Maybe Not

'Wish me luck
Give me somethin'
Help me out
And I'll go there...
All I want is a brand new truck
One eyed Jacks & beginner's luck
The doctor's script for the perfect drug
Get it all while I can
But I got no money & I got no man
I drive around in a beat up van
I ride on coffee & Percodan
Get it all while I can
Is that too much to ask
Is that too much to ask'

Is That Too Much to Ask — Beth Hart
From the 1999 album Screamin' For My Supper

My Saturday plans crashed and burned before they ever got off the ground. I picked up the dog crate with Martha in it and was too lazy to open both halves of the double doors to the bedroom. I held the crate out in front of me to fit through one door, and, imperceptibly at the time, tweaked my back. It's not imperceptible anymore. I have pain meds but can't take them and put two thoughts together much less drive, and I have to go to work today.

A 'mild cold front' has moved in, dropping the temps from triple digits to the low-mid 90s. Don't laugh, it really does make a difference. I researched the horse trails at Lake Ray Roberts. My plan was to get up early tomorrow and walk one of the shorter trails. Nita was to join me, and I thought I'd bring Martha. I thought next time Nita and I could bring a couple horses, tack them up and walk it again with them, then ride next trip. That may seem excessively cautious, but neither my horses nor I have that kind of experience. Jaz would probably do fine, but even he sometimes goes stupid on me. Poco ... well, there's no telling. He could be fine or he could want me to carry him. He's usually okay as long as his nose is in Jaz's butt.

But that's not going to happen. I know it's still a day away, but this ain't my first time at this rodeo. Wouldn't be prudent to walk that far.

Maybe Sunday. Or not.

Middle age is not for sissies.