I have never understood why the entire day before Christmas is called Christmas Eve. This makes no sense to me. Eve is short for evening. However, this misnomer is in common usage. And all who I mention this to have no insight into the matter. I am going on record and saying this is wrong, wrong, wrong.

The day began with my feeding the horses. Raudi chose to eat her hay near her bucket lid target. Usually she goes over and scarfs down the other mares hay. This morning she wasn’t wanting to go anywhere. I worried for a bit. I picked up the manure and then went back down to the enclosure and checked on her. She had eaten her hay and was on her way over to see if the mares had finished their portions.

Before the shelves

I was relieved. I do know that if a horse isn’t eating that something is very, very wrong. Raudi was eating so something (I thought) was wrong. This of course got me to thinking – I am spending too little time with the horses. The best years of all of our lives are passing quickly. The situation has to change.

I worked on the book for an hour, on the VCRS chapter, the one in which I ask for permission to start salvaging books. I ended up combining chapters, which seems to be working. I am not grinding an axe in writing about the early sorting effort. Rather, I am intimating that book related abundance issues in the beginning was stressful for all involved because no one quite knew what to do.

Time spent working on this book could have been spent getting a horse out.

I next went to the hotel and worked nonstop for the rest of day. Yesterday Pete went to Anchorage, to Title Wave, and brought back about 20 boxes of books. I sorted some last night, but I dealt with the majority of the boxes today. I separated fiction and nonfiction and put the remaining kids’ books on the kids’ books table. Pam showed up mid-afternoon and cleaned books.

Pete arrived shortly after Pam and then took off for Wasilla where he purchased wood for more shelves. I felt ambivalent about this – every time he does this, we become that much more committed to staying at the hotel. A move would be the same as before, but in reverse. First the boxes would head out the door, then the shelving would come down. If this is to be, I don’t want to be around for it.

Time spent sorting, cleaning, stamping, and categorizing could have been spent getting a horse out.

Pete eventually reappeared and for a while categorized nonfiction. We then went and distributed books. I lobbied for this, saying that the books don’t go anywhere when they are in the hotel.

Time spent distributing could have been spent getting a horse out.

I went straight to the pen from the truck when we got home. Pete had picked up the poop before leaving, so it wasn’t so bad.

Now my back is out again. Time spent lying on my back is time that could be spent getting a horse out.

Next: 352. 12/24/23: The Writing Life: Problem Solving Ahead