Fake

       Along with some of the stuff  around This Old House, I put Spring in my blog header yesterday - just in time for more snow.  I'm not complaining, though - as we've honestly had very little snow accumulation this winter. While I love the beauty of it, and it is indeed coming down in a gentle flurry as I gaze out my office window this moment,  I don't like the work it creates for me on the farm or my boys on the job sites. 

    My mini horses, Coady and Lacey, like living up at the big barn now that they've taken over Opie's stall.   In the photo below they were begging for peppermints - spoiled kids, they are! We all  still miss my favorite redhead, probably always will.   Opie was certainly the leader of the herd, and that's more evident now than ever.  The other two Max's... our retired show horse and my friends horse seen in the pic below, still look out over the fields wondering when he'll come trotting over the hill.  They don't venture into the upper pasture without him - they walk up to the opening in the stone wall but they don't go through it - as if they're wary of what could be out there.  Or what's no longer out there to protect them.  Without his leadership they seem a little lost, a little adrift.  They don't particularly like each other, these two old men - and so more often than not, they stand  grazing or gazing, far apart in the field, where they used to tag alongside Opie wherever he went.  

   

    Coady and Lacey have each other, crying for the other if we separate them for even a few minutes.  Animals form relationships, they care about each other, they miss each other when one leaves - don't ever doubt it.

 Every so often,  our Max hears something on the wind he must think is a whinny from Opie, and he returns the call, over and over again until finally no answer brings Opie back and he gives up.  Breaks my heart.

   It does my soul good to give this old man the retirement he so deserves after many years as a faithful servant to several different showfolk.   I wish his buddy were here to enjoy that retirement with him.  We were supposed to grow old together, me and that redhead -  Wouldn't it be something to be reunited with those we loved and the animals that were also a part of our lives, when our time here  is up. I'll continue to hope. 

       So why the post title, FAKE?  let me 'splain.... I took a walk on the wild side and ordered the cowhide rug I've been coveting for many years.  Something about that look has always appealed to me but we didn't have quite the right spot for it or the appropriate decor and no one else up here in this house approved.  One other little detail... I couldn't get past the idea that I'd be walking on and looking at the actual hide of a cow - one who walked the earth and cherished his or her life as much as I did mine.  That's kinda silly and hypocritical thinking, since I've certainly owned leather shoes and jackets, gloves, and I eat meat.  Still - I couldn't do it, go figure. 

   Until... I saw these on Overstock for a decent price.  

 ( I love the abode depicted in this photo but it's not very cozy, is it. Seriously... who's gonna sit in that hard little chair and settle in with a good book or  watch a netflix original?  That chair right there reminds me of the little desk chairs in grade school that most of us couldn't wait to get out of) 

   Fake cow hide rugs! that actually look real... LOVE! 💗  They come in a few different hide patterns, this is the one I chose.   Now.. I don't have the magical touch some designers have where they can through a whole bunch of different elements and styles and vintage and new pieces into a room and it comes out looking fabulous. But.. what I do throw together at least I hope looks inviting, or warm, or interesting, or something along those lines.  

   It was delivered today in all this snow, and here's where I threw it.   The Wingback chairs were given to us by the previous occupant of  our home and have moved around the house periodically - not of their own steam, thankfully.  What do you think?   I'm still not sure it belongs, but who's writing the rules, anyway?