Desperate horsewives

I got to go feed horses this morning, something I haven’t had to do on a weekday for over a month. I actually found it quite relaxing as opposed to being at work at mid-day – and everyone just seemed so lovable, so that makes it even better. (Everyone meaning horses, not the people at work.)
Hannah (seen here; not a recent photo) is very pregnant. Very very pregnant. As in huge. As in “that’s no foal, that’s a space station!” And she’s not the only one – there are, I believe, six or seven pregnant mares on the farm right now, and all of them are healthy. In the springtime, we’re going to be positively hip-deep in klutzy, lovable, inquisitive, belt-loop-biting baby horses.
If you pray, pray for a bunch of silly fillies. Those, in theory, we can sell. If we don’t fall in love with ’em first (which is admittedly easy to do with the little ones). The only mare that my wife and I bred this year is Hannah, so Waddling Hannah is a good thing.