This problem affects all sorts. But equestrians can relate to the type of pain I've felt almost my entire life when dealing with...MUD.
I've truly come to loathe the sticky stuff and will never understand why anyone would WANT to go muddin', or play in it or be a Tough Mudder or be associated with mud in any way shape or form. Its totally beyond my comprehension. All I feel is pain and suffering when I think, see, feel or deal with MUD.
My loathing can be compared to that of the fierceness of a pack of lions roaring in the African wilderness. Or the intensity of the burning of a thousand suns. Or the volume of water molecules in all of the oceans of the world.
I really can't even when it comes to mud.
It get on my tires. My driveway. My shoes. Under my nails. On my clothes. And most annoyingly, completely seems to coat my horses on a regular basis.
Mud tail dreads. Muddy feet. Muddy bellies. Muddy manes. Muddy faces. Muddy bodies. And consequentially, muddy blankets, halters, bell boots...LITERALLY FUCKING EVERYTHING.
|Not my horse. But this is what they look like 98% of the time|
THERES NO ESCAPE.
I HATE IT.
More than most people.
I actually lay awake at night thinking about the foul looking wildebeest I call my eventing horses and my soul hurts a lotta bit.
We finally, mostly, solved the mud problem the Vollmer Farm has been plagued with for over 15 years.
(Knee deep, sticky, gloopy, disgusting mud right up next to our barn doors/gates that never dissapears until mid summer. Its torture.)
In the form of pulverized boulders.
|I think of this Spongebob episode whenever I hear the word "rock"|
|Please, disregard extremely ancient, and very ratchet old barn|
I've waited 15 years for this glorious day.
You have no idea.
I literally danced in my chair all day while my dad sent me pictures of the progression.
Scraping all the disgusting mud out. Leveling the ground. Bringing in the gravel. TAKING APART MY FENCE. Smoothing it out. GAH :D
I almost died a little when they said they had to disassemble the fence, but then I didn't care, because NO MORE MUD.
I texted my The Boy about 10 times today noting my excitement. I don't think he understood. I did not grasp why he too, was not pumped. Luckily fellow internet friends sympathized with my intense joy over fucking rocks.
I firmly believe only equestrians will comprehend the level of happiness I experienced all day.
My little heart about explodsies when I walked down to feed the horsebeasts and shone my flashlight a lightly sloping graveled area. I think I sprung a tiny tear. My horses were standing....on rocks. Not mud. They were....pretty clean and and and, their feet were...VISIBLE
OH GOD I CANT HANDLE IT
|The most beautiful thing on earth. If you dont count the partial fencing...|
or the rusted old roof..or chipped paint...or slime on the doors...