Pop On Over

The lousy weather has given me some time to cook in the morning. So this morning I made popovers....

and eggs for a late breakfast. Being the good tender of animals that I am, the horses of course were fed before us. 

You know, I'm still trying to unravel the mystery of why I got fat. I think this will remain one of those unanswerable questions.

A Day (Or Two) In The Life

So I think I have been busy and absent. Absent from my own blog and from the pleasant business of visiting my favorite people every day.


I have been living the life of a working homeowner and as most people know, that is a time consuming venture indeed. In addition to the job of care and keep of twenty-six horses, I have been busily taking advantage of a few days of dry weather to start putting the place to rights before winter descends upon us.


I also took an afternoon to paint the hallway in my house. It badly needed it, even though I had painted it three years ago. Every time Howard shakes his head, stuff flies and he seems to shake his head in the hallway a lot. It was looking like a Jackson Pollack painting!

These lovely trees make for lots of leaves on the ground. Pretty to look at but much work to clean up. I have taken to chopping them instead of raking, which seems to work well. So yesterday, a damp and dreary day, I sat on the lawn tractor and mowed the lawn for the last time of the season, as well as chopped the leaves.

Howard B. Hound was checking out the leaves for me. He is my quality control and he does such a good job.

I think he told me it was OK to chop this section.

The horses don't understand all of the fuss. If I would only let them they would gladly eat the grass and the leaves for me.

My manager seems to approve the job. Whew!

Mr. Solo agrees with Howard.

I always have photos of Howard and none of Grace. I am not playing favorites. Howard is a shadow, whereas Grace is a free spirit and goes about her day independent from the two-leggers. Which is a polite way of saying Grace is always into some kind of mischief or another. It's easy to photograph Howard because he follows me everywhere I go. He's a mama's boy.


This is usually the day I ramble on about my deep (uh-huh) thoughts. I don't seem to have any thoughts right now, deep or otherwise. I think struggling through mud for a month has drained me of any thoughts, other than the thought of staying on my feet.


We are due for more of the wet stuff today. The wood fencing is turning green. In October it is turning green. I expect to see the horses develop webbing on their hooves. I have given up trying to keep the floors in the house clean, my dogs don't wipe their feet before they come in.


I do have one thought. Enough, already.

Robert Lowell

Dolphin

My Dolphin, you only guide me by surprise.
a captive as Racine, the man of craft,
drawn through his maze of iron composition
by the glassy bowing and scraping of my own will....
I have sat and listened to too many
words of the collaborating muse,
and plotted perhaps too freely with my life,
not avoiding injury to others,
not avoiding injury to myself....
to ask compassion.... this book, half fiction,
an eelnet made by man for the eel fighting


my eyes have seen what my hand did.

Things That Make Me Smile

Apple Pie

fresh from the oven

Apple Pie

with a big dollop of whipped cream

A sleeping Howard

Yes there is a dog under that ear

A Greyhound so fast she blurs when she beats up Howard

Bug On A Pin

My slightly off-skew brain brought forth this image. To speak to the www with reckless abandon places one in a position like a bug on a pin. Open to close examination. Unlike the hapless dragonfly, we place ourselves willingly on that pin. No need to become too introspective as to ask why. 

Intellectually I know that I am not sitting at a nice wine bar in the city, talking to a good friend when I sit at my desk, merrily typing whatever comes floating into my brain at that given time.


OK, I know this intellectually, but that's where the awareness stops. Because as I am sitting in my nice office with the goldenrod colored walls and shelves and shelves of books, horse show trophies and Margaret the Cat always perched in front of my keyboard, it is so easy to feel a sense of intimacy and felicity. It truly does feel like a nice little chat.


Since it's just between us, even though we're not in that nice St. Paul wine bar I sometimes do have a glass of wine while we talk. Margaret abstains, but she will, from time to time, indulge in a little catnip. As I often tell her, most things are good in moderation. Even a little internet chat.

A Poem

Elinor Wylie



The Lost Path

THE garden's full of scented wallflowers,

And, save that these stir faintly, nothing stirs;

Only a distant bell in hollow chime

Cried out just now for far-forgoten time,

And three reverberate words the great bell spoke.

The knocker's made of brass, the door of oak,

And such a clamor must be loosed on air

By the knocker's blow that knock I do not dare.

The silence is a spell, and if it break,

What things, that now lie sleeping, will awake?


Are simple creatures lying there in cool

Sweet linen sheets, in slumber like the pool

Of moonlight white as water on the floor?

Will they come down laughing and unlock the door?

And will they draw me in, and let me sit

On the tall settle while the lamp is lit?

And shall I see their innocent clean lives

Shining as plainly as the plates and knives,

The blue bowls, and the brass cage with its bird?


But listen! listen! surely something stirred

Within the house, and creeping down the halls

Draws close to me with sinister footfalls.

Will long pale fingers softly lift the latch,

And lead me up, under the osier thatch,

To a little room, a little secret room,

Hung with green arras picturing the doom,

The most disasterous death of some proud knight?

And shall I search the room by candle-light

And see, behind the curtains of my bed,

A murdered man who sleeps as sleep the dead?


Or will my clamorous knocking shake the trees

With lonely thunder through the stillnesses,

And then lie down--the coldest fear of all--

To nothing, and deliberate silence fall

On the house deep in the silence, and no one come

To door or window, staring blind and dumb?

Nature Really Needs To Eliminate The Stupid

Oh my god. This horse is a saint. Who's the dumb beast here. I think the one with two legs. The embed capability was disabled due to request. Hmmm, why would that be? Click the link and you'll find out.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=opMiCyoRzYM&feature=player_embedded

More About Me, Or Run.... Fast

Once again I have been graced with an award. Ganeida's Knots has decided everyone needs to know seven more things about me. Oh boy. Here goes.

1.  First I am going to say that although I appreciate from the bottom of my heart the sentiment behind awards, I am not going to participate in awards anymore. I will need to start making up seven things about myself if I do! There really is nothing more to tell. At least that is fit to print.

2.  I feel a great urge lately to be lazy. I yearn for free time to waste.

3.  When I was laid-up with a broken wrist and had free time to waste I could hardly wait to get back to work.

4.  I think I can't be pleased.

5.  I can swear like a dock worker, but I rarely do. But I can.

6.  I am loyal.

7.  I'm bored with myself by number seven.

I am on a limited time frame, got to get back to work.  I'm going to break the rules and not pass this on to anyone in particular. Some people love these and some people don't. Since I don't know who you are, I'll leave it to my dear readers to decide if they want to play along and claim the award.

Oh What A Day

Hard work spotlights the character of people:  some turn up their sleeves, some turn up their noses, and some don't turn up at all.  ~Sam Ewing

Really, I must be getting too old for this. Mark and I spent a twelve hour day laboring in the barn. The very wet weather has kept horses in the barn too much, leaving me with a lot of extra work. Mark is busy right now and really could not spare the time, but like the good man he is, he did anyway.

My muscles have been on vacation due to the various physical problems I've experienced so I am out of working condition. I have to admit to being sore and tired by the end of the day. Really sore and tired.

Which led me to do something I never do; I soaked in a hot tub for about forty minutes. Now I wonder why I never do that, since it was so pleasant and soothing. Even though I don't use the tub, I do have essential oils. Wow, what a difference it made. I may be getting too old to work like I did, but I'm not too old to learn something new. Like a soak in a hot bath laced with essential oils is a really good thing!

Here Comes The Sun

Something we haven't seen this month. I feel better already.