Eat your feelings

Yesterday marked up to 24 hours post-anesthesia and while I initially shrugged off the effects, yesterday morning showed me exactly what was up with my body. I got up fine, poured coffee on the counter instead of into my coffee mug, carried my mug up to the bedroom to feed Buster and sloshed it onto the stairs…

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Buster Bunny and the newly carpeted stairs.

Decided on wearing a different headband while I was doing my makeup, tossed my headband on the dresser, where it promptly slid behind the (super heavy, impossible for me to move) dresser. Shit!

Ok, moving on then. As we walked to the car (we went to vote yesterday AM before work), I was carrying both Ian and my travel coffee mugs and because I still didn’t have great hand-grip control, I immediately dropped his coffee on the pavement and it cracked open and spilled EVERYWHERE.

So, no coffee for the long-suffering husband yesterday morning.

We voted with no problems, and then I fell off the sidewalk going to the car. Smooth.

I figured I’d see how the rest of my day went, and when I found I could run on the treadmill without falling off it or killing myself, I was a-ok! I thought, good to run on the treadmill *requires coordination* then I was fine to drive to the barn and ride.

And it was totally fine, thank god. Phew! Oats was great, super amped and ready to work. Good pony. The weather wasn’t too bad, and I had an enjoyable and productive ride (no lesson, as I wasn’t sure how coordinated I’d be after anesthesia). He was focused, going forward, and we did a LOT of bend/counterbend with some struggle at the canter.

Love my pony!

Feeling really crummy today though. The side effects from the Mirena I had seem to be continuing, with intense cramping, bloating so grotesque that I look at least 5++ months pregnant, and some spotting. I feel so gross and miserable! I see what I am in the mirror right now, with an actual gut hanging over my shorts that I know is temporary and hormonal, and yet it still drives me nuts. GRRRRRRRR.

A ‘hare-y’ tale

Love this story- about a man and his Irish hare. A hare is not like a rabbit!

Lovely and heartfelt, thanks to my sister for sharing it with me:

A hare about the house, by Cecil S. Webb

Adorable!

Here is my rabbit a few years ago, exploring in the snow in Whitehorse, YT.

Buster exploring in the snow

Buster exploring in the snow

I have long had an affinity for rabbits…Grew up with a pretty wild dwarf rabbit named Nitchka, who had a guinea pig friend named Earl. They were pretty hilarious those two!

Buster digs deep

Buster digs deep

We had several other rabbits, but none lived as long as Nitchka, who was 10 years old when we put him to sleep- as he was declining rapidly, and blind.

Coming up for air

Coming up for air

Now I have a surly little dwarf named Buster Bunny, who is not a very friendly rabbit and kind of a jerk to strangers and my husband- but he likes me, and will eat Goldfish crackers out of my hand when I’m holding him!

He likes to hop around the house, he sometimes gets chased around by Gidget, our little dog, but he likes to sniff Gidget and will sometimes see if she wants to play too! We do have to watch them closely, as Buster is older than Gidget and gets tired easily. He needs his downtime more than she does.

Buster is like my hare about the house, though he would chew the house to splinters if he was allowed to live free-range in it!