the thing about saints is, it never stops. it may slow for a few moments for moses, but we don't have the luxury to just stop and grieve.
the heavy equipment arrived this morning and started the moving of the manure to a safer location. the first bin arrived, but that was too small so the rest is a mountain in the riding ring til more bins arrive. the sand and gravel trucks will start coming in this evening to bring the material for the machines to spread down. we have to fix the slippery, muddy areas before horse or human join me with broken bones. apparently there is a dangerous electrical switch, somewhere out in the barn so greg did a walk around, looking closely at human/animal safety and has compiled a list of things we need to fix.
the emails and phone calls for animals in need, still come in whether we are happy or sad. and tyra knows that today we lost moses because she laid outside of that door with her nose shoved underneath and witnessed his passing too. only with death does she ever slow down and become gentle, she softly laid her head inside my shirt and sighed along with me when she could finally come in.
spritely's leg looks a bit swollen from the window when i look thru the glass. and it took me almost an hour just to change the sheets on my bed. the furnace guy came here and fixed the shops heater and the gas fireplace too. and the laundry and the meds and the mopping need doing just like they always do.
but when ever a saint from here passes, thru all of the words, work, and things...they hover around just beside me while i work and silently grieve.
i love you moses.