Horse Movies - Bah Humbug

We love horse movies at our house.  I know you’re shocked.  To use one of my most used and well worn Disney quotations, “Why don’t I have a heart attack and die from NOT surprise?” But you might be surprised to hear that we don’t love ALL horse movies.  In fact some of them down right drive me crazy.  

This topic came up on a Facebook group I am a member of that is made up of a bunch of horse crazy women from all over the globe.  Someone happened to bring up and mention how the cartoon, “Spirit Riding Free” drove her crazy.  Mostly because the animations were so wrong - including where they showed the saddle going on the horse and other tack issues.  Now, being as my kids are all quite a bit older than the targeted audience of this cartoon, I have not seen it.  So I googled images and I’ll be honest that it wasn’t easy to find one that showed these tack issues she spoke of.  And then I saw this one.  First of all, Spirit does NOT have a big old white blaze.  

So from what I can tell, there are no girths whatsoever on those saddles.  That means they are staying on with what?  Spit?  Super glue?  A prayer?  I need more than that for my saddle.  Oh wait - on second glance I do see a girth on the palomino (horse on the left), way back there by the flank.  You know, where they put the bucking strap on broncs…. Oh well - there are far too many animated children anyway, we can kill off a few by attaching the girth at the back of the saddle, and therefore the horse.  Or hey - maybe we can kill off some ACTUAL kids if they go out and saddle their pony like that.  That never happens you say?  Umm.. I had a picture saved for ages that a person had posted in a sale ad with the bridle literally on backwards.  Brow band as a throat latch, bit upside down backwards.  It happens in real life.  

In good news - none of these horses apparently needs a bit so they are pretty broke.  They have on full headstalls, with nosebands, even the western horses (who would virtually never have a noseband) but no bits.  In fact, I’m not sure what kind of bridles these even are, there are no browbands. More like a halter with reins attached I guess?  Interesting.  

What other horse movies upset us?  Well War Horse for one.  The part where he trains the big old warmblood to do everything he wants it to by offering it oats.  Yeah, that’s SUPER realistic (she says with a heavy dose of sarcasm).  Or my other favorite scene, where he is trying to get Joey to plow the rocky field and gets in front of him, looks him in the eye and says, “Do it for me, Joey!”  Joey then digs in and plows the field for him.  I’ve tried this training tactic.  It doesn’t work.  China just looked at me and sneezed, then proceeded to go back to being a snot.  

Or how about Flicka.  Excellent book.  Not half bad original film back in the ‘40’s.  The remake a few years ago; God Damn Awful.  Right down to the girl (not the boy main character it should have been) training the shiny black mustang to ride with just apples and love.  Do you know what apples and love get you when training a wild mustang?  Dead.  They get you dead.  

Want to know something else that really bugs me about horse movies?  Bad stand ins.  I get that they can’t use the same horse for the entire movie.  But the same breed of horse would be nice.  Same color maybe?  I remember a horse movie about a jumper.  It was a gray.  A very white gray for all the jumping scenes and a very gray gray for about everything else.  Complete with a darker mane and tail.  I mean c’mon.  They sell spray paint for horses.  The very least you could do it darken up the darn jumper.

And why is the theme of every horse movie almost exactly the same?  Doesn't stop us from watching them.  Like Libby says, "I know that the girl is going to have major daddy issues and take some unbroke, wild horse and end the movie with winning some form of competition and resolving her daddy issues to make them one big happy family.  I'm still gonna watch it."  Yep.  Nailed about every horse movie on the head, right there.  Even Dreamer, and that's one horse movie I actually liked. 

There are a lot of movies that we love though too.  Some of them what you would call the traditional blockbusters.  I don’t think I can ever watch Secretariat enough.  I don’t know how many times I’ve watched the scene from the Belmont where he pulls away from Sham, the actual footage on youtube or the movie footage, I still get goosebumps.  And then there is the overdramatized, but still excellent story of Seabiscuit.  Who doesn’t love a little guy beats Goliath story?  Love that little horse and I love how close it is to the very good book.  

There are others of course that we love but I won’t even begin to bore you all with a personal review of each.  Even the ones that have scenes that drive me crazy still have shiny pretty horses.  So I guess a bad horse movie is still a pretty darn good movie in our book. 

PS - I googled "horse movie meme" and got this.  I'm not even disappointed.

Colt starting reflections

It is never stops surprising me how completely different every colt is that we work with. For the sake of ease of discussion here, I’m going to refer to every young horse that is learning how to be ridden as a colt.  I do fully understand that there are colts and fillies and colts are male and fillies are female, but a trainer that I learned from a while back referred to them all as colts and it just stuck in my brain and never left.  

Training colts is one of the highlights of my life.  Not that I’m not completely scared sometimes.  Scared of getting hurt but more so, scared of failing the colt and messing them up somehow.  I hope that’s a natural fear. I like to think that the day I think I know exactly what I’m doing and stop worrying that I may be doing it wrong is the day that I stop helping horses.  Because that fear is what keeps me researching, reading, watching videos and trying to get better at it.  It’s what keeps me gentle and quiet, yet firm and demanding of respect.  It’s what makes every step forward such a rush.  

Kenya made great strides today.  It’s kind of interesting to reflect back on our projects this past year.  China was super easy, the kind that makes you think you’re really good at training colts, but really the colt is just that good.  I thought Hope would be so difficult because she just really really didn’t trust human beings.  But she was actually quite easy as well.  There wasn’t a buck in her either and boy was she smart.  All the scary stuff I tried to scare her with; bags, strings, hula hoops, tarps, you name it, were not at all scary.  Kuzco was like China, nothing phased him but he was more on the pushy make me side.  And now Kenya.  

Kenya is definitely more on the scared side but she tries so hard.  She also tries really hard at something else; getting the saddle OFF.  New saddle today, with a back cinch, so that meant we had to give our best effort to try to get rid of the new beast.  Boy is she athletic.  Here’s hoping that she figures out that saddle isn’t going anywhere and gives up the bucking sooner rather than later, like when I’m on her.  But she gave it her best and gave up.  And then we were on to newer and bigger challenges.  Today was the first day of ground driving day and she flew through that with flying colors.  We ended with some flexing and some desensitizing to cool down.  I couldn’t be more proud of her and more excited for the next day I get to work with her.

We overheard someone once making a snide comment about our young horses and how we buy and sell.  This is true.  I’ve shown for 3 years now and had a different horse each year.  This past year I didn’t make it through the season with the young horse I had before we found him a new home.  I understand there is a thrill with taking a trained horse to perfection.  I do get that.  And I sure appreciate every time I’ve had a good broke horse or pony to ride.  We do have Peach, she’s a good broke pony that needs finishing and we look forward to taking her to the next level.  But it is tough to beat the rush from the first ride.  The first time they back softly.  The first time they move their shoulder over.  The first lope off, without bucking hopefully.  And when you see one of your colt with their new owner rocking the world, well - that makes all those crazy first rides.  All those bumps, bruises and wild moments worth it.  

So yes - we love starting the colts.  And each one is so very different and there are always stories to tell.  Can’t wait for the next day and the next chance to teach something new and probably learn a little something myself in the process.  

Guarded girls and the men who love them

I’m so over the moon excited for one of my very good friends.  This past weekend her significant other surprised her with a ring and a proposal!  She’s engaged and I’m so happy for her.  She deserves every little bit of happiness and joy after her previous nightmare with a narcissistic cheater.  We have shared many stories back and forth about how we struggled, but also how we have overcome.  So one of the things I shared with her yesterday was this meme with a quote about gaining the love of a guarded girl.  

It might seem like a weird thing to share with someone on this very happy occasion, but I wanted her to know that for those who have been in an abusive relationship like she has, getting engaged is more than just moving on to a big step in life and being with the one you love forever.  It is moving past more than moving on.  It is being able to put all those fears and worries aside and open your heart again.  It’s like climbing the Mount Everest of relationships and she has conquered the peak!  I am so happy and so proud of her.  

For a guarded girl, saying that they need someone is a Herculean effort.  They can open their hearts again to love, but there have been so many walls built up against needing someone that it has become a bad 4 letter word.  I joke that I should wear that sign that Sandra Bullock wears in the movie 28 Days.  

I struggle with asking for help.  I know Tim gets frustrated.  He will often ask me what he can do to help and my response is almost always the same, “nothing, I’m good.”  I remember flat out telling myself years ago that I was on my own and if I wanted something done I better figure it out myself.  Prime example was our fence lines and weeds.  I would ask my ex to use his “$1,000” weedeater (we always had the best tools money could buy) to trim fence lines.  It wouldn’t get done and wouldn’t get done and pretty soon the electric fence wasn’t so electric anymore.  So since I wasn’t allowed to use the weedeater I took matters into my own hands.  I had this antique scythe that I used to clean fencelines.  

It was old, rusty and very dull.  But it kind of worked.  The point is, I learned to do things myself.  And I took great pride it taking care of myself and not needing anyone.  

As the years went on, I became not only proud of my independence, but protective of it.  Failed relationships made me defensive.  No one needed me so I made darn sure I didn’t need anyone.  I was like the toddler that stops their foot, “I can do it myself.”  And I set out to show the world that I could.  

I’m still struggling with this battle day after day.  Tim is simply wonderful.  (I know you’re sick of hearing that and are pretty sure he is a unicorn that farts rainbows.  Let me be honest, his farts are not rainbows…but he truly has been beyond patient.)  Tim tells me that he needs me, which as any guarded girl will tell you, is like a magic remedy.  He also is persistent with asking how he can help.  And he doesn’t really take no for an answer.  Which is kind of annoying in a “I need to hear it and love him for it” kind of way.  

So for all you guarded girls, keep trying to let others in. Open your heart and take a risk.  You can’t experience the joy if you don’t take that leap.  And for all of you in love with us, please just keep asking.  We do appreciate it and when we do say, “sure” or give you some task we wouldn’t mind help with, know that we are stepping out of our comfort zone and doing the best we can.  Be patient with us.  We will love you all the more for it.  

It's all about balance

Working in food service is all about balance.  I’m sure this analogy could be shared with any job.  There are always going to be times when you have everything going right and times when nothing seems to go the way it is supposed to.  I am sure in some careers it is as lightning fast of a change as it is in serving.  Heck - sometimes those changes, those differences, are happening at exactly the same time.  It’s all about balance.  

As a server, you’ll have those moments where you have a table of 12 come in and they are regular visitors.  You remember that the little boy likes cottage cheese with his fish, that little boy likes the “green root beer” (aka mountain dew), the grandpa likes his tossed salad without onions and french dressing and the grandma also doesn’t want onions but prefers thousand island.  And oh, everyone is so impressed and they leave you a 20% tip and then some.  

That same shift you can wait on another table of 12 with multiple kids, split tickets, added desserts, extra condiments and for their $116.00 tab they leave you $6.  Same service, same “sunny personality”, and some people just don’t get it.  It’s all about balance.  

There are times that the restaurant can be slammed and a table asks you for 4 different kinds of pie, some with ice cream, some without and all while you’re on the go without writing it down.  And miracles - you remember and hand them to the correct person.

That same shift, a table of two can ask for extra ranch and 5 hours later as you’re showering the stench of fries and grease off under a hot torrent of water you remember that you forgot to bring them their ranch.  It’s all about balance.

There are times when you literally write a novel for someone’s special order: “I’d like a Drew burger, but leave off the cayenne pepper, put the BBQ sauce on the side, make the bacon crispy, change the cheese to pepperjack, on a gluten free bun and shredded lettuce instead of leaf lettuce” and the cook gets everything done to perfection.  

The next order, they forget to put the garnish of pickles on the side and your customer loses their mind.  

There are times when a table of 2 comes in and chooses to sit at the 6 top next to the window and you think to yourself “maybe they are expecting someone else” and give them the benefit of the doubt.  Thinking this you may go to the table and politely ask them if they are expecting others.  When they respond in the negative you debate whether it is going to be busy enough to ask them to move to a smaller table.  Sometimes you play the game and let them sit there and it works out just fine.  

Other times the door dings for the next 3 tables of 6, 8 and 10 and suddenly you have no free large tables and a bunch of pissed off customers sitting at multiple booths.  It’s all about balance.

I love the people who politely ask if it isn’t too much work for you to make a malt.  (Note to self - it is always too much of a giant PITA to make a malt and former/current employees get what I’m saying.)  Of course you always respond not at all and of course sometimes it really isn’t a huge time concern. So you make it extra pretty, with lots of chocolate or caramel or strawberry sauce, loads of whipped cream and a cherry on top.

However, it never fails that on the days you are busier than hell is the day that you get three malts of three different flavors for the one malt machine.  This is also the time when you explain to the people that you’d be glad to, but there will be a wait as it is a time consuming process and you get the death stare, the rolled eyes and the short change on the tip.  It’s all about balance.  

On the days that you could really use the money and are feeling great, the door never opens and it is like the old western ghost town, complete with blowing tumbleweeds and whistling theme songs.  

On the days that you go to work with “achilles tendonitis” (which is apparently just what they tell you that you have when they can’t figure out why your achilles hurts and they just want you to “rest” it), or your boss tells you “it probably won’t be busy”, are the days that you are guaranteed to get a 12 top, 10 top, 6 top, 5 top and basically run, or hobble, your little butt off for most of the night.  It’s all about balance, and Murphy’s Law.

There are shifts where a customer finds your service unsatisfactory and chews you out in front of everyone.  The public humiliation reduces you to tears and you barely make it back to the kitchen before breaking down.  

There are other shifts where a customer finds your service unsatisfactory and chews your butt out in front of everyone and you go back to the kitchen and explain the situation to your favorite cook using the f word as a filler every other word before uttering a curse upon them, their progeny and all who dare to love them. It’s about balance (and finding healthy ways to not spit in their food.)

There are days when you get to eat your delicious hot lunch complete with crispy appetizers and a slice of your favorite pie for dessert.

But let’s be real, most shifts you’re grabbing pickles off the garnish tray, spilled fries off the line counter or a piece of cold “mistake” pizza as you try to run out the door at the end of your shift.  That’s balance for you.  

I really could go on for pages upon pages here.  I truly believe that if everyone had to work in food service for just a week, the world would be a much kinder place.  But that isn’t happening so until then, I’m going to keep counting on cosmic balance to even things out.

Must be nice...

“Must be nice” - my new least favorite phrase.  Okay, I’m lying - I still hate whatever.  But “must be nice” is a close close second.  You know what I’m talking about.  You comment that your pants are too big and someone responds “Must be nice!  I have the hardest time losing weight.”  We’ve all probably said it, “must be nice”.  If you haven’t you probably have thought it.  But what we forget is that, we don’t know the whole story.  For example, my inner response to that statement used to be,  “You’re right, it is “nice”.  What isn’t nice is that my anxiety is so bad that I’m not able to eat.  My stomach is literally upset all the time.  My anxiety is bad because I’m in an abusive relationship.  So yeah, it’s “nice” that I’ve been losing weight.”  I wish I could say that was a hypothetical situation.  But I lived it.  I also lived the “divorce diet” in which my anxiety and depression caused me to lose a dramatic amount of weight.  I may weigh a few more pounds now, but I will take happiness over skinny any day.  But I wish people knew that sometimes being thin isn’t all that “nice”.  

I still get the “must be nice” comment sometimes about my weight.  It takes every bit of self control for me not to answer, “It is nice that I’m doing okay fitness wise.  That’s because I get up at 4:15 almost every day to work out.  I do work out every single day, sometimes missing family time or supper.  And I work out, as in,  I sweat, push my heart rate to over 150, feel like I’m going to die kind of work out.  I also have to pass up that piece of cake, that candy bar, that extra helping of mashed potatoes.  While the family has extra meat, potatoes, fish, you name it - I take an extra helping of veggies or have a fruit smoothie.  So yeah, it’s nice and a whole lot of work too.”  Especially since I’m not happy with my weight or my fitness level.  I’m working on it being nice.  

Another one I get is when Tim sends me flowers and a co worker says “Must be nice!  I never get flowers.”  It is nice.  It is better than nice, it is freaking amazing.  Mostly because it tells me that he’s thinking of me and cares about me.  You know what wasn’t nice?  The years of emotional, verbal and various other forms abuse in virtually every other relationship I’ve been in.  I guess I figure I’m “due” to have found a good guy.  I wouldn’t wish what I went through on anyone and I certainly wouldn’t begrudge anyone who has been lucky enough to find someone who treats them right, amazing even.  I don’t need to get flowers to know that Tim loves me and is thinking of me - he shows me in a million ways.  So yes, it is “nice” to get them.  

Oh and another favorite, “Must be nice to have kids who get straight A’s.”  Well, I sure can’t take any credit for that, other than I’m sure they get their brains from me.  But we do make education a priority in our house.  Books before anything else and that makes us a little unpopular sometimes.  My kids don’t like being told there will be no phone, no sports, no friend outings, no horses if they don’t get their grades up and/or keep them up.  I’m not asking them to get straight A’s.  I’m expecting them to do their best.  And if the other distractions are preventing that, then I guess we know what goes first.  So yeah, sometimes it isn’t so nice when my teenage girls are so angry with me they storm off, throw things around, slam doors and/or yell at me.  It also isn’t so nice when my perfectionist daughters fall short of their goals and dissolve into tears and hysterics.  That’s really “nice” to have to help with.  But yeah, it is nice that my kids get good grades.  Not always a whole lot of kicks and giggles, but nice.  

I think what is hard is that people are jealous of others without realizing what is going on behind the scenes.  And social media plays a huge part in that.  I think the majority of people put their best foot forward on social media so that leads others to try to measure up or think that everyone has it better than they do.  I can’t say enough that we don’t know.  We don’t know or understand what is going on in someone’s personal life, their history, their heart or their mind.  We are all fighting our own personal battles.  We need to stop judging and start celebrating.  Instead of “it must be nice” let’s try being happy for those that have a moment of positivity in the struggle.  Let’s be happy for them and celebrate our own joys instead of focusing on who may or may not have it nicer.  

I’m just as guilty as the next guy - I’m not going to post the negative stuff on Facebook.  I’m going to post the positive.  I have made a concentrated effort to keep my Facebook as upbeat as possible.  So yes, I’m going to post pictures of my kids getting along, a happy/clean house, my dog being adorable, the horses behaving, and me being happy and healthy.  The reality of our household is that the kids fight, the parents get frustrated, the house gets messy, the dog has accidents, the horses can be jerks, and sometimes I feel like death warmed over.  Our house isn’t any better or different than your house.  

So yeah, it must be nice sometimes, but a lot of times it must suck.  Such is the roller coaster of life.  

https://fielekefrontporch.com/2015/03/17/im-not-a-liar-but-facebook-sure-is/

What we wish parents knew

For most teachers and most school districts we are in the middle of parent teacher conference time; either just finishing up, or just starting or right smack dab in the middle.  This means a time for most teachers to get to meet the parents of their students, share concerns and get to know the families a little better.  I know that many parents get very nervous about coming in to talk to the teacher about their student. Many times this causes parents to get a bit on the defensive before we even get started.  I promise you, there are things we teachers wish you knew.  

We have to push your kids.  We push them because we want them to get better, to improve and to learn.  We challenge them every day and expect more out of them than has been asked of them in the past because we KNOW through years of experience, that kids thrive on high expectations.  We know that when we raise the bar, our students will rise to meet those standards and they will feel that rush of success when they do.  We know that the feeling of accomplishment they get for working hard toward the goal will make all the hard work worth it.  And we know that they can do it.  They can get that overwhelming rush of success and accomplishment that will help them push through the next challenge.  

Your kid is not the perfect angel they may claim to be.  If there is an argument with another student or a time when they have gotten in trouble with the teacher, there is a good chance they were not a complete innocent victim.  I know we would all love to believe our kids would never hurt someone else’s feelings, cheat on an assignment, talk back to an adult, etc… But they are kids.  They make mistakes too.  That’s how they learn.  And your reaction to that mistake will help decide how that lesson gets received.  If you blame the argument on the other child, the cheating on the teacher, the disrespect on someone else, you’re setting your child up to learn that there is an excuse for their behavior.  

Don’t believe everything your little darling tells you.  Sometimes when students get in trouble for behavior that they know isn’t appropriate they want to “get back at” the teacher that had to get after them.  So they go home and change, omit or downright twist the story to make it look like the teacher was out to get them and acted inappropriately.  Their goal is to get mom and dad so fired up that they go bursting into the school with guns blazing ready for a shoot-out at OK Corral.  It’s okay to ask questions.  It’s not okay to fire off a nasty email to the teacher, the principal and the president trying to get the teacher in trouble for something that may or may not have even happened.  Remember that our precious little angels are all about self preservation and the way they recall the “facts” may not be 100% accurate.

With that said, we teachers wish that parents would remember that we aren’t robots.  We are living breathing humans who make mistakes.  We have bad days and sometimes, despite the very best of intentions, we are distracted or hurting enough that we let our guard down and it shows to the students.  Maybe we lose our cool and yell.  Or maybe the “crap” word slips out.  Or maybe we tell a student just to sit down and be quiet right now.  Believe me when I tell you we are sorry.  We know that your child deserves better.  But if you’re a parent and can honestly tell me that you’ve never lost your cool with your 1, 2 or 3 kids acting up, you’re eligible for sainthood.  Imagine having a classroom of 20 and trying to keep your cool all the time, day after day.  Now imagine having a cold, a splitting headache, a sore foot or leg or going through a divorce, a personal loss, a financial struggle and still keeping your cool.  We are human, we make mistakes and we are truly very sorry.  

We wish parents knew how much of our mediocre salary we put towards our classrooms.  We don’t teach for the salary.  We teach because we love students, love our subject or content area, and love sharing it with your kids.  That said, our schools are horribly underfunded.  Often times when we ask for resources for our classroom from our district we get told to see what we can find for free, what can we do without and can we find something online that will meet our needs.  I don’t blame our schools, they are doing the very best they can.  But it means that we, as teachers, are hitting the back to school sales, the Goodwill and Salvation Army, and every book swap or library give away table trying to put school supplies into your child’s hands.  We hate having to ask for help from parents, but I guarantee that whatever we ask for in donations we have already spent 10 x that before we asked for a penny from our parents.  

Speaking of salaries, we wish you knew that no one goes into teaching for the summer’s off.  And no, we don’t get paid to stay home in the summer.  We get paid for a 9 month of the year salary.  Some of us just choose to have that 9 month salary spread over a 12 month span.  And look around at the staff at your school.  How many of those teachers have a second job?  A third job?  Heck - some have four different jobs they are trying to juggle.  Teachers don’t want to juggle endless shifts, lack of family time and night and weekends at work because they are making money hand over fist.  They do it because they love teaching and love your kids.

Which brings us to the fact that most of all, we wish parents knew how much we love your kids.  They are our kids too while we have them.  We take great pride in our students and their struggles are our struggles.  Even though our day with them ends at 3:15, we take them home with us in our hearts.  We worry about them.  We talk about them to our closest confidants and we agonize over how to help them become the best people they can be.  Worry over if we are doing the right thing never stops and sometimes, it brings us to our knees .  There have been more than a few nights when the crushing sense of failure where students are concerned has brought us to tears.  We cry over our worry about not doing enough, we cry over what our students go through, we cry over the frustration of not being able to do more.  And when summer vacation rolls around, we cry about sending them on and knowing that they aren’t “our kids” any more.  

What is love?

What is love?  Love has so many different levels.  There is loving pizza and ice cream.  There is loving Grey’s Anatomy and a glass of wine. There is loving your dog, cat, pony or goldfish.  There is the love between best friends and the million secrets you share.  There is the love you have for your kids, even when they make you feel like putting them for sale on the black market.  And there is the love you have your partner in life.  

And even that love has so many levels.  I love my spouse, but I love him a million different ways. There is that contented, affectionate, I love to cuddle kind of love.  The love you feel when you cuddle next to each other on the couch and watch a movie under a warm fuzzy blanket.  The kind of love when you put on your warm clothes and go view Christmas lights together.  Or the rain is coming down and you stand in the kitchen making soup and cookies for your family.  The kind of warm and fuzzy love that makes the world seem right and everything feels just a little bit better.  

There is that fierce love.  That love that shows it's face when you feel your loved one be threatened or you see them hurting.  The kind of love that makes you want to take on the world, jump in front of a speeding bullet or go all Top Gun on anyone who would dare to hurt your man.  This is also the love you feel when that green monster, jealousy, rears his ugly head.  It’s a fierce, overwhelming and sometimes scary love.  

Then there is that dreamy love.  This is the one I catch myself getting wrapped up in.  When you can’t stop staring at the one you love and just reflecting on how lucky you are.  Where you thank God for putting the two of you together.  When you think back over to that first kiss, that first date, that first time you said the “l” word.  Dreamy love has me imagining us at that elderly couple that helps each other up the stairs, sits on the same side of the table, splits a sandwich and holds hands.  I’m a dreamer at heart, dreamy love is one of my favorites.  

But of course who doesn’t love that passionate love.  That can’t get enough, can’t catch my breath, butterflies in my stomach kind of love.   The love that takes kisses and turns them from “hey you’re home” to the take your breath away kind.  It’s that “can’t live without him/need her” kind of love.  People sometimes refer to it as “puppy love” and say it doesn’t last.  But in the good relationships, in the really lucky ones, it just keeps growing.  

Everyone loves the goofy kind of love.  Where you steal the last cookie when the other isn’t looking.  When you tease, you tickle, you play tricks, you have fun with each other.  You giggle, you laugh and there is nothing like the joy it gives you to have that silliness with the one you love.  

There is another very special kind of love, the comforting kind.  The kind that wraps you up in their arms the minute that life gets tough but also the times when life is great.  It’s the heart that listens when you are worried, scared, happy, angry or overwhelmed.  It’s the person you discuss your bills with, but also the one you talk about your beliefs in who you are, who is watching over you and what your goals are in life.  It’s long talks, prayers, and making it day by day.

When all those kinds of love come together and you find your person, it is that once in a lifetime kind of love.  It’s the kind of love I had stopped believing in but still dreamed about.  I was settling, the way lots and lots of people settle all across the world all the time.  I didn’t believe in all the different kinds of love.  I settled for one or some of one some of the time. But I had a good friend who convinced me that you can have all kinds of love, wrapped up in how you feel for one person.  She was there to tell me that I didn’t have to settle.  She was right.   Fight for love.  Fight for that all encompassing, multi level kind of love.  Life isn’t easy, but some things in life are definitely worth fighting for.  Love is one of those things.  

Baby Kenya

It's time for a welcome blog!  It's been a few days coming, sorry I neglected to introduce her properly.  So welcome Kenya and here's the story...

Saturday we took Darryl and two of his horses up to the Cannon Falls sale.  It has been a lot of years since the last time I had attended a sale at Cannon Falls.  Actually it had been several years since I had attended a sale at all.  I had kind of forgotten how much fun a sale is and how just being there, surrounded by all the different horses of every color and every discipline and seeing so many familiar horse people, is such a rush.  It really doesn't have anything to do with buying or selling.  It's more about people watching, horse watching and enjoying when the two come together.

I didn't have any intentions of horse shopping when we first realized we were going to be taking Link and Freckles up for Darryl.  I didn't even get a catalog.  But then a couple days before I decided to pull up the catalog and of course found a few that I was curious what they would go for.  Two were consigned by China's breeder in IA, Dr. Ken Friday.  One of them was a half sibling to our China doll.  I could not wait to finally get to see her in person.  We had seen pictures of both earlier in the summer when Libby was looking for an Appaloosa to go App showing with me.  Here was our chance to see them in person. 

When we arrived it was a mad rush to get our horses settled into their stalls and get Freckles out and about for people to see her as she was lot 9.  But both Libby and I could not wait to swing by their stall.  We were not disappointed once we got there.  Sweet Romance, the 2 year old filly, was just as gorgeous as the pictures we had gotten earlier.  She reminded me so much of Ellie, similar coloring and build.  Super sweet too.  But the one I fell in love with was China's little half sister.  Immediately I saw so many similarities to my very special mare in her build, her head, even her mane has the same long, yet fuzzy texture to it.  However there was one giant difference.  China couldn't buy an Appaloosa characteristic if her life depended on it, not a spot, not a mottled speck of skin, not a striped hoof.  Her sister on the other hand wrote the textbook on what an Appaloosa should have for loud characteristics. 

Throughout the day, every chance we got, one of us would sneak by the little App filly's stall area and get a quick pet in. Then we would report back who was visiting them and how interested they seemed.  I knew that I would be bidding if the price was low enough.  Prices were definitely up at this sale however so I wasn't too hopeful that we would be getting in on the action.  I just hoped that whomever picked them up realized what a great buy they were getting. 

It got closer to the time when the first filly would be coming in the ring and Tim was already rolling his eyes at me when I told him I wanted him to bid if it was low enough.  Of course when he asked me what was low enough I hadn't really thought that out.  I was counting on him to be the voice of reason because my heart was already bringing that yearling sister of China's home.  I knew I couldn't be in charge of the actual bidding.  I wanted that dark roan filly WAY too much.

The bidding was slow to start and we got in early at $400 (ish?  I really suck at understanding auctioneers.)  Tim and another bidder battled it out at $50 a time all the way until when the gavel fell and Tim told me we had the winning bid.  My excitement quickly was dashed when the auctioneer realized that both of us that were still in the bidding both thought we had the winning bid.  I swear I held my breath as the auctioneer asked for another $50 bid.  Tim didn't have to ask me to place that next bid,  he just did.  The other bidder backed out and it was official.  She was ours. 

I could not wait to get back to the stall and see her.  It was amazing to see the big smile when Ken realized that his filly would be coming home to join China at our place.  I even got a big hug.  Since Libby had left the auction early I had to text her to tell her the good news.  And then.... the big question.  What to call our new pretty little lady?! 

We had always said that if we got one of China's siblings down the road, we would have to come up with another country name.  Even though our China was not really named after the country.  Our China became China because she was dainty like a China doll.  So she was "Baby China".  But now we had another Baby ?  Libby was immediately partial to Fiji.  Which is super cute.  But just didn't seem to fit her.  So we started going through a mad rush of country names when Tim decided to input. 

He felt we were looking at it all wrong.  In his opinion, maybe China wasn't named so much for a country, but more like china - you know beautiful dishes.  Dishes.  He had some suggestions, like Corelle, Pyrex oh and my personal favorite, Crockpot.  While we all had a good laugh, including his family who seemed to think building on Crockpot with the alternative "Slow Cooker" was a good idea, there was no way I was naming our new filly after dishes. 

Libby was the one who noticed that her birthday was the same as my dad's.  And Libby gets full credit for coming up with the perfect name that fit our country criteria and for an added bonus tied into both my dad's first name (whom she shared a birthday with), but also her breeder as well.  Two amazing men named Ken.  Baby Kenya was officially nicknamed and Obviously Chocolate is officially a part of our little herd.