Pajama Round Up-by Carole Mercer

I know better. I really do know better. Last night things were strange. Who knows why or if there even is really a “why?” The horses were restless and I couldn’t sleep so I read the night away. Saturday night –sleepless in Eagle Point …a good book in hand at 3 am on Sunday morning.

Finally I could feel the small hours of the morning begin to change. The owls made their last hooting cries. The coyotes yipped on their way back to their dens. The morning air turned very moist. Fall fog was forming in this last hour before dawn. I gave sleep one last half hearted try. It was, of course, Sunday morning…a morning that I could rest and sleep in.

Sleep would not come. The horses were still restless. I kept hearing them pace in the paddock…then quiet….never a good sequence…noise… then quiet with livestock.

I crawled out of bed. It was 6 am.

Still very dark. I made a fire and put on a pot of hot water for instant coffee. I longed to have the Sunday paper to read. I decided commit the cardinal sin on a ranch…I decided to walk up to the mailbox in my slippers and cowboy pajamas.

Let me describe the “cowboy” pajamas. I have a red flannel shirt top with bucking horses and cowboys darting all over the shirt. The bottoms are cozy red flannel pajama bottoms. Nothing stylish…just warm…I needed my red coat too as the fog was forming this fall morning.

Out the back door I went. I looked up and saw the horses in the pasture.

They are not supposed to be in the pasture…ah – now I knew why it got so quiet all of sudden. One of them had picked the gate lock and opened the pasture gate sometime last night. Prize, one of the mares, is the “prize” lock picker.

I walked out and herded them in my “cowboy pajamas.” They were so silly. They ran and ran and ran in the corral. I said aloud “The time has come. I have to put corner panels in the paddock so no one horse can trap another and hurt themselves. I’ve needed to do that for 20 years and this morning is the morning.”

I walked up and got the Sunday paper.

I came home. The horses were still racing around. Silly girls. I changed out of the pajamas and into work clothes. No easy Sunday morning for me.

I moved the horses into their stalls. I unplugged the hot wire charger. I took down the necessary hot wire.

Dragged the panels over, placed them, fastened them to the fence and then redid the hot wire. Naturally I had to trim the cypress trees too because the branches were starting to touch the hot wire.

Then I tended to the knocked down gate. I took it off the hinges, hauled it down to the hay field for temporary (for the next 20 years) panel and hauled the gate panel up to replace the broken gate. It was now 11:30 Sunday paper still unread.

I came in, had breakfast/lunch= brunch – a Sunday brunch- how delightful….cold meatloaf and green beans.

I then rode the mares. I took two at a time and rode the 140 pasture. The fog had lifted and fall was in her warm sunny glory.

I have been working with Dolly teaching her to drive. Today I had the cart shaves in the tugs and she pulled the very light training cart from the tugs. She is being such a good girl.
The Sunday paper was finally read at 4:30 pm with the company of an early dinner.

Life here is once again very good. I really have fixed the gates and fences.

3 Responses to Pajama Round Up-by Carole Mercer

  1. Leah Young says:

    Hi Carole,

    What a delightful story!

  2. Carole instills in her moving descriptions of actual accounts writings that bring buds to blossoms that entail how powerful us woman folk are to the clairvoyance of a ranch or farm which we have worked ourselves.
    Its a feeling.
    Its a life.
    And is also her livelihood.

  3. Sabine Mayer says:

    What would you do without your mares?
    Is it fun to read your newspaper in morning with a coffee to wake up?!


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