Thursday, September 8, 2011

No Real Point.

Let see. Do I go on about Vermont? Mention the piles of silt that have created beach-front properties in a land-locked state or the challenges of putting up a bannister, or do I wax poetic about holes in the roads; how you really can't get there from here? How about being able to catch up with at least some friends? It was nice.

Or I can write about writing or my jones for riding? I am such a whimp when it comes to trotting down the road in the rain. How about Gil's adventure with hives? It's very dramatic when a large animal throws himself down to itch frantically. It required quite a few injectables to get it under control. Then, because he rolls over so well (quite a feat for an equine) he kept getting stuck. Again dramatic and LOUD!

How about our fly infestation? Not fun when you have a touch screen computer. Who knew that a fly can open and close programs and move all the icons on your desktop?

Then there is the kitten, who now insists that he needs some of my breakfast toast, well, really he just wants some of whatever I have...but he's really cute about it. I took him to the barn office the other day. I put him in his little travelling bag, got in the truck, Putter jumped in and away we went. He was out and about before we were out of the driveway. He sat on my lap happily. Guess he told me.

And now there is water. Lots of water. The sump pump is going 24/7. And for that, I am extremely grateful. The last time there was half this much ground water, combined with a power outage, the basement filled with a foot of water. I can still see my oldest cat floating around on top of a trunk, yowling. The pump is now tied properly into the generator. And the basement is damp, but has not turned into an indoor wading pool. No floating kitties (or bouyant litter boxes-ick).

So today, when the rain abated for a time and, gasp, the sun came out. I tacked up my freshly bathed horse and headed out. The road was the only option. Down and back, with Tucker watching the rivers that ran down the edges. (I did convince him to trot through one- future eventer!) Even though he hadn't been exercised for almost a week, he was beautifully behaved. We came to a long incline, I gave him his head- permission to go as fast as he pleased. Keep in mind, he had won a race back in the day. He cantered. Then went a little faster. I was so happy to be out, exhilirated with the prospect of an adrenaline pumping gallop, anticipating the release of all his pent up energy. I leaned forward, anticipating a burst of blazing...oh...okay, you want to trot.

He did win a race back in the day.

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