Saturday, July 2, 2011

Baby birds and lawnmowers

Went out this morning to water the flowers and found this on the arm of the bench. Momma was up in the tree over his head, and she was NOT happy.

I stuck him back up on a tree branch.

He was gone later, and mama was too, so unless a cat had him for breakfast, his second attempt at flight must have gone a bit better than the first one.

Whatever karma I accumulated there apparently didn't cover the lawnmower - I managed to get about a third of the lawn mowed before a big chunk of twisted metal flew out from underneath to the tune of much banging and some smoke. Not the blade - that was last year. It's why I mow in boots and jeans, not flip-flops and shorts!

I don't mind push mowers, but I think that one has had it.

Did some weeding, some laundry, took a nap... And decided it was time for some fun.

Pony Time!

Hooked the trailer up, headed for the farm and collected the boys. They look thrilled, right? Actually, they were pleased to by fly-sprayed, and since it rained yesterday, nature took care of the bath, so that was one thing off my list.

What do you think - do they look like half-brothers?
Same sire - but Thunder's dam was taller and a bit more elegant.
I'm biased, but I think Sunny has a prettier head.

Sunny also got less hairy genes. His fetlocks, without clipping...

Don't look at their toes, please - the farrier's coming!

My mom likened Thunder's to draft horse feathers - okay, a slight exaggeration, but he does have big feet even when they're freshly trimmed, and they are certainly hairier.

Sunny says, "Come on, already -
put the camera down and let's DO something."

Did some trailer loading practice. Thunder was a star. Sunny... tried backing around the corner of the trailer the first time up. But I was expecting that, and once he realized it wasn't an option, he stepped right in.

I worked with Thunder some on saddling steps - completely forgot to take one of the lighter saddles along, but he was a-okay with the pad. I upped the ante a bit with some rattly saddle bags, and he was fine with those, too.

As I turned them back out, I could hear the fireworks starting to pop off towards town. They didn't seem too concerned. It's times like these when I'm really happy they live next to a pheasant hunting lodge. Things that go BANG! don't generally phase them.

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