Friday, November 18, 2016

I killed the jam

What I did: ran out of ideas. 

What I did beforehand: 13 days of blogging every day. 

What I wore: pajamas, then Sweaty Betty yoga pants, then riding clothes, then jeans, because it was one of those days.

My friend S. and her horse R.

Who went with me: Schwartz, then my Pilates teacher, then my friend S., then the dogs

How I stopped writing my feelings about the election: ^A then ^X

Why I ran out of ideas: 19 likes to talk about infinity, and I believe that our universe is fundamentally finite, even if it is comprised of two trillion galaxies. In a finite universe, I do not have infinitely many ideas.

Where I sat: kitchen barstool, driver’s seat, pilates reformer, driver’s seat, saddle, driver’s seat, kitchen barstool

Things that were sad: after my post about bread a few days ago, several people who work or ride at the barn where I go pointed out that because they work out of the other side of the barn they never get any of the bread that I bring. In the interest of fairness I decided to bake some more this week and take half to one side and half to the other side. As a result, someone who especially enjoys the bread noticed that I had brought less to their side, and wondered why there wasn’t more. 

Things that were funny/not funny: I got nothing here. Zilch. Nada. Niente. Nenio. Rien. Zip. Zero. Zot.

Oh, wait. S. reminds me there were loose dogs in the woods. The first charged us. Alone, and quite separate from its owner, it barked aggressively. Hado stood quietly, as did S.'s horse. The dog's owner called its name with irritation in her voice, offering cookies. We got no apology, and congratulated ourselves for not letting our horses kill the dog with a swift kick to the head. 

Something I ate: peanut butter and jelly on freshly made semolina bread. This was when I killed the jam. 

What it is: time to walk the dogs

Shadow Selfie with dogs

Who should see it: come back tomorrow. You never know.

What I saw on the way home: dead mouse

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