Was mowing the upper pasture – which I lease from my wonderful neighbors – the other evening and suddenly started giggling.
The vision of all of those pictures my Facebook friends have been posting all summer flashed into mind. The proverbial vacation shot: relaxing in a lounge share you pick uf the camera and take a picture of what you see, which is your toes and beyond that a) the crystal blue pool b) a beach with the beckoning ocean beyond or c) a cool, green mountain view from a log cabin.
So here I am on my Bad Boy (here he is resting at the barn)
with my feet stretched out before me and I happen to gaze down to my feet and the image of those vacationing friends’ toes comes to mind. My painted toenails are covered by my grubby barn sneakers.(Which by the way, I have just discovered smell. Kenny the contractor showed up the other day while I was in the barn and when we went into the kitchen to discuss something I got a whiff of how ripe those shoes that always stay outside the mudroom smell. Yikes! And my barn doesn’t smell!)
The thing is (nod to my brother Mark Lipinski) then and there I also realized I couldn’t have been any happier right where I was on a hot afternoon in that four acre field under the zero-turn’s canopy, ears blasted by the powerful vrrrm of thr mower, bugs flying by about, smelling the grass as I cut it for the first hints of autumn (soon, please!) and most importantly with the horses happily munching away, all the while seeing my efforts turn the pasture so pretty.
So last evening while the pedicurist dug the dirt out from around and under my toenails I tried not to flinch. And thought perhaps it was time to go home for an umbrella drink here at my farm where vacation is a state of mind.
P.S. Yes, there are only three horsies here. I’m picking Tina up at Joy’s Finishing School tomorrow. We miss her naughty little self!