My morning routine down in the barn has been thrown out of whack with Cindy's death. I'm used to doing things in a certain way: this follows that, that before this, bring Inga out on a lead and put her on the stand, go back and let Cindy out.... I don't seem to be able to break the habit of going into the back stalls because that's what comes next. Time; it just takes time.
This is evidently one of those dratted chest colds that is going to take a long time to get over. It has, however, given me the best excuse to sit in the sunshine (while there is sunshine) and do nothing. Bess is totally down with that and we bask on the deck together after barn chores.
The past few days have been glorious, making it hard to face the rain and low snow that are predicted starting tomorrow. We begged for rain for five years and, boy!, are we getting it. The hills and fields are green, green, green. John Dear and I will have ample time to bond this year.