Stupidly Happy, Tired and Sore

As Brett and I drove out the front gate this morning, on our way to the corner market so he could get mushrooms for his scrambled eggs, I looked over at Lucy, Pistol and Jackson contentedly grazing and said, "Is it stupid that I am so happy that they are back in their pasture?"

Pistol

Brett has been working on replacing the fence that came down under the weigh of the falling oak tree.  It's been slow and difficult work for him -- getting the holes dug, the posts set (perfectly straight), and the rails up -- all by himself.  He had about half of it done, including a new gate to go with the new pedestrian bridge (made from the oak tree), at the start of this week.

Thursday, his friend Marty came up to help put up the rest.  It looks awesome.

Saturday morning, I helped Brett clean up the piles of old fencing, old bent and rusty wire, and the pieces of left over wood.  It took us a couple hours to get the pasture horse ready.

And then we brought them over, out of the confines of the small arena.

Lucy and Jackson

We brought Jackson over too.  The weather is warming, and the ground is dry in most places.  I did find him, this morning, standing in the one marshy area eating away.

Jackson

The water in their water trough had turned a lovely shade of green in the three months since the tree fell and we moved the girls out.  All the gold fish had died, and the water looked disgusting.  I emptied it, throwing bucket after bucket of water over the fence since the drain doesn't work.  We refilled it with fresh water and bought some goldfish.

Lucy

I think we're set.