Winding down a long, long road

600 miles on the car since Thursday. Emotional gamut from egoboo prime to grief/crash/bleh. Sense of hitting the wall over and over and over and it's still there and I have to hit it One More Time. If you've seen Parsifal, you've seen the Grail-Knights closing in on the wounded king: "Letzten Mal!" That's me in the middle there, marinated in whine and moanses.

I am not always exhausted. Usually life is a pleasant routine. Horses. Writing. Horses. Writing. Errands. Visits. Horses. Adventures. Writing. Horses. The past two weeks have been completely off the charts and well into the region marked on all of the best maps, "Here Be Dragons."

Today features one more expedition: taking casacorona to her PT session for the Wonderful New Bionic Knee. Then, please god, I get a day OFF. To find the chapters of the mip again and start getting back in, find the saddles and bridles and reintroduce the horses to same, and start getting house and barn back into their normal state of mild but not terminal disorder. Daily training notes, page counts, cool factoids found and shamelessly appropriated, tv updates...life as she is lived among the Lipizzans.

One. More. Day.

Quiet! At Last!

An addendum for the day: dinner's made and eaten, big orange cat's on my shoulder, horses fed, and casacorona is home and satisfactorily PTed and probably asleep by now. "24" is on the tv and I'm approximating the brainpower of a large rutabaga.

The marathon is, I hope, over. Life is about to revert to its normal pattern. Tomorrow I may even, whattaconcept, ride a horse. I had to Discuss Matters with da Pook this evening, as he was getting a little bit full of himself on his way to dinner. That's always an indication that it's time to get back to work.