A Day In The Life of Big MacIntosh

On this particular day, the (as I call them) Flying Flirts were crowded round the cart. It's a group of about five Pegasus colts who seem infatuated with Applejack. Among them are Thunderlane, Star Hunter and Storm Breaker; all of which are well known players, to say the least. But despite their reputation for being players, they've been hung up on AJ for near three months now. I guess they can only "move on" if they actually get the mare. But judging from AJ's opinion of them, I doubt that will happen any time soon.

She doesn't have anything against Pegasi, I mean, Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy, hello? She doesn't even have anything against Pegasus colts. In fact, she's pretty good friends with Soarin Cloud, the Wonderbolt. She just doesn't like Thunderlane and Co. I can't say I'm disappointed.

The Flying Flirts made themselves relatively scarce once I arrived at the cart. Well, all save for Thunderlane. Of the Flirts, he is the most persistent, but also the most respectable as far as boundaries go. So, as far as the situation was concerned, I'm glad he was the persistent one.

"Hey, Sugarcube." he drawled at AJ feigning her - our - accent. Applejack fixed him with a look that I can only describe as you-talk-a-lot-of-smack-for-somepony-so-little.

...I watch a lot of movies.

Anyway, AJ fixed him with the look, before replying, "Hey, yourself, Sugarcube," and though I know I am her brother and I most certainly am not that kind of farmer, the only way to accurately portray her voice was with the word 'honey'. I came this close to serving Thunderlane a hoof-sandwich, because his wings, at the sound of her voice, decided to spring up like boards. He tried to fold them, but found that it was beyond his power, so instead he smiled, and asked,

"What time does your shift finish?" and all the credit in the word goes to my little sis, when she replied, still in that 'honey' voice...

"Don't matter to you. S'not like y'all're gonna join me." and I grinned inwardly. Outwardly, I fixed Thunderlane with my best I-could-kick-your-flank-with-three-hooves-behind-my-back look and he scurried off with the rest of the Flirts. That was all I would see of them for the rest of the day.

After about a four hours helping with the cart (we quit after lunch, since nopony buys apples just after eating) it was one 'o'clock, so me and Applejack headed back to the farm to do our chores. That can mean help make cider, applebuck, plough the fields, or, in today's case, fix what needs fixing; it really depends on the time of year. Me and AJ were finally getting round to tackling a stubborn gutter pipe, which, in it's current state, would cause a large puddle across the front porch, and, in winter, a miniature ice rink. At the thought of crazily skating and stumbling across the porch, memories of my puberty sprung to mind. Within ten months I near tripled in size, near enough, and it was a full eight months before I got the hang of my new size. I had the broken bones and windows to prove it.

So we got to work fairly quickly, slowly pushing the metal back in place, and then bolting it down.

"Ah think it's gonna need better bolts than these." Applejack remarked with a little difficulty. She was talking around the wrench in her mouth, and was examining the bolts as she twisted them into place. I, myself was holding the ladder in place with my forehooves, and had come to similar conclusions, so merely replied,

"Eeyup."

"Ah'll pick up some better ones tomorrow." she decided, "We got more work to do for now."

"Eeyup." I rarely needed to speak around Applejack. She understood me better than I understood myself, sometimes, being able to tell a whole situation simply from my body language and the look in my eyes. I liked this, because I didn't like talking on, and on, and on incessantly. I'm a firm believer that if you don't have anything of use to say, don't say anything at all. Internally, I was thinking Ah hope there ain't a storm tonight that blows it out of place again. But it didn't need to be said, so I didn't say it. I only said 'eeyup' and 'nnope' so she would know that I was actually listening to her, and hadn't just zoned out.

This habit came about when we were eight and eleven respectively. I was listening to her describe a...you know, I don't remember. I don't remember what she was describing, but I remember that she was enamoured by it, obsessed by it, and her eyes lit up in a way that I hadn't seen since before Ma and Pa died in that train crash. I, being a faithful older brother (I'd never really been the type for teasing, at least, not after Ma and Pa died), was listening intently, very intrigued myself, but because I failed to acknowledge it verbally, she got rather upset.

According to family members, in my pre-adolescent years I was a scrawny young colt whose mouth was always open, lest I have a fritter in it. I must admit that that was true. I would gibber on and on to AJ, Granny, Ma, Pa and anypony else who would listen for hours. I would talk about the farm, about my friends, about the strange dark shape on the ceiling of my room (I promise you, it looks like a pair of horseshoes, and I swear vampire ponies exist. Fluttershy was sort-of-turned-into-one last applebuck season. Once Apple Bloom came along I would gibber to her too, though I doubt she ever understood any of it. Once I had to become the stallion of the family, I had to grow out of that stuff pretty quick, but not as quick as AJ, so all things considered I'm not really in a position to complain. Either way, I don't talk much nowadays, but I still sleep with my mouth open. The snoring I can't help, but at least I don't drool any more, though. I have learnt not to dream about apples or apple-related products.

Then we set to work on fixing the barn's roof. This past year had been pretty kind, so there weren't nearly as many holes as there usually were. After an hour or so working on the roof, we needed to let the structure dry for a night before we could continue. So we headed over to the North acre.

The North acre is the, well, Northern-most acre on the farm. It doesn't hold apple trees, but normal trees, like the type you might find in Ponyville Park. We use them for firewood, chopping off the largest branches (that's Applejack's job - she's better with a lasso and she's lighter, so she can get higher up) before carrying them to the barn (my job, I'm stronger and better at loading wagons) and chopping them into decent sized pieces of firewood (we split that work). It may only be mid-June, but this is the only time of the year when we have the time to do this. Besides, the warm weather, fixing the leaking barn and the lack of rain in general means that the wood has plenty of time to dry out in the barn. Can't make a fire with damp wood.

Anyway, me and AJ headed up to the North acre, and quick as a flash she was up in a tree, lassoing one of the large, high branches and pulling it to the ground with a creeee-CRACK! and I hefted it on to the barrow I was gonna fasten to my yoke, and pull to the barn for chopping. It was a good three hours before we finally decided to quit for the day, and we had a large pile of firewood to show for it.

By the time all that was finished, it was coming on to six 'o'clock, and the sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon; Celestia and Luna had cast their magic over the celestial bodies, and they were slowly making their respective descents and ascents to and from the sky. This is usually the point where AJ makes herself scarce for a few hours with her friends. Often it's Rarity or Rainbow Dash, because she's known the two of them the longest. They're both nice mares, but Rainbow Dash comes across as somepony who acts too much, caring too much about other ponies' opinions; and Rarity is a bit bright and loud for me. But I'm always polite when I see one of AJ's friends, giving them a "howdy" when they pass and say, "Hey, Big Mac!" or, in Rarity's case "Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/Day, Big MacIntosh." she's the only pony who's never, ever, ever called me Big Mac.

This is also the time of day where Apple Bloom troupes in, after a hard (and often messy) day's crusading. On this particular day she was covered in tree sap.

"Hey, Big Mac." she smiled stickily. She seemed in high spirits despite the gunk covering her from head-to-hoof, and had made the wise decision to not actually enter the house, but stand on the front porch.

"Again?" Was all I replied, "Ah thought you an' your friends didn't get cutie marks for syrup-making."

"We didn't, this time it was amber-crystals." she explained. Amber was a crystal formed from solidified sap.

"Well let's get ya cleaned up before you turn into an Amber-Bloom." I said, giving her the hose and turning on the tap. She held it in her front hooves, directing it at her face, and squealed when a jet of cold water hit her squarely in the muzzle. She wriggled it comically and began trying to rinse herself down.

"Shout for me when you're done." I said, "You are not traipsing sap all over the house, y'hear?"

"Yes." she replied, with a hint of teenage-sass. She picked up a nearby sponge, and the Equestrian magic that allows ponies to pick up and manipulate things with their hooves was not needed, for it stuck fast to her yellow coat with all the orange sap on her body.

It would be a long and tricky job getting the sap out of her mane later, but for now, I could relax. My relaxation time is usually spent by myself. I'm plenty sociable, but with a family that has both Apple Bloom and AJ, a little quiet time means a lot.

There are two levels to our barn. There's the bottom one, filled with farming tools, cleaners for said tools and more hay than we'll ever really need, and there's also a second layer that forms a sort of living room. There's a few beanbags and small chairs and a sofa. In a cupboard at the back there's books, lots of books, sealed away from varmints that occasionally poke around and see if the barn can be lived in - it can't, not while I'm around - and a few barrels of Apple Family Cider underneath a small sink. Only, it's the alcoholic kind, that fizzes and puts a fire in your belly. We don't sell it to the public for safety reasons. Above the sink is another cupboard filled with cider mugs and washing stuff for cleaning them.

I poured myself a mug of the cider, picked up a Daring Doo book, began to read, and began to relax.

My relaxation was short lived.

I had only read eight chapters when I heard Applejack's voice hollering from the bottom of the barn. It seemed that she had returned - early today, I wonder why. However, it had been a full hour and a half. I'm not a particularly fast reader, and Daring Doo books are long.

AJ was polite enough never to come up without warning, as I liked my privacy, and more than once she had caught me in a...shall we say a compromising situation - make of that what you will. Nonetheless, I heaved myself from the beanbag, laid the book and half-empty cider-mug on one of the numerous small, low tables, and climbed down the ladder.

"AJ?" I asked, by way of both greeting and inquiry.

"Apple Bloom's back." she said, "Ah'm gonna go run a bath, but Ah need you to pick her up." it's not that Applejack couldn't pick up Apple Bloom, we both could. Easily. It was that it was harder for Apple Bloom to squirm when I picked her up, and there was no danger of her mane or tail touching the carpet and getting stuck to it.

It may seem strange that she was still sap-covered even though she had rinsed, but a hose only does so much.

She was standing, dripping wet and slightly-less-sap-covered than before, but still pretty covered. I picked her up by the tail and carried her upstairs. We had carpets upstairs, and there was no way in Equestria to get sap out of carpet. I dropped her in the bath and took out her hair bow. It's plenty easy to take out the bow, just pull of one of the ends and it comes free. It was beyond saving, so I just dumped it into the bin. As for her mane...well, a comb might not cut it. Last time we had to actually cut her mane.

But this time, the sap seemed a little less viscous, and went down the drain now that it was combined with shampoo and hot water, rather than just cold water. Also, the use of a brush rather than a sponge probably helped. Nonetheless, it took both me and Applejack scrubbing for a good half hour before she was finally clean. The bath itself was another matter entirely.

Oh yay. I thought grudgingly, Ah'm gonna be cleaning out the drain tomorrow.