Today has been rough. My period has made me feel rather below par, physically, and it was as much as I could do to drag my body along to yoga this morning (although I am glad I did). On the way out of the driveway I discovered one of next door’s agisted horses had escaped again and was trotting down towards our gate, hoping for access to a free buffet. Of course, I’d left my mobile in the house, and I needed to tell DH to be sure to shut the gate when he left, so I drove back, told him, and then got to yoga just before class started, feeling harried, rushed, and more than a bit cross with the horse situation.
On Monday the neighbour popped over to discuss the horse situation with me and he agreed they needed to leave, but told me he had spoken to the owner three weeks ago and the owner had been resistant to moving them off, and he’d done what he could to shore up his fences and allowed them into a second paddock for more feed. So you can imagine how I felt when that damn horse was out again this morning. Ropeable.
When I got home from yoga I had to get out in the rain and mud and open my gate so I could drive down the driveway. Only I couldn’t do that, because the horse was blocking my access and when I tried to shoo him off, he started lowering his head and pawing the ground. I got back in the car and moved it off the road, he backed off a bit, I tried to open the gate which was incredibly hard to move, the rain got heavier and my yoga pants got muddier and muddier and I gave up, and left the car where it was and walked down the driveway lugging my heavy shopping in the pouring rain.
I phoned the ranger and left a message and then steeled myself for another outing. We have some friends away for a month and we are checking their chooks and feeding their fish twice a week. I had to go today because it had been five days and I couldn’t leave it any longer. This required a complete change of clothes and shoes I was willing to get covered in muddy chook shit. It also required a change of car. The ute is taking forever to warm up at the moment, so it kept stalling on me as I tried to manuever it up an incline and through a tight squeeze. Remember, I can’t get out my driveway, so I have to go through the eye-high weed-filled paddock, to use another gate. Luckily it’s already in 4WD and although it churns up the grass and makes a mess of my beautifully mowed back garden area, it gets me safely through the weeds, and I only get a bit wet doing the in-and-out-of-car-through-the-gate-in-and-out-of-car shuffle. Our friends only live 5 mins away, and the fish feeding and chook checking doesn’t take long and presents no dramas. Thank the Lord.
I get home, have a quick bite to eat, and the ranger turns up. I explain the horse situation, give him my neighbours’ mobile phone number (which I have finally managed to drag out of him after five years) and the horse owner’s name, and leave him to sort it out. He puts the horse back in the paddock, and leaves my gate open, so I can get my car back down the driveway, but I worry a bit about whether the horse will escape and find his way into our yard.
I look at my long list of housework for the day. I say ‘fuck that’, put two heatbags in the microwave (one for my lower back, one for my feet) and take myself off to bed for a nap. Then I have my therapy session and another good cry or two. I feel well rested and ready to tackle making roast chicken dinner. Now I am just about to eat it.
And I’ve made it through another day.
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