of gal – if there is such a thing. Somehow I will muddle through.
We had a writing group session in class – students (my idea) were to write a letter to a future classmate telling them about our class experiences. There were six of us in the class. We all shared our letters out loud. They were all quite good. I had to refrain from saying to them that in memoir writing you are getting at certain truths and this comes about in the act of revision. These students are good writers, but really, they’re just working at completing an assignment.
We got out early and came home and got horses out. We did Siggi’s Trail. I rode Tyra and Pete rode Raudi and ponied Hrimmi. A few days ago the ground was bare. Now it’s snow covered but fortunately not too deep. I think that the horses like getting out and also like the change in the seasons and the terrain. Sure beats having them go around in circles in an arena.
After, I rode Raudi and ponied Tinni. Both were fine with this. Then after that, I ran over to our Wilderness First Responder’s place, a distance of about three miles. Oh oh, I thought that my hip was better. It was not. It hurt, and I kept on going. Bad me. I guess I am never going to learn. This has happened before and it will happen again. I guess I’ll have to forego running until it is completely better and then resume running short distances. Bad me.
Good me. I again did a good job pen cleaning. So did Pete. So the horses are standing in snow and mud, minus manure. Too bad, the first sprigs of grass had just appeared and now they are gone. To them, this is life’s biggest unfairness.
Next: 109. 4/21/19: A Conversation with Tyra: Merry Easter