I often think about going back to college long enough to get the class or two necessary for me to have my minor in French.  Unfortunately, it's been.. oh, five years since I graduated or studied the language, so I'm pretty sure I'd flunk out.

I was thinking about names because the volunteer coordinator at the Humane Society insists on butchering my name.  This is a life-long plight, but I can't remember a time that my little name has been in print so often and so.. fucked up.  Y'all call me Beka, which I like, but I use Rebekah with the rest of the world.  And this is what I get:

Also?  I think the hubs was demoted.

Don't get me wrong:  I sincerely appreciate being recognized.  And I work hard for them, for the adoptable kids.  Just last night, I photographed ten cats after putting in the hours at my regular job.  Then, after working out, grocery shopping, checking on the Kid and prepping today's crock pot dinner, I spent more time selecting and processing (like, resizing and editing out eye boogers) the photos before I emailed them to the HS.  And I'll do it again on Sunday, but with probably two and half times as many pets.  So, please, get my name right.

This probably wouldn't suck so badly, but my little laptop is ancient. (D bought it in 2009 for $250 from a doctor who dropped it.)

And dinner for tonight!  Lentil and quinoa chili.

/rant.

If it wasn't obvious in yesterday's PAD (what?  you're not skipping over those?!), the Archer threw a shoe in the hella storm that struck the Southeast Wednesday night.  I have to wonder if BO locked them out of their stalls for the night.  Only reasonable, right?

BO left me a message yesterday morning about it and telling me that she had already contacted the farrier about it, but that I should probably follow up.  Of course this happens right before the chiro visit.  I want to not care what the chiro thinks, but I'm poorly susceptible to the opinion of an equine professional.  So, though I hate to do it, I'm going to call the farrier and see if I can light a fire under his butt.  I feel very... weird about my farrier ever since my horse kicked him in the nads.

Archie has been on SmartHoof since June, 2012.  I'm hoping that soon all that biotin-fed foot growth will start kicking in and he'll stop tossing these soda cans on his feet.  His last thrown shoe was in August and it took about two weeks to get the damn thing back on because of a death in the farrier's family.  Here's hoping no one else has died.

So, I fed the ponies this morning.  Pictorial proof:

Fat guy in a little coat.

Left front, yay!  FTS, let's go barefoot.

Skinny Guy walks around the barn before every meal.