Observation from Horseback

Why do cars never come up in front and behind you at the same time, forcing you to the far curb until you're over that part in the road with the overhanging branch?

Like, EVERY time.

Stand in the Rain

She never slows down
She doesn't know why but she knows that when she's all alone
Feels like it's all coming down
She won't tun around
the shadows are long and she fears if she cries that first tear
The Tears will not stop raining down


I am back to the 'coke bottle spinning'.

And even if all the things, that consume my time like a sponge drinking water, what good is it?

How can you spend so much time doing good things and be so overwhelmed it becomes work you HAVE to do? I love these people. But I am so tired of all this.

Then what do you do with the guilt that results from that that?

And the fear's whispering, if she stands, she'll fall down
She wants to be found
The only way out is through everything she's running from
Wants to give up and lie down.

Update

Rode past there this morning. I heard two puppies yap, but that was all. If it was possible to catch them, I would have tried to catch them. Even played around with the idea of bringing food there and making sure they kept fed.

And then . . .

There are just no good answers here.



What a rotten start to the week.

A Dog Story

When I ride to work I go back behind the elementary. It's all wooded and peaceful. Probably the best part of my ride.

The only problem is that there is a mama dog - probably a drop off, who has about 6 puppies. You can see her ribs and backbone from the back of a horse. She is very protective, snarling and barking right up underneath Tesster. And while Tess usually loves to go after dogs (she has a distinct sadistic streak), she does not like this dog. I don't understand, but it must be saying things only she can understand, because she flat out wants to bolt away from her and all the little yappy pups who follow her lead. It's irritating. Still, I feel bad for the mama who obviously is starving trying to keep her puppies fed.

That all changed this week. The mama dog was gone. I was met with half hearted barks and tails tucked as I rode home Friday. They were alone. And it occurred to me that the mama must have been killed. The puppies were now on their own. Probably because some person didn't find $80.00 to get a dog fixed.

Next time I ride I'll look for her, but I don't think she's coming back. She wouldn't have left those puppies all by themselves to contend with the huge black and white thing if she had been able to.

Bummer. Big time.

Back in the saddle

Like Jaci, I'm trying to get back into the Blog stuff. It's just hard, but I know how much I look forward to reading other peoples stuff. Maybe you all miss me..

It's Friday and the weekend is packed. I hate it when I do that, but I ALWAYS do that!
Tesster is out back, waiting on me. She calls really loud when anyone walks out the pack of PAC, hoping it's me ready to get home. She is kinda puny - thinking i might need to get some penicillin in her. also, she has a shoe loose and a horizontal crack on her right fore. Hate to think I'm gonna have to ride Chief in instead of her.

Good thing I'm sure of my salvation.

Brymer has finally begun to come out of his stroke. That seems to happen much more frequently than before. that sends me into a spiraling mood.

Have a riding lesson, so I'm out the door to get started on the ride home. It's cool today. Only 95 degrees.

Well, this is depressing.

The sun . .. ohmiword, the sun. This heat is almost frightening. It waits, crouched and ready to destroy. The door has become an oven door. The grass looks tired. The tomatoes are dying, the horse sweat in the shade, under the fans. I abhor the heat. Always have.

The House is quiet now. Back to Robert and I. And Nellie. And Brymer. Work is quietly impossible - I will never be finished. Tess is patiently waiting to head home. I am dreading the walk out to throw on the saddle.

But the horses need hay, Nellie needs to come back inside and I have to see how Brymer is now. He stroked this morning.

Like - - Wow

The funniest thing about all the hub bub over the KSAT interview is the way I feel when people make a big deal out of it.

It's a self image thing. I hate the way I look and I work to look better and I don't and I HATE to have people notice me. People always think I'm joking when I say that, but those who know me know.

I thought all this would be fun, but I hadn't realized how it would grow. It makes me squirm to be under the microscope. I now know - LOTS of people have called- that I am and have been watched for a while.

I told Meg the other day that it made me uncomfortable to have people looking at me. And she said: "Duh! You're on a black and white horse in the middle of town. What do you expect?"

'Duh' is right.

But it's my personality. I have to learn to deal with all this or hire some pretty , witty chick to play 'me' through it.

Thanks Darla

When I blew up at Stacy, I found myself irritated - no, infuriated, most of all by her total lack of anything or anyone outside her sphere. Being European, she sure has a different mid set than what this 'dyed in the wool Texan as soon as I could get here' girl. It is hard to watch and not act negative about her total negativity.

"All Americans are fake, and Texans are the worst.."
"Why do you ask people how you are and keep going?"
"Why don't you and Robert argue? There's no yelling here."
"Why are you smiling all the time?"
"Life is hard and the world is not good."
"There is too much Church here."

After a couple of months of this, I'll admit, I was ready to blow. Stacy just provided one too many opprtunities.
After I chilled a little, I sat her down and told her that unless you put others before self, the world is a rotten place. I told her about serving no matter what. No matter who. I told her: "It's so much better to think good and help others. Can't you see that, Stacy?"

I got a blank stare.

I started the ball. Help me to trust that it is moving. Because I can't see a thing.

I'm headed out again. Have ridden to work the last two days and it's been pretty cool. It's been okay in the mornings, but the evenings . . .?

Now it's 99 degrees and high humidity.

Tesster is offended. But then again, she's the Tesster. what else would you expect?

Stacy

I lost it so totally last night.

When the boys were small, and then growing, I wasn't a person who hollered. I was above that. It just meant a person had 'no control'. In fact, the boys were more frightened of my low demon voice. Besides play fighting, I don't remember ever raising my voice to them.

I screamed at Stacy last night. Something in me snapped and I opened fire. I snarled at her like a rabid wolf about responsibility, taking responsibility, and disrespect of a magnitude I have never, never dealt with concerning my own kids. Then I told her I couldn't stand to be around her and stormed into the bedroom, slamming the door.

To her credit, she was wise enough to take it. Wise enough to take the blame. Wise enough to apologize over and over and over.

But I lost it.

Is that good or bad or both? And how do I stop the shaking of fury that I still deal with this morning?

Just a quick plea

If I have made anyone mad at me this last month, cut me some slack, OK?

Get mad at me later. Not now.

Questions

Why do referees think you pay to see them blow the whistle?

Why do you always wear the wrong colored pants when an accident happens?

Why do you put loving and contempt in the same phrase?

Why is the person who trains you always have bad breath?

Why does your deodorant always roll into those long spaghetti things in your armpits?

Why do you always have too much time and no money or no money and too much time?

Why do you talk to a person who would allow you to go in public with a bat in your nose?

Why do your feet smell only when the whole gang is over for a Spurs party and you kick off your shoes?

Why does a little girl who looks just like Kaia keep coming in the gym?

Why do fleas bodies make a little snapping 'pop' some of the times and other times there's not a whisper even if you cut them in half with your fingernails?

Why do I always start a garden, then let it go?

And why am I so mean to Robert all the time?

Skippin Along . . ..

Spurs lost. Bummer.
Got in a fight with Robert Sunday. Bummer
Found out that the Message IS based on the Greek and Aramaic. Cool.
J to the 5th is coming in the 24th. Cool.
Haven't heard a thing from Rob since forever. Bummer.
Spurs lost. Bummer
Fit back into my black pants. Cool.
Praying for so many right now with no response, I'm wondering if God is still listening to me. Trying to be a patient grown up about it. Ain't working. Super bummer.
New Orleans won again. Big time bummer.
I have forgotten what Rob and Jarred were like as kids. Super bummer.
A big one looming on the horizon. Looking forward with some trepidation. Bummer to the 4th.

Am at a point in my life where I don't have a clue what I'm doing. All lost and confused and resentful. What's all that about?

Added to all that, the Spurs lost.

The Wind Blows Lonley

There I was, trying to get two years worth of paperwork done, while running a showroom with Robert Fuselier in front of me talking all day Friday.

There I was, Stacy next to me as I rushed in for her and ran to Mike Norwoods party @ the Kelly's.

There I was, talking to Amy and Becka and Stacy and Katherine all Friday evening.

There I was, Dralena Kelly on one side, Stacy on the other the whole trip to College Station.

There I was, sitting in the same room with Dralena, Jonathon, Stacy, Paul, Patrick, Amos and Robert, watching a nail biter Spurs game. The room was small, the game ballistic.

There I am, rushing out to the car as soon as the game is over, to go to an Aggies Football game. Dralena, Stacy, Jon and Robert were all in the truck - we were all snuggled close for the ride.

There I am, sitting and watching a game, with Paul and Jon and Stacy and Amos giggling at, and toward and across me.

. . . do you get the point that I was never alone this weekend? It was exhausting to always smile and make conversation. It was also painful.

I have come to the conclusion that having gas is the answer to fixing life.

You hold it in and it makes you feel rotten. You let it out, and everyone laughs and you feel better and even if it smells bad, it's a thing about volume that counts.

Hey, it's my blog. My call.

I'm Full Now

When I snort in really hard, there is this high pitched squeal . .

Would that be air working it's way around the . . .stuff?

The Night of the Allergy

Never had allergies. My whole life - not a one. Then comes April 12, 2008. Oak pollen off the charts, a frount screaming in, and fine particles of dust invading every oriface you didn't even know existed.

It is an interesting sensation to be so tired you can't think of moving, but unable to sleep because you left your ambien at home. So you turn to your left and the congestion sloshes, then empties over into the left side of your sinuses (you can actually feel it go: "Gaal-looop.") Your eyes water and there is the feel of a vacuum as it exits one side and flows into the other. Then comes the drainage, seeking escape. While I was prepared for that stage - I'd stuck a Kleenex up my nose as a plug. When that side gets full, (about 10 minutes) you go to your right side and it starts again.

This was my world on Friday night. It seemed like that night went on forever. Back and forth, "Galooping' my way to dawn.

Then came Emily, Dara, and Mat at 6:30 to begin a day of showing horses.

So it starts again

Have a horse show this weekend. The little girl that is showing Hercules is so tiny, and SCARED!!!! but she is so way adorable that I'm afraid that she'll place because of her dimples instead of keeping her head in the game.

I keep thinking how much I would love to be teaching James, Jules, or Kaia to be doing this instead. I ache so much to have someone who has my blood in them to share a piece of my love.

That's why I think I wrote the book. Just in case Kaia hates horses, maybe her kid will pull out the ancient, unread copy of "If You Wanna Learn Humility, Buy a Horse" that her great grandma wrote back in '07 and wish she might have known me.

Just thinking on that happening makes me smile.


[Insert contented sigh here.]

This Will Make No Sense . . .

If you take a bottle and put it one the floor and give it a violet twist of the wrist, it goes so fast, it jumps and skids across the floor. No path. No sense, just an uncontrollable missile. And you're not allowed to stop it . . It's a sort of vicious game that compels you to wait until it finishes on it's own.

I don't know why I can't. I don't understand that rule . . but I can't ignore it.

And when it finally stops, it hasn't got time to quell the vertigo that the whole trip has caused. It just braces itself for the next hand to start it twirling again.

That is my life.

My prayers are: "God! I'm begging You . . please don't", "Please make me strong enough to bear it", "Please blind me to what You need to do to work Your plan . . because I can't bear watching this anymore."

Qyuestion of the ages

How do people work full time and keep up with anything else?

I'd almost kill to be bored.

March 31 My Psalm

From the depths, I call to You, my God.
From the bottom of my world, I look up to You and plead for mercy.

I speak without a word,
because words that describe this hole do not exist.

I whisper for blessed ignorance.
Spirit, lance my heart.
I can't bear this pain.

I would have lived my entire life
to not know what I know now.