Happiness is . . .

Tis the season where we make our bank account cry while we smile. When you are a farm owner happiness is siting a gravel truck turning into your driveway. Every year in the fall we get about 15 loads of gravel delivered. A few of those go on our mile long driveway each fall. As everyone knows, Jason is quite fastidious when it comes to driveway maintenance. Nothing wounds his pride more than when I point out the beginnings of a pothole in the driveway. The box blade comes out immediately and Jason gets to work.

We also replace gravel in our pastures around the gates and traffic areas. We rotate through the pastures and usually replace gravel in those areas every 2 to 3 years. A couple of pastures need the gravel refreshed more frequently since the traffic areas are in low spots.

When Jason wasn’t busy spreading gravel he built five new hay feeders today. Since horses can destroy absolutely anything the hay feeders also have to get replaced periodically. We have a welder who comes and does maintenance work on them for us each spring, but even with that they still need replacement. I’d say the average lifespan of a hay feeder on our farm is five to six years.

In other news our dented truck is back from being repaired and looking good as new. Ewen the dog has spent the last four days at the vet clinic on IV fluids and about 19 different medications as he has fought off an unknown infection. His prognosis was poor at one point but now we are thinking he will get to come home tomorrow, of course still loaded up on medication. I haven’t even asked for a guesstimate on his bill, I don’t really want to know.

Between un-denting the truck, the gravel, the hay feeders, Ewen’s vet bill and a few other things I’m forgetting, our checking account is probably feeling like it has a tentative hold on life. At least we had planned for the gravel and the hay feeders. The truck repair and Ewen’s vet bill are to make sure we’re aware that we are hemorrhaging money this month. As if we needed a reminder.

I have a love/hate relationship with this site. I love the gravel but I hate the bill

Jason spreading gravel

new hay feeders put together and ready for use

I’ve happily had the opportunity to ride again lately, and this is my typical audience – horses with expressions ranging between shock and horror. The conversation goes something like this: “That horse is being ridden. Guys, isn’t this a retirement farm? I thought it was in the board contract that we could not be ridden? Has our contract been renegotiated without our consent? Could we find ourselves being ridden? L-R Digby, Happy, Paramount, Johnny and Mick