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Hardly a glimpse

I catch hardly a glimpse of FarmWife these days, as April is notorious as her busiest time of year. She'll go to a conference at the end of the month, and after that we'll pass our days in merry repose beneath the dappling shade of yonder trees. We'll probably have fruit platters and things. It will be lovely.

I DID talk FarmWife into having a spa day this weekend: since Human Auntie Hannah had done up the children's hair and nails, it seemed only fair that I get a currying and a mane trim. Little Dylann looked after my ears, mane, and tail, Little Robin looked after my shoulders, barrel, and hips, and FarmWife curried my topline and picked my hooves. I was beautiful for our Skype call to the Grandparents, which took place outdoors so that I could show them my puffy hock. They offered their condolences and best wishes for a speedy recovery, which were terribly kind things to offer. We talked about France, then, and about baseball and the weather.

Ears,
Fen



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