I awoke today just like any other day. Put my long underwear on one leg at a time. Or tried. It always seems that one leg is turned inside out, making reinsertion in the dark difficult if not impossible. Grabbed my sweatshirt, put in on backwards. Tried again, got it right. Slippers went on the wrong feet.
Just a normal morning.
Started the coffee and glanced at the trusty indoor/outdoor digital thermometer. It read -0.0. That's Minus Zero Point Zero. Just how unapologetically unoptimistic could that thermometer be? Minus Zero? Minus? Talk about starting the day on a negative.
So I added another layer of clothes before heading out to feed the boys. I know, I know, there are two mares out there, but I call the outside critters The Boys. I have a need to keep things simple in my advancing age. The snow was squeaky cold. Twelve nostrils were blowing steam, waiting for breakfast. Two nostrils were frozen shut. Those were mine. Checked over the boys as I fed, looking for ice cuts on their legs, feeling for warm armpits, looking for any signs of cold. Heck, they can handle this weather, why can't I?
I think the answer is simple: they have no concept of time. Us humans know that winter is just starting, and there are at least 75 more days of this crap. Many of which promise to be worse, much worse. Those days will be followed by 75 more of cold, wet, slop and mud. Then we get what seems to be a flash of warmth and green, and the whole process starts over again.
How's that for optimism?
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