(Like so many things, I managed to drop the ball on actually staying on top of this on a daily basis. Shocking, I know.)
Day Fifteen: Fuzzy, kissable pony faces! (Even though she says “Please don’t kiss me, Mom, you know I hate that.”) Seriously, though. Super cheerful and well-behaved for hoof trimming and arena schooling.
Day Sixteen: Sofie learning how to play with Artemis and toys.
Day Seventeen: Artemis’s spay surgery was a breeze! (Keeping her quiet for the next week+, however…)
Day Eighteen: Scheming and plotting future ride potential and plans with friends.
Day Nineteen: A quiet day to keep an eye on Artemis.
Day Twenty: *BINGO* day.
Day Twenty-One: Fun times at The Hoof & Hound Expo — I get to do expo and convention stuff for work.
Day Eight: One of the two dogs actually likes getting a bath.
Day Nine: Work innovation and experimentation.
Day Ten: Mixed blessing? The street getting unnecessarily repaved again motivated me to finally get the dead truck hauled over to the mechanic. Been putting it off, knowing the answer is likely to be $$$, but better to finally know and go about coming up with a plan for how to deal with/solve it.
Day Eleven: Veterans Day. Those that served and continue to serve.
Day Twelve: When you find out your truck needs $5k worth of repairs, it becomes one of those days where you’re pretty much just grateful you didn’t keel over/pass out from shock/heart attack/futility-and-hopelessness. Also, boozy-and-marshmallowy hot chocolate season.
Day Thirteen: Parental units that are good sounding boards and advice givers…and to personally have the willingness to ask for/take advice.
Day Fourteen: Fuzzy socks and bed-warmer dogs.
The Challenge: Every day for the month of November, find something to be grateful for during the day, particularly during moments I might otherwise normally grumble about. It doesn’t have to be a novel or daily memoir, just a sentence or two will suffice.
Day One: To have Mimi boarded at a place that provides excellent care and a good lifestyle for her, even during my own phases of riding-lite. The kind of care and turnout she gets allows me to feel not too guilty about the times when I don’t make it down as often as I should.
Day Two: Customers calling in with questions and orders = job security.
Day Three: Easy access to the dirt-surface canal paths for walking/running/taking the dogs out means I’m not relegated to sidewalks and neighborhood streets.
Day Four: Rainy morning really makes it feel like a proper fall day.
Day Five: Friends that help encourage, guide, and support me.
Day Six: Funky exercise apparel that makes me smile. Sometimes it really is the little things in life.
Day Seven: A really good relationship with my parents, the fact we see eye-to-eye on so much of life, and that we all enjoy each other’s company. A quick “pop my head into the office with a brief comment on something horse-related” turned into a lose-track-of-time, highly entertaining regaling of all kinds of horse tales, future plans, and lots of laughter.