Peas in a pod, Ryon and I are. The doc came to see him today and gave him a shot for his infection as well as some antibiotics. "Apple-flavoured" the label claims. Fat chance. We'll have to sneak it into his food to get him to take it. I'm proud of the boy though. Didn't flinch once during the shot and it was a biiiiig needle. Myself, I'm bone-tired. The past few weeks have been long ones and I've been noticeably more quiet in the office (although maybe a little more outspoken here). It's the kind of tired that asks for only coffee during the day please, no food for fuel necessary. Someday I'll rest, someday when I'm dead and buried or scattered and not even the wisp of a memory of me remains. Until then, books to read, people to see, horses to love on. Because that's the point isn't it? Of living? To do, to run things until exhaustion and then to push a little further beyond that. How will you know the limits until you test them?
This isn't meant to be a pity post or even really a tired post. It is what I've chosen and no whinging about that. I'll bury my face into a feather pillow some day. But today is not that day.
Finger snapping, leg slapping, foot tapping Texan girl who works with numbers. I like blank pages, the written word and horses. This is my attempt to amuse you via books, food, travel and the assorted spice rack of life.