelete
  2. Marnie JacksonOctober 2, 2010 at 11:05 AM

    Bif, you need to encourage her to buy some sort of high-maintenance animal in addition to your noble self. The illness of my goat, though tragic, has certainly had me seeing more of FarmWife! She's in the shed more often then not, day and night, and we're all enjoying her company.

    Fenway

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Thanks in Advance for Your Mulish Opinion!

Popular Posts

Here are the Cloud Dog's X-Rays

Here, for your edification, are the X-rays of dear Paisley's leg. There is, apparently, no new break (since his Monday siezure) but there is, of course, a great deal of abnormality caused by years of living with a shortened ulna. His pronounced lameness, the vet says, may temporarily improve. Unlike me, Fenway Bartholomule, poor cloud dog can't expect much in the way of a full recovery.   Not having the $$$$ for surgery to fuse the joint, we are working on making some sort of rigid splint to support the limb and prevent further degeneration. That is, the humans (with their space-age material inventions and their opposable thumbs) are working on making a splint; I am working on giving cloud dog brayful looks of support and encouragement every time he totters into the yard to relieve himself. As always, he fears me (me?!) and keeps his distance.  Ears to you,  Fenway
2 comments
Continued . . .

Vegan Spring Rolls

I, Fenway Bartholomule, am a vegan: of course I only eat plants, not people! My human is too, so I'm sharing my blog with her today so that she can participate in the 2014 Virtual Vegan Potluck ! When you're done perusing the recipe for these delicious spring rolls, click "back" or "forward" for the entire potluck experience! Virtual Vegan Potluck: Spring Roll Appetizers Beautiful? Check. Healthy? Check. Delicious? Check. Easy? Check. Fancy? Check. Quick to clean up after? Check. Vegan? OF COURSE! If you're looking for something portable, colorful, and crowd-pleasing for your next potluck, look no further than these simple vegan spring rolls! The best part? You can substitute ANYTHING. I never make these the same way twice, so play around with cilantro, kale, cabbage, scallions, or whatever you think sounds good! Ingredients Veggie mix: 2 carrots (grated) 4 oz mung bean sprouts 1/3 cup chopped peanuts (raw, or roasted and salted) or ...
11 comments
Continued . . .

2025 State of the Farmlet Address

A red stag photographed by Farmwife in Scotland, from whence the family descends and to where they voyaged in September 2024.  Dear Mules and Countrywomen,  It is my pleasure to report to you today, from my forested vantage point, that the Farmlet is well.  It has been eight years since my family had a Farmlet to report upon, and this one is among the best. It is 25 minutes south of Casa de Bartholomule-Teaspoon, where you may remember the family lived for a time, and situated on the same verdant island. It is 120 minutes south of Bent Barrow Farm, where the ancient rhododendron still blooms and where FenBar's old barn of many colors still stands and shelters farm machinery. This place has rhododendrons, too, encircling a lawn which slopes down to my barn and paddock. We call the barn Hoofhouse, and it is going to be painted black in the spring to match the house and my companion, Puck.  My paddock, by design, does not overlap the lawn but instead winds through a mix...
Post a Comment
Continued . . .

Catastrophy

This is the emergency broadcast system. This is not a test. I was going to entertain you with more haiku today, but something terrible has happened. I need your support. Today was supposed to be a regular spa day—a nice little hoofie trim, a fresh mane roach, an ear massage, and a handful of sunflower seeds (for shine). Instead of merely taking care of my beauty routine, however, FarmWife spent a full hour in contemplation of and attention to my overall physique. The upshot? A revision of my condition from Plump to Obese. (Her actual words, upon removing my blanket for the first time in a few days, were "Oh my God! You've ballooned!") She has decided that my fatness has become a health risk, and has resolved to exercise me as often as possible. It gets dark at 4:30. Her husband gets home at 5:30. She has small children and no sitter. This, my friends, means that I will end up being longed. Longed at the end of a stupid, smelly old rope. Forced to walk and trot...
14 comments
Continued . . .