Spring has arrived in the Bluegrass. I know the calendar says it started almost a week ago, but that’s wrong. Sunday was one of the coldest days I’ve spent in the saddle in a long time. Spring, my ass! Actual temperature wasn’t bad (40ish), but that 20-mph wind made me (and others) glad I’d switched my flask contents to Wild Turkey Kentucky Spirit. But, just a few short days later, spring is unquestionably here; a flat-out screaming coyote run in 65-degree weather on Wednesday was getting uncomfortably close to overheating an unclipped horse.
As I’ve mentioned before, aside from the general warmth, one pleasant indicator of spring is the blossoming of bare navels on campus, and the last few days have provided ample views. On a slightly related topic, I had the pleasure of seeing a very nicely fitting t-shirt today that said “My boyfriend thinks I’m stunning”. I thought her boyfriend must be a wise and lucky man; I could certainly agree with his appraisal and envy his luck. Then I got a closer look at the letters somewhat obscured in the cleavage, and realized it didn’t say stunning; it said “My boyfriend thinks I’m studying”. That produced a whirlwhind of thoughts, all of which were probably best left unsaid.
Spring always brings a mix of emotions. Mainly, I like it. I sometimes say that the older I get, the less tolerant I am of extreme weather, and it’s getting to the point where I’m only happy in April and September. I like having hours of daylight when I get home from work. I like being able to take advantage of the daylight without sweltering. But it’s not all roses and navels. It also means the end of hunt season, and a shortage of new West Wing episodes. But overall, I guess I’ll take it.
As the weather and available daylight improve, I’m looking around at various maintenance tasks, and decided that anything requiring a truck might as well wait a couple of weeks until I can leave truck and trailer separated for a while. During hunt season, they stay hitched for weeks, even months, at a time. With the end of hunting drastically curtailing Arthur’s social life, the truck can perform farm chores without needing to be hooked up again anytime soon