Lughnasa Waxing Honey Extraction Moon
Inertia has begun to weigh down my willingness to go places. We skipped the Minnesota Hobby Bee Keeper’s picnic last night. I don’t really want to go Running Aces, a harness track somewhat near Andover. Why would I want to in the first place, you might ask?
My grandpa, after whom I am named, Charlie Keaton, had harness horses and was a railbird, never missing a Kentucky Derby. My uncle, Riley Keaton, kept harness horses and raced them, though he didn’t drive. My cousin Richard Keaton, keeps harness horses and, until a bad accident, actually drove the sulky, too.
So, you could say it’s in my blood. But the percentage doesn’t seem to be very high. I’m not a horse person, though Kate, at times, is. She attended Camp Holloway in Minnesota, a camp where young Iowa girls learned to ride. That was also where she first encountered Irish Wolfhounds.
Neither one of us are gamblers, though I will play the very occasional game of poker. Still, might go.
I like to do my work during the day then wind down at night, watch a little tv, read, write. That sort of thing. When my schedule is full, Sierra Club legcom in full voice and meeting once a week, touring on Thursdays at the MIA and translating my chunk of Ovid for my Friday session with Greg, my tutor, I seem to have more energy, greater willingness to challenge the home focused inertia. Odd, I know. Now, when life is less demanding, any attempt to get me out of the house may well be met with, “Oh, c’mon. Not tonight. I have TV to watch.”