Hunter

The sorta new pony

 

We are no longer pony-less.

Rocky arrived last Monday.

Arrived sounds weird — like FedEx deposited him on the front porch. I retrieved him that day. And home from school, the girls bolted to the barn to see their new pony.

But his stall was empty.

In my absence, Rocky scuttled under his stall guard and ran into the front field.

The kids spent 15 minutes chasing runaway-Rocky — unsuccessfully — until I armed them with a bucket of grain.

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Ponies are inherently crafty and cunning, and Rocky will teach the girls a thing or two. But overall, he’s a good-natured soul. Oddly enough, I knew him 10 years ago. Actually, he lived at our farm for a summer.

Here’s my friend Hunter riding him, circa 2004. Rocky was 6 years old. None of our kids existed yet.

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And it’s not like I followed Rocky, or knew what happened to him through the years. But the horse world is like “6 degrees of separation.”

But more like 2 degrees of separation. Everyone knows everyone, hence the Rocky reunion.

In less than a week, he’s displayed a tolerance of sheep dog herding, skittish cows, kids on bikes and other nonsense.

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Hadley & Rocky’s maiden voyage

 

My one complaint: Rocky’s too much of a good thing.

Brynn has been incorrigible since he arrived; she just wants to ride. Her teacher reported that she was “unmanageable” on Tuesday. And Wednesday morning Brynn announced that she was sick. “My head,” she said. “It hurts. I’m sick.”

“You can stay home,” I said, then added, “but you can’t ride Rocky. If you’re sick, you can’t ride.”

She frowned. “Okay, then I’m not sick.”

It’s amazing how fast a pony can cure what ails you…

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Lazy Post: Bucket head

 

Sorry gang, the blog’s been temporarily suspended due to frigid temps.

It’s partly true; I had a few posts ready to go, but then their relevancy faded. It’s hard to extol the value of a late-night walk when currently, the evening windchill hovers around -12 degrees. No one’s voluntarily strolling around outside.

But, since’s there’s no thaw in the immediate forecast, I may run the content anyway, with a disclaimer.

In the meantime, here are a couple of silly pictures, courtesy of my friend, Hunter. (They are recent but obviously, snapped before Tuesday’s snow.)

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There’s not much to say. But who doesn’t like to see an animal with a bucket stuck on her head?

Apparently, “Vanilla” the goat was licking one of the horse’s feed tubs when she hooked a horn.

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Happy Friday everyone. Funny Farm will be back in action on Monday.

–Jo

Another moth chronicle

Remember the camo moth from the mudroom this summer? (Original blog post, here.)

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I thought that he was the coolest thing on wings — until my friend Hunter shared this pix:

 

Rosy moth

 

Actually, photo credit goes to Hunter’s husband, Chris, who spotted this in their yard. (The moth appears to be humping a less flashy mate).

The sherbet-shaded insect is a Rosy Maple. Or Dryocampa rubicunda, for you entomology geeks. Google says that this species usually flutters around northern states (like Wisconsin) and southern ones (including Florida).

This one detoured to Maryland, to get it on.