When I've mentioned to my dear hubby that I'd like such-and-such to visit or why don't we invite so-and-so over, I normally get the response of "No."  Emphatic no, at that.

It's not that he's antisocial or introverted or anything like that, really.  He just sincerely enjoys his privacy.  I remember, as a kid, never, ever going in to his house.  We've had a friend of mine over a couple of times, but primarily just as I finish getting ready to go out.  When I've offered up the idea of (buying a grill and then) cooking out with company, I get shot down pretty quick, too.  He banks on the fact that we live in a tiny townhouse and don't have the room outside to entertain.

Actually, thinking about it, I don't think that he likes crowds.  I'm not a giant fan of a mass of people, but I see the appeal.  I like hosting.  But on those occasions that we've gone out with other couples, it is almost painful to get him to engage the other men in conversation.  Never happens.  ...He only has ever seemed to warm up to my single female friends.  Huh.


Imagine my surprise when he agrees to let someone that neither of us have ever met stay for a few days.  It's almost like couch-hopping, but I know her father.  And she's not doing it recreationally, but rather for educational purposes.

A veterinarian with whom I worked in Augusta contacted me because his aforementioned daughter is interested in becoming a physician assistant.  He asked if she could come down one day and shadow D.  After checking with my little pariah, I told him that his daughter was welcome to come and could stay with us.  Our first non-family guest!  I hope she's not the last.

I love entertaining.  Seriously.

She's going to come in tomorrow night and shadow D on Thursday (surgery) and Friday (clinic).  I told her that she was welcome to stay Friday night and be a tourist on Saturday.  What do I care?

We've been frantically cleaning for the last few days - trying to see the cluttered little townhouse from an outsider's eyes.  I have a lot of crap.  I should close my eyes and start purging.  And I've been sewing, straightening, napping when I'm supposed to organize my closet.  We keep a litter box upstairs in the bathroom in a space cut into the cabinetry.  It's always been an eye-sore, but I never knew what to do about it.  So, last night, I made little kitty curtains.

I'm hoping to skip working out tonight under the excuse of finishing up the guest room.  D is a very methodical person, but he doesn't have the aesthetic eye that I do.  Knick-knacks will be meticulously dusted and cleaned, but they'll be set down in almost a precise order, rather than grouped and arranged for visual appeal.  Yay, men.

In the horse-news, I rode the Archman bareback last night for about twenty minutes.  The ride itself was unremarkable.  And today, he got his feeters did.  I left a note on the check to cut his toes shorter and when I went to check on him later, it looks like the guy listened.  By week six, Archie trips over those damn toes.  Vet also said it would be better for the ring bone issue to have a shorter break over.


Is that a blood bruise on his hoof?

I sure hope it's a tilt in the camera that makes this appear so oddly balanced.
I gots dirty fly boots.
It's a foot.
Shorter toe (though.. could be shorter, right?) with a little rounding.

You Might Also Like