Good God

It's Wednesday?  I think?

I hope someone remembered to roll my trash cans to the street because lord knows I didn't...

The brain is fried.  It's dead, broken, twitching and otherwise dysfunctional.  Today it took me no less than twelve separate trips to my tack locker to collect everything I needed to ride

(note: usually it's trips top, first trip is groom box, helmet, gloves and saddle pad.  Second trip is saddle, horsey boots and treats for the pony.  Third trip is me changing into tall boots.  Prair's bridle and girth hang in the main office by our "tack stall")

Really it the extra trips were even more impressive when you consider that I don't even collect twelve things unless you count all boots and brushes separately... which was, in fact, part of my problem.

Anyway, that's a good indication of the week.  It also took me 2 hours to print 12 nametags because my printer broke, then I used the wrong Avery Template, then I just couldn't get the paper fed in correctly, etc. etc.

Time. For. Couch.

In other news, Prair has been a bit of a loon.  Not full lunatic, but just... difficult.  My arms and hands are officially aching from our ride, which I don't think is indicative of "relaxation."  Of course when we were both sweaty and tired and untacking she was all hugs and butter. 

This face sums it all up.

Gus is fine.  He is adorable and since he's growing a big, fuzzy, full bear suit he has that sweet smell of horse that super-groomed-show-ponies don't.

It's nice.