Sensory Overload

I was going to get a lot of work done yesterday. I mean, I had a lot of plans to get a mass done, coloring pages for www.moderntales.com (and ultimately for www.booksurge.com). Oh, yes, virtue was breathing out at my pores.

But it was high tide, and sunny, and I thought I'd go down to my favorite trout hole on the river. It wouldn't take long, I was sure. And it didn't. Caught my limit -- two -- in about ten minutes. Nice cutthroats. Great! I could get right back to work.

Okay. That meant I could go back to work. But I get back and I'm in the middle of cleaning the fish when my Horse Friend calls.

"Wanna go riding? I'm taking the kids."

OOh. Well, uh -- that'll take about three hours. But -- it's excercise, right? And it's nice out, though now it's overcast and cold. So I'd better take advantage.

So we spend three hours dragging around trails not only LEADING extra horses but with KIDS on 'em, one couple being an autistic girl and the gelding who had bonded so fiercely with her he would try to run through you if you got between him and her, and thought EVERYTHING in the world, including yellow caution tape, was out to kill her.

I was leading the lazy white greenbroke mare, and the little boy who spent most of his time staring at the sky and NOT keeping her going, until she decided to trot and he hauled back so hard he nearly took my arm out of the socket with him.

When I got back, I remembered I'd promised to take the Neighbor Girl to cast, and she's officially a fisherman, cuz she got my hook in her thigh (she will never stand behind a caster again). We about froze our fingers off, so we went back to the house to drop off the fishing poles and hit some hot cocoa and raw ramen noodles (which is what we use for crackers).

And I should mention we'd invited a friend down for dinner that evening partly because we owe him for helping us haul left-over cedar ends from the saw mill, but mostly because he's a nice fun guy, and Dan and he have a load of fun talking. So I fired up the wood stove and got to cooking up dinner.

And fishergirl's mom came over to pick her up, because I'd overheated her cocoa and it was taking her a while to drink it. And F's mom stayed to chat and have some jug wine and smoke cheap cigarettes out on the porch with me.

And it turned into a party! Trout and home-grown taters and black-berry dumplings and jug wine and homemade pear ice cream. Stuffed ourselves silly.

'till the deputy's kid's miniature horse, Rex, took off down the road and F's mom and I went to the rescue in the dark and Chewie the giant malemute dog was found gently herding this tiny horse very little larger than she is back home (good Chewie!). Chris and I led Rex back, while he rubbed his head on my side. Rex only comes up to about my hip, and is just as sweet as sugar, and all furry for winter.

Nobody was home at the deputy's residence -- what's called The Lighthouse up here, even though it's just the old caretaker's house, the lighthouse itself being long gone, since they put in the buoy.

So we took the p0ny back to F's mom's house and had to call 911 so they could find the deputy, because the family had all gone to Forks and left the pony tethered right next to Bear Kill ridge, which wasn't a good idea because the bear had been coming down and snacking on the salmon coming up the river, and the cougars are always looking for McDeer's, and the little horse, Rex, is about the right size.

Anyway, Rex's owner's dad showed up and took the horse home, where he could be locked up safe. Sawmill guy and husband Dan had had a great time, talking away at the house without the womenfolks. And Fishergirl was all excited by the pony's visit. Chewie stayed right by Rex the whole time.

Ain't animals great?

And that's why I didn't get any work done yesterday.

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