Gloomy and Gross.

That seemed to be the theme for the weekend.

Friday, I actually did get off of work early enough to get in about a twenty-ish minute ride.  It was dark, of course, by the time I finished.  BO came to feed and was carrying a stack of firewood back through the pasture to her house across the street.  She made a point to tell me that she was walking slowly with this wood so as to not spook my horse.  Just as I wanted to tell her that unless she started waving the firewood at his face, he'd be fine... her dog bolts by us, with two more dogs on his tail.  So.. Archie spooks.

After the ride, the hubs took me to see Breaking Dawn.  I thought it was phenomenal and I don't want to give away any secrets, but I will say that parts of it made me want to vomit.  Or cry.  Maybe vomit and cry.  (I sorta want to go see it again.. like, tomorrow.)

Saturday, we took the little monsters to the vet's office.  I will say that my previous employment and subsequent friendship with the staff is the only reason we were seen half an hour before scheduled appointments on a Saturday.  Saturdays suck at the vet's.  Anyways, clean bill of health, nice little monsters, absolute joy to be mauled by.

Aphrodite (who needs a nickname) watching the door.
Then it was taking the kittens home, fiddle-farting around (ie, falling asleep while a documentary is playing and waking up with my ear throbbing because D's favorite couch that we can't get rid of until we buy a house has horrible edges in the arm), and then running errands.  The normal:  shopping, lunch and cupcakes.  This was followed by me coming home and riding.  I feel for the Kid, I gave him a hard workout.  We did a bunch of trot work and then I decided that I wanted to actually lunge him.  I never lunge him.  Like, ever.  Like the last time was back in January.  But I wanted to focus on him figuring out his new, adjusted body with a better topline at the canter... without me fucking him up.  But I also wanted it to be a little hard, so we did it on the one "incline" that we've got.  The consensus is that he's funky in the back end still.  I have included video.  :)  Cross canter much?

After that, he got a nice walking cool down through the woods and the meadow.  I kept his saddle on so he could still have the effects of the saddle pad, though.

Then it was home to figure out what we would be doing for dinner and a nice, quiet night out.

Sunday, I surprised the man by saying that I wanted to go to the gym.  That.. was painful.  We focused on legs.  I've got another run coming up in two weeks, which I haven't trained for at all, so I hopped on the treadmill to pound out a mile.  My goal was to do two miles at a 6% incline, but dammit.  My legs and hips protested.  So it was a mile at between 3 and 6%.  Then we did alternating squats and calf raises.  I've never focused much on weighted squats, because Shaun T taught me so much about cardio squats, but the husband loves them.  He also likes the Smith Machine - which, if you aren't a gym rat, is this little contraption that helps hold the barbell in linear fashion, with safety stops along the way up and down.  Anyways, the best I got was two 45s and the bar.  Considering we've never really focused on it, I'm pretty pleased with 90+ lbs.

After the gym... uh.. oh, grocery shopping.  Cooking lunch.  Eating lunch.  Taking a nap.  A ten-minute bareback ride on Archie.  Since I worked the big muscles so hard the day before, I wanted something light and more controlled.  We got rained out.
Lurves my Tipperary.
Then I went and photographed about twenty-five animals.  I had assistants this time, which was both great and crappy.  They were excellent at capturing the dogs' attentions, but no one ever seemed to grasp that I need the attention on me - hands with treats were always too far over and too high up, so all the pictures look a little weird.
Sad news:  Ares and Apollo were both returned.  Apollo twice.  :(
Immediately after the photo session, I had our last soccer game.  The games are normally at four, but this one was pushed to six because of another tournament.  It was horrible.  It was cold and raining and we got our asses kicked.  Oh, I also accidentally hit another girl in the face.  I really have to work on that.  Husband came and watched and noted my improvement on the field.  I kicked balls.  :)
Can you tell that I have the feverish glow of being soaking and
red-hot exercised?
The day ended by nachos and beer, cooking (and burning) my first-ever rum cake (which I think has too much rum, and that's saying something), and uploading all sixty of my photos to email to the Humane Society.  Long day.

Toasty rum cake.  Guarantee that it will be eaten.
Ps.  Certainly didn't use the fine Malibu behind it - Baccardi Gold.

You Might Also Like


  1. YAY weighted squats, boo returned kittens.

    1. I almost didn't tell my husband because I didn't want him to bring home the ones that stayed. :(

      And yeah, I'm walking misery right now. My quads are dying.

    2. How could someone return something so cute?

      ...Literally, how the hell do you return a kitten? They're kittens. Cute and hilarious and bad. And those kittens are REALLY cute. Outweighs the naughty.

      I've long since told my cats (mostly Mr Pants, but Chuck Stanfield too) that if they had different owners, they'd be tossed out in the streets. But they're family, and you don't "return" family.

    3. So, the story I got (and, again, I fucking love having these connections with organizations that enables them to tell me things and do things for me): Ares and Apollo were initially adopted together. The family that adopted them realized a few days later that their son (the "owner" of the cats) wasn't old enough to handle the responsibility... SO THEY RETURNED HIS KITTENS! Hello, therapy.
      Then Apollo (Siamese) was adopted. Common cat sense tells you not to toss a new rando into a formed pride. They hissed and spat the entire night, so the new owner returned him in the morning. Prior to his return, though, Ares was adopted again. So, no chance of them going together this time. (The HS did mention that these cats are making them a lot of money - no refund policy.)

  2. Rory for Aphrodite? Had to skip to the end to comment... back to read the rest of your post, haha.

    1. Love it! It's hard for me to say, but I think it's got a nice sound to it and is definitely easier than Aph-ro-di-te. And I didn't want to call her Aphro or Dity. :)