some recent observations:

• when you haven't packed your breeches and boots because you think you're not going to ride your horse (and you've just done all the laundry and haven't put them back in the car), but then you get to the barn and you really want to ride your horse, you can ride in old athletic shorts and knee high socks and borrowed paddock boots. without breeches your shorts will ride up to the point of being scandalous and you will stick to the saddle in ways you never thought possible. it will be hard to keep your toes in the stirrups because you're so stuck to the saddle leather you can't lengthen your legs any farther, so you can either shorten them a ridiculous amount or, better, drop them altogether. strangely, riding with basically no pants works your muscles totally differently than riding in breeches.

• it's ten degrees colder in the music library than anywhere else in the opera building and unfortunately drinking copious amounts of powdered cocoa from the break room will temporarily make you warmer. somehow this seems marginally better than cookies but actually I doubt it.

• running in a track meet when you are 31 and have been injured almost consistently for 2 years is an extreme lesson in humility, particularly when you're competing against 14-year-olds. (notably, however, in the 100m you still have them all beat).

- related: my memories of competing in high school track -- being a lithe, unbreakable 16-year-old; snapping around the turn in the 200m; breaking the school records in three events; passing the baton to our relay anchor while yelling STICK! as loud as possible -- conveniently fail to include the debilitating shin splints I suffered part of sophomore and all of junior year, which were severe enough that I was allowed by my doctor to run one last meet (the state meet, where my 800m relay team took 4th place) and was then instructed to take an extended leave from running, because I was a hair's breadth away from fracturing my fibula.



- also related: my mile time is at least 30 seconds slower than last year, which is not even remotely a surprise, considering that I am topping out at six miles a week and basically haven't run with any consistency since november. that said, I still feel disappointed in my lack of superhero powers. hence: lesson in humility.

• procrastination is hilarious. doing a complete inventory of the music library has been on my to-do list for all seven seasons I've worked here, but it felt too monumental to take on mid-production and there have always seemed to be more important things to do. but then I had to pull five or six sets of parts out to prep for next fall's gala and I thought, why not? and in the end the full inventory of everything we own took just two and a half days. that is ridiculous.

(the elegant way of remembering which classes you entered)




horse show yesterday. our first time off the property in two years. as usual, on Friday night Cookie was a nervous wreck, terrified of all the new sights and sounds. my heart clenched; I remember being a little kid, scared at my first sleepover. she was well-behaved, for the most part, on Saturday, with a few explosions in some of our later classes. but I didn't scratch any of them and we won four riding ribbons and a halter ribbon, marking the first time I've won more ribbons than she has. "he really liked you," I said to her after placing fourth in one of the big equitation classes, as we walked back and forth outside the arena, waiting for our next one. "or actually, come to think of it, I guess he liked me."

I came home at 8 after 13 hours at the show. I was light-headed from fatigue and dropped to bed at 10. today I am not terribly sore (miraculously) but so tired I can't even make myself drive to the garden to pick lettuce. thank god for sundays.