Sunday, Oct. 28, Mid-morning: Hurricane? What hurricane? is what I'm thinking as I answer two different phone calls from people asking, "Are you still holding your Michael Barisone clinic?" Since it is a) not raining, b) not windy, and c) not that cold, and even if none of those things were true the clinic is d) indoors, I reassure them that yes, the show will indeed go on.
Monday, Oct. 29, 2 p.m.: I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY. Sandy, I misjudged you, and I'll never be cavalier about a hurricane again.
In all seriousness, we were very fortunate, as was virtually all of Northern Virginia. We had high winds and rain, and lots of trees down, which was very sad. We lost power for 24 hours, which is unusual for us - the valiant men and women of Rappahannock Electric Cooperative  normally have us up and running pretty quick - but even still we have a generator which keeps the well going and runs some crucial lights. There were trees blocking the way from Marshall and the interstate to us, so none of my students could make it out (even if they'd wanted to), but that was taken care of in 24 hours too. We're quite lucky.
Tuesday, Oct. 30, 10 a.m.: We're also QUITE bored. We've gotten all the horses out of their stalls, but the wind is still howling, and we still have no power, so Molly, Allison and I are going to work on a jigsaw puzzle.
10:30 a.m.: OK, this jigsaw puzzle is clearly broken.
Wednesday, Oct. 31, 3 p.m.: Back to normal! The sun came out! (well, for 10 minutes at least). The power came back on last night, we rode horses this morning, and roads were clear enough that my students could make it to us to ride, and now I'm in Middleburg, where I teach at a few private barns on Wednesday and Friday afternoons.
I'm on my way to one of these farms, on a dirt road, and as I come up the hill I see a gaunt, older gentleman holding a cigarette in one hand and a chainsaw in the other. He's clearing brush and fallen trees along the side of the road… or is he? Happy Halloween, indeed.
Thursday, Nov. 1, 10 a.m.: My horses are the biggest geniuses in the history of the world. Also, it is now wicked cold, and I'm the biggest pansy in the world and have whipped out my winter breeches . It needs to be Florida time STAT.
6 p.m.: Bad decision: watching the Food Network when dinner came out of a microwave. Insert massive inferiority complex here.
Friday, Nov. 2, 1 p.m.: MY JAMCO TRAILER  IS HERE!! MY NEW JAMCO TRAILER IS HERE!! Well, it's not HERE so much as it's at the dealership in Madison. And I can't pick it up today because I'm teaching until 5. And I can't pick it up tomorrow because they close at 2. And I can't pick it up Sunday or Monday because they're closed.
I whine very piteously about how I need the trailer Monday afternoon, which happens to be true, but that I really, truly cannot get there any earlier than 4 on Saturday, also true, and the kind people of Lucky B Trailer Sales  take pity on me and vow to stay open just for me. THEY ROCK. And because desperate means call for desperate measures, I pick up a dozen cookies from the Upper Crust Bakery in Middleburg as thanks, just in case. No one says no to cookies… including myself. Better make that a baker's dozen cookies.
Saturday, Nov. 3, 5:30 a.m.: FACT: well-pumps only fail when you have to be off the farm all day, when you've graciously let one of your two employees off for the weekend to visit family so you only have one employee, and when it's *&@#$! dark and @#$&*! cold. GAH. My amazing Allison and my amazing mom to the rescue, filling up our two giant water containers from a neighbor's farm and hanging buckets to keep all the horses safe. Might need a dozen more cookies.
4 p.m.: Well pump is repaired, a client and I had a great time in Pennsylvania looking at horses for her, and my trailer is SO BEAUTIFUL I COULD JUST DIE, except that if I died I couldn't drive it around and/or enjoy that NEW TRAILER SMELL, and so I will just have to survive a little while longer.
Sunday, Nov. 4, 4:30 a.m.: I am the only person on the planet who HATES daylight savings time in the fall. I have a hard enough time sleeping past 4 as it is, and now 4 is really 3. UGH. You know what's good on TV at 4:30 a.m. on a Sunday? Absolutely nothing.
6:45 a.m.: Oh, but being able to ride Fender, my first horse every morning, outside because the sun is up and I can see is pretty great.
8:45 p.m.: A great day with great students, great rides and gorgeous weather. Tomorrow, I've got pilates, acupuncture, chiropractor, haircut, vet and the grocery store, plus a pre-purchase to schedule for a client, appointments to see horses for sale for a second client, and, with any luck, a run.
But tonight, I've got a few hours of peace before I do it all again next week!