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...

Read More

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....

Read More

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...

Read More