A Three Sweatshirt Day

This morning as Brett and I did chores, we noted dark, cloud filled, skies to the west and sunny skies to the east.  We headed out to the farmers market at 8:00 and I planned to ride Lucy upon our return home.  Halfway to Placerville, we hit scattered raindrops.  By the time we parked, fifteen minutes later, it was pouring.  We grabbed our basket and hit the "must have" vendors.  First, the pasta guy where we bought some pear and arugula ravioli.  Next, the bread gal who, Brett noted, was not wearing shorts as usual but was bundled up in jeans and a jacket.  We bought some breadsticks to go with our dinner tonight (stew), Brett's favorite apple cinnamon bread, an almond croissant for me and a cinnamon roll for Brett.  We were already wet.  Next, I headed for my favorite vegetable vendor while Brett stood under the nearest pop-up.  I loaded up with purple carrots for our stew, romaine and chard.  Last, we picked up apples and pears and then hightailed it back to the car.  The hood of my sweatshirt was soaked.  When we got home, I changed into sweatshirt number two.  Of course, it was pouring at home by then.  The mares were in their run-in, the goats were in, the chickens were in (except for one very wet hen that had gotten outside the fence and couldn't get back in), and Jackson was already in the barn with his trail boots on.  Everyone was dry, including Flash and Mufasa who were standing under the trees in their pasture.

The rain fell all morning, steady and hard.  By noon, we had over half an inch.  We fed the mares in their run in and Brett got hay set up in the barn stalls for Flash and Mufasa.  When Mufasa saw me coming with my rain jacket hood up and pulled tight around my face, his head flew up and he backed away.  Brett handed me Flash's lead -- Flash didn't even notice my hood.

Despite wearing a rain jacket and rain pants, the rain soaked through to my sweatshirt.  I hung the wet sweatshirt with the other one, in front of the wood stove, and put on number three.

Mid-afternoon the rain took a break.  Lucy came out, rolled in the mud and trotted over to the fence to see me.  Then she noticed Flash who had heard her trotting and was standing with his head over the run-out fence, his ears pricked towards her.  They looked at each other for awhile and then Flash went back inside the barn to finish his lunch.

In the early evening, just before starting chores, Brett looked outside and noticed that Whiskey and Cowboy were out again.  I rounded them up, bribing them with Cheerios.  Lucy had her head over the fence expecting to share the treats.

Brett staked the bottom of the fence down, it was loose by the water trough -- just enough to let the little black goats slip through.  He reinforced another small gap while the goats, Pistol and Lucy watched.

Lucy expected attention.  Lucy always expects attention.

We finished up the chores and headed back to the warmth of the house.