Kingston Ponies & doing what needs to be done

I have been cleaning up after the "Kingston Ponies" for a couple months now and wanted to touch on what they've done for me.

It's not fair to call them Ponies considering Davey is a good 17hh and Chopin as not far behind him, if at all. They are huge and make my crew look like ponies! I can literally stand under Davey's head and Not reach his chin, I'm not tall I am only 5'4" however...I've had the chance to stand under Davey plenty because he is the single most curious horse I've ever met. I am pretty sure he can't understand why I am so interested in the wheelbarrow I push around the pasture and not fawning over him for the two hours it takes to clean their pasture. The pasture is also huge, and beautiful, and peaceful, and one hell of a work out!

That's Davey, the wheelbarrow, and me. If I didn't know better I'd think he was trying to eat my head. He's not, he nuzzles every chance he gets.

In any case, Davey isn't the story really. The story today is "Doing what needs to be done"; it's a lesson most of us who grew up without the wonder that is Facebook and instant success learned as children. 

When I lost my job back in December (officially speaking it was Jan 1st; the official story and the reality are worlds apart) I sat down with about five different plans to never go back to software again. 

I'd say it was about four months into it when I realized one of my "plans" was all about software and that my heart simply wasn't there anymore. It was a disappointing revelation however it did lead up to meeting the Kingston Ponies. 

I very quietly posted an ad on Craigslist to do, what in my head was "below" my abilities, cleaning stalls. I did it quietly because I was embarrassed; had I fallen that far? Was I seriously thinking this was a good idea? I tucked my embarrassment away and remembered that the ponies here didn't care what I did to earn the money that we needed to make sure they didn't suffer through my loss of job. The idea was to make enough on the side to support the ponies and beyond that I didn't really care. 

I'm no longer embarrassed at this idea of cleaning after other animals to earn my keep as the partner to the ones I have here at home. I am actually proud of the work I have done, to date, in this weird bizarre twist of my life; if one can be proud of cleaning various pastures and goat houses that is.

I am flabbergasted today (it's a good word not often used and it fits).  I go to Kingston twice a week and push around a good 200 lbs of shit for a good two hours up and down a hill that rivals the one at home. I go once a week and clean out a goat house that smells pretty rank being it is full of goat pee soaked straw (which is heavy by the way). I spend the better part of every day trying to work out how to turn this into what I want to do with my life, which is care for the ponies. I don't hate software or the industry that helped me get where I am today, I'm just done, tired, burnt out and not interested anymore. I think at this stage of my life I have the luxury of really examining what I want to do with my time, the software industry allowed that and I am thankful. I do not however understand the many walking around today as if they aren't required to bust their ass to get what they desire. It's as if everyone has forgotten that making a living is not always what you want it to be when you start out and sometimes you have to earn it by doing things that are less than ideal. I'm not special, I don't do anything extraordinary, I simply do what has to be done in order to support the life and the ones I have chosen to include in that life. What I wonder is, where did that belief go? 

I often wonder if it is the disconnect that has come with being "connected" through means that are not real. Actually that's bullshit I blame a society that has become so disconnected that we communicate more electronically then we do personally. It's not really a connection when it can all, so easily, be fabricated and is more times than not. You can't be in touch with reality when you are watching your life through a screen; I've done it, I did it for years. I lost touch with who I was for years, if that happens how can you be in touch with any other living thing? If that happens how can you possibly grasp what is going on around you?

We've created a selfish and entitled society that makes me shake my head more times than not these days. I'm  proud to clean the pasture of the Kingston Ponies today and I am proud of the work I do with the Goats on the Island. I'm no longer embarrassed cause it's honest, it's real, it allows me to be me, it reminds me every time that 80k a year was fantastic but it cost me millions in values to make it. 

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How they saved me, The Conclusion

I came to live at the farm two years ago this Sept, six months after my brother died, and quite by accident. We were talking at work and a friend mentioned the farm house, we were prepping for a party hosted by our department actually. I jokingly remarked on how I'd love it, I had never seen it. What the hell would I do with a farm house anyway right?!

Well long story short I did see it, it was available for lease, and I felt strangely at peace when I thought about it. Plus, let us not forget Lexi, Leo's sister that I wanted but could not have if I stayed where I was off Totten. Always an angle (haha) however it sure wasn't horses at that time. Looking back, I had no idea, No Idea, what I was in for.

My younger brother came and looked at the farm with me one day before I moved in and when he walked in he looked right at me and said "yep this fits you". I figured he meant it fit because everything is just a touch out of wack, slightly askew, not quite perfect if you will, here at the farm. Perhaps he didn't mean that at all, maybe he's smarter than I think. I sure didn't think it "fit" me I just thought it was down right cute and whoo hoo there were ponies here BONUS! And it was out of the way, like you get lost coming here at least once, out of the way and quite frankly that appealed to me more than anything else.

I didn't instantly fall in love with the horses, they scared me. I thought my friend (whom owned the horses that lived here) was crazy to go walking around lifting up legs that reached my chest. I was definitely captivated by them but I didn't get really close. A treat now and again, mostly I stared in awe.

I watched my friend around them, I watched the horses when I thought they weren't looking and I studied every single piece of information I could get my little hands on. I really wanted to "know" about them. It's what I do.

P changed it all though. I can even tell you the day it went from, wow aren't they the coolest animal ever, to wow I can't imagine my life without them.

P is the greatest little mare. P could also be described as slightly stand offish I suppose. I've always thought of her as cautious. I've always had a respect for the way she holds herself. She has boundaries and if she doesn't trust you she likely won't come happily to you.

One day I was in the pasture talking to her and trying to pick a bunch of branches out of what I, still today, believe is the prettiest mane ever. I didn't really know if she'd let me and me being me, being unsure and nervous usually meant a physical reaction. "Sure lady stick your fingers in my hair when your knees are knocking together, great flippin' idea". Needless to say it instills zero in the way of confidence from a horses point of view.

The really funny thing is, I was never really afraid of them hurting me. I was convinced in my ignorance of them, I'd somehow hurt/damage them. That belief likely grew out of the residue left over from my sons escapades, after all hadn't I "damaged" him? The answer to that by the way is no I did not, knowing that however and believing that are worlds apart sometimes. I did not believe that two years ago.

That afternoon, picking branches out of P's mane, talking to her to ease the crazy nervous energy that refused to go away, I caught a glimpse of who I was without the residue.

And that's how the ponies saved me, they let me in. They trusted this knock kneed, shaken up mess and let me know that it was ok to love even when I was afraid.

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How they saved me, Part One

A friend of mine recently remarked that it wouldn't be a bad thing to hear more about how the horses saved me. I say it frequently but never really explain.

It started about twelve years ago when my son was about 13, was in full swing ten years ago and didn't slow down, much less stop for me until just two years ago; a time period that has it's own story to tell.

My son has always had the uncanny ability to worm his way into most anything he wanted, even if it meant great fabrication. He really ought to channel that better but that's another story. In any case about the time he turned thirteen my son figured out how to work the "system", refusing to read meant books on tape in reading class, coming late repeatedly meant late start days, etc. It grew to unbelievable out of control proportions, ending with a restraining order that lasted two very long years. It quite literally ripped me to pieces; I was so incredibly wrapped up in being his mother that with that spinning out of control I was lost for a long long time. I did what any child of "dysfunction" would do and dove so deep into my job that my life became my work, my work was not my life; my life was work. There is a difference.

I ran on auto-pilot for a good decade.

It was actually moving to this side of the water that started what is more like coming out of a coma then it is saving my life. There was logic there, of course! Had I not worked at Avalara I'd never have moved over here, so thanks for that Avaland. I did however want the peace that I was sure would come from being on this side of the water. I was often in the middle of things, ok that's bullshit, I was smack dab in the middle of my son, his girlfriend, and my grandson. Amber had moved out with my grandson, my son had topped it off by vandalizing the home, tossing wild accusations, and getting arrested with charges that would ultimately result in a two year restraining order issued by the state for my protection. I think that was damned close to as hurt as I've ever been, it was also not long before my move to this side of the water.

I lived off Totten in Poulsbo with my cat for some time, enjoying this new found peace and field mice all at the same time when my Aunt Cheryl was killed. She was my mom's youngest sister. She was to me, well I idolized her. She was to me what I've always hoped to be to my nieces. It shook everyone badly in a multitude of ways when she died. There was also the sting of knowing that once again my son was incarcerated while his family fought a tragedy. There is a unique and unbearably sad feeling that comes with knowing that.

Leo came into my life six months after my Aunt Cheryl passed away. I don't think I loved anything more than I did that puppy.

I left him once to go on a trip to California to see an old high school friend and attend an "Anti-Valentine's Day" party; yep that's where my head was at! Anyway I left him in the care of my older brother because much to my disappointment flying Leo cost an arm and half a leg. I have a picture of my older brother and Leo sleeping on the couch when Leo was just a baby and my older brother was still with us. That was February two years ago. My brother died the next month, in March, alone, scared, and very cold in a river after running to something or from something for nearly his entire life. That picture is by far the best shot I have ever taken with a camera of any kind. My son, still gone, however the restraining order had run it's course by then and I was able to tell him of the news via a collect call. Again, unbelievable feelings surround this kind of a mess.

It all sort of came crashing down on me when my brother died. It felt like years of grief pouring all over the place, my dad, my aunt, my brother, and all those years of grieving a son that I never quite knew would make it back. Hell I even stopped giving a shit about my work right about then. I tried to lose myself there, it's what I do, it didn't work. I still did the work, I simply didn't "care" so much anymore. It all seemed down right stupid in the face of what I was feeling.

Leo, with his constant attention, crazy antics, and unrelenting love let me heal. That's really the bottom line, he sat on my lap and let me cry. He quite literally licked the tears from my face on more than one occasion.

I'm not going to sit here and tell anyone that they "literally" saved my life however without Leo I'd have found something to lose myself in and it probably wouldn't have been all that good for me. Leo gave me purpose I suppose plus caring for him didn't mean losing myself. He just let me love him and in that I started beginning to heal.

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Patch, I apologize in advance

I'll skip the whole "wow I suck at updating this blog however I've been busy..." routine.

Tonight is a big night, we're gonna clean Patch's sheath. Nope never done it, nope not looking forward to it, yes I will have the assistance of someone who has done this before not to mention recently.

My stomach drops at the thought of this little undertaking. Just a tiny catch of the breath each time I think of it, just enough to remind me that I love that little guy beyond reason. He makes me smile every day, his morning hello is something every lonely or lost person in the world should be privy to; I quite literally thank the stars for every day that he's in my life.

All that being said, I also know Patch pretty well. I have no fears of him kicking out or anything of the sort. I'm pretty sure he's gonna be insulted though. I'm also pretty sure he's going to assure himself that he was right; I am a sissy pants, tree hugging, bleeding heart, worry wart and he'll likely use that to justify the silent treatment that will follow. I am absolutely not kidding.

Describing Patch is hard for me, he's so many things and my gosh does he have personality.

He comes to the door and waits for a treat, he only leaves if Tex comes by and then once Tex leaves he'll go back to standing vigil. He knows it works and he's in no hurry. He isn't afraid of Texas, he won't however waste his time with Tex's constant flexing. He simply moves out of the way until Tex is done prancing about as if he is the VIP of the group. That little dance goes on a lot around here and if you watch closely you can catch Patch's eye when it's happening, he is all but rolling his eyes and muttering "kids these days..."

He chases Leo, he doesn't chase Leo a lot and he doesn't ever over step when he is chasing Leo. He stays right on Leo's butt, just close enough to catch Leo's attention but never close enough to actually mis-step and land on Leo. He puts his head down, pins his ears and prances after him, it does in fact look a little like a prance. I think it only happens when Patch has had it with Leo's firm belief that he is actually the VIP of the group.

The horses are allowed in the yard, it's fenced and I like it so I don't much care anymore if it seems odd to have three horses wandering the yard. They like it too, there is some yummy grass in the yard. Anyway when they are wandering the yard the stalls are typically open as well. They will each go in the barn and check out the stalls a few times. When it's close to dinner they will go in and out checking for hay, when hay is in there for dinner they will go in, look at the hay, look for me, take a bite and debate staying and eating or grass in the yard. That's a fun one to watch but I digress...

If (during the yard wandering) Katie goes in her stall (she's in the middle) and Patch is around he will shut her door with his nose, no he can't lock it but I suspect he would if only he had thumbs!

If I feed them in the pasture and Patch is tired of the "pile hopping" that goes on he will look at you as if to say "seriously if I could pick up this pile and move it away from these two I would...".

He tells on Texas, frequently.

He acts like he HATES his blanket. He stands there and lays his cute little ears down and looks at me like I'm a ... (see above sissy pants remark).

He acts the same way when I go in his stall and hug him and brush him.

But he is the first one to come say hi, he's the first one to say good morning, he will lay his head on your shoulder so long as no one is watching and he might act like he hates the brushing and primping but he sure moves into my hand when it's happening! He might think I am a big sissy pants worry wart but he loves me anyway.

Maybe we'll have a little talk about things that are "for your own good" today. I don't have much else planned! I'm sure once he is done being insulted and Saturday rolls around (yes I know it's only Thursday, remember the silent treatment) all will be well, not to mention clean!

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Herd bound

Today as I was getting ready to go to my brother's house for dinner I went wandering through the barn. Checking water buckets that had been checked five minutes before, kicking around the pellets in the stalls I cleaned earlier in preparation for this incredible trip that would take me away for a good five hours, divvying up hay for their "first half" of dinner knowing that I'd call Dale and ask him to give it to them cause I wouldn't be home by 5pm, I realized...I am herd bound.

In my defense I did manage to clean the excess mud from my boots. I even thought about make up (in that I stuffed a bottle of foundation in my purse) I never applied it.

I had a lovely time at my brother's. I was able to see my grandson, I got to see my grand niece and nephew. We had a wonderful dinner of steaks on the grill, multiple salads and a good bunch of laughter.

I missed seeing the ponies through the window while I ate.

I wondered where the "me" that thrived on cell phones, noise, traffic, and a constant connection had gone. I also wondered when I stopped missing her.

I remembered the smell of the barn while I yelled to the kids not to play in the street, which was really a street, and I shook my head.

I had changed, or maybe I had just stopped pretending.

The animals, somehow, have given me permission to honor who I am. And now, now I am herd bound. Had I been able to call for them as I left the drive I probably would have. If I had I am sure they'd have called back because really it is that simple with them, and these days (thank goodness) for me as well.

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