I've had a long couple of weeks. An immediate family member is in the hospital (not the kidlette or me) and it's one of those eye awakening deals when everything outside the immediate day to day, second by second moments fall away.
I am able to write again because my little immediate world has expanded from guarded to cautiously optimistic.
My thoughts still go to my horses. I've been able to steal away for one brief ride and I'm working to get my horse time back into a regular schedule, I have yet to establish anything remotely resembling a schedule, but the term cautiously optimistic applies here also.
Instead I let my wild and crazy imagination take me away on my horses, much like it did during my horseless childhood days. As I slip into an uneasy doze, the Black has been replaced by my beautiful mare. She takes me for a fast and furious ride. When I drive around town on my mundane errands she travels just outside my peripheral vision, my little dun colt right behind her. Even using "soft eyes" doesn't let me quite see them, but I take great comfort knowing they are with me.
When we hit a difficult patch and I just can't absorb anymore I hear the drum of hoof beats turning to thunder as my horses come to save me, the building crescendo sweeps me away from this reality. I thought this childhood escape was years lost, but it has come back to buffer me and I am grateful.
Our shared horse stories have been incredibly important to me. I'm going to rely on them over the next few weeks as needed. I'll join in on comments and lose myself in them as I read them out loud here in this cold room without the lingering smell of horses go bring comfort.
So I plan on hitting my stockpile of stories you have sent and will add my own as I can. I am going to have to let the tough stories slide for awhile, so expect some more Mort stories and some other warm and fuzzies as they come to me.
I'm a huge believer in the power of story telling, so don't worry if your stories are sad, they will still give us conversation, thought and for me, healing. I'm throwing the blog out to you, I hope you will flood the blog with some grand horse stories and leave me to comments and conversation.I'll still write, but would love the luxury of kicking back and enjoying your tales for a while.
And please forgive me if I turn into Miss Perkypants for, it's temporary and totally fake, but necessary, at least for now.
Great Gotlands sent some much needed humor, and Jen, thanks for the kind words.
Gotta Love Horses…
I woke up real cranky this morning.
The Sqwid kept waking up last night (he is teething AND just getting over a nasty cold). Each time he was up at least an hour. So not much sleep... again.
My wrist aches; I have DeQuervins Tenosynovitis, AKA "the Sqwid is a heavy lump that refuses to let me put him down".
Then I look outside. Despite the Almanac saying that it is now Spring, I see no sign that Winter is leaving. It is sleeting. Big, nasty, wet flakes. Mother Nature obviously hates me (Yes, I am taking it a bit personal). The horses are standing at the fence, wet, filthy and glaring at the house. They are PISSED! Good, I'm not the only one!
I sigh and start to bundle myself up against the cold and wet. I had best go out and feed and blanket them.
Evil Poneh is not too bad off, her coat is thick and long and fluffy; the wet rarely penetrates to her skin. But she hates rain. I know, she's a mustang that thinks she's a TB! I can practically hear her plotting nasty things to do to me.
Big Red is not as well off, while his coat is thick and plush it does not seem to repel water. He gets soaked to the bone quickly. And while it is amusing to watch him get pissed and beat up the Evil Poneh, I should blanket him against the cold.
I trudge out and pour their warm slop into their bowls and toss them plenty of hay to keep them distracted. I feed Red first, just to watch EP stomp around thrashing her head. And she does stomp. All four feet. I giggle. I'm mean. Bwahaha. I'm starting to feel a little better.
I pull out Red's shoulder slinky and fancy turnout shell. Swearing as I wrestle the slinky over his wet shoulders. It's like trying to pull off slim fit jeans while wet. Then I toss on the shell... then I chase after him to try and get it done up since I was to lazy to also pull out the halter and lead. More swearing.
Finally Red stands still and lets me do it up and yank on it to try and get it sitting right. Good boy, he gets a pat.
Then it's EP's turn. I pull out the old quilted blanket I got for $5 at a used tack sale and had to do major repairs on. It kinda fits. (See my priorities?) EP is very good and stands still while I toss it on, understanding that it keeps off the rain and is a good thing. I am almost bucked up when I hear a snort behind me.
It's Red. He has just spotted the "new" horse. He prances over to meet this pretty new burgundy coloured mare. She sidles nervously away. After all, she is at "his" hay pile. I flap my arm at him to keep him off until it get her safely done up. Then I stand back to enjoy the show. It goes something like this:
"Hellooo. My name is Redoubtable. I am a big, handsome boy. See my prancing side pass?"
"Uh, Mom?! What wrong with Red?!"
"Spring is in the air, pretty lady. Heh heh heh."
"MOOOOM! Save me! He's gone crazy!"
"I am strong and fast and have a pretty arching neck. See?"
"Ahh! He's chasing me!"
"Come back, mon cherie! It is love at first sight, no?!" (been watching lots of Loony Tunes lately)
I love horses. I walked away laughing. Beautiful day out.