Whew! I am pooped. Today I went to school for what I thought would be a couple of hours. Just to turn in my stuff and sign the checkout form and be released for the summer, except for the inservice day that I'm not allowed to attend tomorrow. Too bad, so sad. I have the sick days for it.
Imagine my surprise when I was there for three hours. I was shaky and weak by then. This was my first major outing since my recent unfortunate hospitalization. The Pony went with me to be my labor. He put away about a hundred books, hauled out a plethora of bendy-straw towers, tossed a pile of trash papers, and stowed away stuff on top of my cabinets. He's a much better worker than the #1 son used to be. More attention, less backtalk. I'm compensating him with a computer game of his choosing.
I had several well-wishers drop by to see with their own eyes that Mrs. Hillbilly Mom is still kickin'. Nine, to be exact. Considering that we only have twenty, and part of those are travelers who were at Basementia, and others dwell at the opposite end of the hall and didn't even know I came in...I'd say I had a good turnout. Arch Nemesis was my most fervent commiserator. We had a good chat.
I'm glad this day is behind me. Now I'm off to the doctor again tomorrow.
As we came up the gravel road, The Pony looked at the neighbor's horse and seven-year pony. That's the one the #1 son once declared, "How can he still be a pony? He's at least seven years old!" Yeah. Not a genius on the topic of equines, that one. So, my little Pony said, "Aww...that pony is covered with winter fur. He needs somebody to brush him." Let the record show that The Pony had already stated that he did not think he would get our minipony out today, because of the rain clouds and it not being good swimming pool weather when he was done. That's how he spent yesterday afternoon.
When T-Hoe turned into our driveway, The Pony said, "I'm going to take the stuff in, then I'm getting our pony out. I'm not swimming, though." He spent over thirty minutes walking Barry/Red/Boy around on a rope. I'm pretty sure he brushed that little beast again, too.
The minipony is going to miss The Pony when he is gone three weeks to his Missouri Scholars Academy. But he won't miss The Pony nearly as much as I will miss The Pony.