Monday, November 30, 2009

Tis The Season

I hope everyone had a nice Thanksgiving, and for you non-United States visitors, I hope you had an exceptionally happy Thursday.

It was opening weekend here and I've been a little bit busy. My younger brother came to visit for the holiday, and I'm forever in his debt for finally coercing my
wireless printer to print wirelessly. I don't know if he used threats, black magic or his excellent Ninja skills, but whatever he did to it, I can now print very important things like e mail, jokes, and rambling, subversive manifestos from the comfort of my couch. I used to be required to slap the battery into my laptop, walk into to my office (a distance of about 30 feet) and plug it in to print stuff. No longer am I tethered to a USB cable.

(Long Sigh) Ahhh, I can almost hear my muscles atrophying now.

Friday night I drove Liberty. She is our only mare, and she tends to be a bit tweeky. Also, being a mare, she pees differently than the geldings do. This means when she has to go, she goes backwards as opposed to downwards. So, when she urinates her stream ends up filling the poop bag. As the poop bag fills up with both #1 and #2, this makes a creation we call a "Shit Slurpee." Then, the combination of tweeky, jiggy mare and shit slurpee bloom into a sloppy mess on the front of my white carriage that can best be compared to a two color (green on a white background) Jackson Pollock-ish work of avant garde delight.

The wreath that adorns the front of my carriage will never be the same again.

I would have taken a picture of it but it was late and I was tired. Plus I forgot. And since then I've hosed down the front of my carriage so it's lost to the world now. But don’t fret; it's early in the season and I'm sure another chance will come around.

Saturday I drove Cletus, one of my favorite co-workers. We were a little slower on Saturday than we were on Friday. After we returned to the barn and were gathered in the office waiting for the rest of the employees to return, Coco, who had forgotten to bring his drivers sheet out, showed us all how he kept track of both his rides and his credit card sale reference number.

Yes, it's a bit provincial, but it works. And at least he used a marker, as opposed to, say, a razor blade.

Belle's Personal Assistant and her spouse, better known as Carriage Clause, both former employees of our company, stopped by to visit and join us for breakfast. BPA returned to the barn with the drivers, pushing my friend ~A~ into the passenger compartment of her carriage and driving Liberty from South Gate back to the barn. Bart, Belle's brother/former team mate, And BPA's most favored draft horse (after Belle, of course) wasn't available for her to drive but when he got into the barn she gave him big hugs. Like
Stacey with Wesson, BPA wants Bart to come live with her when it's his turn to retire.

Sunday night I worked with Jerry.

I haven't driven Jerry for a while and man oh man has he put on weight! I almost couldn’t get him between the carriage shafts. Talk about a
w i d e
l o a d.

It was painfully slow Sunday, but it typically is the first Sunday of the season. And at least the weather held— no rain or snow all weekend.

On one of my trips around Temple Square a man parking his SUV next to a "No Parking" sign asked, "Is it alright if I park here?" I said, "Sure, that "No Parking" sign is purely for esthetics."

Wease is coming down from Northern Utah to stay with me and drive for a few days. She's going to be doing this every week until New Years so it should be fun. She brings with her three dogs, making a total of five at our house while she's here. Plus she, along with all of her dogs, is female, which totally tips the estrogen factor in our house into the black. Mr. Slave Driver and Border Collie extraordinaire, Cowboy, might opt for a hotel room. Or at least move out into the travel trailer for the duration. It should make for an interesting time.


Texanne said...

Okay, I totally get it about the Estrogen--sigh of nostalgic proportions--Mr. Texanne was thrilled to his Weejuns when DD brought home a boy puppy. Of course, he was fixed. Puppy, not Mr. Texanne.

I love this tradition of branding our husbands as Mr. + our handles. Serves 'em right.

Happy Dollar Days!

Anonymous said...

About the poop soup problem--put some kitty litter into the poop bag to absorb the urine. Not a great solution, but it might help. Or, you could punch small holes in the bag to let the liquid fall through to the street, for gender equality.

Lisa Deon said...

I had shavings in the bag, and if I'd thought about it in advance... I would have traded bags- mine is brand spankin' new and there is no way I'd punch a hole in it. However, we do have some with rips and tears- we refer to them as "Poop Strainers" but I don't drive Libby very often and spaced it.

Texanne said...


Anonymous said...

Pee string. If you have a grommet at the center top, or somewhere to tie a piece of leather lace, IE the clips, pull it back when she squats down.

No more shit soup.