This morning I went out to feed the animals as always, and as the barn cats swarmed on me, over me, and under me, my horse, a big Appaloosa gelding who looks like it snowed all over him, was having an even more exuberant, more vocal stroke than usual about the urgency of getting his breakfast RIGHT NOW. As I filled containers with food, I called over my shoulder, “Yeah, yeah. Hold your horses, I’m working on it.” And then it hit me, what I’d just said. “Wait a minute, you are a horse. Disregard,” I told him. This is what happens when you turn me loose without turning my brain on with coffee first. I’m not sure, but I may be the only person who has ever told a horse to hold his horses. On top of that, I think the local birds are trying to bankrupt me. Does cold weather make them eat more or something? I saw a cardinal out there that looked like a red, feathered sumo wrestler.