7 Day Photo Challenge

I was so excited to get nominated to do the photo challenge that is going around on Facebook.   The “rules” read as follows:  Seven days. Seven black and white photos of your life. No people, no explanation. Challenge someone new each day.

I watched people get nominated and waited and waited for my chance.  And then there it was “So today I nominate my friend… Melissa Anne Andring.”  Thank you Cyndy for nominating me.  I love challenges like this.  I love when positive posts or contests or challenges show up in my newsfeed.  I’d start a hundred of them a day if I thought it would get others to do the same.  How about a “Share your favorite recipe” challenge?  Or a “write something awesome about your spouse” challenge?  Or “share a joke” Saturday?  Something, anything to keep our social media a little lighter and a lot less angry, depressing, complaining or negative.  

I know what thing that has changed about me, is how I use my social media.  Do you know how Facebook shares your memories?  Well first of all, it’s a little like having your ex thrown in your face every other day of the week.  But next year will be better because I figured out that when they show up in memories, you can just delete that post or picture and “voila”, no more memory to show up the next year.  But the other thing I realized is that I complained on Facebook.  A lot.  So one of my personal growth goals a long time ago was to keep my Facebook posts more positive.  I’m a work in progress.  

I fall down a lot.  I started posting positive things I see happening in the world every day.  I made it two days.  Not because I don’t see positive things happening every single day.  But because I’m entirely too lazy to formulate it into a coherent post every single day.  Yes.  I am that lazy.  

But this 7 day challenge I was super excited about.  It combined my love of all things positive and my love of photos - especially black and white photos.  As soon as I was nominated, heck - even before I was nominated, I was thinking about things that really would speak about my life. I didn’t get to take all the pictures I wanted, sometimes I was in a hurry and the day was going by too fast.  But I did grab pictures that at least represented what I do a lot in my life.  

Day 1 was easy.  It was a shot of my classroom as seen from my desk.  Anyone who knows me, knows I live and breathe my job.  When I am not at my desk I am thinking about my job, telling stories about my job, laughing about my job, and yes, even venting about my job.  The picture clearly focuses on my alarming collection of Sharpies (only one container of 2 such collections) and all things organized.  

Day 2 was fun.  I knew that one of my days would be volleyball.  Even though I still have zero desire to ever bump a volleyball myself (I’m not gonna lie - I’m more than a little afraid of the ball) I really have a love of the game.  I do not mind watching a great game of volleyball and of course my girls are my favorite to watch.  It’s such an exciting fast paced game.  There is always something going on.   On day 2 we headed to Rushford to watch them play.  At the end of the game I borrowed a ball and even got help from their coach is setting up the shot.  I’m sure I embarrassed Libby, but oh well - won’t be the last time I’m sure.

Day 3 was tricky only in I couldn’t figure out what would represent my job at the Village Square the best.   A pizza?  We make a dang good pizza?  I thought about taking a picture of my my tip cup and waitress book, but figured a majority of people wouldn’t know what they were looking at.  So what really represents the Village?  Pie of course!  

Day 4 is a little bit of a staged shot to make sure I got some of my favorites.  But it was staged because I didn’t even have any wine, it is actually Spring Grove soda in my favorite wine glass.  Other than that you have it all.  A good book, my favorite blanket and a glass of wine - one of my favorite guilty pleasures.

Day 5 was a hurry up and take a picture of something kind of picture.  Most people probably recognize it as the entrance to Fleet Farm.  I was trying to think of something on the fly on a very busy day and could have thought of something better I’m sure.  But we do have horses and chickens and having farm animals means spending a fair amount at the nearest feed and farm supply store.  Love a trip to Fleet Farm.  There is always something I “need”.  Even if it is a bag of trail mix or chocolate covered raisins.

Day 6  was kind of a struggle at first.  I knew I wanted something to represent the drive to and from work for one of the days.  That drive is how I straighten my head and do some of my best thinking.  It is also how I decompress after work and try my hardest to leave my frustrations and worries about work from coming home with me.  I was struggling with what to take a picture of.  The car?  The road?  What?  And then this beautiful sunrise blossomed over the horizon.  And that little sliver of moon was the finishing touch.  Of course black and white doesn’t truly capture how amazing the colors all blended together, but it was a challenge after all.  And yes - I pulled over to the side of the road first.  

Day 7 was the most fun. Obviously I had to have a horse picture.  And I agonized over which horse to take a picture of, what part of the horse to take a picture of, maybe I should just take a picture of the saddle, blah blah blah.  I’m serious people - this is the kind of thing that I spend way too much time thinking about.  And then, as I was unsaddling Cutie for the night and noticed how much I love her super cool blanket butt, I knew exactly what would represent our herd of POA’s and Appaloosas the best.  

Honestly - I don’t think I’m done with random black and white photos of my life.  Be prepared to see many more of them over the next several weeks and months, heck - maybe even years.  There is something so classic and beautiful about a great black and white shot.  It takes out all the “extra” and makes the viewer really focus on the content in the shot.  Always have had a soft spot for the black and white art and always will.  

Me too

There has been a Facebook status going around to try to bring awareness to sexual harassment and abuse.  The status reads: “If all the women who have been sexually harassed or assaulted wrote ‘Me too’ as a status, we might give people a sense of the magnitude of the problem.  Copy, paste and share.  

It did exactly that.  Especially as we watched our friends share and share and share.  The flood of “Me too’s” on my newsfeed was staggering.  And that was just the people willing to share.  Because there are a lot of people who don’t want to share.  And at first I was one of them.  

Here is the really crazy thing that went through my head.  I didn’t want to make it look like I thought I was all that and so hot that men wanted me.  It almost felt like bragging to post that I had been sexually harassed or abused.  Now, before you start shaking your head, I don’t think I’m the only one.  How sad is that?  How programmed are some of us to think that we would be ridiculed or viewed as egotistical because we were abused?  That’s extremely sad.  And that is part of the problem. A very big problem that keeps getting swept under the rug or reduced to shrugging our shoulders and saying “it is what it is”.  Well, it isn’t what it should be and we need to stand up and do something about it.

But I am going to share one of my stories. One.  You read that right. That means there have been multiple times.  And I’m not unique.  But why share now?  I can tell you why, because I shared it with my girls and I shared it with them to warn them to be careful and to tell them it happens to almost every one.  I don’t want them to grow up thinking it is anything they did wrong, or something they should be ashamed of so I vow to model that behavior every chance I get.  

I distinctly remember I was a sophomore out at some graduation parties with a friend of mine.  We were a small school and even a couple of grades apart didn’t separate us as friends.  I had had enough cake and punch and wanted to go home but my friend was still hanging out.  I think she had a crush on someone there or something.  A mutual friend of ours, senior, offered to drive me home.  We were driving home when all of sudden he pulled onto a minimum maintenance road.  When I asked where we were going he pulled over and literally climbed on top of me, kissing me and getting physical.  I tried pushing him off and struggling against him to no avail.  Then I blurted out the only thing that popped into my head.  “My dad is going to kill you.”  

Apparently my dad had a reputation and the young man knew I wasn’t kidding because that was all it took.  I got a ride home and dropped off and we never talked about it again.  I don’t think I even mentioned it to any of my friends.  Most likely for the same reason I didn’t want to post “me too” on my Facebook status.  I was afraid of what people would say.  And that is a HUGE problem.  Everyone who tries to tell me that we don’t live in a rape culture.  Listen up, that right there is not just me.  That is how almost every single girl or woman feels.  Don’t report because of what people will say about you.  “She’s just making it up.” “She wants attention.”  “She asked for it.”  “What did she think would happen?”  “Did you see what she was wearing?”  Victim blaming is very real and it happens.  All the time.

I’m sharing my story because I’ve gotten to the age and maybe the cynicism that I don’t care if people blame me.  Was I stupid to think the guy was just going to give me a ride home and not expect “payment”?  Maybe?  I can tell you I have given many rides to girls/women over the years and never expected them to put out.  And not all men are bad either.  I’ve gotten rides from lots of guys over the years that were very good to me.  But the truth is, I’m going out on a limb here and state that men don’t get in a car with a woman and worry about being taken advantage of.  Men aren’t taught how to carry their keys to create the most damage. Men will park in parking ramps and not think twice about being raped or assaulted.  Men don’t call each other to make sure they make it home okay.  Men don’t have to wear special nail polish to make sure there isn’t a date rape drug in their drink.  I saw a quote the other day that said something along the lines of, the difference between guys and girls is that from the minute they are tiny, we’ve been teaching our daughters how not to get raped.  When maybe, we should be teaching our sons not to be rapists.  

If I say the phrase “rape prevention” to you, what starts going through your head?  Think about that for a minute.  Here, let me give you the space….

So… what did you come up with?  I’m guessing you had ideas like:

1. Don’t wear provocative clothing like short skirts or shirts that show cleavage.
2. Have someone escort you at night.
3. Always travel with at least two of you.
4. Carry mace, a whistle or some other noise device.
5. Etc…. If you’re a woman, you can continue to fill in this list as you have heard it all before.  

What if our rape prevention looked more like this?

I know, seems crazy, doesn't it? It almost seems like a joke. Which really is the scary thing. Think about that for a little bit.

If you don't believe in gender inequality, think about how many people are afraid of being called a feminist. I didn't say women, I said people. Yep, there are male feminists. I bet I know what some of you are thinking, they must be gay. Nope. Not at all. And here's what else I'm sick of hearing. I'm sick of hearing that feminists are either lesbian, tomboys or butch, ugly, fat, can't get a man, bitter, hate men, etc.... None of which are true. I'm not any of those, but I am a feminist. I love men and women, well people in general. But I do feel like there are gender inequalities that need to be changed. I can't shout it enough.

It all starts small and if we write off that behavior as "boys will be boys" or shoving anything under the rug, we set our society up to be complacent about a lot bigger issues. We need to start at the bottom and allow not even the "little things" to be okay. It's all not okay. All. Our culture needs to be working towards change.

Buying and Selling

What are we buying or selling you ask?  Well, hopefully something, possibly nothing, but it’s a whole lot of everything right now.  If you have ever asked me if I feel a little crazy, this would definitely be one of those times where I feel like there is a lot of crazy oozing out of every pore on my body.  We are “in the process” of listing our home and looking for an acreage to buy in the country.  All you Norwegians have the exact right phrase for this process, “uffda”.  

Selling a home has changed so much since my younger days when my ex husband and I tried our hand at the whole “flip this house” thing.  We lived in four different homes in 10 years.  It was kind of fun, listing was easy and houses sold fairly quickly.  But it’s not quite like that any more, I guess?  There is an actual process and we have a home selling “team”.  And that’s just on the selling side….

First there was Chuck.  Chuck was one of the dozen or so realtors that called and emailed me because I filled out a few questions on an online app to try to figure out what our home was worth.  Note to self - do not do that on a whim unless you want your phone to ring off the hook for the next few hours.   Chuck visited with me about what their team could do for us and then we talked a bit more about our house and which of their team members would best be able to help us.

Next we met with Marcia.  Marcia took the first look of our home and gave us a rough estimate on what we would be able to ask for our house.  She went through each room with us and got us started with her team.  It wasn’t a short visit.  It was a long visit. I admire her stamina.  She was a blast.  I love visiting with Marcia.  She’s a no nonsense person and gives it to you straight.  I admire that in a person.  I am going to love working with Marcia and she is already working her butt off for us.  This lady doesn’t rest, I promise you.

Then it was Noelle who messaged me, but she sent out Trisha.  Trisha is the “stager” aka the person who has to tell you your house is overcrowded and you have too much crap.  That probably isn’t brand new information to a lot of people. The stager is of the firm belief that less is more.  So virtually all decorations need to come out and as much unnecessary furniture as possible.  Libby and I almost had a small heart attack when she mentioned packing and moving out our books and book cases.  That will not be easy.  Especially considering it may be MONTHS before we find something and actually put our house on the market.  How will I live without being able to browse through my bookshelves for the next great read.  Doesn’t seem fair…  The kitchen countertops also need to be cleared, right down to the mixer….  It was suggested to keep a tote of things to “bring back in” when needed.  Really?  People won’t buy my house if I keep a mixer or toaster on the counter?  Aren’t they going to possibly have small appliances?  Do they realize that we LIVE in the house that is for sale?  

Next up will be the photographer.  The professional photographer will come and photograph the home AFTER we get it fixed up and cleaned out.  Their goal will be to highlight the positives and downplay any negatives.  The photos will be just a small part of the photographer preparing our presentation which can also include a video tour of our home and a professional write up about our home.  Then we wait.  We wait to fall in love with the perfect property and list our home.  A little different from the old process that seemed to take one visit and the house was listed.  But I’m only complaining a little.

Which brings us to the other side of this process.  Looking for the perfect acreage is impossible.  Heck, looking for the semi appropriate, give a little/take a little acreage is impossible.  There are so few to choose from and even fewer that are big enough for a family of 6.  We aren’t incredibly picky but, to use that infamous Norwegian word, “uffda”.  I have joked that at the three properties we have looked at so far, we have discovered the carcasses of dead animals at exactly 2/3rds.  I also kind of feel that some of the sellers we have viewed properties at didn’t get the “clean out the clutter and garbage” memo.  

With that said, we have fallen in love with an acreage and lost out on it.  These properties do not stay on the market long.  It was a little heart-breaking for some of us and I’m not going to lie that tears were shed.  It’s hard to remember that there will be other properties and if it is meant to be it will be.  It is also hard to be patient when so many of the properties that we have looked at are so peaceful and the idea of having our ponies in our own backyard again is such a dream of ours.  I can’t wait for the day when I can do chores in my pajamas again.  But the reality is that it may be a long ways off.  

All of life is an adventure and I’m super excited to share this adventure with Tim and the kiddos.  Even the process can be a source of entertainment.  It’s a great feeling to get rid of and purge your own home and to view new homes and imagine making it your own.  So forward we go.  It’s not quite the same as the old days, but new and improved is okay too!  

Mare vs Gelding

I’m sure I will piss off a few people with my post today.  Nothing pisses off horse people faster than thinking that you are making fun of their horse.  We get all defensive and we stretch our fingers and get ready to type all the ways that we KNOW you are wrong, we are right and we will have story after story to prove ourselves.  So, first of all, calm the *(&%&$#@! down.  I am not saying this is true for ALL mares or ALL geldings.  I’m just sharing some funny observations I have made about most of the mares and most of the geldings we have had.  You may disagree.  I don’t really care.  I just had fun thinking about our current herd and most recent horses and coming up with their thoughts.

Without further ado, the difference between mares and geldings is quite notable.  Most mares are a little more sensitive than a gelding.  Geldings tend to be more lovey dovey.  There are all these stereotypes about both.  And there seem to be people who are either “mare” people or “gelding” people and a few souls out there who are truly “stallion” people.  I more of a “not a dickhead” person.  I don’t care what parts a horse has or doesn’t have, I just want them to be not a dickhead.  But when thinking about our current and most recent horses, I did laugh at the incredibly different way they react to many many things.  So I imagined what they would say if they could talk.  Caution - there will be profanity.  I’m pretty sure China (or Peach/Cutie) swears like a sailor.

When bringing food:

Gelding - “Where you going to put the food?  I love food.  Food is my favorite.  Does Sully need some food?  He can have some of mine if he wants.”

Mare - “Where the hell are you going?  Obviously I am standing right here where the food goes.  Put the food in my feeder.  And you there, you little shit.  Back away.  I’m warning you.  I will kick your ass if you look at my food.  This is my food and I get the most because, well I NEED it.”  

When going to catch them:

Gelding - “Oh hi there!  What are you doing today?  Oh a halter!  Are we going for a ride?  That sounds like fun. Here, let me come closer so you don’t have to walk so far.”

Mare - “Oh good Lord, you again.  If you don’t have food do you really need to keep bothering me?  Wait, a halter?  Are you effing kidding me?  Fine.  Let’s get this over with.”

When riding:  

Gelding - “Oh look at that puddle, let me walk around it for you.  No, we are going through, okay.  You’re the boss.  Eww, maybe I don’t want to.  Okay okay - you said I have to, fine.  Water.  Puddle.  Check.”

Mare - “WTF do we need to go through the puddle for?  It’s a damn puddle and I can get around it over here.  I just had my toes done.  I do not NEED to get my feet wet just because you say so.”

When working on lope transitions:

Gelding - “What?  Stop?  Lope?  I’m confused.  Stop again?  What the heck?  Oh.. if I lope off this way you’re happy?  I will do it that way from now on.  If I forget, just remind me.”

Mare - “Lope. Stop. Lope. Stop.  Make up your damn mind because you’re pissing me off.  If you can’t decide what you want to do, I’ll dump your ass on the ground and you can think about it from down there.”  

After getting smacked for some kind of unruly behavior:

Gelding - “Wow.  That tickled a little.  I’m sorry you’re not happy with my behavior.  I’ll do my best not to do that again.”

Mare - “WHAT THE EVER LOVING ….?  Did you just STRIKE me?  ME?!  You have a death wish?  Sheesh.  I’m like sorry or something.  Remind me not to piss you off ever again.”  

After getting rubbed on for good behavior:

Gelding - “Awww, thank you.  That feels so good.  I’m so glad you’re happy.”

Mare - “Right.  It’s about damn time.  Thank you, that feels amazing.  Can we be done now?”

When taking their buddy away from the pasture:

Gelding - “Nooooo…. please don’t take my friend.  I love them.  Where are they going?  Bring them back!  Don’t forget about me!  Can you hear me?  I can whinny louder. Please return.  I’ll never forget you.  Come bacccckkkkk!!!”

Mare - “Good, he’s gone.  He was getting on my last nerve.”

At the show:

Gelding - “This is just like at home.  Should be fun. Let’s show them what we know.”

Mare - “This is NOT like at home.  We don’t have that lawn chair.  Our bridge is a different shape.  Those horses are not my friends, I had better prove to them I am the boss.  It’s too windy.  It’s too hot.  That sand is too deep.  This saddle feels different.  The trailer smells funny.  That person is looking at me wrong.”

Being washed, clipped and banded:

Gelding - “That water is kind of relaxing.  Ugh - I don’t really like it in my face.  Oh!  That tickles!  Don’t growl at me, I’ll stand still.”

Mare - “Holy crap woman!  That water is cold.  Do I look like I need a cold shower? Drowning, I’m drowning, I can’t breathe!  And dang it stop tickling me - I’ll kick your face in and see if you still want to tickle me.  Oh wait - I’m going to be pretty?  Okay - just get it done quickly.  My fans await.”

When practicing a drill at home:

Gelding - “Do do do… la di da.  Let’s do it again.  This is fun.  I love seeing how many times we can do this.”  

Mare - “Is this what you wanted?  I did it correct the first time.  Can we be done now?”

I'm sure some of you think I have a vendetta against mares after reading this blog. On the contrary, if I were to pick one, I'd be a "mare" person. All my personal horses are mares. Maybe I just agree with them? Maybe I can connect with them better. Wait.... maybe we are a lot alike! Whatever the case may be, I'm off to ride my mares! Happy trails everyone!

My friend is dating a narcissist...

So your friend is in a relationship with a narcissist you say.  And not just the guy or gal who is kind of cocky and stuck on themselves, but a real knock down, drag out, manipulative, abusive narcissist.  What should you do?  You’re not going to like my answer.  I’ve had a few people approach me with this exact situation wanting to know how to help their friend or family member in the same situation I was in for too many years to count.  They all want to know what to do or say.  And I tell them the same thing, you’re not going to like the answer.  But as my best friend will tell you, the answer to that question is easier said than done.  The answer is…

Nothing.  You can’t do or say anything to help them get out of the situation they are in.  They need to get themselves out of the situation.  I guess, maybe I’m not being 100% honest or clear here.  There is something you can do to help them.  You can love them.  You can let them know you support them.  You can stand by them.  In fact, if you want to call yourself their friend, you probably should be doing all of those things.  Sometimes it will be really hard.  Sometimes you will want to scream at them and shake them and get them to wake up and see the truth about their partner.  Here’s what I’m going to try to explain, no amount of tough love on your part is going to wake them up.  I know, because I lived it.  

Narcissists are very very good at what they do.  Most of them have had loads of practice with manipulating people.  And each time their relationships go south because an ex finally figured them out, they learned from it.  The learned how to prepare better, lie better, cover better, they learned how to make their story better.  Believe me when I tell you they have laid the groundwork.  

The groundwork includes what they call lovebombing. It’s devious, it’s methodical and they are good at it.  They take the normal beginning stages of a relationship and magnify it times a thousand.  There is a heaping dose of flattery mixed with making all of the target’s dreams come true.  There will be songs and song lyrics, there will be convincing them that they are their hero or knight in shining armor, there will be presents, treats, flowers, you name it.  Whatever they can do to make the target feel like they are the best thing that ever happened to them and neither of them can live without the other.  They make their target feel as if they have finally found the one person who understands them, loves them completely and would never ever hurt them.  

They also lay groundwork about their past to cover up what they have done.  There will be a host of people who have treated them badly, a line of “crazy” exs and a list of their own good deeds a mile long.  They will make sure they have their side preplanned for anyone or any circumstance that may seem suspicious.  My ex had abusive parents, crazy ex’s and for added benefit, he was a hero who often took on all these women with problems because he was trying to help them and then the poor guy got abused or taken advantage of.  He had a story for every one of his ex’s (well at least the ones he was relatively sure I would find out about) that made him sound like the hero that had been taken advantage of.  

So when the strategy switches from love bombing and the abuse really starts to take hold, it will be so subtle and slow, your friend will not notice.  The narcissist will preface everything with that they are trying to “help” them.  After all, they truly love your friend so they would “never hurt them”.  So all of the putdowns, the criticisms, the trying to control and change behavior is to “help” your friend be a better person.  They will make the target feel like less of a person and all the while convincing them that the narcissist knows better and only loves them and wants to help them.  They will change the story so often your friend will begin to question their own sanity.  There were times when I would bring up something that happened or something said and my ex would completely convince me that I had the facts/memories all wrong.  That I couldn’t even remember what was actually said or what actually happened, maybe it was my anger or my anxiety that caused me to remember things that never happened or things he never said.  I was blown away at how I was “losing my mind”.  It is impossible to explain how they can take a fairly confident, intelligent person and make them entirely dependent on the narcissist for a new reality.  Look up gaslighting and if you’re not horrified, you’re not human.  It’s real, it happens and it is ugly.

Now, listen up.  Because the other thing the narcissist will work to do is to isolate their target.  Their goal will be to get that person completely alone so they will have no one else to turn to but them and so that there will be no one left to question their authority or control.  This is also slowly done, but it starts with every time you, as their friend, question the relationship.  Every time you question the narcissist or the relationship, the narcissist will try to make your friend think that you are trying to destroy their happiness, you’re jealous of their new found “love”, you have never really been a good friend, you name it.  Anything they can do to try to make you out to be the bad guy so your friend will not have you in their lives to support them.

Here’s my advice.  Don’t give the narcissist any ammunition to use against them.  Be there for your friend, keep reminding them that you think they are amazing, beautiful and strong.  Remind them that you are always there for them.  Nod and smile and bite your tongue if you have to, but do not talk badly about the narcissist.  EVEN if your friend vents to you, you can agree with them, but do not add any fuel to the fire.  Because when the narcissist begs their way back into the relationship, it will be without you in it.  

Your friend doesn’t need a lecture. Your friend doesn’t need to be told they are making a giant mistake.  Believe me, in their gut, they know.  They know that what is happening to them isn’t right.  They know that they aren’t being treated the way they should.  They just don’t believe they deserve better yet.  They have been convinced that they want more than they should and that things really are better than they think.  What they do need is someone telling them they are good enough.  Hey, maybe you even tell them about your other “friend” who is in a situation with a narcissist.  You could share some info about narcissism nonchalantly as you discuss this hypothetical friend.  But be careful.  Should they find out they’ve been lied to, you will be voted off the island and that’s a scary island to leave your friend alone on.  

When, if your friend manages to pull themselves out of this abusive relationship, they will need you more than ever.  They will blame themselves for being dumb enough to get sucked into this relationship.  They will blame themselves for the hurt they put their friends and family through.  They will have a shattered self image and zero confidence in their ability to make the right decisions.  Keep reminding them that they’ve got this!  They were sucked into the relationship because they are a good person who believes the best in people.  Remind them that you are there for them and that it will get better.  And always always remind them of the following.  

There is a ton of reliable information on narcissism, narcissistic personality disorder and healing from the trauma of a relationship with one.  I highly recommend the following website as a jumping off point.  The more you know, the better able you will be able to support your friend or family member and the better you will be able to direct them towards help when they are ready.  

https://www.aconsciousrethink.com/relationships/narcissists/

I wish I had better words of advice or I could give you hope that your friend would listen to you and make better choices.  I can’t do that. I can tell you that it will be one of the toughest things you can ever do for your friend, but once on the other side, they will be ever grateful.  Hang in there!  

Baking pie with Grandma

So this past week we were working on the writing process and the 6 traits of effective writing in language class.  We were working on the trait of logical organization.  We planned out our middles with the writing topic of “making something”.  Then the students had to take their planners and put it into sentence and paragraph form.  Before we could do that with our middles, we wrote beginnings and endings for our essays about making something.  It quickly became apparent that we needed more work on beginnings and endings. So I set to work on creating an example of a middle and several examples of different beginnings and endings for the same middle.  As I was working on my example I decided that maybe, just maybe it was worth sharing here as well.  So I’ve taken my favorite beginning, my middle and my favorite ending and included them here.  With a few additions and revisions for an older crowd.  

Cooking and baking are often a source of great joy and contentment for me.  But nothing brings me greater joy and brings back more happy memories than baking a good old fashioned apple pie.  Every time I bake an apple pie, I remember and I’m so thankful for my strong and wonderful Grandma Kiehne, who took many an hour to try to teach me to be a pie baker like she was.  I’ll never forget the time she and I baked over a dozen apple pies to feed the football team on a Friday night before a home game.

Grandma’s kitchen was tiny.  It had the old gold appliances, right down to the oven in the wall and the stovetop on top of the counter space.  Because she didn’t have much counterspace we had to use the table and spread out the cooking process.  We gathered all the ingredients together to start.  I remember her old tupperware containers full of sugar, flour and the containers of cornstarch.  Grandma always used good old fashioned lard in her pie and loads of yummy cinnamon.  And there were apples.  Lots and lots of apples and the trusty paring knife because the first thing we had to do… peel all those apples.  

By the time the apples were peeled and cut into slices, my hand was so sore and I was pretty sure that I couldn’t do one more thing in this pie baking process.  But the pie baking was just beginning.  We still had to mix the dough and get it rolled out just right.  There was a lot of dough and a lot of crusts to roll out.  Grandma was a stickler for detail and a perfectionist. (Funny how that is apparently genetic.  Who knew?).  That dough had to be just right.  She knew exactly how it should feel and knew just what to add if it wasn’t perfect.  Once it was perfect, Grandma could roll out a perfect circle that was just the right thickness all the way around.  Mine looked more like a wavy, flatish lump and she would make me roll it again.  And again.  And again until it was just right.  (Sometimes even just taking over for me and showing me where I was going wrong.)

Finally we could put our pies together, starting with a layer of crust.  That crust had to be put into the tin just so and formed to the tin.   Then the apples and ingredients to make the filling before adding another crust layered over the top.  Grandma always used a fork to press the edges together and make a pretty design around the edge of the pie. After sprinkling a little sugar over the top it was ready for the oven.  

The hardest part was smelling that pie as it baked and waiting for it to finally come out of the oven.  Cinnamon, sugar, butter, all those smells would blend together and cause my stomach to start rumbling with excitement.  It would seem to take forever before the filling would bubble out the cracks and edges and the pie, or pies in this case, would be ready to take out.

To this day when I make pie, I still remember the lessons my grandma taught me.  I remember her telling me to roll the dough thinner, or pinch the crust together better.  I remember her frustration when I added too much flour and the crust was too dry or didn’t cook it long enough and the apples were too crunchy.  Grandma was a tough teacher, but she taught me not to never settle for less than my best.  And I hope, that someday I can pass the same lessons on to my grandkids.  And maybe I’ll even get to tell them that their pie, “wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be” and they will feel that rush of joy I felt.  Because for Grandma, that was a huge compliment and to get the famous “pie lady’s” endorsement was a really big deal.  

I was blessed to have such a true matriarch to help raise me.  Grandma taught me to be tough, to be strong, to stand up for what I believe and to protect those that I love with everything I have.  She was a force to be reckoned with but the kindest woman I know. She had a huge and giving heart and was well known for opening her heart and her home to those in need.  Why send your kid to military school when Grandma Kiehne was tougher than any drill sergeant?  I never thanked Grandma enough for all she did to help me get my start in life.  I hope she’s looking down with pride as I do my best to raise her two great granddaughter’s to be strong Kiehne women. I think, as I curse them for their attitudes and independence some days, that she would love the legacy she has left behind.

I'm not smiling and you can't make me

Well, I got a little long winded the other day about our horse show update.  There was, however, a little something I left out.  I’m sure I had a couple people were wondering about why that first place in horsemanship on Saturday reduced me to tears.  So let me explain a little about me.  

I have pattern anxiety.  I mean, I have anxiety in general, but I really have pattern anxiety.  Have you ever taken a test, gotten to the first page and realized you studied all the wrong information?  That’s me when I get up to the cone.  And sometimes it starts even before I get to the cone.  There have been times that I’ve been walking up to the cone literally panicking because I have zero idea which side of the cone I should be on.  And then all coherent thought goes out of my head and I might as well turn around and walk right back out.

Now, you non horse show people are probably wondering what the heck I’m talking about.  I’ve got this covered.  I have some patterns from this summer saved that I can show you to help explain.  Patterns typically are found in three different classes.  Showmanship.  Western Horsemanship.  English Equitation.  These classes are judged, not just on the horse, but on the communication between the horse and rider and the rider’s ability to pilot their horse through a set of instructions.  

Check out this showmanship pattern:

Showmanship is a class done at halter with your horse.  So looking at the pattern, you can see that you are supposed to walk, trot, turn and walk.  Sounds easy, right?  Except - it isn’t that easy.  As you are walking you have to hold your hands a certain way, keep your head up and look forward and your horse should be walking with you with their head by your shoulder.  Oh and they should have their head in a relaxed position.  

Then you start the trot.  And the horse needs to trot right off with you, bonus points if you can be in step together, you need to flow smoothly around that corner and trot a perfect serpentine before stopping directly in front of the judge.  

Next is “inspection”.  Once stopped you need to square your horse on all four feet.  Sounds easy, but trying to get a horse to stand with all four feet squarely and evenly spaced across from each other is kind of like trying to get a toddler to sit quietly in church. It’s possible only after about a million times asking them nicely and about a million and a half hours practicing.  Inspection also means that the judge will walk around your horse inspecting your grooming job.  Every hair needs to be in place, every extra hair clipped, feet washed and polished, no dust or dirt anywhere. While they go around inspecting you need to switch sides to be in the safety zone of your horse.  It’s complicated.  

Then the 90 pivot, one of the easiest, anything over 180 gets really tricky.  But a pivot isn’t just turning to the left or right.  The horse needs to plant their pivot foot, the back right and not move it as they cross over their front legs, keeping their head level and body in alignment.  

Meanwhile through all of this, there are very specific ways you need to stand, where you need to look, how you need to hold your hands and when you should move.  The pattern doesn’t end until you exit the arena, or if the judge keeps exhibitors in the arena, when the last pattern has been completed.  That’s just showmanship.  That class doesn’t even involve actually getting ON the horse.

Once on the horse you have a whole new batch of things to think about and worry about, during a pattern and even during a “rail” class, or a class without patterns.  You still need to worry about your horse of course; speed, headset, attitude, impulsion, collection, you name it.  But you also need to worry about yourself; chin up, shoulders back, back straight, legs back, heels down, elbows in, hand position, and so much more.  You are constantly giving your horse cues, as subtle as possible, to collect more, slow down, speed up, lift, lower, turn, shift, relax, etc..  All of these cues are given using your legs, your seat, and your hands and you want to keep them as invisible as possible.  Even shifting your weight or turning your head in the saddle should be a cue for your horse.  

There were a couple times this summer when I completely forgot parts of or all of a pattern.  And there were times when even when I remembered the pattern I missed a diagonal or some other component.  (Diagonals are in English patterns.  You either post up and out of the saddle with the right front leg or left front leg depending on what the pattern calls for.) Earlier I talked about cones.  Cones are also important in patterns.  Being on the wrong side of the cone means you’re off pattern and that’s a disqualification.  Nobody wants that.  But for some reason, I can never remember where I am supposed to be in relation to the damn cone.  So I practice it and repeat it to myself and check it with my neighbor about 500 times before the class.  And STILL, as I’m about to start my pattern, I have this moment of “oh my God -I don’t remember the pattern”.  The hope is always that once I start it will come back to me.  But sometimes, well, sometimes it is just kind of a lost cause out there of the horse and I wandering around like a drunk at bar close.  Patterns scare the bejeezus out of me, not that I don’t understand their importance.  I get that they are the best way for judges to truly gauge who has a great working relationship with their horse and who is the best rider in the class.  But they give me anxiety.  Heart pounding, dry mouth, can’t breathe anxiety.  I try to practice taking deep breaths before the class, that sometimes helps. Helps as in, I don’t feel like I am going to throw up, pass out or pee myself for a few seconds.  Realistically I know that the key to getting over my anxiety is just more patterns.  Lots and lots more patterns. But the dreamer in me wishes they would all just go away.  Forever.  

I have ZERO confidence in myself. Did I say zero? Is it possible to have negative points in confidence? Because if it is, then that's me. For me to win a pattern class was huge. Monumental. For me to win it on a 2 year old that I had trained myself was a like a giant shot of confidence straight to the heart. I know that I couldn't have gotten there with just any horse. China is special. She is unique and the easiest horse I have ever started or taken in the show ring. I am super excited for her future. Here's hoping this past weekend was just the beginning of a future of successes for the little bay appaloosa with a big heart.

So… with all that background information and with all that anxiety, I have one final word.  I’m not smiling and you can’t make me.  Everyone always looks at the picture of someone showing their horse or sees them as they ride by on the rail and says “smile” or “judges love smiles”. I’m sure they do.  I would love to smile too.  But picture something that you really have to put all your concentration and focus on and then picture trying to plaster a smile on your face while you do it.  Picture yourself astride an animal that could kill you if they so chose and then you’re supposed to plaster a smile on your face.  I guarantee you that 99% of the time I’m not angry.  I’m not usually even frustrated.  But apparently my concentration face looks a lot like people’s mad at the world face.  To use my least favorite word, whatever. It is what it is. I'll smile when the class is over, I'm still astride and I don't have to concentrate on staying on the right side of the saddle.

So cheers!