Well, boys and girls, what will Auntie Turtle be doing this week? Guess! It has something to do with horses… and getting used to their bigness… and helping to maintain their bigness, even!
Yesterday, my son and I had the bestest-ever visit together. He has to go back to work tomorrow, and planned to take the noon-hour bus today. He had just gotten up, and was enjoying a nice cup of coffee while I made a hasty tour of my blog buddies, skipping a few of them as my fingers trickled through the list (so if you didn’t get any comments, it’s ’cause I never got there) . One blog — and, after reading it, I decided it would be the final one this morning — was Shelley’s.
Shelley’s husband Chris hasn’t been feeling all that great lately. Shelley wrote yesterday that he was in the nearest hospital, and she was worried because the pain in her knees makes it very difficult to walk all the dogs or climb up in the loft to throw down hay bales for their two horses.
Now, guess who isn’t working for anybody this week? Jack’s Mom is staying home for his first two weeks of grade seven, Robert and Jane don’t need a catsitter, and I’m no longer with the pet store. So, just on the off-chance that Shelley hadn’t found anyone to help out, I phoned her up.
And that was that. Sonny Boy made a delicious breakfast of huevos rancheros while I fed the dogs and took them on potty break; we all had breakfast; Sonny Boy and I packed; I washed the dishes while E.g. gave the house a quick sweep; and we all piled into the car. We dropped Sonny Boy at the bus station just before 11 00, and arrived at Shelley’s just before 13 00.
The good news is that the hospital figures Chris can come home today after all, even though he’s still feeling fairly lousy. But I’m staying for a few days anyway, out in the middle of the country, to help with the chores and maybe sneak away to a nearby marsh with my binoculars once. I’m enjoying it already: I can hear crickets instead of condo construction, can you believe it?
Wow. I’m not home again. Maybe I should look into making a living as a travel writer.
PS Don’t forget to enter Turtle’s latest contest — everyone’s a winner! And, to use a farming term, I need fresh fodder for my limerick mill. Ta-ta for now.