Quite obviously, I didn’t start the New Year on an upbeat note. In fact, I started it on a downbeat note. As yesterday progressed, I first considered abandoning it, and then later considered writing two more. It would then be a dispatch triptych. But I dimissed this idea because then some might think that I was tri-polar and suggest I go and see a psychiatrist, and get on the proper medications. (Three, of course). Gad Zukes, I don’t even take drugs for colds.
So yesterday’s dispatch was just a blip in a day a reflection of how I felt at that particular moment in time. Yes, I am bummed about having to substitute teach, but it’s not the end of the world. In
fact, the end of the world does not seem imminent. That is, according to my calendar. The only thing the Mayans have on me is that they built better pyramids. But give me time, money, rock, and a crew of hundred and I might do a comparable job.
If I had written dispatches two and three, I would have relied upon self-example in denoting the importance of animals in our lives. In this respect, yesterday was most telling. I didn’t stay inside and mope, as I’d liked to have done. I instead forced myself to go outside and interacted with the critters. This was because I am duty-bound to tend to them. The horses and goats all live in small enclosures, which makes for considerable work on my part. I’m their personal trainer, recreation director, and intermediary go-between. If they have issues with one another, I have to figure out what these are, and rectify the situation. Otherwise, we end up with veterinary bills.
I first went with Pete, the dogs, and Tinn for a walk. We began on the road, took to the trail, and came back on the road. The trail was punchy because of the snowmachine traffic and warm weather. So I walked Tinni on it, and then rode him back home. He totally enjoyed himself. I noticed that a light coating of snow on the road’s surface made for good traction, so he tolted nicely. If it’s slippery, he’ll shake his head, say no, and refuse to do anything but walk.
Next, Pete and I took Hrimfara and Siggi for a walk around the loop. Hrimmi did a few of her wondrous mad dashes. Like her dam, Signy, she’s a ground pounder. As Andrea Brodie once said about Signy, “where she walks, no grass grows.” The same is already true of Hrimfara. It’s not that the two aren’t light on their feet, rather it’s that they’re both strongly built and powerful.
Next, Pete and I took Raudi and Signy for a jaunt. Pete rode Raudi and I rode Signy. Raudi did quite well, collecting herself and remaining focused. She also remained calm when the snowmobilers went whizzing past.
Read the above and you might note that most sentences include two human subjects, that is Pete and I. Once again, this fellow, who claims he doesn’t have the horse gene, spent the better part of his day helping me with the horses. He didn’t have to. He had other things to do, like change the flat tire on Sputnik, and spin out the honey. But he chose to do this, making it all that much more appreciated by me.
I am indeed a very fortunate individual. Most horse-obsessed women are accepting of the fact that their husbands have no or little interest in communing with horses. Pete too, isn’t at all that horse obsessed. However, his love for me has sort of spilled over in the horses’ direction. How else to explain this? I am again at a loss for words.
My now good day continued. I cleaned the horse and goat pens. Then I worked some on my TTeam case study write ups. I’d put off revising them for some time—my thinking has been that they have to be really good because my audience is horse people that I respect. Undoubtedly, they will (as they should) be critical of my efforts. But I did this, and I’m nearly done.
Yep. It’s looking like it’s going to be a good year indeed.
Update: Today. Another good day with Pete, the horses, the dogs, and the goats.
The upcoming year (I decided, on a long walk with Rainbow) is going to include a Photoshop class and maybe another photography class. Once again, I’m wanting to work more on exploring the relationship between words and images.