Right Place, Right Time

It was hot yesterday. My car read as high as 109℉, but it was probably only 102℉ officially. Although Izzy looked as perky as always, I was tired after this weekend's clinic, so I didn't even bother to put on breeches. I showed up to the barn in shorts, a tank top, and wildly inappropriate flip flops. A clinic write-up is coming, I swear, but for now, I need to go on a bit more about how awesome my new barn is.

Bye-bye holes!

Regino, or Reggie for short, lives at the ranch and serves as an all-around fix-it guy. He runs the tractor, fixes stuff that breaks (ahem ... Izzy!), and takes care of the landscaping. Basically, he's fabulous. I mentioned that the arena was getting a teensy bit uneven and would it be possible for it to get smoothed out some time over the next few weeks and viola! - the ranch owner passed my request on to Reggie, and before I knew it, it was done. 

This is just the front half of Izzy's paddock.

Yesterday, Reggie noticed that I had both boys out on the lawn letting them graze, so he asked if I wanted him to drag Izzy's turnout. I didn't even have to ask, he volunteered. Having a dedicated "staff" is amazing.
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I puttered around on the two front lawns while Reggie smoothed out Izzy's holes; he had at least three. While Reggie was at it, he scraped down the dried-out manure piles and spread them as well. 

Before he drove the tractor in, he laughed about first needing to pick up all of Izzy's toys. He said he likes to heap them up in a pyramid shape because he knows that Izzy enjoys dismantling the pile. Notice the newly built pyramid.

While Reggie was still smoothing things out, I put Izzy on the other side (it's crossed fenced), and fed him his beet pulp and Platinum. When Reggie drove the tractor out, I locked the outside gate and opened the dividing gate to let Izzy have both sides again. Reggie came over to watch.

Izzy left his beet pulp and immediately went to investigate Reggie's handiwork. He sniffed the newly leveled ground, came over to both of us to give his approval, and then made his way back to his dinner.

Reggie and I both laughed at Izzy and hoped the work had met my big brown horse's expectations. The way in which he checked it out left us no doubt what he was doing. 

Sometimes, being in shorts and flip flops is as productive as being in breeches and boots - right place, right time.