Skip to main content
www.realscience.org.uk
I was touched, and a little sorry, when I saw FarmWife approaching me in the dark last Saturday night. It was after midnight, it was beginning to rain, and she was arriving home from work just as a brisk and unpredictable wind whipped up in the pasture. It had been a pleasant day, and she'd done me the courtesy of leaving me unblanketed. I do love a good roll and a bit of fresh air!

I was sorry because you humans can be so awkward after dark. Like little children, groping along on wobbling legs. Feeling before her, stepping in every muddy rut, and taking tiny, hesitant steps, FarmWife waded into the darkness like it was a thick miasma—a physical barrier dividing Here from There. I saw her coming, clear as day. I saw her fumbling, stumbling, creeping, and tottering through the paddock with the appearance of someone who could not five inches in front of her nose. From across the field, I saw her and became convinced that she could not see a thing.

I helped her out, cantering to her with grace and ease. She was thrilled to catch the flash of my eye before her, and to feel my hot breath on her outstretched hand. She blanketed me quickly, and by feel. She talked to me in the dark, perhaps thinking that I needed to hear her in order to know she was there. I didn't—I already knew.

It was nice of FarmWife to wade into the darkness to dress me. What you humans have lost in terms of harmony with nature—its cycles of warm and cold, light and dark—you make up for in terms of harmony with equines. We still love you, blind and fumbling though you may sometimes be.

FB

Comments

  1. Hay Fenway - I have seen my mom do the same thing - trying to get into my paddock without falling - I have seen her fall a time or two in the dark. Putting on my blankie because she thinks its too cold for me to go without. I do appreciate her thoughtfulness and love to put herself in danger to keep me warm.

    Your fren,

    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

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 ...

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...

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...