experience boredom. Right now, because it’s raining and snowing both, and I’m not inclined to want to go out and ride, they’re extremely bored. It would be different, I suppose if they lived in a large, grassy pasture, and had room to move around. But they are in a small enclosure, doing very little.
Boredom and waiting are two differing entities. You can get bored waiting. However, animals aren’t expectant, meaning, hoping to do something. They are as they are, and so be it. Humans though, are expectant.
I’m now waiting on a number of things. It’s been snowing and raining now for a couple of hours. It was some time raining more than snowing; now it’s snowing more than raining. I’m waiting for precipitation to stop so that I can go riding. Well, I could go riding any time but I don’t want to ride in inclement conditions like these. I might take them for a walk, since this would be warmer than just sitting there.
I’m also waiting for Pete to get home. Last I heard, he was in Houston, BC, the place known as the Steelhead Capital of the world, and home of the world’s largest fly rod. (This got me to wondering – could they build an even larger fly rode in Houston, Alaska, and advertise IT as the world’s largest fly rod? Then the one in Houston, BC would then become the world’s second largest fly rod.)
I’m also waiting on Skjoni’s arrival. The Icelandic horse has been purchased by friends who live locally – they decided to have him shipped up here from Washington State. I’m eager to see him.
I’m also waiting on hearing back from the University of Alaska Press about my book proposal on the subject of composting.
I’m also waiting on making another dehydration run. I’ve been heading over to Keith’s every twelve hours or so, and unloading and reloading the trays.
That’s really about it. If you think about it, we’re always waiting on something. The whole premise behind technological advances is that they’re to reduce wait time. Everything is becoming faster, gas pumps, airplane flights, phone dialing times included. But what do we do with all the time we save.
I recently read in a book on the human brain that three quarters of our time is spent anticipating things, and one quarter of our time is spent dealing with that with which we’ve been anticipating – and that even itself is often anti-climactic. This is a rather disturbing thought because if true, it means that we are not fully living for the moment.
I would like to spend more of my time living for the moment. But I suspect that this isn’t going to happen. I’m going to continue to live an illusion-related life. Fact of the matter is Pete is not here and I miss him very much and his return won’t be anti-climactic at all.
Next: 138: 5/18/13: Where to Begin?