Texas is drunk AF, y’all. A month ago it was like 95 degrees. Now it’s 28 degrees and there was frozen shit falling from the sky. I don’t know which circle of hell this is, but I don’t like it. I feel like it’s especially cruel to make us suffer through the SECOND HOTTEST SUMMER IN AUSTIN HISTORY with 90 days at or over 100 degrees. – Ninety. Effing. Days. – and then do this shit a month later. I’ll just go right out and say it, mother nature is being an asshole right now.

Luckily by some miracle all of the precipitation seemed to die right when it got to the farm’s doorstep. Totally dry here. Windy as hell, soooo freaking windy, but dry. Up at my house, NW of the city, we got a good coating of ice and the wind knocked a neighbors tree into a powerline, which apparently sent sparks flying out of it for almost an hour before the city showed up to fix it. Rob said he stood there at the back door watching it in case he had to grab the animals and make a hasty exit. And then the next day the city came swooping through the neighborhood trimming trees, leaving huge branches and tools and trash scattered all over the place in their wake. Cool. But hey, the house didn’t catch on fire and now everyone’s trees are well-trimmed, so there’s that.

I was outside cleaning stalls and doing barn chores as the front blew in, which made things extra exciting. On my way home from work I had tried to pop into the sporting goods store and buy the coveralls I had my eye on for Black Friday, but the place was totally ransacked. I diverted to plan B, ski pants, which were suggested by Jen. They were only $30 and miraculously there was one pair left in my size, so I figured why not. Let me tell you, those things have been da real MVP these last couple days, especially when I’m in and out of the house a lot to go dole out more hay or check on the horses. I can be wearing my leggings in the house, slip on the ski pants at the door, go do my thing in glorious warmth, then just drop trou at the door when I come back in. They’re easy, and they make a huge difference. It’s like wearing a sleeping bag on each leg.

The other thing that’s been a great life choice? My alpaca socks. I’ve had them for a couple years but mostly have just worn them around the house at home. Now I’m layering them under my Blundstones and lord they are fantastic. I like them a lot more than my wool socks. They’re a little thicker, but they fit just fine in my boots. Boy are they soft and comfortable, and my feet are so warm but somehow never sweaty. Perfect for barn work in the cold. I came inside and ordered another pair last night (navy of course).
While I’ve been busy adding layers and experimenting with all kinds of new expletives about the weather (“bitchsicle” is a word btw, and it goes wonderfully with my all time favorite, “twatapotamus”) there are a couple of farm residents that have been absolutely loving it. I’ll give you a hint:

The Baby Idiots (which I think has some legitimacy as a band name) have been enjoying themselves immensely. Their games of tag just go on and on and on and on. Quinnie, their supervisor and life coach, is not thrilled by this, but she just stands there and lets it happen around her. You can practically see her thinking “nope, this is beyond my pay grade.”. They know better than to get too close to her.
I think it’s fantastic that Presto has a friend his age to engage in these shenanigans with, because clearly he’s having a grand ol’ time, and it’s good for him to be running around and getting some exercise. He would probably be a shitty racehorse though, since he LOVES to go juuuust fast enough to stay within biting distance of JB’s ass. I suppose it’s a good thing JB loves to be chased just as much as Presto loves to give chase. They’re super entertaining to watch, I’ll say that much. Two peas in a dingus pod.
Presto’s blanket, though… it’s not had such a great time. Yesterday (which, if anyone is counting, is day 4 of being worn by Presto) it suffered a grievous wound. Four years with Henry and it suffered nary a scratch. Four days with Presto and it’s got a gaping hole in the butt. It’s certainly not a stretch to imagine how this happened.

The other side also kind of looked like he’d tried to roll in the pond with it… there was a suspicious level and color of mud that doesn’t exist anywhere else besides the edge of the pond. I figured he’d end up in there eventually, this horse is a magnet for mayhem.
It was suggested that perhaps instead of a unicorn blanket, he needs one with the poop emoji. I 100% agree. How do I get one of those?























