Er, yeah.
So I'm still kicking. Drama hasn't really decreased much, but I think I'm starting to wrangle it under control. Well, except for the election/work stuff, because there's no controlling that, and I'm a whore for the overtime.
After several months of ongoing on-and-off right front hoof ouchiness, I got fed up, called the vet, and said I wanted to block and x-ray it and figure out what the hell's going on in there, so we can fix it and I can have a horse I can ride. So we did that, which was pretty nifty, because I got to play x-ray tech and hold the panel for the digital x-ray machine. Also, because Cally's the best patient ever and fell asleep with her foot on the x-ray box. Turns out she's got thin soles, and thusly a slightly inflammed coffin bone. She got a snazzy cushy pad on the foot, some isoxsurpine, and voila, four days later, a happy sound pony. A $20 piece of polymer seems like a small price to pay for a rideable horse. Since then we've actually been riding somewhat consistently, and I mailed in entries for a tiny, starter-leve CT on June 15th. That should be fun :)
Not so good news on the ailing grandmother front. Of course, immediate family ignores recommendations to go to GW or Hopkins for treatments of the confusing, vaguely diagnosed and poorly treated illness. By the time she made it to Hopkins, it was pretty much over, and she was looking like a jaundiced Jabba the Hutt when I saw her last Saturday. I got the call Tuesday she'd died after her liver had given out, and her heart had stopped working properly, and was not surprised. I was shocked at being asked to read maudlin, terrible poetry at the funeral, but sucked it up, compromised principles and taste, and made the family happy by doing it (though I'm still resentful I wasn't allowed to read the bit of Whitman's "Crossing Brooklyn Ferry" I thought suited, but as the little bro said, they wanted sentiment and no depth). I feel like I should feel worse than I do, but I don't. Not sure if that makes me cold or terrible or just pragmatic.
Campaign craziness is still ongoing at work. I've now been the woman responsible for the results ticker the last two primary nights, which has gone pretty well, but has been somewhat exhausting. Of course, if I did't do things like sign myself up for 12 hours of overtime in one week, maybe I'd be less tired. But the goal is to get last year's debts paid off, and start planning for a truck and trailer so the pony and I can get out and doing more next year.
After several months of ongoing on-and-off right front hoof ouchiness, I got fed up, called the vet, and said I wanted to block and x-ray it and figure out what the hell's going on in there, so we can fix it and I can have a horse I can ride. So we did that, which was pretty nifty, because I got to play x-ray tech and hold the panel for the digital x-ray machine. Also, because Cally's the best patient ever and fell asleep with her foot on the x-ray box. Turns out she's got thin soles, and thusly a slightly inflammed coffin bone. She got a snazzy cushy pad on the foot, some isoxsurpine, and voila, four days later, a happy sound pony. A $20 piece of polymer seems like a small price to pay for a rideable horse. Since then we've actually been riding somewhat consistently, and I mailed in entries for a tiny, starter-leve CT on June 15th. That should be fun :)
Not so good news on the ailing grandmother front. Of course, immediate family ignores recommendations to go to GW or Hopkins for treatments of the confusing, vaguely diagnosed and poorly treated illness. By the time she made it to Hopkins, it was pretty much over, and she was looking like a jaundiced Jabba the Hutt when I saw her last Saturday. I got the call Tuesday she'd died after her liver had given out, and her heart had stopped working properly, and was not surprised. I was shocked at being asked to read maudlin, terrible poetry at the funeral, but sucked it up, compromised principles and taste, and made the family happy by doing it (though I'm still resentful I wasn't allowed to read the bit of Whitman's "Crossing Brooklyn Ferry" I thought suited, but as the little bro said, they wanted sentiment and no depth). I feel like I should feel worse than I do, but I don't. Not sure if that makes me cold or terrible or just pragmatic.
Campaign craziness is still ongoing at work. I've now been the woman responsible for the results ticker the last two primary nights, which has gone pretty well, but has been somewhat exhausting. Of course, if I did't do things like sign myself up for 12 hours of overtime in one week, maybe I'd be less tired. But the goal is to get last year's debts paid off, and start planning for a truck and trailer so the pony and I can get out and doing more next year.