This is it. The season between spring and summer. Everything is green and bright. There are no more visible snow patches left. I let the horses out of the back of the enclosure, and they go directly for the grass rather than to the front area where I lay out the hay. This is the best time of year. I wish I could stop time and keep all that is, this way.

It is cold, overcast, and rainy. However, there is the likelihood that we might have a turn in the weather and it will be sunny for a while. This would be a good thing on the hay front. We don’t have a surplus to get us through the upcoming year. We were lucky to get 30 plus bales a month ago; although this hay cost $22.00 a bale. I would not have flinched if my Uncle Bob had left me $100,000 as he did my sister. The $10,000 is enabling us to pay for what we have.

Pete working on hay shed

It was not the day that I expected it to be. I anticipated staying home and getting the horses out and cleaning the house. As it turned out, I ended up going to town because Robert needed compost for his garden. We also needed liability forms for the book move tomorrow, and I was going to find a template on the computer and forward it to him. I don’t know how to use our printer. Grr, grr, grr.

Well, as we were attempting to locate the waiver form, I recalled that I had copies left over from last year, when I was training volunteers. So now we are covered. Phew.

Robert left to take care of his garden, leaving me with a lot of packing to do. I had said that I could not do much more. Today felt like the seventeen mile point of a marathon. Oh my goodness. I did do what had to be done.

I started out packing the remaining books into boxes upstairs. I stayed upstairs because otherwise, going downstairs takes time. I got near everything, no I got all the hardback and paperback fiction and children’s books except a few bins into the front area. I discarded some textbooks, just a few. I could not discard many because these books are history. For instance, someone, somewhere might be interested, say, in how genetics was taught in the 1970s. So yeah, I am preserving history.

Then I went downstairs and packed the nonfiction books. This included the Christmas books that I’d stashed into the lower cupboards.

I did not get any of the nonfiction categorized. I figured that this would be easier to do in a larger space, one in which there are designated areas for boxes of books.

The fact that we (meaning me) had outgrown the downstairs area made itself readily apparent to me. This did happen quickly.

I am told we’ll have enough space for books at the new place. We’ll see.

Next: 151. 6/2/23: A Dream Dashed