Flo

It seems on most days, I can easily create a list of all I’ve done, accomplished and achieved.   And typically, if I need to do that, my planner does it for me. Weekends, I prefer no listing on my Treo, and I resort to pieces of paper, Post-its, stuck on the end of the granite bar.  In reality, I’d like to get through my weekend without a list, without my brain saying “snow tires*pedicure*Target*Sunflower Market-> you really didn’t do much today” as if I need to measure*validate*prove how I spend my weekend time.  Today I created the “list”, hoping I’d have a little focus and not spend the entire day watching movies.  I did about 1/2 the list and many little things that didn’t make it on the list – rakes and shovels from the summer to and in the shed, tires to the barn, and my favorite, feed apples to the neighbor’s horses and miniature donkey.  This donkey is a funny creature, coming to the fence to ensure receiving apples she can’t eat in one bite.  She takes a bite, chews, then takes another bite.  Polite-like.  Meanwhile, the two not-so-polite horses come over to steal her apple.  This little miniature donkey is white with brown spots and the first time the white horse came to steal her apple, she turned around and kicked at his face, both back legs high in the air.  She’d show him. Unfortunately, the height of her back legs, full extension, is lower than his head and she lost her apple.  I ran back home, cut up another apple into pieces her size, hurdled the fence and hand fed them to her, while I was nudged on the backside by her sorrel pen-mate (I don’t really know if she’s “sorrel” or not, but I do know that’s a word indicating a horse color and I think it’s brown!). 

This is what really mattered in my day.  Not the laundry, the conference registration, the vacuuming or the research on HP portable printers – what really mattered, was the fresh air and feeling those little donkey lips (are they called “lips” on a donkey?) touching my palm as she nuzzled around for bits of apple.