Barn Pixie

I don't much like February. I hate the potholes, and the mysterious lumps of ice that are attached to the roads in shady places, and the way the snow that melted during the (admittedly charming) warmth of the day makes black ice that causes massive painful wipeouts in the early morning. The warmth is nice, although it is a snare and a delusion - not actually warm enough to take off the long underwear, for instance, although certainly warm enough to sweat through it when you  I decide it is still cold enough to need it. I like that the sun feels like something instead of nothing much. I dislike the grubby snow, and what feels like eternal gray skies. I am whiny today.

I did ride, it was a nice lesson, but even my beloved tank pony was slithering on the ice in one corner of the ring. We just went really slow.
I did, not one, but two (!) fabric bits
I had a yoga/pilates class ( I just cannot bring myself to type Yolates, or Yogalates, or any of those options) for exercise
I forgot to set supper to cook in the oven, so we had freezer pizza for supper.

Why does riding make me so tired? I can do stuff at the Y and finish feeling stretched and glowing and healthy and smug. I ride one horse and feel a little droopy, (happy but tired) - two and you can tip me over with a sharp exhale. Is it really that much effort on my part? I can't imagine doing Glenatron's month, riding several a day and doing other things on top of it. Although I can only suppose one toughens up. And sleeps all day Sunday, I hope.