As difficult as it is to believe, I went through the weekend without a single idea of what to write about. Really. No, I didn’t have a single idea, I had many. Too many, actually, so I ended up writing nothing. Quite the empty feeling, it was, and A Bumpy Path is left wanting.
The same thing happened with photography. I’d have a great idea that would fly in one ear and pass straight through to fly out the other ear. Out in the Back Yard gets frequent updates – I take a lot of photos – but not this past weekend.
I did get some things done though. I worked with Odin to see how much of a shithead he’d be about going from a lazy pasture pet to a horse that actually earns some of his top-of-the-line feed in the form of entertainment. Don’t get me wrong, he is entertaining! He’s a delightful animal. But, it’s time to do more together, and that means with me on his back. So, I worked him. He surprised me by getting down to business once the saddle was on, but I figured I’d better trim his feet before expecting him to haul me around. When I did his feet the next day, I pushed my ol’ body beyond its limits. Odin is granted another reprieve until my muscles stop aching!
So, I cleaned up around here between breaks of checking Facebook and reading the news. On Facebook, it’s so much like sitting around waiting for the phone to ring. I’m waiting for a message, a poke, an update or even the real phone to ring. Nothing. The news goes from “the economy is showing signs of hope” to “the economy is hitting harder than ever.” Obama is pushing this healthcare plan that he insists on, playing around in the Middle East while seemingly ignoring N Korea, and Clinton is getting poised to step in to take over the media show should the need arise. Unemployment is up, Obama’s rating is down (it’s not quite yet to say “I told you so,” but it’s getting close) and 22,000 soldiers are headed into Afghanistan. About the only thing I could come up with lately out of that mess to write on Eyebald is about some dingbat teenager falling into an open manhole because she was too busy texting to watch where she was going.
Maybe a run into town for groceries would break my mood, especially since the guy never showed up to bush hog my pastures. I jump into the truck, turn the key and clickclickclickclick was all I got. Wiggle this, wiggle that, try again, repeat, repeat, repeat ended with a desperate call to a friend for a rescue. Hours later, the grocery money was spent on a new battery and a truck that now starts beautifully.
After an 11 hour day at work, a Monday no less, I figured I’d better let you all kinow just how scattered I am. It’s about the best I could do. There’s been too much input leading to too little output! On that note, good night…