The Crone of Cottonmouth County

Author's details

Date registered: September 6, 2012

Latest posts

  1. Retirement, Day 4: Crone visits hay barn with camera — October 16, 2015
  2. Lady of leisure — October 14, 2015
  3. Cattle bum me out — May 9, 2014
  4. Infestation du jour — April 18, 2014
  5. Pus-colored entities — April 17, 2014

Most commented posts

  1. Spinster aunt morphs into crone — 57 comments
  2. Blogging all my nowhere posts to nobody — 51 comments
  3. Crone holds forth on the horrors of re-riderdom — 38 comments
  4. Crone predicts own existential funk — 35 comments
  5. Crone flummoxed by feral cat — 31 comments

Author's posts listings

Nov 13

Crone holds forth on the horrors of re-riderdom

Having made the acquaintance of some re-riders,* I hypothesize that all of us are scared shitless. I took 35 years off after the usual fearless horsey childhood. Big mistake! If you don’t use it, you lose it. I can’t pinpoint with any accuracy the precise moment at which I devolved into a spineless greenhorn tenderfoot, …

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Nov 11

CroneTalk with Clem and Lester

Clem: Hey, have you seen the Crone anywhere? Lester: She’s not pulling a deer out of the dog’s throat? Clem: Not since this morning. Lester: Is she battling an incursion of vibrating daddy longlegs over at the loafing shed? Clem: If so, the spiders won, because she’s not there now. Lester: Daddy longlegs aren’t spiders. …

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Nov 10

Ginger Rogers’ massive swelling baffles science

Behold Ginger Rogers’ awesome pair of pus-bags. Well, technically they’re not pus-bags. The vet says “generalized cellulitis.” Well, what does she know? ‘Pus-bags’ is more poetic, and therefore more accurate. In any event, the facts are these: poor Ginger Rogers is afflicted with a hideous oozing inflammation, as well as with 15 or 20 hard, …

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Nov 10

Crone complains about horse dudes

Ginger Rogers is off to the vet this morning. I want the doc to have a look at her belly-bomb. It is now the size of Guam and is leaking fluid in torrents. Trailering horses is a nightmare. I just don’t do it often enough to get good at it. I am a lone crone, …

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Nov 08

Crone stares daily at unusable barn

If you seek relief from the spectre of my horse’s threadworm-infested belly button, here is the new barn. It was supposed to have been finished by winter, but as you can see it’s still in its underwear. I think I’m gonna paint it the color of the underside of a live oak leaf. It will …

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Nov 07

Ginger Rogers afflicted

Well, it’s official. Ginger Rogers has onchocerciasis. That’s right. Parasitic worms living in the connective tissue in her neck — and may I say holy shit — have migrated to her umbilicus and are causing a crusty, weepy edema about the size of a grapefruit. Shoot me now. ___________ Photo: Ginger Rogers’ swollen belly button …

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Nov 06

Crone shakes fist at sky

Last Sunday I was, like any decent eccentric recluse, minding my own beeswax. My horse Ginger Rogers needed a beauty treatment, so, lost in the simple thoughts of a simple bumpkin, I was hosing her down in the Equine Spa. Someday we’ll have a real indoor wash rack with hot and cold running water, a …

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Nov 05

The decline of Western civilization

I was cautioned, when embarking on this feckless-crone-in-the-countryside blog project, to prevent it at all costs from devolving into cat blogging. How well I understand that worthy sentiment! Now that we’re all sophisticated internet users, cat blogging has justifiably become the symbol of Internetian culture’s wanton degradation. Cat bloggers waste valuable energy uncynically cat blogging …

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Nov 04

Why horses suck: Reason #174

This is my fat hunter, Ginger Rogers. Before coming to Dreadful Acres, Ginger Rogers lived in boarding barns her whole life. She was incarcerated with no turnout and got fed according to the industry standard, two times a day. This funky situation, combined with her natural alpha-mare charm, encouraged her to develop food aggression. This …

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Nov 02

Of fences and anxiety attacks

Dreadful Acres has a handy 20-acre hay field. Of course this field has lain fallow for decades, and since I haven’t the faintest idea how to grow hay, it will probably lie fallow for decades more. “Lie fallow” is not a phrase I ever had occasion to use before I moved out here. Anyway, some …

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