The Bold and the Brayful: A family affair

Reprinted with permission from the Brayer

The Bold and the Brayful: A family affair
A column by Fenway Bartholomule

I am a family mule. This means I do moderate labor (carrying FarmWife, a gangly woman),
light labor (carrying the children, ages four, six, and eleven) and occasional hard labor
(carrying FarmHusband, who is an athletic but muscular man).

FarmWife would have five mules if she could—three for the children, one for herself, and
another for herself because we're like potato chips (you can't have just one) and because
FarmHusband would probably rather have an ox. Instead of five mules and an ox she has me,
though, and I am wonderful! I am five times as wonderful as your average mule, and so she
has just me and I am enough. We live on one acre, which just manages to hold me and the
goats and the chickens and gardens. I cannot share this paddock more ways.

When FarmWife was small she lived in a 14-foot travel trailer because horses were the
priority in her family. She lived in a travel trailer but she had a five stall barn, and she had her
retired gelding and her new gelding and her homebred colt, an up-and-coming sport horse.
All this for a girl who had only so many hours in each day and on a budget that was none
too large, and all this in addition to the other horses which belonged to her mother. She's not
complaining—it was a wonderful childhood!—but, as the mother of three animal lovers, she
can't offer the same abundance of mounts. Where her own mom managed to provide three
mounts per daughter, FarmWife tries to keep the peace with three daughters per mount. They
take turns. We have a house, which I'm not allowed into but which is an improvement over
FarmWife's childhood. We don't have a barn, but my shed has three sides and a waterproof
roof.

On an average summer day, I carry the biggest girl for 30 or 40 minutes. We mostly walk, and
so I am still fresh for child number two. She gets on and rides for 15 or 20 minutes, and then
her first-grader attention span is used up. Her littlest sister mounts, then, and is led about by
FarmWife for five minutes or until she grows bored. By then, an hour or more has passed and
we're usually all ready to get out of the sun. I'm fat, if I hadn't mentioned it, and so FarmWife
actually looks forward to the day when all the kids want to ride me for forty minutes and do
some trotting and cantering. FarmWife thinks it will make me slender, and she waits with
eager anticipation for this future boost in my daily exercise. We shall see.

FarmWife sometimes wishes she had more mules than one, but then she thanks her lucky
stars that her one mule is so good—that he manages to be both a bold, intrepid trail mount for
her and a gentle friend for her children.

As for me, I don't mind the attention. I have four women and they all adore me. How lucky is
that?

Ears to you,
Fenway Bartholomule
www.braysofourlives.com

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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

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 ...

Continued . . .

The Scoop on Bird

Human here, to give you the scoop on Songbird. He is shiny, sweet, and wonderful . . . and a little bit broken hearted. (Fenway was once, too.) As I've gotten to know him more over the last month, I've come to understand that he associates humans with unpleasantness, at least, and suffering, at worst. He has some gnarly scars. He flinches away from touch, though he warms up quickly when treats are involved. He's quite a foodie. He's easily startled. He's alert, and vigilant. He doesn't always feel safe. He also really likes it at my mom's house, which has a slower pace than the wonderful boarding and lesson barn where he lived in June. He appreciates the predictable routine, the long quiet afternoons, and the retired horses who give him company. He has flattened the grass under the big cedar out back and created nests to rest in. The soft footing at my mom's is better for his newly bare feet. He is starting to believe he'll be ok. I have ridden him...

Continued . . .

That Which Was Foretold Has Come To Pass

After some negotiation and exchange of words like "motheaten" and "raggedy", Farmwife talked me into enduring the roaching of my mane, which I had rubbed on the fence while reaching for delectable edibles at my previous home. We both agreed on four things: 1) it was essential to retain my forelock, which is a thing of splendor that adds greatly to my dashing good looks. I'll get a picture for you tomorrow. 2) once the cut has grown out a bit, she will give me those fancy castle turrets that she used to style for Fenway. 3) we owe our dear readers a better photo, when I have not just rolled in the mud. 4) there is no hairstyle capable of making me look anything but marvelous.

Continued . . .

BRAYS OF OUR LIVES

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