so we can schedule a time for future work. So I am also faltering in this respect.
I had hopes of working with returning riders, and in this way combining both my riding and riding-related interests. This was a lot of work. I pushed open some very heavy doors but can’t push open any more. I also have torn the muscles in my left shoulder, so the metaphor is working both ways.
Do I sound discouraged? I am working hard to keep my nose above water. And working hard is – work. I go under, and this is a distinct possibility, and it will be all over. Right now, if there were icebergs in the Matanuska River, I’d dive off one. However, all that is there now is very fast silty water. I guess doing a bank dive is a second option.
I need for someone, somewhere, to push a door open for me because I am tired of single-handedly pushing them open myself. The same holds true for my writing career. But I am used to the disappointments that go hand-in-hand with this.
I’d continue on with this dispatch and look at the bright side of life, but right now all I see is darkness. This is ironic, considering that we still have plenty of daylight here at this time of year – enough to ride well into the evening.
Tomorrow, Pete and I will sleep in because last night we stayed up late, sitting with others around a non-existent campfire. It was a lot of fun – listening to everyone tell stories. And today was a long day – Raudi began whinnying at daybreak – she is so in season. She so badly wants to have a baby. I wish that I could honor her request, but we don’t have the money or space that one needs in order to raise a foal. And having five horses again – the thought boggles the mind.
The drive back from Fairbanks was also uncharacteristically long. I purchased a horse training book at the silent auction that I had high hopes for. It turned out to be a terrible book. The focus is on the use of pressure/release in a “nice” way. It’s a watered down version of what the big time clinicians are doing.
I have now twice fallen asleep at the computer. Time to call it a day. Day.
Next: 209. 8/1/17: Same Old Same Old