A Very Muddy Christmas

Remember this summer, when I was convinced it would never rain again? 

I was wrong. 

It's been raining here, off and on, for the past couple of weeks.  We are so incredibly grateful.  We are also so very muddy.  The drought this summer wiped out all the grass, and the rainfall runs everywhere and soaks the bare earth.  It's not cold enough to freeze the ground, or to freeze the precipitation, so it just works into the vulnerable bare earth and becomes a slick, gummy mess.  Words really fail me here, so instead I'll just show you.  By the time I took these pictures we were starting to dry out- and then it rained more and it got even worse- but you'll get the idea.

(And as I do so, allow me to remind you I grew up in the Midwest, where this time of year brings blankets of pristine white snow, frosty grass underfoot, frozen outdoor ice rinks, and sledding.  Got your mental image?)

 Beep didn't let mud stop her from feeding her deer.

Stop! In the name of love...

The other day, Junior spent some time hanging out while Cabbage stripped his stall.  He's looking good these days, though he's still on rest following his surgery in July.

The front of Junior's big stall is a pen open to the sky... as evidenced by the muddy morass it's become.  Cabbage has been layering it with straw and sprinkling lime powder on it in an effort to dry it out a little.  The mess laughs at Cabbage.  I heard it.  It's evil.

Obviously, boots are required footwear around here these days. 

I won't show you pictures of our mud room, but let's just say it's aptly named. I'm on strike from cleaning the floors until the mud dries up, or we grow old, retire, and sell the place to move to Boca Raton.  Whichever comes first.

Goodbye from the mud pits.