Friday I had 2 tons of hay delivered. It was so beautiful that I ordered another 2 tons, and today they delivered those extra 2 tons. But first, I had to clean out the barn to make room for the extra hay. I nearly killed myself doing it. The picture above shows a small portion of the 4 tons.I'm not a packrat, but I had accumulated far too much "stuff" in my barn. Some of it I'm hauling to the dump. Some of it I'm burning. Some of it I'm giving away (my 2-wheeled horse cart and harness--sob!). It's liberating to get rid of junk, but it's depressing when your body just doesn't act like it's 27-years-old anymore. My feet hurt. My back hurts. My knees hurt. Getting old is not for the faint-of-heart.
To end on an upbeat note, here is a picture of Lord Byron, my cat. He is Official Hay Inspector. He likes to climb all over the bales, poking around and, I suspect, looking for mice. He sits on the bales and talks to me as I work. He's great company!
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