Cleaning stalls

Dear Dan,

The summer we spent at Flynn's working in the bard while they were away was one pretty cool summer for me. You were driving on a complete license - not a Cinderella - and mom was spending time in NJ.

In the morning we would decide if I would go along with you to the farm or stay home. My choice. In the evening the same was true if you were going to Stern's farm for a swim.

That was the summer of the Eastwood Farms "ghost" - poor ghost, I can't remember his name now. It started as a piece of mail sent to the farm for a name that no one knew. Somehow that turned into a ghost. Then the tricks began.

One day Dave dressed in a goofy shower cap and a long rain slicker to scare someone stacking hay. We could hear the screams all over the farm.

Then one day you decided to scare me while I was mucking stalls and grooming the aisle. I had finished raking the aisle and hooked up the hose to water it down. I couldn't hear you sneaking up behind me until you got almost to me. I didn't let on I knew you were there. You grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. I still had the trigger of the sprinkler pulled.

As you walked out soaking wet from the the barn to your partners in crime, you told them "I forgot she had a hose in her hand." You laughed so hard about that.

You had such a good sense of humor when it came to laughing at yourself.

Almost smoked

Dear Dan,

I've been thinking about our summer at Flynn's farm. I've especially been thinking about a span of a couple of weeks during that summer.

Mom was back and forth to Media while Dad was working in that area. You and I occasionally went with her. The rest of the time we spent home and at the farm.

Jane and Dave went to a show one week. You and I were two who stayed behind to take care of the horses both there and at the neighbor's.

The day they were coming home we went down to feed the neighbor's horses for the last time. As we were pulling apart bales of hay I saw smoke coming from one and said something to you. At first we thought it might just be dust. As I pulled another bale apart I realized those bales were HOT! You came over and felt it. It was at that point we realized that the hay was baled wet and we had the possibility of spontaneous combustion on our hands.

Having seen that happen once before, neither of us had a great desire to see it again any time soon. We dashed around, grabbing bales, sticking our hands between the flakes and ripping apart the bales that were hot. We also ripped apart the hot flakes. Tthen we went around the stalls and took the flakes away from the horses. We didn't want any colicky horses on our hands!

The Flynns and their neighbors came home not long afterwards. The neighbors came up to bitch us out for making a mess of the barn. You told them what happened and said "If the barn had caught fire I would not have run back in to get the horses." That echoed exactly how I felt because I am deathly afraid of fire. Mr. Neighborman realized his error and thanked you.