Wake up: my niece shoving breakfast in my face. Not enough sleep after too much travel, and I start the day already behind schedule. It's time to haul hay. I've been hauling hay since I was five years old, and it just doesn't ever get easier. Quite the opposite, instead.

Go outside: first round of hauling. No, not in, out: the horses won't touch this new hay, so we have to haul 200 bales back to the farm. The farmer, initially very understanding, has turned inexplicably hostile, and dropped us as a customer.

To the farm: hostilities flare on all sides as we unload 200 bales. Why can't people be adult?

To the new farm: hauling the replacement hay. 180 bales this load.

To the house: unloading. Teenagers getting whiny. Decide we can do without them for the rest of the day. More work for the rest of us, but less annoyance.

Back to the new farm: 120 more bales.

Back to the house: just in time for sunset. Unloading by flashlight. Oh, joy...

Done at last: the horses will eat for the winter, so Sandy's happy. She comes out of the bathroom, and I grab her and kiss her, depositing half the hay dust that's on me onto her, after she had just brushed off the dust she had accumulated.

A perfect day...