It’s 10:42 p.m. when I finally pull into the driveway. A six-and-a-half-hour drive home from a site visit. My in-laws’ car is not in the driveway. I take a deep breath. This means that my husband is home alone trying his best to manage our five children … Lord only knows what kind of a scene I am getting ready to walk into.
Never, ever bet on a horse wearing blinders. Why, you ask? Because, of course, a horse wearing blinders must be irresponsible, uncontrollable and, worst of all, completely unaware of its surroundings. At least as a child who spent my summers at the track, that was my logic. You need another kind of logic to prepare for the workdays ahead.