Escape! And the stomping, muttering lady.

So, escape #3.
I have some sort of knobby bit on the middle joint of my right index finger. It is irritating. It doesn't hurt a whole lot, but it makes it harder to do things. I can't easily take the tops off needles and the doggy toe nail clippers are harder to work, and when I write, I sometimes just stick my finger out straight. So, I decided to let a hand doc have a look-see. This happens in TBC. And, if you're a-going to The Big City, can't go in the muck boots and polar tech. Nope. Stacy and Clinton might come get me.
(I grocery shop with Oprah and dress with Stacy and Clinton. I figure this saves me from myself.)
So, as to avoid any encounters with TLC's What Not To Wear, I put on a springy blue and white patterned pantsuit, wide leather belt, blue blazer and strappy high heeled sandals. Tasteful jewelry, and ready to go. Fortunately, Huz had consented to join me for lunch, so I was also getting to go on a date!
We shared a nice lunch in the sun (gasp!) and I deposited him back at work before going off to the hand surgeon.
X-rays (Huz would have me say "radiographs") showed no bone involvement, so I elected to have him inject the joint. He sunk a needle down into the joint, injected a bunch of drugs, and I was done.
Such a gorgeous day, where I really want to be is home, so, having avoided a Stacy and Clinton ambush yet again, Denty aimed for Cowfeathers.
This is where my day gets ridiculous. Stacy and Clinton, I understand your point, but, really, polar tech and Muck boots are so practical.
About a mile from home, sailing down the sun filled road, I pass the big white farmhouse of our northern neighbors. Just south of the house is a big alfalfa field. And, in that field? Looks like the neighbors have horses. My horses.
Damn,damn,damn.
I zip onto the dirt road just south of the alfalfa field.
And there I am, in my breezy pantsuit, 4" strappy sandals and blue blazer marching two bad ponies home on dog leashes around their necks, whilst muttering and sweating.
This time? Clever pony lips figured out how to open the latch on the gate.
Do they just wait for me to drive away?