Catch up Monday

Paige is sick. She has the sinus infection, or the flu, or something that is kicking her ass. And you know it must be bad, since she hates people who speak in the third person, and here she is doing it.

I thought I was sick when I kept waking up sweating last nite, but it was only 60 degrees in the house. And of course, I could never get back to sleep, so I ended up watching a whole bunch of episodes of "17 and Counting". That is what usually happens when I have to get up early for something, and today I had a vet appointment at 7:00.

When the alarm went off, I begged and pleaded Barry to go and leave me alone to sleep, but he did not believe me that I was sick. He thought I just wanted to stay in bed. I may have cried even, but it did not work. He was on the not so great husband list this morning, and I guarantee you that he does not care.

I went to the vet, where it was not even 4o degrees, and still I was sweating. Two preg checks that confirmed things are as they should be (Fuzzy is NOT pregnant, but Diablo still is, hallelujah). Yay for that deal. By the time I got home, I was so worn out, I emailed my work and went to bed---no reason to torture me and everyone else when I felt so crappy.

I mostly slept and sweated all day. I needed to sleep more and sweat less, and I needed someone to shoot those dogs next door--what could they possibly need to bark about so much?

Today is my mom's birthday so I had to get up to go out to dinner. On the way, we stopped at the farm to feed, and we had enough time that Barry could work on Mojo's first loading by design attempt.

Mojo had his first lesson on loading in the trailer because someone told you to, instead of because that is where the food is. I did not know what to expect from this, as he can be one obstinate dude. He was wary at first, and I wondered if perhaps we should set up his pen so that he knew he was stuck and maybe would be more willing.
It did not come to that though. Within just a few minutes he was happily checking things out on his own.
And before I knew what was going on, he put a foot right up in there.

Then some more feet went right up in there. All in. And he is a great backer -outer. He loaded three or four or five times, getting better with each attempt. Barry is really good at teaching horses to load, but I did not expect it to be this easy with him. For his reward, he got turned back out instead of being stalled again for more work tomorrow.


I gave Diablo her PK1 shot, and had Fuzzy returned to her pasture. That was all I had in me--I was not even doing the work, just telling everyone what to do, and I was sweating.

We met mom and dad for dinner at Pasta House, where I had the craziest thing happen. I only ordered garlic bread and soup, since I think sick people eat soup, but I could not even chew my bread without my jaw or my ear or something go berserk--it felt like I was being shot in the head. Turns out I was not, but it sure is miserable feeling like this.

I have many funny things from the meal to report, but this typing is making me sweat.

Maybe tomorrow