Spring ... not Vermont's best season

I've been waiting with an increasing sense of desperation for the warm temperatures of spring. Once the snow melts in our neck of the woods, especially when we've had a bunch of it as we did this winter, the mud sets in. And unless the temperatures warm up, the muds stays ... and stays ... and stays. We're at that stage now. There have been a couple of warm days scattered here and there over the last few weeks, but for the most part we've had lots of rain, gray skies, cold days and even some sleet (today).

Due to the weather, the horses have had some stretches indoors, which I completely understand; I certainly don't want them tearing around in the mud and hurting themselves, and the horses and I are definitely in agreement that we want the grass to grow. Right now, when they do go out, they're being turned out on the low end of the paddock area, which tends to stay the muddiest. The paddocks on the higher end of the slope are being saved so that the grass can come in.

Yesterday the sun was shining so I took off from work a few hours early to enjoy the blue skies and relatively warm (50 degrees) weather. I rode Dude out to the outdoor arena with barn owner Julie on her horse Sky, and it was really pleasant. The path to the outdoor was fairly dry, and it was super nice to feel the sunshine and see everything greening up.

Then today we woke up to the sleet and wind. Yuck. I went to the barn mid-afternoon to take care of Dude and Bestie. There were two jumping lessons going on so I couldn't get them into the indoor for a roll, and because of the wet weather the path to the outdoor (and likely the outdoor arena itself) was really muddy. Our options were pretty much limited to grazing along the path. It was fairly windy, and Dude was hyper sensitive to every little bang of the barn door, so I didn't stay out with him too long. There's not enough grass to distract him from being crazy, and after his third leap sideways I decided to save my right arm from further yanking and marched him back into the barn. He pranced the whole way, snorting at all the invisible scary things outside. Sigh.

Bestie was fine when I took her outdoors, so she hit the jackpot - a walk up to the top of the ridge where there's a patch of growing grass, and a graze for about 20 minutes. She definitely was on alert with the wind, but she seems to process stuff more than Dude, who goes into reactive "the mountain lion's after me" mode. Bestie heard the banging sounds, looked up, and I could see her determine that it was the arena door. Splashing and clunking? Just a car coming down the road. No drama. Love it.