![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Briefly poking head up above the bunker and peering around. I've been working. A lot. Imagine that. Read proofs for Kingdom of the Grail; those are headed for the PO in a bit. Proofs for Rite of Conquest are en route and should arrive tomorrow. They're being released as a pair--there's an excerpt from RoC in KoG. I like the combination; they both have Arthurian echoes, and they sort of resonate with one another.
Also have been racking up pages. Lots of lovely pages. Not as many as I can do in real blitz mode, but they're coming out fast and they're mostly of the keeper variety, so I'm not complaining. I'm juggling two first drafts and a second draft--not entirely successfully; I do much better working with one at a time. But necessity demands. And all that.
The downside to this much activity is, I don't have energy for anything else. A lot of my Inbox is sitting there in back-burner mode. I'll get to it Soon. Must run errands first--aforementioned PO run, and little luxuries like food.
Taminy is doing really well. I suspected some of his problem was depression from being shut in a single room for so long, so I let him out. That cheered him up immensely. The other cats haven't bothered him--even Tenshi the Samurai Killer Kitty has been leaving him alone--and he's been eating like a real cat. He spends a lot of time close by me. Next experiment: put him back on his allergy meds. If he can keep those down, we're in good shape.
I've been getting a lot of horsework done as a brain break from the writing. Pooka has his shoe back on, and has been feeling quite full of himself. After his ride on Tuesday, he wanted to go exploring. He was checking out junk in the neighbors' yards, trees, bushes, cacti (very carefully), and generally having a great time. Since he used to be a spinbolting maniac and occasional escape artist out of sight of his mares, this is a big deal. He bops along on a loose lead (I never use a stud chain with him--bad idea, corroborated by stallion manager at the spa) with a big smile on his face. He's definitely graduated to Walkies Bud First Class. Next step, Trail Bud. This is harder because he's a stallion--so I can't just grab the nearest friendly local and ask for company; they all get hinky about what he'll do if they're riding a mare, or if he decides he dislikes their gelding--and because he's a Huge mover, which means that the only thing in the area that can keep up with him is Capria the Power-Walking Queen. And she hates his living guts. This means starting him off solo, which isn't the best way. But we make do. The goal is for him to be safe in any group, of any gender, progressing at any speed. We will get there eventually.
Keed is growing. Keed is nine years old. In case you really did believe the rural legend that "horses are full-grown by age four." He looks like a hatrack. He's lost most of his muscling, his back is a tube, and his withers are turning into this big jutty Thing. This is going to last through the summer, I would say. Then I'm going to have this big, beautiful grey tank. And maybe he'll decide that's it. And stop growing.
In fact they're all growing except the two oldest mares. If Camilla gets much more tanky we'll put "US Army" on her side and send her to Iraq. Or ship her off to Troy with a load of Greeks on board. She has her confidence back and is demanding work in a big way--huge bucking fits if someone else gets to go Out and she gets left behind. Ephiny is starting to ask for work herself, though once she gets her little bit, she remembers she's only a baby. A very big baby who is even more hatrack-y than keed. And is about the same height. Gaudia is happy to be a baby, but has graduated from blobby light-grey weanling to tall, elegant, gunmetal-grey yearling (yes, she's darkened considerably from her winter to her summer coat). She's as tall as her dad, might be a smitch taller actually. She'll be a nice big horse.
And yes, da Pook is working on his own physical plant. He's got plenty of mass to him, is turning into an idealized male version of Carrma--and she's one of the shortest but also one of the biggest horses on the place. She takes up a lot of space--not so much vertically as in all dimensions. Pook is going the same route. The Welsh-pony look is giving way to the "Wow! Is that a Lipizzan?" effect.
And yes, a white horse can have a shine on him. Pooka gleams. He has an iridescent silvery porcelain coat that was designed to look great under crystal chandeliers. In Arizona sun, it glows. Even when he's been rolling in the dirt and needs a bath. (Bath. Yes. Must put on agenda.)
Also have been racking up pages. Lots of lovely pages. Not as many as I can do in real blitz mode, but they're coming out fast and they're mostly of the keeper variety, so I'm not complaining. I'm juggling two first drafts and a second draft--not entirely successfully; I do much better working with one at a time. But necessity demands. And all that.
The downside to this much activity is, I don't have energy for anything else. A lot of my Inbox is sitting there in back-burner mode. I'll get to it Soon. Must run errands first--aforementioned PO run, and little luxuries like food.
Taminy is doing really well. I suspected some of his problem was depression from being shut in a single room for so long, so I let him out. That cheered him up immensely. The other cats haven't bothered him--even Tenshi the Samurai Killer Kitty has been leaving him alone--and he's been eating like a real cat. He spends a lot of time close by me. Next experiment: put him back on his allergy meds. If he can keep those down, we're in good shape.
I've been getting a lot of horsework done as a brain break from the writing. Pooka has his shoe back on, and has been feeling quite full of himself. After his ride on Tuesday, he wanted to go exploring. He was checking out junk in the neighbors' yards, trees, bushes, cacti (very carefully), and generally having a great time. Since he used to be a spinbolting maniac and occasional escape artist out of sight of his mares, this is a big deal. He bops along on a loose lead (I never use a stud chain with him--bad idea, corroborated by stallion manager at the spa) with a big smile on his face. He's definitely graduated to Walkies Bud First Class. Next step, Trail Bud. This is harder because he's a stallion--so I can't just grab the nearest friendly local and ask for company; they all get hinky about what he'll do if they're riding a mare, or if he decides he dislikes their gelding--and because he's a Huge mover, which means that the only thing in the area that can keep up with him is Capria the Power-Walking Queen. And she hates his living guts. This means starting him off solo, which isn't the best way. But we make do. The goal is for him to be safe in any group, of any gender, progressing at any speed. We will get there eventually.
Keed is growing. Keed is nine years old. In case you really did believe the rural legend that "horses are full-grown by age four." He looks like a hatrack. He's lost most of his muscling, his back is a tube, and his withers are turning into this big jutty Thing. This is going to last through the summer, I would say. Then I'm going to have this big, beautiful grey tank. And maybe he'll decide that's it. And stop growing.
In fact they're all growing except the two oldest mares. If Camilla gets much more tanky we'll put "US Army" on her side and send her to Iraq. Or ship her off to Troy with a load of Greeks on board. She has her confidence back and is demanding work in a big way--huge bucking fits if someone else gets to go Out and she gets left behind. Ephiny is starting to ask for work herself, though once she gets her little bit, she remembers she's only a baby. A very big baby who is even more hatrack-y than keed. And is about the same height. Gaudia is happy to be a baby, but has graduated from blobby light-grey weanling to tall, elegant, gunmetal-grey yearling (yes, she's darkened considerably from her winter to her summer coat). She's as tall as her dad, might be a smitch taller actually. She'll be a nice big horse.
And yes, da Pook is working on his own physical plant. He's got plenty of mass to him, is turning into an idealized male version of Carrma--and she's one of the shortest but also one of the biggest horses on the place. She takes up a lot of space--not so much vertically as in all dimensions. Pook is going the same route. The Welsh-pony look is giving way to the "Wow! Is that a Lipizzan?" effect.
And yes, a white horse can have a shine on him. Pooka gleams. He has an iridescent silvery porcelain coat that was designed to look great under crystal chandeliers. In Arizona sun, it glows. Even when he's been rolling in the dirt and needs a bath. (Bath. Yes. Must put on agenda.)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif){kind=small}
