Crisis of confidence, part one

Some people have a crisis of conscience; me, I have a crisis of confidence. It's one of those things that find me hiding in my head, wishing for a magical book that will explain why and save me the trouble of analyzing every possible reason. In case any of you wondered, that process can not only take an incredible amount of time and energy, it can also make the crisis worse. Because there is no magical book to explain the why's of my mind I have found myself analyzing everything for weeks, months is probably more accurate. I believe it all came to a head when we (Cathy and I) were working with Katie and she came close to kicking me square in the head. Now she didn't kick me square in the head and all was well (outwardly); I walked out of that arena shaking like the proverbial leaf. I'm still not sure if Cathy noticed, for the record I don't want to know.

After that day (it was just last week sometime) I found myself in my head once again doubting every horse decision I had ever made. I do some amazing things to myself when I crawl into my head and decide no one will understand. I can go from "it's ok not to be perfect, it is a totally new way of looking at them (from a work perspective)" to "what the hell is wrong with you, you can't do this, people don't "start" something of this magnitude at 40 some odd years old, give up, they deserve better, you're gonna ruin them, etc etc etc" And around we go; the worse merry go round ever!

I knew I had to do something. I didn't like this attack on my confidence one tiny bit and frankly it's not all that deserved, unless of course you're a self conscience freak that expects to be perfect.

I knew if I was gonna get over this I needed the help of a horse that I wasn't going to worry me, at least it seemed a logical place to start. I knew that was neither Katie or Brody. Katie well Katie can be Katie and then I get nervous, she feels that, and arrrrrrrrrrrrround we go. Confidence builder...no. She expects you to be confident and right now I am anything but. Brody is just now at the point where he is healthy, he is just now getting his feet back, I can't ask him to help me find mine. I doubt myself, he is already unsure of himself, and arrrrrrrrrrround we go.

I also knew P was not gonna happen, with her all that doubt goes away. For some reason that horse has never made me feel anything but perfectly ok with whatever we were doing. P's path however isn't my path and I suppose I had to finally come to terms with that.

So I found an Appy, 26, laid back, anyone could ride, build your confidence, personality out the ying yang, blanketed butt, etc etc. Can we say "Patch"? Ta Da problem solved right? How about no. Even I could see what this horse represented to me with no more than a second to step back; being I have been living in my head lately, I had more then a second to think about my motives. That being said, I was also ignoring that and set to go see him, figure out how supporting three was a good idea again, oh and let us not forget, convince everyone I know that I wasn't crazy.

I asked Cathy to go with me to see/meet him. Naturally she wanted to know why and I was finally faced with saying aloud what had been consuming about 90% of my brain power for the last month. I felt like I was trying to learn to walk again and I wanted a horse that already knew how to walk perfectly to help me through it. I could not ask Katie to be that horse, I could not ask Brody to be that horse; this appy whom sounded so much like Patch, him I could ask.

We went out that night, after I showed Cathy his ad. I had yet to ask her to go with me, I waited on that until later. Later yet I tried to explain my apprehension where the horses were concerned as well as my attraction to this appy. I'd like to think the few beers I had prior to attempting to explain had no affect; that being said, I am fairly certain I sounded ... at least scattered, at worse scattered and terrified. I did wake slightly embarrassed by my admissions.

Cathy texted me the next day and brought up Austin. Joe & Stacy were willing to let Austin stay up at the ranch so I could ride him, work with him.

Cathy came and got me and we went up to the barn, Joe and Austin were there. Cathy rode Austin a bit in the bareback pad then I hopped on for a whopping three minutes.

Austin was rescued by Stacy and Joe a couple years ago. He's an older guy. He's about as relaxed as he is lovable. He's not a big guy, he's not a small guy. He has wonderful eyes and a gentle feel about him. He's pretty much exactly what I was looking for when I found the ad for the appy. Austin also meant I didn't buy another horse. Austin was also the horse of people whom I respected. It took me all of five seconds to recognize the gift.

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Lay it on the line

I talk a lot about faith. I talk a lot about honesty. I talk a lot about growth. I talk a lot about healing. I talk a lot about lessons; I wax poetic about how they relate to the horses.

Fact is there have been many lessons, as many lessons as there have been horses. Typically they have presented themselves with uncanny timing; this is not to say that I have always appreciated the timing, much less the lesson.

I suspect the biggest lesson is starting. It wasn't a lesson I'd have anticipated when I started this blog. When I started this blog it was about the growth they afforded me through quite a bit of loss; that still holds true.

A different type of loss came when I lost my job; subsequently bringing an end to a career that I spent nearly fifteen years building. It turned my life upside down in a way that found me rethinking everything I had previously hung my hat on. It shook my confidence in a way that I had never before experienced, the series of adjustments that followed did much the same.

I've climbed through the lessons, more times than not, holding a tail in one hand and a brush in the other. I have learned how to be quiet, I have learned how to be still. I've been shown a level of forgiveness that to this day blows me away. I've learned more about loving another being than I ever thought possible. I've also learned a bit more about grief, acceptance, pride, honestly, confidence, strength, and let us not forget fear.

My confidence slid backward with the loss of my job; really bad timing considering where I was with my "horsey confidence" back then. My confidence really took a hit when Patch died, I wrote and deleted "passed away" I'll muse over that a bit later I suppose. There was, and probably still is, somewhere in there, the belief that I don't deserve them because I went and let him die.

Enter Brody. Brody was in bad shape when he came to me. I was in horrible shape when he came to me. He's spent the last five months eating and hanging out in the pasture, well until recently when I moved him and Katie to the Ranch. They have been at the ranch for about two weeks now.

It's been hard for Brody, he didn't want to eat at first. God forbid Katie be anywhere but next to him, and relaxing was not happening. I was afraid to separate them because his health is, and has been, so fragile. That finally had to come to an end one day last week when I went to go get Katie. Brody and Katie were turned out together and all was well as Katie and I left the pasture with Brody still there. We got about half across the outdoor arena and here came Brody, having broke the fence to get to Katie (not me Katie).

They were separated that day, they had been in stalls right next to each other. He was devastated. He was shaking. He broke out in hives. He screamed. He was pretty inconsolable. I was pretty sure I was gonna lose it watching him, I didn't. We gave him some Quitex (I am sure I spelled that wrong but it is effectively Valerian root). He calmed down eventually that night.

It's hard to watch him be scared, and he is. It's hard to remember that this is all good for him and that I didn't make a bad "horse mom" decision for him even though he is doing so well. I was looking for a word the other night, on the phone with my mom, to describe his reaction to all this change when she suggested hyper-vigilant. Not surprising, she was dead on. Also not surprising is her using the same word when speaking about me (at times).

From Wikipedia:

Hypervigilance is an enhanced state of sensory sensitivity accompanied by an exaggerated intensity of behaviors whose purpose is to detect threats. Hypervigilance is also accompanied by a state of increased anxiety which can cause exhaustion. Other symptoms include: abnormally increased arousal, a high responsiveness to stimuli, and a constant scanning of the environment for threats.^[1][2] Hypervigilance can be a symptom of posttraumatic stress disorder^[3] and various types of anxiety disorder.

Are we really surprised that I googled it for good measure? 

The other night when Cathy and I worked with Brody, I watched him be scared and confused with what was being asked. I also watched him come out of it when he understood. I'm not going to qualify any of this with "we didn't do a lot, it was nothing spectacular, etc.." I do far too much of discounting progress, not tonight. It was huge for him and watching him I felt a huge swell of pride. Not for me, for him. To see him relax, to watch him get a glimpse of who he was, what he could do; it made my heart swell with pride. 

I also related; I understood, understand, what it is like to flail about and hope to goodness you're doing the right thing. I get, got, the fear that comes with "Oh fuck is this (insert new experience after great trauma) gonna finally do me in". I watched him deal with that as Cathy followed him around the arena, gently trying to explain that no, the rope wasn't going to eat him.

Then she put the rope in my hand. Then I wondered if the rope was gonna eat me. Then I felt my hands shake with the fear that comes with no confidence. Then I realized that perhaps if he could be brave enough to face the rope, so could I.

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A new way of thinking

When the animals (starting with Leo) came into my life, I was witness to a new way of thinking. I was presented with a faith that I didn't quite understand. Over the last year I made a conscience decision to change my way of thinking, to shift my view of the world, to allow that level of faith into my world. I did not come to this decision by choice, it was prompted by the loss of my job. That being said it most certainly was a choice, prompted or not.

I can't tell you how many times holding onto that faith, the faith of one that can not imagine lying, found me wanting to give up.

Then I have a moment or two like the ones I had today and I remember why giving up is simply not an option.

Katie was in the arena, just being turned out, nothing work related when Cathy went to get a coffee. I had a new halter I thought I'd like to try. I also had a few bits of information from the night before that I wanted to try with Katie and we were alone.

I got the halter on her and we did perhaps three circles either way, we backed up a few times, well we backed up more than a few times. I found myself walking backward and talked to Katie through my mistake. I remembered that I was holding the rope wrong and told Katie about it, probably apologetically. She shook her head a couple times letting me know that 'yes ok I sorta get what ya want but I think you are doing this wrong' and we started over. Afterward we ran around the arena together, silly as it sounds it is super fun to jog and walk with her; she will follow you're lead and speed (which I suppose is the same thing) and well it's just fun. Afterward we walked around the barn(s) and grazed a bit.

I also took Brody around the property for a bit. We walked around the back of the main arena where Bravo was riding with Cindy and got to say hi to them over the arena wall. We walked around the drive and he got to see Missy and Rio. We walked by the end of the barn and he saw Katie but he only stopped for a brief second and she only cried out for a minute as well. They are working toward a little independence and they are doing remarkably well in my opinion.

None of it was spectacular; all of it reminded me that the faith that I want so badly to embody is right beside me every day and for that I am grateful beyond words, even when I don't understand it.

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Mascara, pony tails, and balance

Sometimes it feels as if this has been my life forever. Sometimes it feels like there has always been a parade of very large four legged creatures running through my life. Sometimes it feels like this desire to save one or two or five or ten has always been there. Sometimes water buckets, hay in my bra, and pitch forks seem more natural then putting on mascara.

There was a time, not too horribly long ago, when putting on mascara could be done without looking, while driving down I5. There was a time, not too horribly long ago, when how I looked on the outside meant the world to me. There was a time, not too horribly long ago, when my grey hair was horrifying.

Tonight I went with Cathy over to Teresa's house for a girls night/hair cutting session. I have done little more then toss my wet hair into a pony tail or a bun since I left Avaland. It will be one year, to the day, in four days. It has not been cut. It has not been touched by a professional. It's had the benefit of perhaps three days where I attempted to wear it down; one day I made it till about noon, one day till nearly four and the third, I barely made ten am.

I have missed the feel of having my hair fussed with professionally. I think tonight I not only found a hair dresser I also found that a bit of balance would be a good thing to think about. I enjoy the girly stuff, I always have. I love my hair, truth be told. I have, of late, found it to be a right pain in the ass. I have neglected it under the guise of "growing it out". This is not to say I didn't want to grow it out, it is to say that a more accurate explanation of why pony tails and no fussing became so attractive is cause it's a pain in my ass. It takes forever to dry, it never does exactly what I want, I am pretty flippin' convinced it'd look way better on someone else's head and frankly I get sick of fucking with it!

In my defense the last 361 days have been filled with horse shit, very little company, and a lot of time spent thinking about what I looked like on the inside.

Balance, I suspect, is in order :-)

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Ima Cool Skip Kid

Katie, officially Ima Cool Skip Kid, is my mare. She is roughly 14.2; I suspect she exceeds the official "pony" measurement however I also suspect that I don't care either which way anymore. I did, at one time, care a great deal that Katie was officially a "pony".  She's also "Impressive Bred"; not necessarily looked at a a good thing. Words like "hot" often come up. Is Katie "hot"; suppose it depends who you ask. I say Katie is as sensitive as she is intelligent and as a result of that well many are put off by her opinions, and she has them. I do think she is "Hot" however I am pretty sure my definition is a touch different (you gotta see her).

Fact is Katie has a bad reputation. She's difficult, she's bitchy, she's this, she's that. I'd like to clear up a few things.

Katie is gorgeous, no one has ever disputed that :-)

Katie is super smart, no one disputed that one either. If there was a "non smart" one in the discussion surrounding me and Katie, it was usually me. Trust me when I say that may have been true the day I bought Katie, it is not always true today.

Katie is sensitive, very.

Katie has trust issues with new people.

Katie makes super mean faces.

Katie bites her boyfriends.

Katie will steal food if given half a chance (she's kinda a pig and would eat herself silly if she could figure out how to accomplish the same).

Katie will give you a kiss if you ask her.

Katie will nuzzle your shirt, jacket, pocket, shoulder, or pony tail if you are standing by her stall and not paying her enough attention. Katie will NOT bite you, she will simply move her nose around like a giant anteater until you relent and tell her how gorgeous she is.

Katie likes to work.

Katie likes to please.

Katie tries her damnedest to do what you are asking.

Katie will tell you if she is unhappy with your treatment of her. After Katie tells you, she will simply not comply, I've seen it happen more than once.

If Katie thinks she is scary to you, she will continue to be scary to you.

Katie doesn't give two shits if she is never in another show again.

Katie hates Mr. Leo. Katie has never kicked Mr. Leo. Katie shakes her head at him every morning when he comes into her stall to drink her water; never once has she done more then that. He understands and leaves, Katie may hate Mr. Leo but she would not hurt him.

Katie shakes her head if she is confused, frustrated, mad, or impatient.

Katie has the cutest nicker ever.

Katie doesn't need to be sold or leased to someone "better" than me. Katie needs to be loved, secure, and able to ride about with her person when we are able.

Katie has that with me, Katie has had that with me for longer then I think I realized. Katie and I will take some good old fashioned lessons together in preparation for spring. Come spring Katie and I will put on super cute English tack and go explore the trails. Katie won't be sold or leased out. Katie is my mare for more reasons than I recognized until very recently.

Katie has proven once again that she is a touch smarter then her person; it didn't take her this long to tell me she was happy ;-)

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Looking closer to home...

A little over a year ago I started this blog. It was after an evening at Diamond Hill Ranch, watching Katie free jump under Sarah's care. I left that evening wondering if I would ever find a place in this world I wanted so badly to be a part of. I left that evening wondering if I would ever do justice to the wonderful mare that I 'owned'. Honestly I left that evening pretty convinced that I would never be able to 'do her justice'. I left that evening feeling a little sorry for myself.

Today, Katie is home. Today, Katie doesn't wait in her stall until it is time to 'work'. Today, Katie eats breakfast in her stall and then she goes outside to play with Brody. Today, I greet Katie with a kiss nearly every morning. Today, when I say "scoot your butt" she moves. Today, I could toss on the bareback pad and  bitless bridle and 'play' (walk / trot in circles) in the arena and never worry. Today, I trust her. Today, she trusts me. Today, I wondered if maybe the belief that Katie was too good for me was played out.

If restarting my lessons is what I want, if a horse at the Ranch I can trust is what I want, perhaps I can look closer to home. Look to the horse that I have loved since I laid eyes on her.

It's a thought...

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"Oh my, you smell like a horse"

Earlier I went up to clean the stalls and Katie came to visit. She likes to stick her head in the window and watch; if I am in Brody's stall she usually gets to munch on the hay he left on the window ledge (he takes a bite, goes to the window, repeat. A lot of hay ends up outside his window and on the ledge!) so it's a win win for the Princess. I tend to sing to her, kiss her big old nose, and tell her a bit about my day.

Today when she stuck her head in the window and I went over to brush the dirt off her neck, perhaps grab a horsey kiss before the real shoveling started, I noticed that she actually smelled like a horse. Because my filter is never in place with the ponies, my first comment to her was "Oh my! You smell like a horse!". Katie usually smells prettier then her mom ;-) I am obsessed with well groomed horses, this is no secret. I have to remind (lecture) myself daily so that I do not go overboard!

Tonight she smelled like a horse; a wonderful musky, warm, honest smell that can never compare to the fussy, perfumed scent that typically follows her around. Instead, she had an admirable amount of dirt on her butt, a smudge on her nose, a twig hanging in her mane, and a healthy dose of horse scents when she leaned into the barn window.

I loved her a little more the moment I took a breath. I didn't even care that she had no idea why it mattered to me that tonight, she smelled like a horse!

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The Princess, AKA P

So Kate and I were talking, those of you that know Kate and I probably have a damn good idea where this story is going!

See there is this horse ;-) I couldn't resist! There is of course a horse in the story, the nice thing is this is a current horse. We aren't sitting about trying to figure out where and which one of us can house a poor horse that is without a home; we are talking about my first horsey love, the wonderful Miss P.

Kate has said that P could come hang out at the barn and I could work with her. P is my dream horse, she has been my dream horse since the moment I picked those tangles out of her mane. I feel safe with P, I know P, I trust P and I plain old love the hell out of that horse. I would have absolutely NO problem taking an hour out of my day to work with P. Those who know me probably have a damned good idea of how huge that is. There are very few horses in this world that I'd feel comfortable pulling out of their stall to work with (not take care of, I'm exceptional with take care of). Cathy has said many times I could ride either Diamond or Cocoa whenever I wanted, I actually got on Duke for a few minutes once. Fact is, I'd probably not have the guts to just decide I wanna ride and walk on over to grab Diamond. This is NOT because Cathy has indicated that I have even one reason to not feel free enough to do just that, it is me and my crazy wackadoo (Kate's word) thought process. This is what I'd do to myself...

1. Sitting in the store I think "Hmm it'd sure be fun to walk (maybe trot) around the arena" (let's face it folks Carol doesn't canter).

2. "Well Cathy said I could always ride Diamond"

3. "Hmmm she even said I could ride Cocoa and he's older" (let's face it folks Carol doesn't canter).

4. "You're not a great rider".

5. "You'll probably confuse them".

6. "Cathy will likely think you are a hack if she sees you and never let you touch another horse again"

7.  Now I'm nervous.

8.  "You'll just make them nervous".

9.  "When are you going to get over this and stop punishing yourself"

10. "Hmmm maybe I'll go wander over and see Rio"

None of that would happen with P. I feel safe with P, I know P, I couldn't feel more comfortable with a horse. I have to talk to Cathy. I really would love for P to be up at the barn with me. I could take an hour out of my day and give her a bath; I'll tell ya what, that girl would be the cleanest Palomino Pony this side of the Mason Dixon line!

I could take her out and we could do ground work (she loves it, really she does). I could take her out and we could walk/trot around the arena  (let's face it folks, Carol doesn't wanna canter). We could practice for trail rides come this summer. P doesn't really wanna go fast, neither do I. She is amazing, out of Hollywood Dun It (she says as if she cares), crazy well bred. She just doesn't want to work too terribly hard and she'd prefer not too many people touch her. Seriously, has there ever been a description of a horse that fits me better than that?! I think not.

Plus, I could kiss her whenever I wanted and I could snuggle up to her mane any time I wanted (she loves it, really she does). There really is nothing like snuggling up in P's mane.

Yep, yep, I must talk to Cathy and Kate and figure this out. P being up there with me would be just flippin' perfect and goodness knows when something is "just flippin' perfect" it warrants a little figuring out ;-)

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There's dog food in the bathroom

I was walking through the house today realizing that it was probably more messy & disorganized then it's been in any recent history. I made my way into the bathroom, looked to the floor and thought to myself "great there's dog food in the bathroom"; that about summed it up.

It's been a messy & disorganized couple of months. I attribute it to the amount of loss this last year has handed us here at the farm, Patch being the most recent.

Texas is going back home to Sarah's on Sunday & I am hoping that will conclude the string of losses this year. We could all use a bit of a break. At least with Texas I know he's gonna be just as loved as he ever was so although I've shed the tears and will do more of the same this weekend I can do so knowing he's going to be fine. It's a hell of a long way from the grief that we felt when Patch left, however it is grief nonetheless. I'll miss the big guy beyond what I am willing to express right now; I'm a little tired of crying on my blog.

So after finding the dog food in the bathroom; I still don't know why Leo brought two pieces in there, he wouldn't say. In any case afterward I went about cleaning the kitchen up a bit, vacuumed, and started on the remaining blankets I have here to wash. The dog food is still in the bathroom, baby steps people, baby steps. I feel better, I didn't cry today, my eyes are finally back to their normal size and I can walk through the front room, if not the bathroom, and not shake my head in disgust at my lack of housekeeping skills these last few weeks!

Tomorrow I work at the Fishline which always brings a smile. Tonight we'll burn some cardboard in the fire-pit, sit around listen to the ponies eat, and enjoy the view.

Perhaps I'll get the motivation to pick up Leo's leftovers before days end however if not, in the grand scheme of things when dog food in the bathroom is my biggest problem of the day I guess I ought not complain!

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CraigsList.Org & Masochistic Tendencies

I comb the For Sale listings in "Farm & Garden" on CraigsList daily. I do not "browse" I comb. It is an addiction and slightly masochistic considering what I am "combing" for. Ponies, ponies, and more ponies. Ponies that have served their "owners" and find themselves at 20 with no "job", rendering them "useless". Ponies that were bred cause "babies are cute". Ponies that have had one tragedy followed by the next. Ponies that, for the most part, no one wants.

This is not to say there are not legitimate sales on Craigslist.

This is to say that my bleeding heart, tree hugging, animal loving, liberal self can't seem to find her way to any ad that displays a perfectly good pony/horse owned by a person I'd respect. I gloss over those, they don't have a "story"; well perhaps it's more that their "story" is not tragic enough to catch my eye.

Every day there is a pony (horse) out there that someone wants to discard as if it matters less than last nights left overs. Scratch that, every day there are scores of ponies (horses) on there that no one wants for one reason or the next and the only hope is to "get rid of" said pony (horse).

The pony is old, the pony is more work then the person thought, the grand kids changed their minds, the kid went off to college, the pony is more work then the person thought...

Disposable.

It turns my stomach and I'm not a "horse person" (by traditional definition). It makes me question "horse people" and "dog people" and every other kind of "people" when used in conjunction. It makes me glad that I am yet to be classified.

In the same breath it is a little masochistic to comb craiglist looking at ponies (horses) I can't help. It's a lot masochistic to go looking for examples of that every day.

There should be an application that blocks ads that contain the words "has been with us for fifteen years but..." or "would be a great kids pony with a little work..." or "was a broodmare for the last two/five/ten years but could be..." or "bought the pony for my grandkids/husband/friends to ride but..."

Disposable.

Breaks my heart, just breaks my heart; slightly masochistic to keep going back.

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He really does make me smile

Brody was great tonight when I insisted that he needed jamma's.

He really does make me smile.

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Time travel, past lives, and all that we become

26 years, one month, and ten days ago I gave birth to my son Joshua.

Five or so minutes ago I shed a few tears for that girl. Leo was on the porch and heard me, he came over to my chair, licked my hand, climbed up on the chair arm and rested his head on my arm for a minute before settling under my desk. How anyone can discount the compassion in animals I'll never know.

It also brought me back to today. Sitting here today I like who I am, I also respect the girl I was back then. The former is a statement that has held true for awhile, the latter is very recent.

About two weeks ago a friend of mine changed the very fabric of my life by locating the man whom had fathered Joshua. To say this was a shock is probably the understatement of my life, as well as Joshua's. Two weeks ago I started looking back, remembering things I had long since forgotten, examining decisions made by a person I was so far away from being today that I spent a lot of time shaking my head. I must admit, I had forgotten all about her; it all feels like five lifetimes ago. I still can't put it to words, I still don't understand it all, I still have no idea how it will shake out. I'm still desperately confused about what this means for myself and the one person in the world that I'd lay over railroad tracks for. There is nothing that compares to what you feel for your child, there are very few words that can do it justice. I rarely write on Joshua because of that, today is no different, it's still nearly impossible for me to write about him.

Today what is different is that I do know that the very confused little girl that gave birth to him deserves some respect. Hiding her in some closet because she was a mere 16 is grossly unfair. To know that I was still punishing her and judging her is hard to process. When had I forgotten that she was the reason I made it through what could have turned into a teen-aged tragedy? Why had I forgotten that?

In speaking to my mom last night I gushed on about how great it was too feel like myself again; it had been two weeks since I felt even close to normal and I attributed this to an epiphany I had standing around the barn feeding everyone their last meal of the day. I was talking to Katie for a few minutes about her crabby face behavior and kissing her nose when it hit me that I was actually a pretty damned good person in spite of all the chaos that colored my early years. I wasn't bitter, I wasn't angry, my life hadn't been a statistic; I was actually a pretty darned good person. I had no reason to carry this shame surrounding my age when Joshua was born, I actually had reason to be proud of who I was and what I had done, the odds we had beat. I can't say that I'm entirely comfortable with being proud of it all quite yet however I am closer.

It's funny, not ha ha funny, how the animals in my life continue to remind me who I am. Katie didn't 'do' much, she just let me kiss her nose and returned the favor with a sloppy smudge to my cheek. Still that simple kiss from her reminded me that I was a person full of compassion, love, understanding, intelligence, and faith. Today when I sat to write and ended up tearing up Leo simply came over to remind me that he loved me, that it was ok, that the faith I held onto was righteous. One more huge lesson delivered through the ones that can not speak...amazing, just amazing.

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Self indulgence

I woke this morning, fed the horses in slippers and headed back to the couch to cuddle with Leo. I stayed there until about 10am. I had a dream that Leo got clipped by a car. Later that morning Leo disappeared to the creek and I spent ten minutes calling his name expecting every horrible thing you can imagine. He finally came screaming up the pasture, ears flat on his head, doing at least fifteen miles an hour, covered in mud from his chest down. I was walking up to the top of the pasture pretending that I wasn't walking the fence line in fear that the dream had come true.

We made our way to the beach with the kids and Leo in tow. We walked the beach, turned over logs and saw crabs. We picked up crabs smaller than my thumb. Met a super cool Canadian Goose and gave him my bottled water and a few chips. I talked some other lady into giving the goose some bread and discussed how I could justify taking the poor guy home and feeding him regularly...

Later I went with a good friend to look at a house she wants to buy. I think the Realtor thought we were "together". It was rather funny. Angela was walking about chatting and there I was inspecting, lifting up carpet edges, looking at the ceiling for proof of leaking, cataloging everything that was not perfect in my head, deducting money from the asking price as I walked through; very serious business! It was great to go with her, we laughed a bit, mostly about my inability to see a damn thing at night time however it was good to laugh. To not be so serious.

I also met a cat, of course! I resisted to take said cat home with me. I am convinced the poor thing either has no home or heard through the animal grapevine that I am a sucker for a furry face.

Today I think I am going to spend hours in my jamma pants and slippers, perhaps rake some leaves, clean a few stalls, talk to Tex for awhile and remind Katie that even when she's pissed she's the prettiest little pony ever! Mr. Leo might get a few extra hugs today and goodness knows Brody will as well.

I'm gonna indulge in all that makes me smile and I'm going to do it all day long. The changes have been too many of late and I think a little self indulgence is in order.

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Time & all that jazz

They say time heals. I don't think time heals, it can't heal, it's just time. What you do with that time, that's what heals.

I thought that last night when I was remembering my dad, it was his birthday. I thought that last night when I remembered my son's teenage years. I thought that last night when I remembered my Aunt, my brother, and Patch, I even threw in my software career for good measure.

I'm not even sure why I'm not angry. I'm pretty sure that if I were, it'd be justified.

Then I came back from turning the lights off in the barn.

Having finished delivering the "lights out" hay, standing next to Texas, my hand resting on his rump, my head laid against the same, I wondered how, in the presence of the most forgiving animals on the planet, I thought I could justify my anger. I couldn't.

So tonight I'll go to bed and remember that for all the loss there is love and that is where, and how, time might actually heal

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I could have bought a fish...

Tonight while I sat and took random pictures of the horses from the hammock, I felt the weight of them in a way that rarely strikes me. They aren't perfect; it's not all pretty pictures and lackadaisical romps about the 'arena' or the 'trail system' (on a really good day!).

Katie is pissed, for example. I also think Katie is in season; either that or Texas has also lost his mind! Season or not Katie is pissed and whereas Katie needs to get over herself I need to help her do that in a way that is safe for Katie. What does that mean with Katie in this circumstance? It means it means spending time with her, just normal, do nothing, one on one time, even when I'd much rather let her twirl her big butt around the stall cause she is pissed. Reminding her that yes, she is The Princess however she is Not The Queen, if you will.

Tex has a sensitive eye, I swear to god the boy gets dust and his eye is upset. He is also prone to hurting his foot. If anyone steps on a rock and bruises themselves around here it is Texas. Tex is also afraid of Simon (the cat) and has taken to jetting off from wherever he is if Simon comes into view; Simon has taken to hiding in the pasture...I think he enjoys it...

They break legs...they aren't perfect. I worry.

They need vitamins, they need grain, they need an incredible amount of hay, they have blankets, they get their feet done, they require patience and more research then any child I've raised, they won't let me sleep in and they sure keep me from dancing the night away.

They break legs...

Brody needs about 150 pounds, Tex needs more exercise, Katie needs to get back into training...

They break legs...they cost a small fortune...

Their lives are in my very small hands and every once in awhile the weight of that hits me. It hit me yesterday afternoon and I wondered what possessed me to begin this journey with horses; I could have bought a fish...

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