09/05/2026
Today the flies were HORRIBLE! It is so disheartening to me. I spend a fortune on fly predators, fly spray, fly traps and a feed thru fly control. Some days we have barely any flies but then there are days like today. Not only do they drive the horses crazy but us too. It can make being around the horses dangerous when they are being driven crazy by the flies. All day long I have pondered why God would have created flies. I can’t take all the credit for this poem but here goes:
The Lord looked down on paradise, complete in every way,
With rolling hills and noble steeds that munched upon their hay.
He made the dog, the barn owl, the gentle morning breeze,
Then paused and scratched His heavenly chin: “They look too much at ease.”
“The horses need some cardio, the humans need some grit,
A test of pure endurance while they shovel out the $hit.”
And so with one swift flick of wrist, He forged the housefly clan,
To test the faith and sanity of barn-maintaining man.
Today they brought their cousins, their aunties, and their peers,
To orchestrate a symphony inside my horse’s ears.
They mocked the spinning fan blades, they laughed at every tail,
While I stood by bewildered with an empty supplement pail.
For every morning without fail, the horses get a scoop
Of fancy feed-through fly control to sanitize the p**p.
It promises to break the cycle, halt them in the muck,
Yet here they come in squadrons, completely out of luck.
Beneath the fence I scattered bags of tiny allies, too—
The mini fly predators that eat them before they brew.
I paid good cash for wasps so small they barely can be seen,
Who swore to wage a stealthy war behind the stable screen.
Along the rafters hanging low, the yellow jars reside,
Those rank, fermenting fly trap bags where millions go and died.
A swamp of doom that reeks so foul it makes a grown man cry,
Yet for every dozen trapped within, a hundred buzz on by!
Three lines of high-tech warfare, a budget blown to bits,
Against a tiny, brainless bug that’s driving me to fits.
Perhaps the Lord just giggled as He set the swarm in motion,
To show that even barn managers can't master earth and ocean.
So take a breath, adjust the spray, and swing the trusty bat—
God made the fly for humble pie, and brother, this is that.
Come Ride With Us!
Cindy 🐴