Changing Times . . . .

Somebody must have told Liam about the time change. 

Like clockwork, he in his usual spot greeting me first thing this morning. 

That was after I awakened at the usual time---on the clock anyway. 

I set all the clocks in the house during the early evening hours last night. 

Maybe that's why Liam knew when to greet.  Those Border Collies are pretty smart, ya know. 

Anyway, we've all begun the Spring Forward routine without missing a beat. 

Even the horses didn't act too surprised when I opened the barn door an hour early today.  

Of course, whenever there's food to be eaten, they don't care what time it is. 

Speaking of that barn door, I'll be really glad to see one more change leading toward spring. 

I do believe and pray that tonight will be the last night in the teens.  

And, if the ground starts getting back to normal, maybe I can open that big sliding door with a bit more ease and with fewer profanities.  

I learned at dinner time with family Friday night that barn door opening is a common thing and that the reaction to a door that refuses to budge is pretty much the same in both optical and audio terms. 

Optically, there's the always hopeful first grab at the door handle followed by a tug. 

Then, comes the audio which sounds a lot like that stuff in the barn stalls waiting for its morning scoop job. 

Next comes the shovel (at least at my house where the door won't open because the ground has been heaving).  At the Colburn barn, it's concrete. 

Anyway, at my house, the shovel goes into action, working as a level and a prying tool.  Pry that door from its locked in position and lift. 

It usually takes about three sessions of shovel, pry, lift and tug, all interspersed with audio, of course.  

Finally, the door relents.  Then comes the push-and-pull stage where once the door is slightly open, the human stands with feet wide apart, one hand gripping the handle, the other pressing on the inside.

While horses watch and nicker, this pull and push, pull and push action takes about two minutes.  This is necessary at my house because water which has melted in the afternoon has turned to solid ice overnight. 

I don't even want to talk about what a toll this morning excercise takes on one's aging body.  I'll just say that the shoulders, arms, hands and vocal cords get a good workout. 

Often over the past few weeks, a similar workout has been necessary in the evenings when the door needs to be shut.

So, to take barn door manipulation out of my schedule will be really nice.  Hope it happens sooner rather than later cuz I don't know how much more my shoulders and arms can take. 

Yesterday, a hint of spring was permeating throughout the area. Snow began to melt.  The afternoon sun cast a feeling of welcome warmth.  

Huge masses of snow with their huge icicle teeth crashed to the ground from eaves where they'd been hanging on for days.

Around here, horses eagerly gathered for barnyard grooming, and Foster stood patiently on the pickup tailgate for his spring haircut. 

Even Bill, the rehab man, made it outside with his knee roller.  For a long time, he simply stood soaking up sun while I snipped away at Foster's hair coat.

As I worked, and Bill soaked and Foster stood still, we listened to neighbors target practicing and birds singing or cawing from pretty much every direction.  Horse trailer traffic to and from neighborhood arenas picked up too. 

By evening, the snow melt had created several expanding pools of water around the place, including right at the garage door. 

A few hours later, when I took the dogs for their evening walk, thankfully, the little lakes had frozen.  

That's a double-edged sword when this happens cuz all that melting is going to create another unwelcome chore in place of the barn-door challenge.  

Muddy feet, eight of them, belonging to pups who stay in the main part of the house at night, will need to be washed and dried every time they come in the house. 

So, it's definitely one of those "be careful what you wish for" scenarios." 

Nevertheless, mud season means green grass and dryer ground, eventually.  So, there's always a trade-off. 

In the meantime, it's another nice, crisp spring morning in the neighborhood.  The door to the barn has been forced open once more.  Plus, we've survived and succeeded at another "spring forward" awakening.

Soon, an hour earlier than usual, Liam will be begging to go outside.  

Half an hour after that, when he knows I'm finished with my inside chores and hears me zip my coat, he'll start yipping at the door, begging me to "please hurry up and come out to play." 

Some things never change when you live on Border Collie time. 

Happy Sunday.