A Good Day to Feel Like Death...

My parents went away this weekend, leaving me all alone to tend to The Ranch. I took care of Tia and Zydo as if it WAS MY JOB, and damn, those horses have never faced such neglect as when they were left in my care.

I love my horse, and I even love my father's horse, the crazed and maniacal little lunatic that she is.

The problem is that on Saturday evening, I started to feel a strange scratchy feeling in my throat.

And then things just went downhill from there.

I came home from a night out on Sunday morning and fed and put out the horses, fully intending to clean their stalls properly, and even fork the cleanings from their stalls to the top of the shit pile. (See how I wrote there, 'the cleanings from their stalls'? Aren't I polite on the Internet? Usually, I would just say 'fork the shit to the top of the pile'. I love how being in the public eye makes me classy.)

Today was a snow day, and I had no intentions of going to school regardless of the weather. At ten, my mother informed me that she and my brother were going shopping, so, in hopes of scoring some free coffee, I begged to go along for the ride. We arrived home back at The Ranch in a beautiful afternoon, one of those afternoons that just screams how Spring is coming, and Damn, Girl! You should tack up your horse and ride him for all he's worth.

And instead, despite the fact that Zydo was looking balefully at me from the pasture, I got home and found myself in my warm and cozy bed, and I slept for two hours LIKE IT WAS MY JOB, and I woke up...

And then it was dark, and all chances of riding were over and gone....

And I have nothing left but to think that perhaps another such day may come. Perhaps another day will happen upon us here in The Great White North where I will feel like getting my lazy ass off the couch to spend some time with my horse.

Sadly, today was not that day.