Warmth and several days of rain have combined to cause a flush of grass growth. Which means we have this happening in the pony paddock right now.
Poor Bonnie, doing more time in the mask of shame. And in mid-winter too — it’s a year of strange weather patterns to be sure.
She’s been very tolerant, standing quietly with just a hint of resentment as I buckle her in. The grazing muzzle is her least-favorite thing. It rates about on a par with tractors (noisy, smelly, and clearly looking out for little fat ponies to eat), and the lunge rein (‘What! You want me to trot in circles? I need to shed a few kilos?! Rubbish, I’m just short for my weight don’t you know!’).
On the plus side, what’s good for growing grass is also good for growing garlic. Our vampire deterrent crop is shooting away beautifully.
Bonnie says garlic is of no interest to her whatsoever. She says, it’s a little known fact, but vampires rarely bother black girls who can throw down the complete lyrics of Public Enemy’s Fight the Power. Yeah. Go shortie!