Perigee Moons
Between December and the last day of this month, there have been (or will be) three full moons in perigee. (Quick definition: Perigee means the point where the moon’s (or anything’s) orbit is the closest to the earth.)
So the last three full moons in a row have been at their closest point in their normal orbit around the earth, which means they look super big. Hence they’re are called “Super Moons”.
They’re Super. Super bright. Super close. Super pretty. Super powerful.
This is a farm. So much of everything here relies on the lunar cycle, whether you want to admit the science or mysticism of it, or not. Livestock and productivity run together. It is a necessity for a successful, productive farm.
AND WE DON’T HAVE A SHORTAGE OF FRUITFULNESS HERE…………………….(in cyber-language doesn’t using capital letters mean that I’m yelling………………………well, I am………………….I am yelling a lot).
Seasons, heats, cycles, fertility, fecundity, prolificity, uberty, (can you tell that Roger and I made a visit to his Thesaurus……………………and doesn’t the name thesaurus sound like a verbose dinosaur?).
Yep, all of those synonyms appear to be abounding here at the moment.
I think, because of the super moons, we have just about every single Irish Wolfhound bitch in season and they just won’t go out of season. All these fuzzy, PMS’ing, moody mutts are being overly-emotional and needy. Geez, Louise!
AUGH!!!!
And our whiny stud, Hadrian. Double Augh! It’s enough to pull your hair out.
Conniving girls trying to push open doors or leap over gates.
Hadrian acting all moony-eyed and misunderstood.
And I’ve run out of patience. In the past, “they” called these things “moon-times”———-geez Louise———-they are!………………….three super moon’s-worth of moon-times!!!
I’m exhausted and intolerant and irritable and sleep-deprived………………..Hadrian pines and whines and paces all night long.
Anybody out there remember the Monty Python skit about the dead parrot who was pining for the Fjords?
Well, that’s Hadrian.
He’s definitely pining for the Fjords. He’s pining and whining big time.
I’m definitely sleep-deprived and sleepy………..so I’m whining too, big time.
Well, the thirty-first of this month doesn’t seem to be just around the corner or close enough at all…………….
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Similarly———-I have just finished fixing Brave’s (the Drum Horse Stallion’s) electric fencing. There are now two top lines of zap-able wonder. There are four out of five bars illuminated on the new electric fence tester. It should be enough to get a big horse’s attention.
It “should” be enough…
It’s time to put one of our mares in with him…………………..
We’ve decided that Bell will be Date #1. She can teach him how to be a gentleman-stud.
Eighteen-plus hands and over one ton’s worth of hooves and muscle really needs to be a gentleman.
I think Bell is up to the task. She’s older and a matron. Plus, she’s a big girl. She will educate him in the ways of being a good, nice, gentle pony…………………..but only if the fence holds.
“If” everything works out (lots of “ifs”, huh?), Brave should be a wonderful stud and a beautiful example of the Drum Horse. As I’m sure I’ve already mentioned, his father was Galway Warrior.
And Galway Warrior was indeed one of the Queen of England’s Drum Horses. (Galway Warrior’s photos are on-line and they are beautiful)-(Go on………………Yahoo them……………..you know you want to.)
Sooooooooooo, if my on-going blog with Pascal (the Cloud) stops abruptly here’s why…………………………….
The fence didn’t hold, and things got ugly.
Don’t you just love suspense?
I don’t.
