A Note About This Blog

I used to be a writer. Unpublished, but a writer just the same. I have several 100,000 word novels sitting on my hard drive. Then I fell off a horse and got a concussion that scrambled my brains really good (yes, I was wearing a helmet.) After that forming a written sentence was very difficult for quite some time. It's still difficult, but at least now generally the sentence structure isn't egregiously flawed. Verbally and written wrong words pop in, I switch words around, and sometimes I make no sense at all. It isn't because I don't have knowledge of grammar and punctuation, but my brain simply can't do it sometimes. Reading this blog you're accepting that there's going to be things that look like typos or make no sense. It's not because I don't proofread, it's because my damaged brain doesn't see what's wrong. I try my best, but things will slip through. I don't need them pointed out, I know they're there, but if I continued to worry about them I wouldn't write at all. I didn't for quite some time. It's painful as a past master of words to use them so badly, but fortunately the words don't seem to mind.

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Old Men

When I put Fudge down I swore, "No more old horses." I'm such a liar. I am absolutely loving the old man horses that are summering here. They're so low stress. Sure, they trip over everything and Sonny leaves quids of hay all over the place, but there's something restful about horses that just don't get bothered by things because they've seen so much. And, because they aren't mine I'm not fretting about their health, I just have to keep them safe. The latter being harder to do than I thought, as my fence has fallen into disrepair since the old girl left us and it's requiring more work to fix than anticipated. I installed 200 T-post covers this weekend and I'm not quite halfway around the perimeter fence yet.

Anyway, I just love the two of them. They've been mowing my fenced backyard as they get acclimated to grass. Sonny doesn't like carrots or apples, which is just wrong. I know lots of horses that don't like apples, but carrots? This is a first. I'm having a hard time finding something to entice him to do his carrot stretches. Condi, on the other hand, is overbearing when he thinks I have something tasty.

So, good times here at Pam's Pensioner Pony Place.
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