three cups later....

Bear in mind I am a bigtime city girl. I warned Sue of that, too.

The first thing I noticed when the barn door was opened was the smell. It isn't a bad smell, but it is strong. It smells like horse manure, mollases, and hops.

The barn was open on one end to allow the horses to come inside and feed. There were mice scurrying openly across the rafters and wood beams. A cat would have a field day in there.

The horses were annoyed that the ground around the barn was muddy. They trotted in from the pasture, and all four stopped at the edge of the mud and stared at it, like Sue could make it magically go away. After a while, Nori -- eight weeks away from dropping a foal, with a big, fat belly -- took the plunge and trotted across the mud to the promise of graaaaaains.

Kahlua is the herd leader, though Nori didn't seem to care. I'm hauling a foal in my stomach, she seemed to say. I eat first.

Kahlua followed and insisted on inspecting me. When I was nine, I learned the best way to introduce yourself to a strange animal is to hold your fist out to it, so that's what I did. He sniffed the fist, and then went for my hair. Horses sniffing my hair = AWESOME.

I did have a moment of completely irrational fear as the two horses walked into the barn and got close. Maybe because they'r so BIG. Maybe because the last time I saw a horse, it bit my hand. I really didn't expect to be afraid, though, and was surprised when I was.

Then I said to self, "Self, this is stupid. The horse just wants to see you." And after that, it was all good.

Kahlua got his own stall, and his own bucket of food. When Kahlua was safely away in his own private dining room, Mesquite and Fuego trotted in and looked to us for their own meals.

Fuego (as the name implies) is a roan. Mesquite had sort of a muleish look to him -- dark gray, spiky mane. Nori was dark gray, though Sue says she was born red-gray. Kahlua is creamy beige, and has Apaloosa in him. The other horses are Paso Fino, I think. I admittedly don't remember what all their breeds are, and apologize for the lack of knowledge.

Fuego and Mesquite are both young -- two years or so -- and shy. Though Mesquite was fairly amiable, Fuego is only just letting Sue touch him.

The horses were all shedding their winter coats, and I was amazed at how fuzzy they were, and how easy the fur came off. The barbed wire around the pasture had little tufts of their fur on it. Apparently one of the horses -- the oldest one, and I'm sorry I don't remember his name -- likes to roll around on the ground, and leaves a big patch of fur when he does. Heh heh heh.

Once Nori finished eating, I got to lead her around her stall a bit by a rope halter, using voice, intent, and gesture to get her to walk forward, back, and in circles. This was really neat. It's the sort of experience I'm not sure I would have gotten if I had just gone to a riding stable.

Meanwhile, Kahlua finished off his bucket, came around, and proceeded to try and eat Fuego and Mesquite's bucket of chow. Greedy guy, that herd leader.

After that we went out and fed the other, older horses. One of Sue's horses is 33. I had no idea they lived that long. I got to scoop up grains and toss hay at the horses. And I'm invited back anytime.

It was very good. I gotta figure out when I can visit next. It's quite a drive -- an hour from my place -- but it's worth it.

Horsies!