So . . . after three days of working my sweaty way over white and melting, then crunchily ice-limned, then slushy, and occasionally just muddy, ground, I have decided that early spring is not a time I like to be in Northern Idaho. All I can do with the horses is watch them walk by (or groom them, which I may do tonight, although, meh), and yet the dogs need huge amounts of exercise ANYWAY, and they seem to need it from me (i.e. an audience is necessary), and so there I am, hobbling and crunching and sliding my way up and down wet, snowy hills, wearing snowshoes that occasionally become splatchers. I know it’s excellent exercise for the dogs, particularly Spackle, who really has to use his aging and somewhat debilitated hips, and who is obviously enjoying himself so much that the struggle isn’t a struggle. It’s all fun for him. Hoover launched himself into barbed wire today and yelped like a puppy, but got himself out (which was good because it would’ve taken me at least ten minutes to plow through the 25 feet of drifts separating us—that’s the distance, not the depth, which is almost embarrassingly small for the amount of effort it requires.). He left drops of blood in the snow if he stood still long enough, but as that happened a total of one times during our outing, and the rest of the time he was leaping about, I decided not to worry.
It was bright out today, too—not sunny per se, enough to actually use sunnies—and much of what I see in the brightness are some floaters in my right eye, resulting from the injection of Decadron I had there two weeks ago. I don’t really notice the floaters when I’m inside, or when I’m looking at colors, but they are QUITE obvious against a backdrop of pure, glowing white. Plus (I’m looking out the dining room window right now), as the snow ages it becomes discolored—by mud, but also by pile after pile of dog poop and seemingly endless piss holes in the snow. It’s not pretty.
For the first time that I can remember, I am feeling much more like I’m doing K&A a favor than that they are doing me one by letting me be out here. But that’s okay—I am thrilled that they get to go to Australia for the first time ever, and I really am one of the best, if not THE best, person to care for this place in their absence. And Hoover’s continuous joy out here, regardless of whether or not horses are involved, does give me (however begrudgingly) joy as well.
But don’t expect another series of posts from here (this series will continue) until June at the earliest.