Winter blues and senioritis

Well, I sure don’t keep up with a blog very well, do I? Oh well.

Things have been really busy during my last two semesters of college, especially with the writing project I did in fall semester, which culminated in a public reading. So I’ve been doing enough writing in the last nine months that one extra project isn’t something I’ve really needed to keep track of, plus running out of hay for the livestock and keeping up with what I call my geriatrics patients. They consist of my grandmother (age 85), a blind half Appaloosa half Belgian mare (age 25), a deaf part-Rottweiler dog (age 18), and various other animals of varying ages and intelligence levels. Actually, other than being more forgetful than most (like Max the 18-year-old dog who gets up, hobbles to the door, then can’t remember why he got up in the first place), the geriatrics patients are probably the easiest to get along with.

So other than the usual winter blues, some serious spring fever, and a case of seniroitis, things are good at the Barclay farm, just happy blustery days, Pooh, as my mother used to say.