Requiem for Comet's Nads...

So I got a call from H this morning around nine. I'd planned a fairly mild day, mostly around wood cutting. If the temperature came up somewhat, maybe I'd bake bread.

H: Hey, Joel! Can you come over and clean the stalls today instead of tomorrow? The vet's coming to give Comet his little operation and it would be good if we could get the flies down some.

Me: Sure, I can do that. When's he coming?

H: In about an hour.

Um...Okay, so I'm suddenly in a hurry. Get the boys to Gitmo, hurry over to J&H's. They want Comet's shelter cleaned first, and put down new bedding. I wasn't expecting any problem since Comet's not normally too bad about messing up his shelter, but I hadn't reckoned with the two days of nasty weather. Comet apparently spent the weekend watching porn and munching Doritos indoors, because his shelter was a reeking pit from wall to slimy wall. Really, now: If you had a ten-gallon bladder, wouldn't you step outside to empty it?

But no. So all his old bedding had to go, and since straw really fills up a shitwagon fast that meant several trips back and forth just for that one thing. Being a day early, I was expecting an easy session but it was not to be.

Worked out well, though. Saturday when Landlady was here she brought me payment someone had mailed her for a gig I finished a couple of weeks ago so I had money in my pocket and was pretty anxious to spend it on gasoline and propane*, both of which I'm a little low on. J planned a trip to town this morning, and needed some help at the feed store anyway. So now I don't have any money, but I do have fuel and some munchies. Everything sorts itself out if you relax and let it, while keeping your eye open for opportunity.

And yes, I've had a better day than poor li'l Comet. When we got back from town he was in the round pen getting some help to walk off the last of the anesthetic, and he did not look like a happy boy. He's now officially (and in every other way) a gelding.
---

*Man, I remember the last three winters when I burned propane for heat but never knew when my next cop-free ride to town was going to happen. I went cold many a day just because I had to make that stuff STREEEETTTCCHH. Now I only use it for cooking, and life is much finer. When I'm short of firewood, I always know where to go pick it off the trees. It's more work, but far less anxiety.