dancinghorse | If It's Tuesday, It Must Be the BBC

I admit it. I'm a BBC America geek. I just love Changing Rooms and Ground Force and House Invaders and What Not to Wear (the original, wicked, Brit version)and all the mysteries and Jonathan Creek and Monarch of the Glen and and and. So it's Tuesday and Changing Rooms (Laura, the Brit Hildi, is painting a room black and orange, and Michael is doing pale blue and what the homeowners are calling "sludge" and he is calling "dove grey)and I find myself remarkably content, all things considered.

Back is better. I have the Bilbo Baggins sensation known to CFS sufferers--thin and sort of stretched, with no reserves left once I scrape the bottom of the jar--but I'm remarkably cheerful. One of those don't ask why, just enjoy it sort of things. My stomach has said Enough to all the advil, so it's on to the magnesium, and I have a therma-pad for overnight. I will too get over this and ride my ponies!

Part of the good cheer was getting out and about. My car is very nice for lower-back ouchies; the seat is just right. Maybe I need to get out and drive for a day or so. I took

casacorona to the doctor, made a Costco run, and came home in remarkably good spirits, just in time to feed the troops. They were perky. There were stray dogs around, which had Camilla in War Mode and Ephiny in Let's Run Around and Look Stunningly Gorgeous Mode. Pook was just very, very watchful--he's the stallion, it's his job to watch for predators.

In fact this morning one of the dogs was in the arena, on three legs. I think he may have tangled with da Pook. Da Pook was roaring. I was hauling a cart full of trash bags out to the can at the end of the arena, as collection day was today. Something about stallions and rattly carts--it triggers a hormone rush. I have no idea why. It just does.

So he was blasting around, charging the fence, going boing-Boing-BOING!. Much fun. Much spectacularity. Finally he blew apart in all directions at once with this vast SQUEEEEEEE!!!!. And came and I held up the halter and he pushed his nose into it and went sweetly to his pen.

Life on the farm is never, ever dull.

And tonight--Pages! I wrote a bit last night and a bit this morning. There should be more in there before I go Thud.