I was going to write a long blog entry today on a subject dear to my heart, which is something of a difference for me. However:
After spending hours yesterday mucking out the horses in a relatively temperate 30 degrees (that's centigrade) I finally finished about eight o'clock and then fell into my bed from where I didn't emerge until late this morning.
Great, I thought, lots of tea, lots of computering and lots of blogging.
Wrong. For reason I won't go into, but for anyone with daughters will be pretty much self explanatory, I have to go back to those four ungrateful little sods and do it all again. Oh, the joys of shovelling horse excrement under a blazing sky. And the horseflies. Almost as big as ME 109's but twice as nasty, they buzz around tearing pieces of flesh away that I'd rather keep. And even swearing at the little sods has no effect other than to annoy the the owner of the stables and amuse the horses who just swish their tails in delight.
I wish I had a tail sometimes.
I'd use it to flog those poo making machines into eating less, or at least do it in the same spot every day to make my work easier.
No photo credits. I drew this after poo-picking a field for an entire day once. That time under six inches of snow.