Of course last evening didn't end any better then this one started. I skated, slipped and whirled myself down to the barn, hanging on
to the dog's tail as the wind took us in every direction but the one we wanted to go in. Upon opening the door, I was met with floating
bales of hay and six inches of water. The only amusing part was when the horses were reaching over their stall doors to see if they could get a bite as the bales floated by. It was a up hill climb on the way back slipping and falling right in the middle of a nice pile of wet doggie doo, doo. At this point, I have a sleeve full of doggie business, a very wet bum and I'm sliding backward down the hill on a skim of water. If it wasn't for my trusty hound and her stablity of four paws on the ground, I wouldn't have made it home. Of course, I wouldn't have
fallen in dog doo doo either, but that is really a minor point.
I tell you, if you don't laugh, a person would have to start drinking...heavily.