Life gets in the way of writing. You’ve probably heard that phrase more often than
you change your underwear. Unless you…well, nevermind. That’s not the direction
I want to go with this blog.
Yesterday I had all intentions of sitting down and making huge strides at finishing my
second book. But of course, fate has a way of picking the days that my muse
gets locked up in her closet…with padlocks…several of them.
I took a break and went outside to bring the horses in from their pastures. Three of
them came in with no problem. Stetson, my beloved Paint gelding had a problem. He was
acting really weird, was reluctant to move his hind end and whinnied a baby
whinny…when he did that, I got pretty worried. He hasn’t done that since he was
a young foal. At that point I knew something was painfully wrong. I called my
vet, was told to give him Banamine, which is an anti-inflammatory, wait two
long hours and call back. By this time my worry meter was well into the red
zone. Write? Are you kidding me?
I must’ve walked back and forth to the barn to at least a half dozen times during
that period check on him. When the time came to return the call, Stetson was slightly
better. He would lift his head a tad higher than when I initially brought him
in, but was still dragging his hooves. Okay, the vet will see him this
afternoon. Write? Oh, please.
Four hours later, Jen pulls in. She looked at his eyes, listened to his heart, lungs
and gut, flexed all his joints and yanked on his tail. Finally she looks at me
and says, “You’ve trained him to be so stoic, I can’t get any pain reaction out
of him. But I think he tweaked his back.” Stall rest, pain meds, massages,
maybe hand walking in a couple of days. Write? Don’t make me laugh.
After I put the horses up for the night, I went up to the house. Linda was just getting
home. “I need a walk,” I told her. I put bug spray on me and the dogs, grabbed
my camera and off we went. It’d gotten a little humid out, so we took it easy.
Well, I did. The dogs were bouncing about with glee that we were going for a
run-run. Them, not me. They run, I walk, fast, to keep up with them.
We got to the marsh and I looked around. There, growing among the wild bee balm were a
couple spikes of cardinal flower. Every year I look for this bright red flower…last
year I missed it because I was laid up from knee surgery. Hummingbirds
pollinate the cardinal flower, but it was too late in the day to see any of the
little feathered ‘bees.’ I snapped a few pictures and on we went.
For the first time all day, I felt like laughing.
And suddenly life wasn’t getting in the way anymore.