From Wine to Music to Colonoscopies to Wild Rumpuses

Our barn room has continued to evolve. We have entertained friends in it twice now. The first get-together was for wine and appetizers. We called that it’s christening, and shared a bottle of Cayuse Syrah we had been saving. 

The second was a surprise visit from old friends who just wanted to stop by and catch up. They brought a feast from Jimmy Johns, along with cheesecake and many other snacks. They loved being out in the barn. It’s quirky, ...like we are. 

The most drastic evolution, however, was into a music room. 

It started with the flute, but was soon followed by one of my guitars. 

Shortly after that, I found the PERFECT spot for my electronic Kawai. Presto Musico. 

But it’s not all fun and games around here. Yesterday, I had a colonoscopy. 

If you haven’t had one, you probably think the actual colonoscopy is the worst part. 

It is not. (Though I am thankful, finally, for masks, as my attending physician wore one, and I hope to never recognize him in public.)

No, the hard part is what they call the prep. 

I’ll tell you what, that is a lot of work to get a procedure you already dread. Several times I almost quit, but by the end of the night, having starved all day and forced down 64 ounces of something like a laxative, I was committed. 

The next morning I woke at 5 am, forced down another 64 ounces before 7 am, and then waited. Lucky me, I didn’t have to wait long, because the office called early that morning, after having received TWO cancellations (no surprise, since I had been tempted to do the same myself) and hoped I’d come in early. 

Sure thing, because I was tired and hungry!

The rest was a cakewalk. (keyword: cake) I got the best 15 minutes of sleep in my life, and don’t remember one damn thing. 

I feel like I deserve a trophy. 

The day before the colonoscopy, I opened my eyes to find NO horses. 

My bed overlooks the turnout, and the first thing I see every morning is my horses. But not that morning. 

I told my husband it was strange. He was like, nah, it’s fine. 

But you know me, I’m a worry wart. 

I got out of bed and walked to the window, where I could get a better view of the barn and pasture, and there it was: Cowgirl was standing outside of the fence, near an open gate. They were all gone!

Five alarm fire, folks. 

Let me just say, there is a reason that we fence AND cross fence.

There had been a windstorm the night before and my husband had left the breezeway doors open so that the wind would blow through and not damage them. (In hindsight, not the best call.) Well, no surprise, the horses made their way into the barn where the hay and grain were stored. The barn remodel got a different sort of christening that night.

Oddly enough, and I suspect it was due to the enforcer, Beautiful Girl, the grain was barely eaten. Between 7 horses, only 1/4 a bag of whole oats was gone. There was the possibility only one horse had indulged, but that was unlikely, since no one was colicky at the after-party.

I traced their tracks, clear evidence of their adventures, left in actual hoof prints and manure piles, and they had made it all the way to the front gate by the road. They had also spent some time in the arena. 

It was a veritable wild rumpus.

When we got out there, they happily obliged to go back into their turnout.  (Irrefutable evidence they’d been out all night.)

I observed them for the rest of the day, and they were content lying in the sun, mutual grooming, drinking water, slowly, from the trough with a dreamy look in their eyes. They were quite proud of themselves.

Like I was, when I successfully completed the colonoscopy.

Though my reward was not a trophy, it was the choice of a meal, which come to think of it, was better than a trophy.

Those last friends who stopped by to see us in our barn room have a saying, and I’m pretty sure they invented it: Go big or go home!

The feast they brought that day was a massive sampling of Jimmy John's wraps. We'd never had anything from Jimmy John's, but they got us addicted...or at least, they got me addicted.

My first meal, post-fasting, was a Jimmy John’s chicken Caesar wrap. Woot! Woot!

Oh, and I didn't lose 3 pounds, like the pre-op nurse promised, hoping to entice me to follow through. (My body is rebellious, and doesn't work like that. It was like, why are you being so mean?)

What enticed me is that a colonoscopy is a great preventative procedure. I am told that 10% of polyps will progress to cancerous, but they are easily removed, if found, during a routine colonoscopy. 

In all seriousness, that is my reward.