Take Serious Things Seriously

Well, it was nice while it lasted, but it ended at 7:20 p.m. tonight. I wish I knew what switch suddenly got turned off, and it would be wonderful if I could just reach over and click it back on. A good night's sleep may make some difference, but I doubt it. So it was, what, six days? A nice six days - could have been a lot less.

I did feel like an abusive parent this evening. I have been separating the horses at feeding time because the mare will stand aside and let the colt eat most of her share (why I still call that soon-to-be six year old spoiled gelding a colt is beyond me). The colt (who cares, it's kinda like your youngest is your baby no matter how long they get) gets put in the corral, and the mare left in the pasture... where she has access to water.

And Friday night is becoming an pattern - Bill and I go to our little food joint in our small rural community, and I bus tables and help the cook out during the dinner 'rush.' It's fun, we joke around, and Bill gets a free piece of pie.

However, tonight, I FORGOT about the colt. It wasn't days, he wasn't dying of thirst, but I sure as heck felt like a horrible mother. Sort of like finding out your baby has been in a messy diaper for six hours (although I don't think I'm going to go out and put Desitin on my horse's butt).

And somebody just wandered out of their room (yes, in their garments, and to get something to eat), and sort of put it all together: "I can't leave the terrorist stuff alone; I feel like I am losing the edge that keeps me good at my job." He's been off work all week, even let his assistant handle a last-minute (albeit important) meeting - I think he is suddenly feeling very insecure that his office HAS survived a week withOUT him.

Hmmmm.