I’ve got what the old time cowboys and Mr. Lincoln called “the slows” today. I’m not sick, I’m not depressed and I’m not buried under 5 feet of snow–I’m just locked in low-gear for some reason. And that’s okay.
I’ll write–but slowly.
Life just gets a little too frenzied sometimes, with all that goes on out here in the country. Errands to run. Animals in need of attention. Roads to be plowed. Etc., etc., etc.
Today, Buck will have another accupuncture treatment for his joints. He seems to be responding well to this. Sadie gets a second treatment tomorrow, as part of her therapy. I can’t help smiling when I imagine what my grandfathers would have thought of all this–but, hey, it works.
Maybe I’ll try it myself. Now there’s a concept–taking care of myself. Most of my friends say that if souls are reincarnated, they’d like to come back as one of my pets. Not a bad gig, I’ve got to admit.
Have a good one.