The weather people are predicting another big snow. 8-10 inches are possible, so we’re getting prepared around here, as best we can. The other day, Buck took a tumble on the ice–he wasn’t hurt, thank heaven–and couldn’t get up. The Canadian Wrangler spread salt and gravel around him, and he finally got some traction and gained his feet again. Buck is one tough old Arizona horse, walking around the pasture in his bright green winter coat, and we’re all deeply attached to him.
I have been fighting a cold, and that kept me from writing over the weekend, as I’d intended to do. It’s ironic, because I’m loving this story and these characters so much. I forge slowly onward.
There’s an elevator in my house–nothing fancy, but it works–and Sadie-beagle and I take it down to the basement at night, when she needs to go outside. My studio/craft room is on that floor, so I usually get distracted by some toy while she’s doing her thing. Last night, I must have been real distracted, because Sadie came back in without my noticing. I looked toward the elevator and there she was, already aboard, waiting for me to join her. Since I’m the one with the opposable thumbs, button pushing is my responsibility.
Back to the approaching storm and getting ready. The grub has been laid in–can a person live for a week on Snickerdoodles and nachos? and the horses have plenty of shavings and hay.
It’s all good.