Farm Fresh Blog

Physics was never my strong suit, but for some reason, I constantly feel the need to stretch the time-space continuum as I consistently schedule more activities than the time alloted to me, i.e. I have a tendency to overschedule myself.

I study the calendar in amazement. Where did October go?!!  The holidays are looming and I have soap orders to fill.

Making soap can be quite time-consuming. Each batch makes 7 lbs of soap. Each batch takes approximately an hour to make. I have enough molds for three batches at a time.  This effectively eats up most of a day.  I have been steadily making soap, drying soap, packaging soap, and delivering soap each weekend in October and the orders keep coming in.  Like me, I suppose everyone else is staring at calendar pages flying away.

Last weekend I had the brilliant (it seemed like a good idea at the time) idea of combining my one day a week of horseback riding with soap deliveries. Since many of my orders are coming from horsewomen anyway, we can ride horses, and then exchange soap for money.

What's not to love? So I made arrangements LAST weekend to drop off soap THIS weekend.

Now this sounded good on the surface, but the best laid plans of "mice and men" and women who multi-task . . .

So let's take a quick tally of tasks I planned yesterday:

1) deliver soap
2) ride Scout -Mustang paint who hasn't been ridden in a month and a half
3) take Joe to his physical therapy session

SCREECH!  Joe's physical therapy session!  I forgot about it until Saturday afternoon when Dear Friend Ken called. Ken, who is not only a Rocket Scientist is also a licensed massage therapist who specializes in equine sports massage and trigger point therapy.  ( http://www.texasanimalmassage.com/ ) 

 It had come to my attention that Joe's saddle regularly leans to the left.  Hmmmm . . .

This caused me to note that his left shoulder is much more developed than his right shoulder.  Hmmmm . . .

Closer inspection reveals that Joe's spine is not properly aligned. Hmmmm . . .

Yeah, that makes sense. That would explain why a horse as sweet and well-trained as Joe was dumped from a career as a playday horse for children into a retirement home with a 5 year old child who didn't ride him much. Since I've just ridden him on slow easy trail rides, I've never seen a problem with him, but nevertheless, now that I know Mr. Joe HAS a problem, I feel compelled to help him. So I set up an appointment with Dear Friend Ken . . . who called Saturday to confirm our appointment . . . which I had forgotten about. Soooo . . . I decided to scrap riding Scout and ride Joe instead. (no big loss there!)

Updated plan:  Take Joe to park. Sell soap. Ride Joe. Have Joe's physical therapy in park after ride.

It sounded good . . . except for the 40% chance of rain. 

Now as any farmer will tell you, weather is a fickle thing, and even on the best day, farming and ranching is a gamble. For instance, Other Half spent time on a tractor and big bucks on rye seed for a winter pasture only to have any chance of rain whisk away with the clouds right after the seed was broadcast. Thus, I didn't take this 40% chance of rain seriously. I figured that either way, I win.  If my ride got rained out, I could still sell soap, and we'd at least get rain on the rye seed. Sometime we have to hunt for the silver lining in the clouds.

And so it was that this morning I happily loaded up the truck with soap, loaded Joe in the trailer, and tooled down the road . . . straight into the rain. It was rainin' harder than a cow pissin' on a flat rock.  Joe and I sat in the parking lot and watched it rain.  Naturally, we got there early . . .  an hour early, so Joe and I had an hour to watch it rain. And rain it did. And rain. And I drank an entire frappuccino while I watched it rain.

The nice thing about our horse trailer is that it has a potty it has a door leading from the living quarters into the horsey section. So after I used the potty I joined Joe in the back. He ate hay while I answered text messages assuring friends that their soap was here. And troopers that they are, they kept on driving in the rain.

As soon as the rain eased a bit, I started moving soap from the truck to the horse trailer which smelled like a wet horse which was the only dry place to display soap.  The living quarters made a less than stellar soap showroom, but it was dry and we needed the rain.  I no sooner got the soap moved than the ladies began arriving. Bless their hearts, they braved the rain, and brought blue skies with them. In no time they had Joe unloaded, tied to the side with a bag of hay, and the shopping had commenced.

And despite the fact that I was showcasing beautiful, decadent, luxurious soap in a dirty horse trailer with horse poop and hay all over the floor (or because of it), the soap sold. Everyone was happy. The air was filled with the odor of wet horse fragrant soap, blue skies and happy women. I scrapped the idea of riding Joe, but those who brought horses saddled up and rode just as Joe's physical therapy session began.

And suddenly the world which had been spinning so fast finally slowed down, and I took some time to breathe. Dear Friend Ken and Joe had a wonderful session and in a very short time he, (Joe not Ken), was yawning and leaning into his therapist. In fact, Joe had such a good time that he had an uncharacteristic brain fart and decided that he didn't want to get in the trailer for the trip back home.  And why should he? At the park he had hay, horsey friends, and a therapist who feeds him peppermints. What's not to love?

After much cajoling, I was finally forced to break out the "rod of obedience" and Joe reluctantly agreed after one tap that perhaps it was in his best interest to load up.  Although we missed our ride, we arrived home with money in our pocket, hugs from old friends and new friends, and blue skies . . . really, really blue skies - and a still dusty pasture.  What the heck?!!

Apparently the rain that soaked me, and the horse, and the park, and had left rivers coursing through the parking lot, had rained itself out before it hit my pastures.  Grrrrrr . . . Good grief.

Oh well, at least I learned that Joe is excellent company when you're stuck together in a horse trailer in the pouring rain. 

 "Got peppermints?"