Last night, at writing grout (this is what I call it), this fellow named Rocky arrived late and after, twice got up to answer his cell phone. From the minute he entered the bookstore, he was frazzled. Then, midway through the meeting, he said something that got my attention. (I’m the sort, who takes in what interests me; otherwise, I either write or doodle.) This was that Type-A people tend to get what they need to get done what they need to get done, early. Then they are usually late because they fill in the space before, say, a scheduled appointment, with other things.
Ryder is Type-B+
I’m not Type-A – I’m too lazy. I’m Type B +. Rocky’s very astute statement (which was most likely something he heard on television) gave me reason to pause since I tend to at least have this Type-A characteristic. A good example – yesterday afternoon I went with Pete to town in order to pick up Sputnik. It had not started the night before, so I got a ride home with Vickie. We went back to see if it would start – it did. If it had not, Pete would have towed it home and I would have stayed in town -- I had writer’s group later that day. Instead, I drove Sputnik home. I had an hour before I had to return to town, so I spent that hour working on a dispatch. And for this reason, I was nearly late for grout. I would have kicked back and had a cup of tea if I was a Type-B person. And I would have written the great American novel if I was Type-A. I wrote a decent dispatch, making me Type-B+.
It was a rather mellow, Type-B+ day around here. Josh arrived at 10:30 a.m. and shod the horses. He, Pete, and I then worked in a rather nice, and now time-honored fashion. Pete held the horses, Josh, removed shoes, trimmed feet, and then put the shoes back on Raudi and Tinni. And he trimmed Hrimmi. In the meantime, I groomed all three horses, which have now begun shedding their winter coats.
As we all worked, I realized that my grooming the horses is an important activity in that it relaxes them. It could be argued that Tinni and Raudi are used to the goings on, and Hrimmi, now somewhat limitedly. But think about it – horse shoeing has to be an alien thing to a horse. For example, there is that business of hot shoeing. Josh heats up the shoe in a noisy, propane fueled oven, and then he sets the red hot shoe on their hoof. There is then considerable smoke, and also the smell of burning hoof. None of our horses seem to mind this – but I’m sure that others do. Josh also removes shoes, trims the hoof, and then nails the shoe back on. There is considerable banging going on when he does this. Our horses don’t seem to mind any of this. Just in case, I have the hay bucket handy – this activates their sympathetic nervous system – in other words, food is a calming mechanism.
More and more, I’m using treats with the horses. And whoa unto anyone who ever questions me about this.
I took Tinni, Ryder, and Rainbow for a woods outing after Josh left. By then it was snowing – I wasn’t real keen on getting out – just a few degrees warmer and the snow would have turned to rain – but I did this because the animals do need to get out. After, Pete and I took Raudi and Hrimmi for a walk down Murphy Road. We would have gone for a woods walk but we both agreed that right now the trail is a bit slippery for shoeless Hrimmi.
We had a good time on the walk – I kept a loose lead on Raudi most of the way, and once we got back on Oceanview Drive, I let her go off lead. I repeatedly called her to me and gave her treats. There was a moment of indecision, one in which she could have headed back up the driveway and to the hay she left behind at the hitching post – or she could have come to me. She opted for the latter.
Now it’s evening, and I’m writing the draft of today’s dispatch in my notebook. I’m sprawled on the bed, my notebook is on my raised knee, and my pen is in hand. And my faithful border collie is curled in a ball next to me. She’s Type-B+ too – she’s either resting, which is its own form of hard work, or running around doing something that she deems tremendously important. This is what Type-B+’s do.
I’d like to be Type-A because then I’d get more work done. But being Type-B+ is going to have to suffice. I now burn the candle at both ends. If I was Type-A, I’d also burn the candle in the middle. I’d see the light, but only for a short while.
Next: 59. 3/1/15: Keeping Agility in Perspective