Losing your zen

I have said, over and over, that the horses, the animals in general, have taught me to be a better person. They taught be a lot about peace. They teach me forgiveness everyday. They teach me a bit more about trust each day. They help me to be true to myself.

My guys are all rescues of sorts. I say of sorts cause there is no real word for "needed a home". Brody is truly a rescue situation. Brody would have died, and probably sooner then anyone really wants to think about, had he been left in the situation he was in. The others, well they just needed a safe landing for one reason or the next.

When you have "rescues" people often say things like "You've done such a great job" or "They are lucky to have you" or something along those lines. I suppose that is true; thing is I don't think many know that the truth is, I need them as badly as they need me. I am lucky to have them in my life.

Lately there have been many occasions when I have come dangerously close to forgetting that I choose peace. I don't choose resentment, I don't choose accusatory behavior, I do not choose vindictive, vengeful, or hurtful behavior. I often forget that I choose peace for me, I choose forgiveness for me; not for someone else's well being, for mine. I also tend to forget that all of that does not mean that I lack strength, neither does it mean I accept those behaviors from others in my life.

It's a string of lessons I've been learning and relearning for the last two years. By learning I mean actively learning, or paying attention to! It's tough to wrap your head around peace when all around us we see violence, revenge, aggression. It's hard not to lash out and strike the offending aggressor, regardless of what it is. It is hard not to be self righteous in your anger, self righteous anger is dangerous. Fighting that is hard when you're hurt, confused, or just generally pissed off.

I've been pissed off a lot lately, rather I have had to examine being pissed off, quite a bit lately. It doesn't matter at who/what really because this idea of living life with peace means (to me) that the why is more important than the who/what.

It's taken a lot of barn time for me to figure this one out, truth be told. I mentioned to a co-worker that being in the barn, staring at the ponies, kept me sane. It certainly does that, more importantly it helps me figure it all out so that I come through it with peace. I stand there, my fingers freezing cause my gloves are inevitably wet, feet cold and wet (if not muddy) cause my boots have a hole and I have yet to apply my fix to this problem (duct tape), and listen to them eat; let the sound of hay being crunched, water being sloshed, and the occasional swoosh of a tail, remind me again that peace is a choice. The only choice.

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Brody, a whole lotta magic.

I don't talk much about Brody. Brody touches on a lot of things I tend to keep to myself. Brody embodies a lot of things that I tend to keep to myself.

The other night I was brushing Brody and he stopped eating. He doesn't always stop eating and wait for me to finish, sometimes he continues and I work around him. The other night, he stood there and just enjoyed it. A friend of mine remarked on space and the like, I agreed that Brody did in fact respect mine. I also knew that wasn't why he was standing there, oblivious to the hay (alfalfa no less). He was standing there because he was letting himself quietly enjoy the attention.

He's always liked the brushing, the contact, the reassurance that he is loved, the touch that says trust can be had. We don't get near enough time, in my opinion, but when we do he loves it as much as I do. I like the brushing, the contact, the reassurance that I am loved, the touch that says trust can be had.

It's different when they come to you as damaged as Brody was. I am constantly amazed that he can trust any human. That he feels safe enough to enjoy the feel of the brush or my hand still chokes me up. I often wonder if I have that level of forgiveness in me.

It's magical to witness someone coming back to life, it is also (and more importantly) an incredible honor. I said someone on purpose. I don't think "someone" applies strictly to humans. He's not a "something" which is likely the word I would have used ten years ago. Ten years ago I loved animals, ten years ago I also had no idea how much they gave, felt, or taught us, without even trying.

I can't remember when, or who, tapped into that part of me that needed them as much as I believed they needed me. It probably started with Patch. That's probably why Brody is so tough a subject for me. He reminds me so much of Patch, he and I met the day after Patch died, he was so sad, I was so sad. I wasn't sure if Brody and I had any business together but I couldn't walk away.

When I met Patch it was much the same. A friend had talked me into going to see this pony; he was lame, he was likely going to head to the game farm as a result. I remember agreeing that sure we'd take the pony home and no no the gentleman had no worries because after all it wasn't really me, it was me and Kate; she knew all we needed to know. I figured this pony was a Kate project disguised as a pony for my grandson. For goodness sakes I didn't even like Appy's and Patch was an Appy in every way. I didn't know a damn thing about rehabilitating anything much less a horse. I stood there when Jeff asked if I could take him on and shook, thank goodness not visibly, and told him that it wasn't a problem cause Kate would do the lion's share of the work.

Then I got to know Patch. He is still one of the most special 'someones' I've ever had the pleasure of loving.

It was a lot like that with Brody. It's a lot like that with Brody every day.

It's different when they come to you like that. It changes you, if you let it. It changes them, if you're lucky. It makes you grateful for every single day, if you pay attention. If there isn't a whole lotta magic there...it's not likely to be found anywhere else.

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9943 days, a few hours, and not so many minutes away from 9944

I was driving along today, on my way home, thinking about my son. Thinking about Lou and the Horsey Halloween Party we went to. Thinking about how much joy they bring me. Wondering why the joy they bring me somehow came back to Joshua. It's some very odd and misguided sense of guilt that keeps me a little on edge about admitting how happy I am around them.

He once told me, not too terribly long ago, in a rather put out manner, that if I didn't have "the horses" maybe I "could" afford to help him more. By not too long ago, I do mean within the last year. He was 27 in August of this year. He is also currently residing in another state. Yet, he really does believe that my life ought to center around him, still. Not just participate in, center around. Nine thousand, nine hundred, and forty three days later; center around him.

It doesn't. I feel guilty, how dare I not focus on whatever dilemma has befallen him. How dare I enjoy the life I have built. How dare I have joy when he is in obvious, unavoidable pain. Make no mistake those are statements, not questions.

Tonight I realized I could bask in the joy that comes with thinking about Mr. Lou and I at Diamond Hill this weekend. I could, if I let myself. And so nine thousand, nine hundred, and forty three days later I'm gonna let myself be a participant in Joshua's life, an important one, still a participant, and bring you part of the joy that is Lou...

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Big Lou

Big Lou, you have to say it with your head tilted down toward your chin and with a deeper voice than is likely to come out of you, whomever you may be! I didn't notice that I actually did the tilting of the head when I addressed him as "Big Lou" until tonight when I was thinking about writing a bit about him.

He's not always Big Lou, sometimes he is Mr. Lou, sometimes he is Hey Gorgeous, and sometimes he is Seriously Lou?. Nearly always, he is perfect. He's got personality from here until next Tuesday, which really means he is prone to causing trouble. In the same respect, he is as mellow as sipping a Vanilla Latte in a springtime pasture on a Sunday afternoon.

Under saddle he does exactly what you ask, even when presented with someone who doesn't always ask perfectly. I know he'd do his level best to catch me if I fell, which I have. Some call it an emergency dismount, I call it being used to falling :-).

I've rarely felt as safe as I do when I am atop Lou. Still, I'm never bored. It's not a comfortable, old shoe kind of safe. It's a 'let's do this, I believe in you" kind of safe.

I got lucky with Lou. He just flat out makes me smile, tilt my head down, and lower my voice to that of a fifty year old cowboy and ask "Ok Big Lou, ya wanna go for a ride". I don't even care how silly it must look and so far as I can tell, neither does he!

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Raw and unfiltered

Nice title don't you think? 

It's not near as exciting as it sounds. One day not so long ago I came home to find that one of the boys had hurt himself. He had a nasty gash on his shoulder. That first day it looked like he got kicked and the skin had been pulled back. Nasty, yes. Treatable, absolutely. 

The next day he had rolled and seemingly torn off the piece of skin that led me to believe that it was a kick that had simply torn back the skin in the process. When I cleaned him up that night I saw that it was more along the lines of a puncture wound and once the skin that was trying to cover it had left, well it was roughly the size of a half dollar. It was swollen. There was heat.

I cleaned it out, put medicine on it (Nu-Stock which is great stuff), and tried to wrap it. He ended up with a huge ass home-made band-aid secured with duct tape. You can not wrap an almost to the shoulder, but not quite, wound with much success, at least I couldn't. 

The bandages didn't work very well. Inevitably they'd come off during the day. I have decided they came off when he rolled. Off comes the bandage, in comes the dirt. The dirt meets the medicine which covers the wound and all the days work is lost. 

This went on for about four days before I remembered the honey. A friend of mine had used it with a lot of success. Lou's wound was one day away from the vet. I could not keep it clean and or dry. The medicine I was using, as great as it is, was useless when it was mixed with dirt. I pressed my nose to the cut and smelled, it wasn't good. Yes I smelled it. It was what made me remember the honey. 

I knew we were bordering on something that could go south. I went to Pike Place Market a day after that and spoke to every honey vendor there. I finally stumbled on a woman whom did not look at me as if I were crazy when I explained that the taste did not matter because the intent was to slather my horse's shoulder with it as a salve. Her son had actually used honey to heal a wound he had across the bridge of his nose, she understood; her son did not scar by the way. She had a variety of honeys however recommended a Wild Thistle honey due to it's thickness. 

Honestly, I was desperate; Lou's wound had me scared. An infection could lead to really bad things. I didn't really think the honey idea would work, it seemed too simple to me. I'd probably have never tried it had I not been contemplating a 60.00 farm call and god knows how much to follow. 

I bought a 3oz jar for 5.50. It is worth noting that I still have some left.

I put the honey on him Sunday night after washing out his wound. Monday morning it looked as if the honey had acted as a drawing agent, pulling out the yuck that was still in there. His leg was wet in streaks. It wasn't like the honey just dripped down, it was as if the honey pulled out bad stuff (not puss or anything gross like that) and released it underneath this seal around the actual wound. The wound itself was still covered, the heat had left, and the swelling had gone down.  

The wound was washed and the honey reapplied each day for two days.

I did not touch the wound Tuesday or Wednesday. I checked on it but I did not wash it out and reapply the honey until Thursday.

It was dirty however the honey had created a barrier of sorts for the actual wound. The outside of the area was dirty, the wound was clean and protected.

My friend and I looked at his wound last night. It was, or better yet is, not the least bit swollen, has not even the touch of heat, is barely the size of half a dime, with virtually no hair loss

I smelled him tonight, just for good measure. I stuck my face right there on his big giant shoulder and breathed in deep and what I smelled was beautiful, healthy, raw, and unfiltered!

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Removing should from your vocabulary

The other day, yesterday actually, I explained my theory on the word should to a good friend of mine. She was stating that she should not feel this or that about a situation; the circumstances don't really matter in this case. I listened for a bit then remembered my mom telling me not too many months ago (perhaps a year) that should implied blame and perhaps replacing that word with a kinder word, could for example, might just change my outlook on whatever situation I thought I was, or had, handled incorrectly. I shared it with my friend last night and was reminded of it again today.

I.E. I should have (insert action) vs. I could have (insert action). 

Should leaves very little room for growth; with should you are concentrating on what went south as opposed to how come it went south and exploring the options that may have resulted in a better outcome.
It's also incredibly hard to stop saying should.

Today a very dear friend, arguably my closest friend, had to make a decision that, right or wrong, breaks a person's heart. I wondered a million times throughout the day if she was alright and prayed she wasn't "shoulding" herself to death. It's strangely easy to do. I suppose it makes sense, if you accept blame you can hang on to the belief that you can, or could have, fix(ed) whatever the problem may have been if only you were better - in whatever way you've decided you are lacking! 

Could - for example - leaves it (whatever it may be) open for exploration, for thinking, for learning, for possibility; none of which you can obtain if you are busying yourself with blame.

Today I came home and Rev didn't feel good. I panicked of course, the very thought of any of them being hurt or sick or uncomfortable finds my heart beating like crazy and my mind racing. That being said when push comes to shove I can handle an emergency; once I know something is wrong, once I know I can't afford to freak out and cry, I don't. Of course the initial panic sucks :-) 

In any case he was not feeling good, he is ok. He doesn't feel great but he is in no danger. 

It's been crazy dry here and as a result I have a ton of sand, not dirt, sand. They eat lunch outside (everything else is in their stalls) and I was becoming worried that sand colic could be a problem. Last Saturday I put them all on sand clear (or a version thereof). Rev is mighty sensitive and will benefit from ProBios I think however that is more of a side note. I do believe the poor baby has a tummy ache. His temperature is normal, he has pooped, he did me the courtesy of multiple farts (one of which occurred while taking his temperature, effectively in my hand), he has plenty of gut sounds, he is eating. He is also uncomfortable, but not critical by any stretch. Much to his dismay, he is also being monitored and the vet will be called at any repeated signs of upset.

I did not, through this, say to myself "you should have..." "it's your fault cause of the sand..." etc... etc...
I thought, from now we will all be on Psyllium because there is sand and it's not worth the risk.I thought, you are learning from this so that you can prevent any upset in the future.

Yes, I "could" have started them on a Psyllium regiment long ago and possibly prevented any upset for Rev. I  "could" have kept him on ProBios just because it "seemed" to have positive (read no ill) effects. Both of those "could" have prevented his tummy ache this evening, it also might not have. That does not make the Psyllium regiment or ProBios anything less than a good idea. Using "could" however not only took the blame away from something I (in reality) have little control over, it also opened up the thought process enough to let learning happen.

I suppose one can't complain too loudly about that.

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It's like a win-win-win.

Simply put, they are my babies. I'd lay across rail road tracks for each one of them. I'd not even so much as hesitate.

Recently I secured a position that will let me take care of my babies with one less worry. It's been a worrisome couple years; not that they knew, pretty sure I am the only one that ended up with an ulcer.

It's been a nice few hours, letting it all sink in. A bit of freedom, an air of relief, and if I were inclined to be honest, I'd say I was rather proud of myself.

Securing the position isn't really all that impressive; not securing the position, based on my qualifications, would have been devastating. Ok, so maybe not devastating but a blow to the old ego. I digress, my apologies.

What is impressive however, is that this crazy last twenty some odd months has changed me in ways what will actually let me do the job I have loved, since the first problem was presented to me, without motive for more. I honestly just want to do a good job, earn a decent income as a result, learn and grow as much as I can while doing it, and take care of my family.

The family I take care of these days consists of three wonderful horses, two spectacular dogs, a few chickens (who tend to scare me), and a beautiful cat. Taking care of them is paramount to me, there is simply no other word. Over the last twenty some odd months I've struggled with decisions surrounding their care, surrounding what was best for them, for us as a family, for me as a person, and let me tell you, there were a lot of scary 'oh my god' moments through those decisions. There was work and there was more work. There were adjustments and sacrifices. There have been balancing acts and sighs of relief. Bottom line always came down to what was best for them and I found, like most mothers, I'd do anything to make sure that happened. I always knew it, in my defense, it had just been a long time since I had to work so hard and so many angles to do it.  And my goodness the lessons in humility and strength alike were, let's just say, frequent.

None of these worries will go away and I pray that the lessons still come as frequently, goodness knows I've got an awful lot left to learn. They probably won't even lessen much. I'll still worry about hay quality, dentist appointments that need to be made, shoes that need to be had, diet issues, blankets, stall floors, riding frequency, and every other possible problem you can imagine. I will, with any luck, wake each day with a lesson to be had. With even more luck, I'll recognize the possibility enough to accept the lesson! I will however do it all with a little financial relief and bonus, it is doing something I love to do. It's like the best win-win I've had in the last few years.

When you take into consideration, that I'll not lose me in doing a great job, it's like a win-win-win.

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Somewhere between acceptance and gratitude or, varying degrees of doubt.

Today I am pissed at my email, in a shitty mood because it has not produced the email I am waiting for, and a little disappointed in my ability to "keep the faith" and/or feel grateful. 

For a solid six days I have been religiously repeating:

1. The strength it took to look honestly at that time period was hard earned; hold onto that and stay proud of that.

2. If nothing, save a lesson, comes of this, the lesson is valuable enough.

3. The outcome will not define you, does not define you; the outcome is not a reflection of you as a person, it is simply the decision of someone other than yourself. 

4. Let it go, see number 3 and let it go.

It's been a long six days. I believe, with all my heart, that all three of those are completely true statements. I really do wish I could stop repeating them. With every day that passes without an answer the voice of reason has to battle the voice of insecurity. She's got a pretty strong voice, resilient shit that she is. She battles everything above with her own version of the truth and lord is she negative!

I worked today and all went well. Sue and I worked together, we do well together. The ponies were all a dream save Kobe whom has taken to trying to eat the lead rope and Wynston whom thinks smelling the top of my head and dripping a little horsey goo in my hair is great fun. It was a good day, all in all. 

I drove in the drive and Mr. Leo was right there to greet me. Jack right behind him, wagging his little tail so fast he looks like half a helicopter! The boys were all accounted for and looked good too. I didn't get attacked by the crazy rooster. Weather was nice and I planned on riding Brody for a bit this evening.

Why then am I talking myself out of a negative mind set?

It's simple, I am letting this other person's decision rule my days, my nights, and even my dreams. I remarked earlier today that if I could simply remember all I dreamt when my mind was working overtime I'd give Stephen King a run for his money! My imagination is great fun play in, it's not great fun to get lost in! I believe "torture chamber" is what I used to describe it today. Every person whom has made an impression on me has appeared lately; my high school boyfriend popped over to let me know that the cliff I was jumping over was probably gonna suck, my mom and I were on a train that went to what felt like a desolate version of our world after deciding that we'd end up dying alone and together (literally), my brother popped in disguised as my father to remind me that although I thought pretty highly of my intellect...I wake feeling confused and as if I had just run a marathon. 

Why?

Because I am letting someone else's decision rule my days. I am forgetting all that brought me here. I am forgetting that the answer I am afraid of won't kill me; it may not please me however that's all it will do. I've been displeased before, it's never resulted in the end of the world :-)

Right? 

I'm gonna make sure to ask Brody, he's usually spot on when I am stuck between varying degrees of doubt.

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And they call me Queen of the Walk

It's no secret that I don't like to go fast. Facts are facts; part of me is a big chicken. I say things like... I need to work on my posting, I haven't really done much lately, I'm sure I have forgotten the right way, I look like an idiot, I should take lessons again, then maybe we'll talk about cantering and all this "you have to go fast business".

Truth is the key is feeling, not to mention a lot of trusting that enough to let go of the perfectionist, intellectual freak that says thing like "you look silly cause you aren't perfect". I look pretty hot at the walk. I love trotting about with Rev and Lou, so long as very few are around to see me go beyond the walk. Did I mention, I look great at the walk. It's the letting go that tends to keep me at the walk, the trusting myself part, that keeps me at the walk.

Rev and Lou have been a new experience for me, both of them have found me wanting to ride, for different reasons all together, however with both of them I get this "oh boy we're gonna ride" feeling that I haven't had in a long time. It's fun again with them; it's a bonus that it's fun for different reasons with each of them.

We rode yesterday; Rev and I in the arena, then around the "trail" three times. We went a couple different ways up to the top of the pasture, jogging up the hill this way and that. We played at the top of the pasture where I let him go just a touch faster than we've gone before then heading back down. He never goes faster than I am ready for and always seems very aware of what that means. It's quite amazing considering my speedometer changes each time we ride! He was great. Tomorrow we're gonna venture off the property, head up the street (or down I haven't decided). I have such a great time with him, we were plowing through the bushes (let's pretend they were thick, huge, climbing everywhere with vines, kind of bushes), climbing hills (slopes), laughing and talking the whole time. There was a lot of "oh you're such a good boy, let's hop over the log, oh look at you go, etc..." We had a blast.

Lou and I stayed in the arena. I suspect that if Lou could he'd pick me up before I even thought to fall, it's incredibly hard to feel anything but taken care of when riding with Lou. I never understood the desire for a horse so huge that you couldn't see me if I was standing behind him, smack dab in the middle of his barrel (yes, yes, you'd see my feet). God knows I'd be able to hide from the CIA if I decided to stand behind his rump! He's 16.3 and build like a tank. Riding with him is just fun for me. We actually cantered. I've never cantered. I don't, as a general rule, canter. Lou and I cantered, it was great fun. It was incredible fun really. I keep walking by him and saying "How's my little superstar?" :-)

Who knew, Queen of the Walk, would one day meet, love, and be lucky enough to know not one, but two, boys that let her go faster and faster each day :-)

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It's green cause we all agree that it's green.

My mom believes that we have collectively created our (general) reality. Trees for example, are green because we all agree they are green and therefore it becomes reality for us all. It's perception. It's choice. It's even a bit of compromise.

Reality is a funny thing, it can be different for us all. The reality of my childhood is not the same as my brother's reality and we grew up together. 

If it's really choice then we can choose a better reality even in the face of what is normally perceived to be a negative reality. It's all about perception. You really can change your life by changing your way of thinking. That being said, it's hard shit to actually do. 

When I started this blog, I thought I was pretty hot shit. I was very impressed with myself and certainly not afraid to wield what I believed to be my superiority. I was important don't ya know. I seriously shake my head at that thought today, mostly because my definition of important was so very different back then. I still think I am pretty hot shit, I am still pretty impressed with myself, and I certainly don't doubt my importance or the benefits I bring to those around me. The definition of all that today was allowed to grow somewhere in the experiences over the last two years especially (it's been less however that is a nice round number), it does not lie in the title that resides under my name which is where it was when I started this blog.  

It's actually been really difficult, these last couple of years. I try to write on the lessons and the insights, my goodness have there been a plethora (love that word), and not the difficulty level. It has however been difficult, I can't recall a time period where "journey" fit any better.

I started out confused, angry, and arrogant. Today I am more aware, grateful, humbled in a way that does not equate beating myself up, and proud of who I see in the mirror everyday. I had to look at why I was confused, angry, and arrogant a couple years back; I didn't much care for the view. I have always been smart enough to know you can not change what you can not control. I have not always been smart enough to know that very little is actually in my control, unless you count choice. I didn't.

It's perception. It is a choice to live each day positively and not negatively. It's a choice not to judge. It's a choice to examine and decide finding the positive is the only sane thing to do. It's a choice to stand by yourself; not alone but to stand "by" yourself in the very manner you'd stand by your friend. It's also a hard choice. It's also an active choice. It's a literal exercise everyday and along the way you will likely discover things that you never would have admitted, even alone with only the company of your horse.

You have to think, where is my lesson? How did I play into this? How can I make this a lesson and not a punishment? That's a big one right there. Admitting my hand in yuckiness used to mean on some level I failed, I suck, oh my god the world is going to finally know I am a sham. Admitting my hand in whatever the yuckiness is today means, ok so why did you ...? Sometimes that answer is simply "cause Carol you are human", sometimes that has to be enough. Once there I usually get a hint of the lesson. In each lesson is a piece of the new reality I have chosen.

That's all fantastic, I'm crazy pleased by all of it. Pretty amazed I made it through to this point truth be told. However, holy moly what a pain in the ass it is to look for the positive in a world turned upside down. What a bitch it is to realize you had a direct hand in turning part of that world upside down. How amazingly hard it is to forgive yourself for the same. How incredibly tiring it is to let yourself feel it all the way through without using it as some crazy weapon :-) How sad and uplifting it has been to look at it and let it go.

Today was the first time I had to really put this whole practice of looking at life differently, seeing the beauty, being at peace with me (good, bad, or indifferent), actively looking for a positive regardless of outcome, today was the first day I really really put it to work. Today I had to take all of what I have been allowed to learn over the last two years and apply it. It was intense. It still has me a bit shaken up, it's easy to think it all, it's easy to apply it all when you are applying it to a life filled with ponies and puppies; it's easy to make sense of it all when you've surrounded yourself with the best love there is. It's hard to do all that when you are walking into strangely familiar territory as a completely different person.

We made it through though, she says because I made it through sounds entirely too real and as mentioned, I can change my reality. Right now that reality needs "we" more then it need "I" so we're going with "we"!

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Oh Patch, how I wish we could have some chips and just chat.

Patch loved chips, he'd also stand right next to you and wait patiently for his next chip. For that matter he'd stand next to you and wait for any treat you might possibly have. That being said, he'd stand right next to you, treat or not, and listen to you ramble for as long as you needed.

I will now stop with the although, thereby, and that being said, and for that matter, crap.

You could talk to Patch, you could hang out with Patch. I spent many hours telling Patch things that Patch likely cared nothing about. We discussed everything from the price of bedding to the horrors that came from trying to re-figure life out at forty something.

It'd be nice to chat with him tonight, he's been heavy on my mind. Mostly because there is so much I'd like to tell him. The Princess found a new home. That would have been good news to Patch. Texas went home and Amber was sold. I met Brody, who has always reminded me of you (in spirit), the day after you died. The farm has changed, I have changed. There have been horses, and there is a special one for me again in Rev, but none of them are you. None of them stand in my door and wait, for however long, for the treat they know they will get.

I think of you every day, most days more than once. I don't tear up all the time anymore, mostly I smile and sorta cock my head like Leo when you cross my mind. I wonder, what people think when they see it? I'd bet my last bale of hay that they have no idea that a beautiful soul just ran across my memory flashing the cutest spotted ass the world has ever seen!

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Just a horse, dog, cat, chicken, mouse, spider, or slug

I got to hang out with Bill today. Bill is one of my very favorite people. Bill is my dear friend's little boy; Bill is two. Bill calls me Auntie Cars not because he can't say Carol and not because his mommy is my "real" sister. I'm Auntie cause that's what'd I'd be if the world made the connections I saw fit (helps that his mommy agrees) and Cars because, well because, I have cars. I don't have real live, grown ups can drive, cars laying about the yard. I do however have the cars that Bill likes. There are areas of the house that look a little like a Match Box wrecking yard, Bill loves it. As a result of these two things I am Auntie Cars. 

There is such beauty in a person whom has not been commercialized. I can watch Bill for hours and never get bored with his discoveries. What is especially lovely about Bill is that he still believes "good" should simply be a fact of life. 

Today Perris was getting her feet done so while that was going on Bill and I hung out. We found a slug crawling on the grass. We were actually headed to his store, a little play house, where he sells water (not really). We got distracted picking flowers for mommy when we (Bill) decided he needed the cart for the flowers. We had two dandelions, not a heavy load! The cart he wanted was in the longer grass so off we went. I saw the slug, it was flippin' huge and black. I have, honest to goodness, never seen a black slug. I googled it, they are kinda gross.

In any case I see this slug and point it out to Bill. We both knelt there, our collective butts resting on our feet, and discussed the slug. Bill said "What's that". I said "A slug, can you say slug". Bill says "Auntie bug". 

It was close enough for us to go from there to Bill's version of what it was doing and Auntie Cars explaining that it was climbing and that we didn't want to touch or hurt it. Bill agreed and we sat there watching the slug, repeating the same questions:

1. What's that?

2. Where go?

I would say we spent five minutes on the slug. 

It never occurred to me to kill the slug, it really never occurred to Bill to so much as disturb the slug. That belief that there is no reason to hurt another being just because you don't understand it is lost on "us" anymore. 

If you really think about it, fear is almost always the basis of anger. Not being able to understand something scares "us", I think it is safe to say it scares the shit out of "us". "We" think we are pretty damned smart. Perhaps relate, or even empathize, is a better word then understand in this case, hard to say. 

We didn't kill the slug, or touch the slug, we studied the slug and then left the slug to do whatever it was the slug was headed to do. 

Sure it was just a slug, it could have been up to no good in the world of slugs, it could have been headed home to his family of slugs; we'll never know cause we left him alone. 

It is just simple respect I suppose. Leo isn't just a dog, sure he's a dog but "just a dog" makes him sound less than deserving of humane treatment and simple respect. Just a dog leads one to believe that hurting him wouldn't matter as much as hurting a person. 

I was going to go through the list of animals in the title however I do believe my point is made already. 

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I sure do love my boy

I think of Rev and I just smile. It's really that simple, it's really that amazing.

Rascal Flats covers a song by Hunter Hayes, one of the lyrics is:

"I don't know how you do what you do

'Cause everything that don't make sense about me 

Makes sense when I'm with you"

The song is a love song; the song is about a man declaring his love to a woman. The song is not about how wonderful it feels to wrap my arms around my horse's neck and feel him move closer. 

My horse; how wonderful that feels to say out loud. Rev is as much mine as I am his. It really is that simple, it really is that amazing.

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Rev AKA "Sweetness"

When I walk up to Rev it goes a little like this:

"Hi Sweetness, how is my boy?" Typically there is a discussion about my day, a few questions about his, a reminder that he is super handsome and that I love him, a kiss planed on his big old butt while I look him over for oddities and remind him that the Princess moved so he won't get bit anymore.

I have had the honor of knowing some of the gentlest of horses. Brody, Texas, Patch, and P all come to mind instantly. Some of the gentlest souls have come to me in the form of animals, more than a few of those animals have been horses. Much like people, they were all gentle in there own way, for their own reasons, because of (or as a result of) their individual circumstances. They each taught me something different. They each showed me a new reason to look at the world with kinder eyes.

Rev, AKA Sweetness, is definitely top ten sweetest souls ever. That guy hasn't got a mean bone in his body.  I tend to think of Rev and get lost in day dreams. Nothing terribly specific, it's just when I think of him I sort of drift off and forget that I was trying to write. It's like that dreamy feeling you get when you imagine you're on a beach, with white sand at your feet, and a gorgeous net covered king sized feather bed waiting for you to retire. I get dreamy when I think of him.

I've been dreamy over other horses. I mentioned them above. It's slightly different with Rev, I get dreamy and we have fun together!

I also get crazy selfish with Rev. I honest to goodness don't like anyone else touching him. I actually discouraged my best friend; I've never done that. I think she'd have fun with him, no doubt. I don't however wanna share. The really cool thing is, Rev doesn't really wanna share either.

The other day, a friend was over and she had her friend with her. They had both met Rev and subsequently fell in love with him. There was a lot of "WHO IS THAT?" when they met him. In any case, she asked if she could ride Rev. This posed a problem for me, a couple problems. The first, and most obvious, is that I don't like other people touching Rev. The second was that I didn't like saying no when there was no real reason to do so.

The compromise we (I) decided on was that I'd ride Rev for a bit to "see how he was feeling" and then she could hop on for a few minutes if she wanted to.

Rev was "feeling" fine. Rev let me climb on him with no bareback pad. Rev let me put the side pull on (that I had brilliantly put back together incorrectly) and ride about not knowing how badly I had put it back together. Rev didn't care that I did it wrong and understood when I made him stand there while I fixed what I had screwed up. Rev didn't even care when we switched over to a regular bit and readjusted the stirrups for the fifth time. Rev is used to the fact that his mommy does things ass backward and he really doesn't care.

I eventually stopped torturing my gorgeous boy and let the other lady ride. Rev behaved like a complete gentleman however he did walk her in a circle and stop right in front of me about three times as if to say "Ok I did it can we ummm stop this nonsense?".

I took that to mean that Rev, AKA Sweetness, didn't like sharing any more than his mommy did. we did try. I think we get at least a "B" for effort there.

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Tolerance, picking battles, & Universal Strings

Now that, my friends, is a clever title!


I'm a very tolerant person. I am pretty sure that my tolerance is a result of having to learn, early on, how to pick my battles.


Hmmmm, that's kind of bullshit.


I am a very tolerant person. I have learned to pick my battles. That isn't bullshit. 


I did not do this early on. I'm not sure that's why I am a tolerant person. That part could be considered bullshit, depending your perspective. 


Joshua taught me how to pick my battles. Without Joshua, I'd probably still be sitting here today wondering why the rest of the world wasn't operating as I saw fit. He surely doesn't know this and he doesn't read my blog so he likely never will. That's not a bad thing, he doesn't need to know :-)


Being tolerant though, that might just be a defense mechanism gone good, if you will. I don't like to fight. I don't like to be in conflict. When I am in conflict I can't write, I can't eat, I usually don't sleep very well, all in all I don't do it well.

There was a ton of conflict when I was growing up. What that conflict was matters little anymore; that the time period was fraught with conflict, well that part matters a great deal.

It created a person that can deal with the conflict of others with ease but shakes in her boots at the thought of conflict touching her. 

We'll take something as simple as a hot spot on a dog. If Buster (a dog I know) got a hot spot and Buster's mom called me I'd be able to assure her that 1. she is not responsible for the hot spot 2. it happens 3. it's easy to treat 4. he will live 5. repeat numbers one (1) through four (4). 

Leo (my dog) gets a hot spot and inside I freak out. I'm a horrible dog mom, I know he is allergic, I should have been more diligent, he may never recover, he could very well chew off his tail and then who's fault would that be! I apply the necessary medicines, give the necessary baths, etc... etc... apologizing the whole time. 

Funny little fact, not many notice this fantastic freak out. 

But it happens, it just usually happens inside. Wow, more bullshit. It always happens inside or the above sentence wouldn't really make much sense would it?

It keeps me honest, if only with myself.

I think it's why I am so very attracted to the likes of Katie, Patch, Rev, and let us not forget P or Brody. When I met Katie she had trust issues. P, trust issues. Rev, too gentle a soul for his own good. Brody, he was simply lost. Patch, much like Rev, he was too gentle a soul for his own good. Patch would walk away before taking the food someone else took from him. Rev, same thing. 

I can relate. I do relate. 

I've always had tremendous respect for Katie and P because they stood by their mistrust (if you will) until proven otherwise. Sounds strange, I am sure, however I understand a girl who keeps herself protected until she has proof she doesn't have to. 

The boys... 

It's odd, with Patch I only remember how he looked before he left. I can hardly picture how it was when he first came home. I know he wasn't in great shape but it seems so far away. No matter how I try I don't remember Patch skinny and in need of healing. I remember him proud and puffed up with his blanketed butt shining in the sun, I remember him standing there looking at me like I was a crazy person for placing his lunch near Tex who was bound to steal it. I remember him cuddling (quite literally) up to my brother (who is afraid of "those animals"). I remember him looking at me that last day with more understanding then most people can muster. I remember every day how gentle a soul he was. I remember every day, how little people understood about him. I remember all that and pray each day that a little of that rubbed off on me.

Brody was just flat out lost. I picture Brody and I can remember how he looked that first day. My goodness what a memorable day it was. No more than a week or so ago, I was standing at the gate, wondering about unicorns, rainbows, and why I have a love for those whom many do not understand; I was looking at Brody. 

I love Brody. I think I fell in love with Brody the minute I placed my hand on him. I didn't want to fall in love with Brody. I was so vulnerable the day I met Brody I might have fallen in love with a chicken with a one leg. However, that day I didn't run into a chicken with one leg; I met Brody. He, quite literally, looked like I felt. I looked at him and I understood, completely, where he was. I looked at him and wanted to cry for where I was. I looked at him and wondered who in the hell was pulling the strings that brought us together, a day after Patch left. What kind of Universe does that? In all honesty, I wasn't pleased. 

As awful as it may sound, I tend to resent whomever is pulling the Universal Strings now and again. 

I do understand Brody. If I cared to be honest, I could admit that I think I understand the Universal Strings that brought us together. I'm not sure I care to be that honest right now.

Rev, perhaps we will close with Rev. Rev's a funny story, of course! There was this lady that rescued this mare. The lady that rescued the mare did the right thing and contacted a rescue. The rescue posted on a social network site asking for help for the mare. All good right? Yep.

I see the posts about the mare. All good right? No.

I have an empty stall. Unfortunately I also have experience with horses that have been neglected/starved. I'm stupid enough to say this aloud (rather type it). 

I end up going to see the mare, whom is in quite capable hands. No need for me to be involved. 

Enter Rev. Gelding, no major issues, sweet as can be, could use a good home. Perhaps a few mild feet issues, probably dental, a few extra groceries... Ummm sweet as can be. Dark, Deep, Almost Black Bay. Gorgeous. Sweet. Rescues are crowded; have I mentioned...empty stall, gorgeous, no major issues, sweet as can be? Rev is the only horse I have brought home sight unseen. I didn't even so much as hesitate. Wonder why?

I kinda know why.

Honestly the fact that I could help the rescue was the biggest piece. Rev was nothing special as far as rescues go. Rev was one of the lucky ones. His owners were having a hard time and they sought out help. When I heard about Rev I was pretty relieved that I had this great opportunity to help without the complications that come with a 'typical' rescue situation. If I am horribly honest I'd probably have to admit that I was more attracted to helping the rescue than I was to Rev.

Funny thing, in Rev, sweetheart that he is, I found ... he understood and I didn't have to explain.

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No fitting title

Sitting here tonight, with the page blank and a million things running through my mind, I decided to spend five minutes on a clever title. A clever title is important; looking for a clever title somewhere in the far corners of my mind where nothing much happens is also a great way to avoid the active parts. So my clever title today is "No fitting title". Impressive I know.

That's a cute opening to my subject matter this evening. Katie, my Impressive bred mare. Now when I say Impressive bred I am not talking adjectives :-)

Actually it involves more than Katie, it involves them all and the tough decisions that come with them. It's the responsibility to do what's right for them even when it's not what you'd wish for you. It's the wrestling that comes with the examination of motive. i.e. Are you doing this because it's right for you? Are you doing this because it's right for them? It's the separation from your own wants in order to see theirs properly. It comes with parenting and lets face it that is precisely what you do when you bring an animal into your home. Yeah, yeah we are their "owners". People call it what they will however the job is the same, constant non-stop care for another being, complete responsibility for their very well being and where animals are concerned their fate. Children have the upper hand finally! Children have a level of control that leaves your hands when they discover they can control their fate in this life, animals are completely dependent. Interesting I hadn't thought of that before.


In any case, it's a heavy responsibility and sometimes it sucks ass. Today I woke knowing Kate and I were going to go show Katie to a local woman whom I have tremendous respect for. It'd be great for Katie, of that there is no doubt. Did I want to do it? No. Did I? Yeah. 


You might wonder why I did it if I didn't want to. I "own" Katie, god knows I have plenty "invested" in Katie. Why in the world would I ever consider giving her away (which I failed to mention was part of it, sorry). 


I'm considering it because Katie would be in an ideal situation. I'm considering it because if I put Katie "on the market" she's going to attract people whom are not suitable for her. That's a lot like setting her up.


I'm considering it because I will not do the "work" that Katie needs to be suitable for those that she attracts. It really has little to do with if I want to do the work or not, I won't. I want to desperately. I can't. That's me, that is not Katie. It's the reality that I am not good enough to give her what she needs to get ready to be suitable. Does that bother me? Fuck yes it does. Does it piss me off that I didn't try harder before with her? Yes it does. Do I think for one second that our relationship, as it stands, under saddle, will ever change? No. Do I blame Katie? God no. Do I blame me? Sure that's obvious however I am becoming more comfortable with the fact that if I wanted to be "good enough" under saddle for a horse like Katie I would be. Truth is, I don't want to work that hard, not right now and perhaps not ever; certainly not soon enough for Katie, and that is the most important part.


I don't think I have ever admitted that. 


Another truth is, I don't think Katie is miserable. Katie is well taken care of, a lady on the ground, polite, lovable, great with the kids fussing over her, and has a herd of boys chasing her tail (literally some days). From a mare's point of view...kinda hard to argue with that.


Another truth is, I'm not independently wealthy and as much as I'd love to let Katie live forever in charge of her little world of handsome geldings...


Another truth is, someone else could love Katie and ride her as well. Katie doesn't object to work, quite the opposite. She reminds me a lot of a child who has spent the last two years in Europe :-) She was great today and my lord I love to see her relax and enjoy what she is doing. She tries so hard, you can see it. 


Another truth is, it's in the figuring. The battles that come to life when you have to decide if you are making the decision based on their needs or your love for them. That's the tough part. That's the part that sucks ass, that's the part that makes me swear and leaves me without a title even now :-)

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Katie, my dilemma, wrapped in shades of Bay

Let's see if I have the courage to tell Katie's story, rather our story. At best, it will make a little sense to someone, somewhere. At worst I will stumble about the page and eventually feel better. It's a blog win-win.

I fell in love with Katie the minute Teresa took the blanket off of her that very first day. I know that Katie is not the most beautiful, fancy, pony out there. To me however, she was the pony little girl dreams are made of. I forgot that I was not a little girl, I forgot that I had just started this horsey journey, I forgot every piece of advice and wisdom my forty some odd year old self had and plumb fell in love.

It wasn't long before I had no choice but to realize I was over-horsed, in love no doubt, over-horsed no real doubt there either. We were a mere six months into our partnership when I faced it and went ahead and put her in training with the intent to find her a better match and purchase another horse whom was a better match for myself. We were in no real hurry. Tex was here with me and we were having a blast. Katie was in fantastic hands, learning new stuff and also having a blast.

I often wonder, if I hadn't wrestled with with my confidence and various voices in my head back then, would Katie and I have eventually worked it out? Often meaning about once a day :-)

In any case, we were all going along just fine until I lost my job. Katie came home, the intent being we would go back to the original plan after mom had a few months to figure out what to do with herself. None of us, back then, had any idea what the future was to bring us. The original plan fell through, I must admit it fell through because mom (me) went in a direction that dissatisfied the other party. I must also admit that I had more than an inclination prior to moving in the direction.

We were still fine. It had been a series of adjustments. Patch left us. His passing still brings a lump to my throat. Texas left us. Katie and Brody went up to Diamond Hill for a bit. Rev came into our lives and eventually Lou came into our lives.

We are still fine however I find myself, once again, wondering what is right for Katie. I know what's right for the boys, I've known what was right for pretty much every horse I have had here on the farm. Katie's well being is the only one I have ever struggled with. It seemingly always comes down to me thinking (believing) that I am not good enough for her. It creates a most uncomfortable experience for us both. Coupled with my recent bout of "not good enough for any of them cause you let Patch die", my riding Katie just results in us frustrating each other. There is a part of me that thinks she knows me better than I care to admit and as a result she misbehaves just enough to keep me on the ground. There is another part of me that wants to threaten to take her cute little ass to the mat on principal alone (so to speak); it's the part of me that knows if I could turn off the voices in my head and relax long enough to break through this, selling Katie would stop being an option.

My mom has been subject to many "Should I sell Katie to someone who is a better rider" conversations. She asked me once, countering my remark about the money spent on Katie's training, "What are you doing with all your training?". My first reaction was "Me? For goodness sake that the problem, I don't have enough!" What she meant of course, was the training and time I had put into my career, which by the way, I was steadfastly not using, happily I might add.

Did Katie really care that she wasn't "working"? I really don't think so anymore. She is the boss of the pasture, she meanders when she wants, runs when she wants, kicks up her heels when she wants, and has three of the best looking geldings in Kitsap County wrestling for her attention. I don't think Katie cares that she isn't working. Truth be told Katie has almost decided that "work" as far as we're concerned is horse crap!

Did I care that Katie had gotten to the edge of "I'm a horse that does nothing, thank you very much."? Yes. Therein lies the dilemma. Katie is smart, Katie has lot of training on her, showing Katie after such a long time without work is unfair to her and anyone that sees her. All that means is that I have to get off my ass, over myself, and do my mare justice. Climbing out of the hole that I have dug with Katie is kinda gonna blow but she deserves it, and if I were honest so do I.

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All wrapped up and nowhere to go

Well Rev is home. I must admit the reason I started thinking about bringing him home is certainly nothing to celebrate, he's been lame, however him being home is lovely. He's had a rough month. It kinda started with what appeared to be an abscess and progressed to what seems to be a tendon issue. He is wrapped, complete with a clay poultice, and resting comfortably in the deluxe stall here at home. He has the front yard to himself until he is feeling better and will spend gobs of time being hand walked and wrapped and attended to until he is feeling better. Once he is feeling better we will address the issue of shoes. His heels are low, of this I have no doubt. His feet however don't appear to be the real problem as we stand, wrapped up or otherwise. A couple of days with some rest and support for his legs and we'll look further into the heel situation.

He spent the better part of his afternoon in the front yard with Katie, Brody and Lou hanging out in the pasture. They could all play kissy face over the fence but couldn't mix it up. There was a bit of a fuss when it was time to go in cause with all of them home (Katie is still home for now) we have a two in the barn, two in the shelter thing happening. Problem is neither Brody or Lou want to be away from the Princess. Lou and Rev were in the barn with Katie and Brody outside munching their evening hay when Lou decided that he needed Katie in view. I moved Katie and Brody's hay up a bit so that everyone could see each other, in the barn or otherwise, and things were fine. Enter beet-pulp (comes slightly after hay). Since Katie and Brody weren't in the barn their buckets had to be hung on the post, no big deal this has been done scores of times. Katie and Brody were fine with it but Lou was not fine with the fact that when he took his face from his bucket (he doesn't "need" beet pulp he just gets enough to let him know he is special too) he could not see Katie. This didn't stop Katie or Brody from munching anymore than it stopped Lou, Lou however made sure I knew after each bite that he wanted Katie in view. Take a bite, yell at me (whom was standing at his door talking to him), take a bite, repeat. Rev on the other hand could have cared less, along with Brody and Katie. Katie was nice enough to come see what Lou wanted only to walk away and double Lou's efforts to have her at his window.

I figured I'd throw caution to the wind and let Lou out into the pasture after beet pulp was done. If Rev got excited I'd pull Katie in, if Rev didn't care I'd leave the three amigos out (they have shelter) and let everyone be till morning.

Rev didn't care. He noticed Lou leaving and make one attempt to call out then settled back in without a peep.

Rev is resting in his stall. Katie probably has Lou and Brody tucked in exactly where she wants them. Tomorrow we'll address this spell the Princess has cast on everyone except Rev and change a bandage or two! I see a bit of hand walking in our immediate future and I suspect a nice cold hose is going to make an appearance as well.

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New stuff and the color green

I'm not really a big fan of the color green. I never have been. I do like hunter green coupled with maroon but I tend to steer clear of green in general. My colors typically consist of denim, pink, grey, and black. On occasion I do browns.

Somehow I have decided that not only did Rev need a color, Rev also needed a set. I can't tell you when the idea came to life really. I think it started with the cooler. I wanted a cooler, I didn't have a cooler, Rev needed a cooler. I went to the Hooves Up in Bremerton (great store by the way) and found a nice Hunter Green one. Rev is dark, like black, I figured it would look pretty nice on him. Truth is I didn't really "need" a cooler anymore than Rev did but everyone else had one and one day I'd make him sweat, or perhaps use it after a bath ;-). Next came the decision to play blanket bingo; Katie got the Blue one, Brody got the purple one, and Rev needed, of course, the green plaid one that used to belong to Texas. It's like the horse blanket version of the traveling pants; it has fit every horse that has worn it from Texas to Katie. It also matched his cooler, which by the way still hasn't been used. Next came a hunter green saddle blanket to match my hunter green reigns. All of a sudden I was realizing I had green stuff everywhere! Next came the biggy, I found hunter green shot gun chaps. Now guys lets face it, the last person in Kitsap county that warrants a pair of chaps is this girl. However, they were green, they were my size, they were straight in the leg...I had little in the way of choice. We might not warrant them but we'd look pretty damn cute in them. I then found the perfect saddle (black) along with a black and green head stall set, and a green plaid saddle pad. Ta da! Even his fly mask is lined in green fleece ;-)

The last piece in the set is a green halter and lead rope set from Clinton Anderson & Co., complete with the handy stick, in black, and string, also black.

It's odd, the difference I feel with Rev. I can explain it logically and in a mere three sentences.

1. Katie and I love each a great deal; we are at our best when we are both on the ground, always have been.

2. Not only would I never put anyone larger than myself on Brody, I still haven't decided if I want to make him work.

3. Rev makes me feel like a little girl; excited, giddy, a little embarrassed by how in love I am with him, and completely safe when I am aboard him.

Rev needed a set because the minute I got on Rev I felt safe, I felt comfortable, I felt like I could ride him the rest of my life and be happy. This, in case anyone is missing the magnitude, is huge. It warrants a "set" in my opinion!

One morning I decided I was going to take us one step further and actually sit on him. We had been doing some stretching exercises in the arena for about a week I think when I decided to "throw caution to the wind" and see what he'd do if I tried to get on him. The minute I so much as put my leg over him I knew I'd never let anyone else ride him. My friend and I had talked about the three of us working together, and Rev was certainly suited for her background. I swung my leg over him that morning, doing nothing more than a strange kind of horsey assisted squat being my other leg was still firmly on the mounting block, all I was doing was casually going up and down, and I knew. I knew I'd be happy to ride him from that day forward, I knew I'd probably never want anyone else to ride him, I knew we'd be great together, and I knew I'd be safe with him.

I have felt that way with a few other horses, those other horses were not mine. Let me rephrase, two out of the three of them were not mine. One of them was mine, in the traditional sense ;-) He unfortunately passed away. Only one was ever intended to be my riding horse. I could have rode Tex for the rest of my life and been happy, I can honestly say the same for Perris. Patch I'd have probably rode a thousand feet down the trail and then tried to figure out a way to carry him the next thousand feet just in case he was tired ;-). I'd have wrapped Patch in bubble wrap and made him a bed in the house if I could have figured it out. Riding was not our relationship, heck it was an after thought at best. Had Patch lived I believe we'd have had great fun riding, however he came and left the farm far too soon.

Rev reminds me a lot of Texas, or rather the feeling I get when I think of Rev is reminiscent of the feeling evoked when I thought of Texas. Difference is, Rev, he isn't ever going anywhere. I suppose there is a whole 'nother level of 'safe' there  :-)

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Giant toddlers

The last year and some odd months has provided such growth that I can't even come up with a "back then I would have done this" vs "today I'd do that" example that embodies the changes. The very priorities that drove me a year and a half ago are all but foreign to me; I suppose that is example enough.

I could sum it up with something my mom once told me, "work to live, do not live to work". It's an easy idea on the surface however when you live to work, when you become your work, when your value is based on your work, it turns into a very complicated idea.

I am ashamed at the times I judged someone whom did a job that was considered, by the norm, to be menial. I was so proud of what I had done I sort of bought my own bullshit. This is not to say I didn't deserve to be proud, I spent well over twelve years getting to where I was and I was also very good at what I did. This is to say that at the end even though I was, without a doubt, completely burned out, I was also a judgmental ass. Admitting that was not a lot of fun; admitting it to myself that is. Looking at that and going about changing it was a real carnival ride. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out who I was without what I thought made a person successful.

It meant a lot of change because it wasn't really about my job or my career, it was this ridiculous need to prove to the world that I had "beat the odds". And son of a bitch if that didn't just slip right out onto the page and surprise even me. I was going to say it was about control, which of course is a large part of it, however apparently not all of it. I'll deal with that little slip of the thumb in another post.

Back to the control aspect...

Being controlled has it's advantages, the trick is to use that ability to protect yourself as opposed to hurting yourself with it. Again with the slips. Apparently today is stream of conscious day. In any case, it's not a bad thing to be disciplined. I did have to let go of the things that I controlled to mask the deeper problem. Things like letting the dishes sit in the sink, being comfortable with mud on my shoes, learning to go without make up, not judging the lady that walked into the store with five kids or purple hair or with an excess of weight, all of those things that I did (and thought) to appear (feel) perfect (better than) because goodness knows I didn't believe it. These all sound like tiny things however walking out of the house without make up is a big deal, rather was. Working at least a 10-12 hour day was important. Only a slacker worked 8 hours, I was an over achiever, hard working, etc...and again I bought my own bullshit.

Since everything happened I have said "I used to be important" many many times, that is precisely how I felt for a long time. It's not an exaggeration to say that I still have moments when I no longer know exactly what it is that makes me important considering I have no real job, no real lucrative job I should say. I am not anyone's boss, I'm doing things I'd never dreamed of, much less tried, so I can't spout of the many years of experience I have. I don't have my fancy car with it's heated seats and I don't pull down eighty grand a year. In my logical, judgmental, circus ride of  mind all of that equates not important.

Today was my first day off in six days, also my first attempt at a job outside of the horses and the ranch since "everything happened". Naturally I pick a "job" that requires I work twelve hour shifts as well as one that has a sales type salary, in that I "could" make a lot or I "could" suck and make nothing. No pressure. I also picked something that I have never done and would not be considered a "match" considering my skill set. No pressure.

Today, I spent the day up at the ranch. There is something very cleansing about cleaning up after, caring for, the giant toddlers. I've met many a horse, many a dog, many a cat, a few goats, a donkey here and there, and not one of them loved with motive.

This morning Flirt knocked over her water bucket, Carter had his feeder deal half way across the wall, Quinn was banging on his door, someone shit in their bowl (I can't recall who), and that was just the main barn! Down below Blondie and Lad were running amok because they were starving and I apparently walk too slow. Sophie had hay from dinner spread all over her stall, Cy looked to have been practicing some sort of horsey jig on his poop all night long (think horse shit dust), I threw Daisy's hay in a spot where she had just peed and on the morning went. Still, starting my day with them forces me to admit that as discouraged as I may feel I can not ignore my importance in this world that I have created for myself. A world that is completely changed because I am completely changed. A world I don't have to give up regardless of what "job" I choose to do.

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Leo saves the world

Leonidas AKA, Leo, Mr. Leo, Captain Mouth, Captain Trouble, Gorgeous, Love, My Boy, and of course Baby. Leo knows me better than 99.9999% of the people I know. 

Yesterday when I got home I was a little upset and Leo knew it. Never mind that it was the second day in a row where I had been gone for over twelve hours. Two years ago Leo might have found this annoyingly familiar however it has not been his life for about that and as a result he is well within his rights to be upset. We don't do separation well, let me rephrase, we don't do separation often. Yesterday when I got home though, I was upset and Leo knew it. His problems went out the doggy door and he did what he does best, reminded me that no matter what there is someone in the world that loves me without complaint standing right there licking my hand. 

I try my very best not to raise my voice in front of Leo. If I do raise my voice he is instantly upset and sets about trying to fix the wrong that has found me raising my voice. That being the case, I try to limit it. Problem is my voice raises, I rarely "yell" however when I am upset I can get animated and it upsets him. I adore him and really don't like him upset so I do what I can to control myself. 

Yesterday I must have apologized to Leo five times for my temper tantrum that 99.9999% of the population would not have even noticed. It was a combination of things that wanted desperately to boil over so I ended up doing what I do; I went to the barn, let the horses in the yard, watched them graze and sang to Leo. I sorta pretended to clean the barn, which was clean, much to my disappointment. Yes, I was even upset that I didn't get to clean the stalls. I had been gone from home from 5:45am till 7:15pm for two days in a row, the schedule I had set for myself was proving to be grueling and god damn it I had was looking forward to cleaning the stalls. Not a lot of anything was making me happy right about 7:45pm last night until of course I looked at Leo who was sitting in the middle of the drive way watching the horses and me, respectively. I was bouncing around and doing stretches (of all things) on Brody's gate & singing to Leo. I realized that me continuing to be all twisted up was just going to further upset him so I turned up Kenny Chesney, listened to Brody's song (I believe there is magic) and counted all the reasons why it'd be ok, they'd be ok, and so would Leo. 

Without Leo, I'd have blown a fuse, said some of the ugly things that come to mind when I have convinced myself that the world is going to finally fall apart at my feet and it'd all be because I suck. It's a little nutty however I can easily go from "oh shit the cable bill is late" to "I'm going to lose everything, the horses and Leo deserve better, I'm an awful mom and deserve to lose it all, if only I'd stop being so god damn stubborn I could be in an office somewhere making a lot of money, etc..". 

With Leo, I turn up Kenny Chesney, take his little face in my hands and let him lick my face, apologize for doubting the world and talk myself off the ledge. 

Leo has been saving me since the day I brought him home; yesterday he saved the world for me once again. Figured he deserved kudos. If I weren't so damned tired I'd probably have been more eloquent about it :-)

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Mom's day, today

It's mother's day; I have been a mom for 60.46511627906976% of my life. In two and a half months that percentage will change to 62.7906976744186; in three and a half months that will change again and go down to 61.36363636363637. Fun with numbers! Frankly I think I was born a mom, this is both a good and bad thing.

Today my son is in California and I am in Washington. We spoke on the phone earlier. It's strange to be the mother of someone closer to thirty then he is to twenty; stranger still to be a state away from one another.

Today, I am home with my four legged children enjoying the rare sunshine, waiting for the dryer to finish so I can hop in the shower and then climb onto Brody and get dirty all over again.

I didn't have breakfast in bed or anything like that. Today I got up, went with Leo to the barn to feed all the horses at Diamond Hill. Leo loves this part of the day and honestly so do I. He really believes he is helping and that this part of his day is to be taken seriously. If I change the routine, if one of the horses is in a stall that they aren't normally in, if someone is gone on a trip and not there, he notices and lets me know. It's all very important to him. When we are done we go to the gas station and he gets paid with a pepperoni stick and sometimes a dog bone from the ladies that work there. I wonder if he figures he did extra well that day.

It's all very important to me too. I love the horses at the ranch. They, along with Leo, Katie, Brody, & Rev, wake me up each morning and remind me that this life, this world, although not without troubles, is beautiful and filled with love.

It's what being a mom has always been to me, even before I could spit out impressive percentages!

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Clever titles are overrated.

Have you ever stood in a seriously dirty room, turned in a circle, and summarily walked out? That's about how I feel about my blog tonight.

I thought I'd figure out a clever title and that would keep me focused. As you can see/read, that did not happen.

So I'm stuck in this horribly dirty room hoping for a little focus, if we're lucky I'll get profound.

Perhaps a list?

1. A family came and looked at Katie. I haven't heard from them and am trying to forget they ever came; not because they might not buy Katie. I'd like to forget them because I don't like (in a big way) the thought of selling Katie, period.

2. Rev has what appears to be a cold. I'm trying not to obsess. I am going to put him back on Vitamin C and get him some probiotics, if only to make myself feel better. I don't know that he has a cold but his nose is runny, it was very runny today when Cathy and I were working with him. His eye also had goop, nothing like when he first came still, there was goop.

3. We attempted to put a bridle on Rev today and he was none too pleased. It bothers me that he didn't want anything to do with it. It does not bother me because that means we will have to go slow, we all know I am not a let's jump on the horse kinda gal. Let's face it, the last thing I ask/require is them accepting me on their back. I don't, and wouldn't, give two shits if it took Rev and I months to get there. It bothers me because he was unhappy and I am not sure the cause. It could be his teeth, which I have to address regardless. It could be something that happened to him prior that has him so intent on rejecting. It's hard to say. It really doesn't matter if it's either or a combination of the two. It just means we address everything slowly and we call the dentist for good measure. It bothers me, this idea that he is scared and/or uncomfortable. We will get through it, of that I have no doubt. Still, it bothers me that he is bothered. And so we do another do-si-do around the messy room that has become my blog.

4. I simply must figure out what I'm going to do with myself. This particular room is so messy I only do a half circle before I walk out.

There we have a list, a relatively useless one at that. Normally I am a big fan of lists; tonight I am just a big fan of making them as a distraction.

The last item on that list is the problem, it has me walking in circles that make little sense; as if walking in circles ever makes sense!

What to do? What do to?

Fact is, I can't imagine the care of horses not being the core of what I 'do with myself'. Fact is, that will never find me in a position where budgets matter little. Fact is, I could sell my soul to the software world and make the material problems less material. Fact is, selling my soul is exactly how it would feel. Actually, betrayal comes to mind when I seriously consider it. That's interesting, who would I be betraying? I think myself and the animals as well. I remember sitting paralyzed by fear when I was kicked off the island, I remember looking at the horses or Leo and feeling myself come back. I remember vowing to never find myself in a place where 12 hours away from home was normal. It'd be a betrayal of the highest order, perhaps that's why I liken it to 'selling my soul'. Strangely enough when all this started I was convinced I'd never find myself, much less my way, unless I went back to what I 'did'. I defined myself through my work, my 'success', without that what was I?

Turns out, I am a lot more. Also turns out that figuring out what to do with that 'a lot' is much like an ultra messy room on a bright sunny day; slightly overwhelming, especially when you don't turn the circle and walk out.

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No one left bread crumbs

Sitting here I have written at least five opening sentences. It is not surprising that the topic that finds me unable to write is Katie.

I placed an ad for Katie about a month ago. I didn't renew the ad after the initial seven days expired, mostly because I don't really want anyone to answer the ad! I got a couple responses, only one that was worth my, or Katie's, time.

I have worried over Katie's future for a long time, I'd say it started the minute I saw her. I look at her and I only want the absolute best for her. She has always, always, evoked the very best in me.

There is something very special about Katie that makes it really hard not to fall in love with her. It's not because she is an easy, laid back pony that anyone could crawl on. It's not because she is an angel in the pasture with the other horses either :-).

Katie is smart, sensitive, and tends to think she is a Princess in horse form. She is a bossy pain in the ass to the other horses that share her barn, pasture, and people.

Katie is expressive, if she is upset or frustrated she will shake her head. She will pin her ears and look like a giant snake, not to mention the scariest pony ever, if the dog comes near her; she won't however, hurt the dog.

Katie thinks she is the most important person on the property.

Katie will rub her nose on you like the biggest ant eater you've ever seen however, she would never bite you.

Katie loves watermelon, cantaloupe, bananas, and pretty much any fruit that she is allowed (is safe) to eat. I make homemade horse treats; Katie is the worse tester ever (she loves everything!).

Katie is so clean in her stall that I suspect she'd go outside if only she could figure out the latch on her stall door.

Katie was treated poorly when she was young, by a trainer that asked her in ways that were harsh. Have I mentioned that Katie is sensitive?

Katie was passed around a lot; a lot of people have "owned" Katie. Have I mentioned that Katie is sensitive?

Katie had/has trust issues.

Katie has worked very hard to get over the better part of that. Sarah helped bring Katie to where she is today. The horse Katie was when she began with Sarah is not the horse that enjoys the farm today. A lot of the trust that Katie has found in herself is due to the time she spent with Sarah.

Watching her today with that young girl I felt so proud; proud for her, not of her. I do believe there is a difference.

They arrived and Katie and Brody were in the pasture. I called Katie and she came, they remarked on how she was easy to catch. I don't suppose they realized that any time I call Katie it means something good so why wouldn't she come!? Anyway we stood in the pasture for a few minutes; Brody was very curious to see a halter being put on Katie in the pasture. We walked down to the arena area with Brody in tow and talked a bit.

They had brought their saddles/tack (upon request) and while the trainer and the girls went to get everything, I stood there with Katie and I inside the arena and the girl's dad on the outside with a slightly confused Brody. Brody had taken a real shine to the father by the end of the visit.

I, naturally, had to launch into a "all that is unattractive about Katie" speech. I think he thought I was nuts. He'd ask "How is she with the farrier?" I'd babble "Oh gosh, she's great with the farrier, and her feet are solid, she's actually really easy." All of that is true. It does not have to be followed up by "you know, she's great in all the 'regular horse' ways but she is sensitive and she is smart so she needs someone that is experienced, she sorta expects her rider to know what they are doing, and you know she is a mare, she's not bitchy (oops pardon my language) when she is in season but she is a mare and she is usually the lead mare, not with people but with horses she can be kinda bitchy (oops pardon my language)..." The poor guy, it happened when he asked about the farrier, loading, and even grooming.

I could just as easily said, yes please buy/care lease my horse because she's a great fit for your daughter but oh wait no don't do that cause I can't stand the thought of her really leaving so perhaps this is a bad idea.

A shame no one left breadcrumbs; had they, this path might be easier to navigate.

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