Actually, I would enjoy being in the woods about now. On the base of Siggi’s Trail, there is a section in which there are some younger birch trees, all of which are located close together. There aren’t any other types of trees in this grove – just birch. There is another worldly feeling about this area, which at most is a quarter of an acre. I always talk to the woods when I’m in this section.

I was thinking about heading up there on horseback, since it was such a beautiful day. When I got home, Pete had already saddled Tyra and was ready to go. I had to bow out because, as I’d told him, my hip had seized up again. I added that this happened as I was distributing books on Bill’s route.

Pete was empathetic, of course. He went for a ride, and I hunched over like an old crone, made my way inside. I took two Ibuprofen. I sat down, ate some lentil soup that I inadvertently mixed in with tomato sauce (yeech) and listened to the vice-presidential debates.

This was simply two men talking fast so that listeners would not notice that their responses were overly simplistic. I am looking forward to women commentator’s viewpoints about what each had to say about Vance’s pro-life and Walz’s pro-choice stances.

I tired of the debate and went outside to clean the horse pen. Pete returned and went inside to make dinner. A fair trade, I’d say. As usual, being around the animals continued to bring me great joy. I allowed the goats to hang out with the horses – I let them out of their pen twice a day.

I talked with Pete during and after dinner about my day, and about my dilemma – my onerous workload, which is so physically and mentally taxing. It was just a routine Thursday – moving at the speed of light, going from the Palmer Senior Center to the Palmer Lions Club meeting to the hotel – trying to be upbeat – my hip bugging me some. I also had a headache and toothache.

Nothing can be done about my current situation, which is untenable. I have held my own up until now, and done a good job, but I fear that if spread too thin, I won’t get done that which needs to get done.

I must go in and make an appointment with my physical therapist referral. I can’t seem to connect by phone.

I am most bothered by the fact that I am no longer riding every day, nor am I doing any kind of animal agility. How did this come to be? What can I do about this?

I have this odd feeling, when I write these dispatches, that they are being read by the local recycling center staff, who inwardly cheer when I write about days like this. They in no way want me to succeed – and in the past they put up obstacles that I ended up walking around.

I was glum a while ago, but Pete did cheer me up with his attitude, which is that we shall continue to make administrative inroads. And in time, we’ll have a full-time staff and suitable worksite. I believe this because I believe that change is a constant.

NExt: 269. 10/3/24: It’s Already. . .