Everyday Life

While I was looking for my old blog post about Pierson's flu shot yesterday, I had to read through a lot of my old blogs.  I used to keep pretty up to date on daily happenings on what brats my kids were, and I don't do that anymore - probably in part because they can read now.  It was fun reading through them, even though most of them were about who threw up and how many times on any given day.

Anyway, I think I'll start keeping things up to date with more mundane stuff here instead of just the really fantastical stuff, like how Blitz is the most perfect horse in the world, which you already knew, and when the dogs eat the furniture.

Today was a day. 

Yeah.  Definitely a day.

I had to take Maxie (doxie) to the vet to get her teeth cleaned.  They were some kind of nasty, and if we didn't have it done we ran the risk of the build-up getting into her blood stream and getting to her heart.  The thought of that sends me into a snotfest, so I made her appointment for today and had to have her there at 8am.  Poor baby didn't want to be left in a cage, but I left her with her special blue blankie and Scotlyn bundled her in her Sunday-go-to-meeting outfit, so she'd look nice for Dr. Stafford. 

After that, I decided if I had to drive fifteen miles, why not forty?  So I looped through Bogalusa to Franklinton to have the van looked at.  It needs a new tire.  But again, if I'm going to get one new tire, why not two?  Problem is, I'll have to order them because the genius that built the GMC Safari thought it would be fun to slap on some weird sized tires that no one's ever heard of before.

Came home.  Scotlyn needs help with math.  No problemo.  I like math.  She needs to know how to find the volume of a prism.  Problemo.  There's a reason I dropped out of college. 

Back to pick up Maxie - no time for lunch, but it smelled good.  Maxie was a good girl and didn't bite the vet, but she did pee on Scotlyn in the car.  I'll blame it on the drugs and give her a treat when she feels better. 

I left to pick up a friend's flat bed trailer to load hay.  Backed up to the trailer.  Went too far.  Pulled forward.  Too far.  Back.  Too far.  Repeat twelve times.  Cry and kick the truck.  Limp.  Hitch trailer five minutes after I'm supposed to actually pick up the hay, which is fifteen miles away.  Leave, forgetting to get the money to pay for the hay on myway through town.  Remember when I pull up to the hay barn.  Cry again.

Get hay from understanding man who must have a keen sense of woman on the edge.  He tells me a check is just fine, or I can pay him later.  Nice man.  I'm going to make him cookies.

Go home with hay.  Get lost.  On the way to my house.  Don't even bother crying again.  While pulling into the pasture with the hay, all the horses run out of the pasture hell bent for leather.  I don't even care anymore.  At least I won't have to feed them. Stupid animals come back, and I think of locking them out.  Unload hay, decide while I have kids to help me to put my horse trailer gate back on trailer (don't ask).  Drop the gate on my foot.  Again. 

Return flatbed trailer to friend.  Go to town because I'm almost out of gas.  Go to Winn Dixie for groceries.  Leave grocery list in truck.  Shoot from the hip and find Hershey's French Silk pies on sale - BOGO.  It must be a sign from God.  Buy groceries, load them in the truck, which had to go in back seat because the bed had a 1500 pound bale of hay and 300 pounds of horse feed that still has to be unloaded.  Can't wait. 

Fell asleep in parking lot.  Head home (after I wake up, not while I'm still sleeping).  Forgot gas.  Turn around.  Remember I have a diesel now.  Got diesel.  Came home.  Told the kids if they didn't do their chores (kitchen was nasty) they would never eat again and I think they knew I meant it. 

Hiding in room with no intention of ever leaving, even though my stomach is growling and I have chicken salad and fresh baked croissants just two rooms away. 

And Peter put in his notice today.  He starts his new job in December.