Pondering going out to check again. Just in case.

I really shouldn't complain in my blog.  Nobody likes to hear complaining.  But you guys pretty much get a dump of what is going on going on inside my head on any given day, so I guess that's your lot.

Today was one of those days where I was just very frustrated.  With my unhealed injury, with my horse, with my job.  Not for any good reason, either.  It's not like any of those (except maybe the injury) has really changed.  I was just less able to deal with it today.

I stopped at the farmer's market (BTW, JD, we have 3 fujis and 4 pink ladys) and got a tiny little apple pie.  I got it because Jack got one last week and it looked good, and also recently the Thursday donuts are all gone by the time I get there.  The apple pie was disappointing, as it was mostly dough and very little apple.  Inevitable when it's about 2" across, I guess.  Otherwise what would hold the apples in?  After my unsatisfying pie, I decided to make a hot beverage despite the steamy temperatures.  As I walked down to the hot pot, I found that the Thursday donuts were not, actually, all gone.  So I also had half a fritter.  Diet?  What diet?

As the day went on I got more and more frustrated with myself.  Things that should have been easy (such as configuring an ancient redhat box to lock logins after a number of failures using pam) just weren't.  Eventually I decided that work wasn't happening.  I opened up my timesheet app and found that so far this year, I've used 3.5 hours of leave for illness, and 40 for hiking.  Counting Christmas vacation and my trip to Maine, I will still have many hours left over.  Somewhere I made a math error (not today, I hope.)  I decided I could spare four hours, and I got the hell out of there.

A nap might have suited but I had needs.  So I stopped by My Organic Market (locally known as MOM's) for Traumheel, because the tube I ordered a week ago from Amazon still isn't here and my butt also has needs.  Poor injured butt.  Also I got some snacks because have you noticed there is an eating theme today?

Then I trekked down to Upper Marlboro and visited the Southern States for all my horsecrap (TM).  Fly spray, a new short lead rope, a small towel for wiping fly spray onto ornery horse's head, a new fly mask, yadda yadda.

Southern states.  Fly spray, tomatoes, and round bale feeders.  Just the essentials for our modern needs.

Then I drove the short distance to the farm to check on Pluto after last night's badness extravaganza.  I did this from a distance:

Talk to the butt, woman. 

Pluto evidently has a strong memory of the evening.

I called him to me for a while.  He did, eventually, approach.  Then a freaking ground hog or something rattled the bushes behind me and Pluto was gone.  Yay.

I gave up on getting him out of the field.  And he was obviously moving fine.  And extremely alert.  It was windy, which might have been an excuse, but I noticed that Mystery (in the field with him) was unconcerned.  I went back, gathered up everything I needed, and walked back out to him in the field.  He didn't help out, but he let me halter him.  And he stood there like a statue while I put on his antibiotic cream and fly sprayed him, and took off his halter and put on his new fly mask - which, btw, is too small in the ears.  Again.  Note to self:  do not be suckered in by the normal sized products in the store.  Nose too big, ears too big.

He politely took a couple of treats from me, but he didn't ask for any more.  Unheard of.  And I did not have an escort to the car.

So, you could say we're working on our relationship.

At home, I found out that the happy hour we were going to had kind of disintegrated.  Which was partly our fault for not positively rsvping.  Sigh.  But we went anyway, and we found that we in fact have a neighborhood bar.  I've lived here 12 years and I did not know this.  I have often wished we had a neighborhood bar.  How on earth did I miss it?  Well, now we have a bar.  And it has fairly cheap beer and food.  No decor to speak of, but I am not a complicated woman.  A couple of beers, some hot shrimp, and some hush puppies, and I am perfectly happy.  Except for the grumpiness factor, which I don't have most nights.

As we were finishing, Sergio called.  Pluto declined to eat his antibiotics with dinner tonight.  This was dose 19 out of 20.  I called the vet.  She said that seeing as how he is healing up, it's okay.  He doesn't have to have it, or dose 20 either.  I just hope it's Pluto being Pluto, and not Pluto having colic.