Oooh is he? You've all had a dreadful time with that lunatic.
Today the Hawkesbury region had some sunshine. Winter sunshine, and good enough for four loads of washing.
I spent the afternoon pony wrangling, moving my trio to next door property, ending my long term agistment on the property where I've been staying in the granny flat (shitbox) since March floods. Sometimes a change for the sake of change gains better service and a fresh start.
Anyway, Pony1 and Pony2 as easy as ever. Pony3 is the senior: 27 years of age, wily, independent, beautiful. He was gelded (castrated) when I rescued all three, but still has all the traits of a stallion, as you would if that was your whole life. Anyway, I had a fine time with him until finally after 4 hours he was ready for a headstall, lead, grooming, worming and moving. He is so fine boned and elegant, but so strong and clever! I love him. He was prancing beside me. All the evidence is that he was once a show pony: his movements and carriage. He's had a head injury at some stage, and I definitely think he's benignly senile. Oh, and all these antics were *after* I had given him a mild oral sedative. Hahaaaaa. He is, they are, wonderful. My cobwebs are quite blown away
Tomorrow I make the three hour journey around the Blue Mountains to arrive at work for a batch of shifts over three days and hoping, like everyone else, that the bridges will reopen by Sunday for the rather more convenient 25 min drive home
And that's my story!