Notes from Maine - 2026/04/26

We had another busy week here in Maine. Mom went to Costco twice, once returning with a bunch of paper goods and the other time coming home with butter and plants. She caught a ride with my brother down there on Wednesday and a friend yesterday. I believe it would be far out of her comfort zone to go down there alone. It’s a long trip to a busier part of the state, although there’s nothing in Maine that’s as congested as where she lives in Virginia.

We’re having “seasonable” weather here. It feels like it wants to be spring, but something always gets in the way. The ground is still wet from overnight rain, or the clouds and wind add a bite that requires a hat and jacket. We’re not having pleasant days yet, but there’s usually at least one pleasant part of each day.

When I put the horses out this morning, they walked straight past the hay and just stood in the middle of the pasture, looking around. There’s not enough grass to support grazing, but just enough that it makes the hay unappetizing. Parts of the fence are now electrified—I’m working on getting the whole thing done. The older horses respect the new fence. Perhaps they still remember the “hot wire” that used to run along the top rail. 

But little Lilly was out there rubbing against one of the gates the other day. She was just a baby when the fence was replaced last year and doesn’t remember the peril of getting too close to the zap. I had to get out there and put up a new electric wire before she accidentally pushed the new fence over. She’s getting pretty big.

I’m using little plastic insulators to pull “electric rope” around the fence perimeter. The last fence was wood, so it supported aluminum-alloy fence wire, pulled tight. I still have to find decent offsets to use around the gates. I don’t want the wire to short out through the massive poles that the gates are hung from. Horses will remember a good zap for a while, but they’ll also come back and test boundaries every so often. I’ve been skating by without a powered fence. I need to get it fixed up before my luck runs out. 

The other day, when we were mounting the little fence insulators, the horses came over to offer help. In reality, they came over to see if Mom had any carrots. She’s the Carrot Lady. When they came up behind her, Albert (dog) charged off the deck, barking ferociously until they scattered. He never tries to protect me in that way. I don’t like to anthropomorphize behavior, but I think he was afraid that the Carrot Lady would get mobbed when she wasn’t looking. He doesn’t bark at the horses normally—they’re a part of his regular day. Sometimes Lilly will chase him when he’s grabbing his frisbee, and he always keeps a wary eye on them when he’s out in the pasture, but Albert doesn’t typically bark at them. 

I take that back—when Maybelle climbs up on the rock step to poke her head into the laundry room for a treat, Albert will bark at her. Inside the house is his domain—no horses allowed.

During an evening movie, before the horses had been put to bed, we heard a knock at the laundry room door. It took a second to figure out. I looked at Mom and said, “I think your friends are looking for you.” She got carrots and went to the laundry room. Sure enough, there were three horses waiting for her there. One of them (probably Maybelle) has figured out how to Trick-or-Treat for carrots. 

They’re going to miss the Carrot Lady when she goes back home next month. They always do. When I open a door to go outside, they’ll look up with hopeful eyes and then see it’s just me. I’m always doing chores outside that require the help of zero horses, so I don’t usually take carrots with me. When I’m taking used shavings out to the pit, I lure them away from the gate with a new bale of hay. Now that they’re turning their noses up to that, I’m going to have to find a different strategy. It’s tough this time of year when they’re transitioning to grazing instead of hay. 

It will be a fast transition though. It always is. Spring takes forever to arrive here and then whips right by. One day the pasture is just beginning to get green and the next thing I know all the trees are shooting out leaves at an alarming rate. It’s like a magic trick. This year, maybe I’ll see it happen and learn the secret.