Weird new year

I glared at Seth when he asked me if I had any plans for New Year's Day.

More than anyone, he knows that my plans for pretty much everything died with Olive on Sunday morning. Aside from my work schedule, my current life is completely, utterly plan-free.

He ignored my look and continued on, undeterred. "I think we should go to the barn," he said.  "I want to finish working on Olive's stall."

I was incredulous. "You know she doesn't need it anymore, right?"

"Come on," he coaxed. "Let's do it."

So, today, we loaded up the van and went to the barn.

Olive's stall is part of an older, casually maintained barn with dirt floors under the stall mats. Nothing is fitted precisely, and the corner of one mat is always sticking up, right in the middle of the stall. It never seemed to bother Olive, but I can not tell you how many times I've tripped over it.

In December, Seth and I started pulling up the mats and leveling the floor. Since he's working full time in an office again, most of this work has been done at night. 

Although Olive usually enjoyed "supervising" people while they worked on her space, she wasn't a big fan of night repairs.

Well, that doesn't matter anymore. Today, we pulled up all the mats...

and completely removed them from the stall.

What we found underneath them was so gross.

Be glad you can't smell it.

The whole time we working on it, people stopped by and offered their condolences. Stories were shared, tears were shed and hugs were given. It was a weird way to start the new year, but also, a good way. 

We worked for several hours - Seth more than me - but didn't finish the job. That's okay. For the time being, Olive's stall is empty. We left the tools in a corner, and the mats in the run. We'll be back, sooner rather than later.