Usually when I approach the computer to submit a blog post for your approval, I have a plan in mind. The story is outlined in my head and the photos have been taken.
However, the overriding thought swirling in my head this evening is not the planned outline, but donkey health. Every day for the past three days, someone has appeared under the weather. And each time, I tell Rick to help me keep an eye on the bugger and each time the ailment seems to pass. And now, it's sweet Alice. Just a bit ago I fed for the evening and her limp was pronounced. No discernible problems. So we wait and check in the morning.
But the story I had intended to tell was that of the annual routine of snow trails.
Usually the donkeys ask me to blaze the trails, but this year they forged perhaps half of them in the yard.
After the first big snowfall, I shoveled out three eating areas. Clearly you can see one of them above and there's another northwest of the tree.
And then, there's Alice. Actually she's been a big pain in the proverbial ass recently. The trails are only about the width of my shovel, meaning they're only wide enough for one person or one donkey. And lately Alice has been a master at blocking the paths. By just standing. Still. As donkeys tend to do.
In the picture to the right, she thumbed her nose at the hay in the feeding area and said she was going straight to the source. Alice is a pistol to remove from the hay aisle.
Cross your toes and fingers that Alice is back to normal tomorrow.