You know how hard it is to gather your thoughts for a week or so after vacation? Or is that just me? Hmm.

Well, in any case, I'm working on a giant, multi-entry bonanza of trippy recapness, and you will love it. Oh yes. But until then, let me just wish you all a Happy First Day of Summer and pass you a squirt gun, so that you might shoot me between the eyes.

Today dawned hot. Like, those days where you know you're looking at triple digits. And sure enough, the mercury hit 101 degrees as I stood outside the big barn, waiting for my kids to have their riding lessons. Lucky for me, I was all cute in one of my new Athleta outfits, but still. Hot! Sweaty! Red faced!

The kids were sweating on Buddy, one of the latest horses to arrive at the stable, and I kept my youngest occupied by mooning over some four-day-old baby goats. Man, they are adorable. Not only were there baby goats, but there were baby kittens. And a chihuahua. And a new pony. And the whole barn full of horses and ponies. And a soda machine.

Guess what was the highlight? Best 75 cents I ever spent, man.

The kids are really coming along with the riding, unlike their mother, who is still rather dorky on horseback. I mean, they can trot without having a death grip on the horse's mane. They don't make whooping noises of surprise whenever the horse starts or stops. I think I'm cut out for comic relief, rather than horse shows. Alas. I've still got my pluck and my suspicious nature, so I think I could still ride out with the BWG.

My battered knee is healing up, and I'm going to be starting up with my running/walking program again, hopefully tomorrow. I can't tell you how stupid it is to start a vigorous exercise program in summertime. Especially when you sweat and get red-faced and end up breathing like Darth Vader.

However, drastic measures are needed, because BlogHer looms large, and people, they booked it at a hotel with a pool. Lawdy. I'm having little panic spasms about it already.

My youngest has the little disposable camera that my parents used at one of the parks, and she's demanding that I look at her and smile. I obliged once, and then turned back to type, and she just hollered "Mama, yo back don't smile."

No, it doesn't, but my shoulders were shaking as I tried to supress a guffaw. I think we can papparazzi to her future career options.