Skip to main content

Excuses, Excuses.


Sorry about the quiet space. Here's what's been keeping me too busy to blog:

1. Facebook. I can't help it—I love it. It's like having all of my best friends over for tea simultaneously without having to make any muffins or wash any dishes.

2. Missy. For those readers who follow Fenway Bartholomule at Brays Of Our Lives, you'll know that our goat has been struck down by some sort of life-threatening illness. I am happy to report that she seems to be rallying, and that she still has a sparkle in her eye and a hearty appetite. Hope is far from lost, but I am getting rather less sleep than usual. This will continue for as long as she needs IV flushes every four hours. The good news about this schedule is that there is nothing so meditative and serene as a moonlit visit to the livestock in the depths of the night; I should do it more often. Too bad it took illness to remind me how I love these moments.

3. Work. Real work, on the computer, paid. This weekend, I hammer the rest of it out.

4. Computer issues. Did I mention real work, on the computer? Yes, I think I did. Perfect timing for the new Macbook to go kablooey. It is at the factory getting hardware tested, for an undisclosed number of days or weeks. We are staggering along with the old Macbook, which was and has been terminally ill for some time. I think, though, that its two week vacation did it good: it now crashes at longer intervals.

5. Fenway Bartholomule. I haven't ridden in two weeks due to items 2, 4, 6, and 7. Nonetheless, he's been on my mind and in my yard, and I have taken every opportunity to rub his ears, bask in his presence, and relinquish to him my worries. I check on Missy, Fen checks on me. I love him for it.

6. Weather. Lovely today, wet last week. This morning was compellingly beautiful, to the point that I thought I might cry at the beauty of the dewy lawn and the misty moisty spiderwebs. Part of me, without denying that nature IS magnificent, admits that this might be the result of too little sleep.

8. Motherhood. With someone's sixth birthday coming up, we have cakes to bake, cupcakes to purchase (no homebaked goodies by school district policy!), favors to choose, guest lists to compose, skating rinks to book, gifts to wrap, etcetera, etcetera. Before you nominate me for the Mother of the Year award, I'll just mention that the guest list was composed five days before the planned skating party, that the money for the skating rink may just have been spent on banamine paste and Lactated Ringers solution today, and that the cake is going to be decorated with cheap Chinese plastic dogs instead of expensive German plastic dogs. In my defense, my children have an enviable collection of inanimate farmlife, and they do not need a half dozen more Schleich brand puppies to make life complete.

M

Comments

  1. Blue PageOctober 2, 2010 at 7:51 PM

    Well now, these things are your source material! You have listed just a few items that you have drawn upon and written so artfully about in your blogs - pragmatic, often humorous sharing of experience... joys, humor, beauty, worries & memories. So I say no excuses needed.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Thanks in Advance for Your Mulish Opinion!

Popular Posts

Here are the Cloud Dog's X-Rays

Here, for your edification, are the X-rays of dear Paisley's leg. There is, apparently, no new break (since his Monday siezure) but there is, of course, a great deal of abnormality caused by years of living with a shortened ulna. His pronounced lameness, the vet says, may temporarily improve. Unlike me, Fenway Bartholomule, poor cloud dog can't expect much in the way of a full recovery.   Not having the $$$$ for surgery to fuse the joint, we are working on making some sort of rigid splint to support the limb and prevent further degeneration. That is, the humans (with their space-age material inventions and their opposable thumbs) are working on making a splint; I am working on giving cloud dog brayful looks of support and encouragement every time he totters into the yard to relieve himself. As always, he fears me (me?!) and keeps his distance.  Ears to you,  Fenway
2 comments
Continued . . .

Vegan Spring Rolls

I, Fenway Bartholomule, am a vegan: of course I only eat plants, not people! My human is too, so I'm sharing my blog with her today so that she can participate in the 2014 Virtual Vegan Potluck ! When you're done perusing the recipe for these delicious spring rolls, click "back" or "forward" for the entire potluck experience! Virtual Vegan Potluck: Spring Roll Appetizers Beautiful? Check. Healthy? Check. Delicious? Check. Easy? Check. Fancy? Check. Quick to clean up after? Check. Vegan? OF COURSE! If you're looking for something portable, colorful, and crowd-pleasing for your next potluck, look no further than these simple vegan spring rolls! The best part? You can substitute ANYTHING. I never make these the same way twice, so play around with cilantro, kale, cabbage, scallions, or whatever you think sounds good! Ingredients Veggie mix: 2 carrots (grated) 4 oz mung bean sprouts 1/3 cup chopped peanuts (raw, or roasted and salted) or ...
11 comments
Continued . . .

Catastrophy

This is the emergency broadcast system. This is not a test. I was going to entertain you with more haiku today, but something terrible has happened. I need your support. Today was supposed to be a regular spa day—a nice little hoofie trim, a fresh mane roach, an ear massage, and a handful of sunflower seeds (for shine). Instead of merely taking care of my beauty routine, however, FarmWife spent a full hour in contemplation of and attention to my overall physique. The upshot? A revision of my condition from Plump to Obese. (Her actual words, upon removing my blanket for the first time in a few days, were "Oh my God! You've ballooned!") She has decided that my fatness has become a health risk, and has resolved to exercise me as often as possible. It gets dark at 4:30. Her husband gets home at 5:30. She has small children and no sitter. This, my friends, means that I will end up being longed. Longed at the end of a stupid, smelly old rope. Forced to walk and trot...
14 comments
Continued . . .

Mowers and raccoons and steers, oh my!

In my informal Facebook survey I learned that the majority of Friends of the Muleness want more stories—All the Stories!—and that the story they want most of all is the story of the raccoon.  Farmwife says it's hardly a story at all, and that it would be something to talk about had the raccoon been in my barn, or touching my body, or gesticulating at me with it's bizarrely human little fingers to indicate that it would like a little snack or help with its homework. Alas, this is not that kind of story.  Before I tell you about the raccoon I have to go backwards and tell you that I am feeling very good in my body these days. My track through the forest has been expanded, my laminitis is at bay, and my health has been very largely excellent since I came here to the Atomic Ranch in December. I am feeling so good, in fact, that I have been cleared for long walks around the neighborhood! Puck, Farmwife, and I sometimes make the long loop up Saratoga and back around Fox Spit, which ...
1 comment
Continued . . .