So... last week was crazy and then the weekend has pretty much died off.
We drove home from Truro where we were at a horse trade fair on Sunday night. Bright and early Monday morning, I had to get up to take Shay to ortho. Bright and early Tuesday morning, I had to get up and take mom to the hospital for a gastroscopy and then to a doctor's appointment in the afternoon. Wednesday morning, I had to get up bright and early and go for bloodwork! Thursday, I got to sleep in, but I had a gal coming over to meet the horses since she is going to ride one for me. I can't remember what Friday did, and yesterday was pretty lazy. And amidst all of that, I had to drive dad to Keswick for 7:30 and pick him up for 4:30, so it kind of framed up my day and put me on the road all day long.
Also, I have been thinking. Do guys who still smoke pot into their twenties ever intend to give it up? I am thinking that I need to just stay away from habitual pot smokers anyways, because I want to have children eventually and drugs will not be a part of a household of mine with a baby in it. And I generally think people who habitually smoke pot instead of having a career are kind of stupid, and I think Tiffany agrees with me.
But I digress. I can't seem to attract anyone BUT habitual pot smokers! AGH.
It's all good. I am going to stay single if I have to. *calming breaths*
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Blah
The day had been long. Anger had drained her while exhaustion had eaten at her, all while she had been expected to keep a smile on her face. The day had culminated in a long walk, unplanned, in sandals, on pavement, at least a couple of miles, after sitting as the day chilled and rain threatened, for two hours waiting. She hated depending on other people. The sour feelings and animosity she felt when others failed her had never sat well in her soul. Often, in high school, she would choose to take on enormous projects on her own rather than have to depend on someone else. It was a sentiment she took to her adult life, the inability to depend on someone, to hand the reins of responsibility over. It tired her, because she did everything now on her own.
When she finally got home, the aged wood called to her, whispered her name. She didn't even bother with dinner, the call was so strong, but slid into her workworn boots, leather cracking at the spot where her foot bent when she took a step, mud caked on them. This, this was the right feeling. She could feel the anger leech through the soles of her boots at the smell of hay and manure mingling with lathered horses and hay.
The walk was simple, easy, even though her body ached from the unplanned miles, as though she were floating. It was always like this. She got the notion to go to the barn but never remembered the trip out there. Maybe because it was a routine as old as she was, this going to the barn, or because she was so focused on the goal, the velvety noses, the soft whickers and chuffs of greeting she would hear when she pulled the heavy door open. Mud tried to suck at her boots but she barely noticed it, undeterred.
He was first. This week had been the first time he had been first since his mother died. He spoke to her loudly as he heard her coming up the aisle. He greeted her and "talked" with her often, he was a very vocal equine. She had imagined if he had a human voice, he would never stop with the catcalls. "Hey honey, you're home!"
His soft golden coat gleamed under his stall lights and he pushed his nose against the crook of her elbow to say hello. He had always been demonstrative but as he'd aged she had had to put a curb on it, his enthusiasm could be dangerous and irritating by times. Today, she let him press his forehead to her chest and rest his nose against her stomach, comforting her.
When it was time to work, he put up the usual fuss. Wrapping his legs, he shifted and shimmied, trying to make it difficult for her. She moved as she always did, reprimanding, not unkindly, and eventually he was ready. He flashed under the setting sun as he worked circle after circle around her, muscles bunching and releasing under his silky coat. She thought to herself, "Yes, this is something I might be able to build a dream on."
Before she knew it, her ten minutes with him were over and she retired him to his stall. And then it was her.
She speculated that this mare had never been her first choice. She would not have pulled her off of a lineup before the colt's mother had died. The colt's mother had set a standard for every horse that would follow in her life. She struggled for over a year before she found the mare, waiting for her, just as she realized she had been waiting for the mare for a long year.
There was no work here, just the communing of friends who enjoyed spending time together. She worked away at the mare's coat, the long, loose hairs of winter still greedily clinging to what promised to be a polished ebony coat underneath. Her fingers quickly coating with horsegrease, tumbleweeds of old hair cartwheeled away from the coat, leaving a layer on the ground of enough hair to build another horse. Spring was her favourite.
When she finally got home, the aged wood called to her, whispered her name. She didn't even bother with dinner, the call was so strong, but slid into her workworn boots, leather cracking at the spot where her foot bent when she took a step, mud caked on them. This, this was the right feeling. She could feel the anger leech through the soles of her boots at the smell of hay and manure mingling with lathered horses and hay.
The walk was simple, easy, even though her body ached from the unplanned miles, as though she were floating. It was always like this. She got the notion to go to the barn but never remembered the trip out there. Maybe because it was a routine as old as she was, this going to the barn, or because she was so focused on the goal, the velvety noses, the soft whickers and chuffs of greeting she would hear when she pulled the heavy door open. Mud tried to suck at her boots but she barely noticed it, undeterred.
He was first. This week had been the first time he had been first since his mother died. He spoke to her loudly as he heard her coming up the aisle. He greeted her and "talked" with her often, he was a very vocal equine. She had imagined if he had a human voice, he would never stop with the catcalls. "Hey honey, you're home!"
His soft golden coat gleamed under his stall lights and he pushed his nose against the crook of her elbow to say hello. He had always been demonstrative but as he'd aged she had had to put a curb on it, his enthusiasm could be dangerous and irritating by times. Today, she let him press his forehead to her chest and rest his nose against her stomach, comforting her.
When it was time to work, he put up the usual fuss. Wrapping his legs, he shifted and shimmied, trying to make it difficult for her. She moved as she always did, reprimanding, not unkindly, and eventually he was ready. He flashed under the setting sun as he worked circle after circle around her, muscles bunching and releasing under his silky coat. She thought to herself, "Yes, this is something I might be able to build a dream on."
Before she knew it, her ten minutes with him were over and she retired him to his stall. And then it was her.
She speculated that this mare had never been her first choice. She would not have pulled her off of a lineup before the colt's mother had died. The colt's mother had set a standard for every horse that would follow in her life. She struggled for over a year before she found the mare, waiting for her, just as she realized she had been waiting for the mare for a long year.
There was no work here, just the communing of friends who enjoyed spending time together. She worked away at the mare's coat, the long, loose hairs of winter still greedily clinging to what promised to be a polished ebony coat underneath. Her fingers quickly coating with horsegrease, tumbleweeds of old hair cartwheeled away from the coat, leaving a layer on the ground of enough hair to build another horse. Spring was her favourite.
Friday, May 1, 2009
Cause you know, sister, my heart's been broken...
I hate rain in the morning on the farm. Rain at night is fine, but who wants to wake up to a grim, rainy day? Nonetheless, I must. :(
So my week has been full of adventure since I wrote last (what is it about me and adventures?!). On Wednesday, I had a full day of work planned. I had to take Shay's dog, Psyche, to her at school so she could do a training demo for her French class and while I was gone, mom texted me to tell me that our great dane, Sasha, my mini aussie, Morrie, and Shay's german shepherd, Bella, had run away. I sped home, my eyes open for them at every turn. They are usually pretty predictable where they come out but upon further investigation, I could find none of them. Sasha wandered home not long after I did, and Morrie followed about an hour later, but Bella stayed out.
We figured something was not quite right for Bella because she usually comes home first - she is more than able to keep up with the others, so we figured she might have followed a deer or her nose into the deep woods and got turned around, or might have got hung up on something (even though she doesn't wear a collar). In the afternoon, I got Bronwyn saddled up and went to take her out. It was super windy and she was spooking at everything in the yard and didn't even want to leave it, but she did with some convincing and then did really well on her first solo hack. We went into the deep woods, through lots of mud, I was shouting Bella's name the whole time and she was great. We were out for about 40 minutes, total, I think. I was really proud of her.
Luckily, around 7pm, someone spotted Bella and another dog that we didn't know together at the top of Woodstock Hill and dad and Shay went down and she was standing on the porch of a chalet, the other dog nowhere to be seen. Shay was relieved, needless to say, and she came home, very shameful, as if she had meant to get home before we found her!
And I went to the doctor last night. I was super anxious because it has been, as she pointed out, 9 years since I have been in. I told her about my slew of "issues" (SPOILER: TMI AHEAD!) - dandruff, the acne, lumps on my scalp, the beard I can't seem to stay ahead of, and she said that all signs point to PCOS. She ordered bloodwork and a physical with an internal, prescribed me some cream ($42 cream, no less!) for my face, and a special shampoo for my dandruff so we will give that a try and see if it helps. She also wants to referr me to a dermatologist. All kinds of stuff.
I am super busy right now so I will have to wait until Monday to share my FEELINGS about everything...
So my week has been full of adventure since I wrote last (what is it about me and adventures?!). On Wednesday, I had a full day of work planned. I had to take Shay's dog, Psyche, to her at school so she could do a training demo for her French class and while I was gone, mom texted me to tell me that our great dane, Sasha, my mini aussie, Morrie, and Shay's german shepherd, Bella, had run away. I sped home, my eyes open for them at every turn. They are usually pretty predictable where they come out but upon further investigation, I could find none of them. Sasha wandered home not long after I did, and Morrie followed about an hour later, but Bella stayed out.
We figured something was not quite right for Bella because she usually comes home first - she is more than able to keep up with the others, so we figured she might have followed a deer or her nose into the deep woods and got turned around, or might have got hung up on something (even though she doesn't wear a collar). In the afternoon, I got Bronwyn saddled up and went to take her out. It was super windy and she was spooking at everything in the yard and didn't even want to leave it, but she did with some convincing and then did really well on her first solo hack. We went into the deep woods, through lots of mud, I was shouting Bella's name the whole time and she was great. We were out for about 40 minutes, total, I think. I was really proud of her.
Luckily, around 7pm, someone spotted Bella and another dog that we didn't know together at the top of Woodstock Hill and dad and Shay went down and she was standing on the porch of a chalet, the other dog nowhere to be seen. Shay was relieved, needless to say, and she came home, very shameful, as if she had meant to get home before we found her!
And I went to the doctor last night. I was super anxious because it has been, as she pointed out, 9 years since I have been in. I told her about my slew of "issues" (SPOILER: TMI AHEAD!) - dandruff, the acne, lumps on my scalp, the beard I can't seem to stay ahead of, and she said that all signs point to PCOS. She ordered bloodwork and a physical with an internal, prescribed me some cream ($42 cream, no less!) for my face, and a special shampoo for my dandruff so we will give that a try and see if it helps. She also wants to referr me to a dermatologist. All kinds of stuff.
I am super busy right now so I will have to wait until Monday to share my FEELINGS about everything...
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