Yes, I'm wearing a tiara. It's my mom uniform.
I have a million things to put into words, and yet the words elude me. Nothing - officially nothing - is in my brain. The happenings of this very insane day have left me fragmented... the three interruptions I've had from the "you're supposed to be sleeping" humans since I wrote the sentences above, remind me why de-fragmentation is positively important for
I rode my horses with my sister this past Saturday and within 20 minutes I rediscovered a part of myself, I had a clear and complete stream of thought and I found a joy deeply embedded within myself. My happy pony was doing Spanish Riding School moves beneath me, expressing herself through dance and exuberance, but never putting me in harm's way. Her antics reflected our mutual feelings in the moment. :-)
George is in Miami for the week again, so of course Lochlan downed some whipping cream right before bed last night and his earnest vomiting persisted until the sun began to peak upon the horizon. I decided this day was not going to be a reflection of last night's challenges, so I set about an attempt to restore a photograph on my wall this morning. As I removed it from the wall where it hung, the frame splintered into various pieces in my hands. Instead of restoring the photograph (which has warped and wrinkled over time), I settled for super glue and gorilla tape and hoped measurable success did not continue to avoid me for the remainder of the day.
I had started a load of laundry in the cabin in preparation for our guests' arrival tonight and when I walked over to check on it, I discovered that the imbalanced washing machine had taken a walk across the bathroom, spreading spilled laundry detergent and dirt about the floor. I put the washing machine in hand cuffs and placed it back where it belonged, cleaned the mess, and was partially through the remainder of the preparations when the guests arrived early - quite early. I went out to greet them, only to discover that the boys had let the dogs (my Mom's three dogs and my three dogs = yep, 6 dogs) into the yard and they were happily greeting all of the guests. Fortunately, these guests have been here before and are familiar with
I re-entered our house to discover Kelton had drowned the bathroom and upon my inquiry into the situation, he confidently announced, "It was the prairie dogs." "Honey, the prairie dogs are still hibernating" I reminded him. "No, they woke up to do this," he stated.
So, I shall choose this night to not think about the 5 loads of laundry still awaiting me, the horses' dirty pen that needs attention, the spilled dirt on the floor from where Kelton "helped" move dirt from the flower pot into the garden. I shall tiptoe around the bird seed scattered across the floor from Paugie's attempt to fill the bird feeder. I shall whip some whipping cream for my decaf coffee, outside on the porch in the darkness, so that Lochlan doesn't emerge (yet again) from his bedroom for a taste. I shall ignore the dishes piled in my sink, though they haunt my peace. I shall hold my sweet puppy as I close my eyes and just try to be silent and still. I shall pretend that all my children are quietly asleep in their beds. I shall hold to hope, though fatigue darken my outlook.
This girl has the right idea.
Aberdeen's first ride on horseback. She was a superstar.