Seeing as how it's the middle of January, so do you suppose if I leave my collection of Santa Clauses out a couple more weeks, they could pass as St. Valentine?
Well, OK. But it was worth a shot. ...
It's been a week where little has been accomplished, other than get out the door to work in the afternoon. (It's nice having the later start time, so I can squeeze my kids before I leave!) On the to-do list, in no particular order:
• Finish de-Christmasing. Frankly, I'm kinda glad we didn't have a tree this year. It would have put me over the edge.
• Learn to use my new camera (yay!) so I don't have to borrow Laurel's all the time.
• Clean the pony's tack. He has a lot of it, and it's nasty. Suffice it to say that a humid barn, sweaty leather and cold winter air generates a spectacular version of grunge. Visuals coming soon ...
• Cook. Anything at all! Without the use of a toaster, I mean.
• Win the lottery.
• Knit a couple inches on the Jo Sharp vest and/or the Rowan sweater. Please.
That said, I did get to the barn a couple days ago for a ride on my favorite trail pony. When I rode him last Saturday, we spent a few minutes using only a lasso around his neck, thanks to Barb T, who said "Trust me." (I rarely trust anyone who says that.) He picked up on the 'steering' very quickly, so we took his bridle off. And! He seemed happier -- his trot was noticeably lighter.
Gunnar is a conehead today, but other than that you'd never know anything happened to him. In addition to yesterday's Official Surgical Procedure, the vet found a baby tooth that was stuck (yes, at the other end, Smart *ss ) and they took that out, too. So he's a little tender coming and going.
All the dox at the clinic love him. Clover and Blossom, however, were not particularly happy to see him come in the door.