I overheard a conversation last week wherein one person wished another Happy New Year, then asked if there is a set time after which it is no longer acceptable to do so. They agreed that you should say Happy New Year the first time you see people that year, but not beyond the month of January. I made it: Happy New Year, dear blogger buddies!
You may have noticed (or not) that it's been awhile since I posted. There are a number of reasons for that. My dental emergency just before Christmas seems to have compromised my entire immune system, so it's been a battle to stay well and mobile. The prolonged period of inactivity has taken its toll on my creaky body, but I believe I'm finally on the upside of all that nonsense.
Work has been busy, and after writing for eight hours a day, the last thing I feel like doing when I get home is writing some more.
I haven't ridden since about Thanksgiving, either due to other commitments, stinky weekend weather, or just not feeling up to it.
If you look back over my posts since Daylight Savings Time kicked in, most of them are either subjects I've researched, or revolve around feeding time at Casa Fry. I commute an hour each way to my job. This time of year it's dark when I leave in the morning and close to it when I get home in the early evening. Whenever I am able, I cut out of work a few minutes early so I get to see the Boyz in a few minutes of daylight.
When I get home, I change my clothes, bundle up, and spend 45 minutes to an hour in my role as Cafeteria Lady, in good weather and bad. I have to stay with them until Daltrey is done eating so he gets his full portion of food. The ironic part about only seeing the horses to feed them during the week is that I'm actually spending more time with them on a consistent basis. What has surprised me is the quality of that time.
In the evenings, when Jaz and Poco have finished their token portions of food — neither of them need it — they hang out, waiting for the OK to finish the food Daltrey has flung. Jaz and I have a game we play. I'll be sitting in my chair, and Jaz will come up behind me and put his nose on the top of my head or one of my shoulders, and wiggle his nose. That's my signal to make a pinching motion in the air with my hand, and he puts his nose between my fingers, so I can gently grab it and wiggle it. If I try to ignore him, he will gently muss my hair or nibble my hat or hood. He loves this game.
Surprisingly, Poco is not as pushy at the waiting game as Jaz, who is stealthy and relentless. Poco finds a place close to me, and parks himself until I give the all-clear to grab the spoils. He likes to put his nose just next to my ear, or he'll put his head down so I can whisper in his ear, which he absolutely loves. He's not above a bit of gentle nuzzling to get my attention.
Most nights, the sun has already gone down by the time I get home, but sometimes I get lucky.
Actually, you know what? I'm lucky every darn day.