Tonight's photo. Taken in my happy place. Today's post, written earlier this evening, then cut and pasted here. It's all still true.
I’m typing this from the covered arena at the barn. Trying to anyway. This little keyboard ain’t easy. I really debated coming up here tonight. But it’s cold in Alameda and warm here. Plus, I knew it would be difficult to get Phoebe out over the weekend, when this arena is in high demand. Finally, and not the least of it, I really just wanted some quiet alone time. Mr. Jones is turned out in the lower paddock by the creek. I have high hopes that he’ll avoid the hemlock, but I won’t leave him out for long. I’d move him to the outdoor arena, but someone’s having a lesson there. Not alone! I miss my cold winter nights. Okay, not really. But I do, miss having the place to myself.
I thought about calling a friend or two but I’m sick, and I don’t want to give anyone else my cold. So I went home, changed in a flash, grabbed the dog, and left. No traffic! I suppose everyone left last night or earlier today. Anyway, I’m glad I came. The dog is glad; now that we’re here. He wasn't too thrilled about being ushered to the car. There’s always a price to pay. Though I’m working hard to figure out how to minimize those in my life. More pleasure, less pain. It’s a worthy goal. To me anyway. And it being my life, I hereby declare its worth.
I have no deep thoughts. Maybe those will come later. I’m in dire need of this three-day weekend. No obligations, only pleasure. That that pleasure might include spending a few hours cleaning the kids’ room doesn’t really bother me. I’m looking forward to throwing away all of the things they don’t use anymore. Tons of broken toys and missing pieces. They can’t find the things they still do play with. I know they’ll be pleased. They take a stab at cleaning now and then, and are good about throwing things away, but after awhile, the accumulation from birthday, Christmas and other present-giving occasions piles up. Thank goodness they’re not pack-rats. Not on purpose at least. Makes it easy to get rid of stuff without putting up with too much complaining.
Now, if I can get out of here without having to wade through poison oak to drag Mr. No Fence Can Hold Me out of the creek, I’ll be completely content.