Heart Horses

Heart horse.  Horse people talk about finding your “heart horse”.  It’s a hard concept to explain, especially to non horse people.  Maybe other animal lovers can relate?  Especially animal lovers of working animals?  The other part that makes it difficult to explain is that it is such a personal concept - individualized to each person and how they view horses in general and their own horses.  

There are so many different ways that horses can touch your life.  They can be your companion on a fun trail ride.  They can be warriors that go to battle with you in the show ring.  They can be a thrill ride of pure exhilaration.  They can challenge you to work harder than you ever imagined.  Or be the most relaxing part of your day.  But not every horse can be your heart horse.

I think some people go their whole lives enjoying horses, owning horses and riding horses and never feel that “heart horse” connection.  It isn’t easy to find.  Horses have their own very distinct personalities and for sure humans do too.  Finding two personalities that match up and are compatible is the first step and that doesn’t even ensure that type of connection.  Sometimes as much as our personalities match, our horse isn’t fit for the purpose that we enjoy and that leaves us disappointed.  But when you have that connection and you do love to do the same things together, lots of factors start to click and you realize that you have that one horse.  That horse that makes you light up when you talk about her.  That becomes your favorite picture, your favorite memory, the reason you can’t wait to get to the barn.  

I’ve done a lot of serious thinking looking back at the horses that we have owned over the years.  I’ve had a lot of horses that I really really loved, miss and would love to see or own again if I had all the pasture, barn space (and money) at my disposal.  Giggles, Rye, Taz, Levi, Maverick, Quincy, Gretchen, Ellie, Romeo, Taron, Oscar, Susie, Licorice, Rev, Zippy and Cutie.  Just to name a few.  But that heart horse connection is hard to come by.  I can really only think of one horse that I’ve had that connection with.  

Chic (My Honey's Dreamgirl) was a black(ish) shiny two year old that I picked out of a small herd of horses at my friends.  She started her for me and Chic and I had many shows, many classes, many trail rides and many memories together.  She was the mare that gave me Sophie’s “whoa, mean it” story.  She gave me my only Champ Show experiences.  She gave me my first experience riding a flying lead change and never disappointed me.  She wasn’t perfect.  She had a head only a mother could love.  She never even reached 15 hands.  She could have the laziest lope and she was the easiest keeper, aka obese almost all the time.  I loved that little mare to the moon and back, but when family circumstances demanded, I had to sell her.  It was one of the hardest days of my life, but I am so happy for her and her new owner.  The young lady that has her was just a little bugger at the time she bought her and it has been very rewarding experience getting to watch her grow up on Chic.  They are a great team and I am so proud of all that they have done.  I’m not sorry I sold her, it was the right decision at the time.  But she was my last “heart” horse.  

There have been times when I have thought a horse might be my new heart horse.  Like I said, we have been blessed to have a string of really nice horses over the years.  But none that seemed to get me as much as I “got” them.  I think, and I’m just beginning to see this happening, I think I have a new heart horse.  And I also realized that, as much as I love geldings, my heart horses - the horses I have that special connection with - will always be mares.

Recently I had a friend inquire about purchasing China.  I was all set to sell her.  I was looking at possible replacements even.  I thought that shopping for a new horse would maybe make it easier.  And I had the perfect one all picked out.  An adorable, well bred paint filly with a sweet sweet disposition.  But I couldn’t do it.  Every time I thought about selling her I got all choked up.  Every time I rode her she gave me 110%, even when I threw completely new things at her like bareback, ponying colts, bosal, etc… she never flinches and gives it her all.  I have done all the work with China from the ground up.  And she was one I didn’t even want.

I’m not sure how many people remember her story from a few blogs ago.  Libby found this chunky weanling for sale on a barely used horse for sale page.  It was kind of a fluke that she even found her and we fell in love with her simply because she was kind of sort of bred like our favorite mare at the time, Ellie.  I asked for a video and got a video of this spirited looking filly dashing around her frozen, muddy pen.  But it didn’t deter us.  We had to have her.  So we put a deposit down on her.  And then the world went to crap.  I realized I was going to have to ask Ryan to leave.  I was going to have less money coming in, more bills to cover on my own and no pick up truck to even haul our new filly home.  I sent an email asking the owner to consider refunding our deposit and with great embarrassment asked to get out of the deal.  Today I am so thankful he never got that email for whatever reason.  Through the help of Libby for the rest of the purchase price and my dad for loan of a vehicle, we were able to bring China home.  I had no idea what we do with her when I needed to be downsizing, but she was ours.  I considered China to be a giant mistake and I think she’s tried to prove me wrong ever since.

She learned lunging and leading in one practice session.  She went to one show where she tried her best to figure out what the heck we were doing and then was turned out for a couple months.  When I worked with her again, it was like I never left off and she progressed to saddling and ground driving in no time.  This fall she was started under saddle and truly was the type that never thinks of bucking.  Virtually no spook.  No nonsense.  Just “what do you want me to do, let’s do it”.  She is so smart that she learns something new every single time I work with her and makes progress every single time I spend a minute with her.  I always joke that we can use this power for good or evil so we had better be sure we are teaching the right things every time.  

Needless to say, China is off the market.  I’m too excited about the upcoming show season.  Too thrilled with her progress.  Too hooked on this filly to pass her on down the line just yet.  I’m breaking all my horse owning rules and going to trust it doesn’t come back to bite me in the butt.  I am not barn blind.  I realize she isn’t going to take the western pleasure classes by storm.  I realize she has her faults and downfalls and isn’t a world class show champion.  I don’t care if we never win a class, never place in a class, never hear our name announced.  I still love riding her and can’t wait to see what she thinks of the show ring.  In case you haven’t been able to tell, I’m pretty sure this lanky filly just might be my new heart horse.  Especially when we end every ride like this.  

Not funny

What makes something funny?  What makes a joke a joke?  This is one of those things that I struggle to teach students.  Often when someone’s feelings get hurt, the student who caused the hurt will tell me, “I was just kidding.”  And we’ve all teased those that we love and our friends.  But when does it become not funny?  When is it not a joke?  How do you teach young people where to draw that line?  I know many adults who can’t find that line.  Even if it is drawn in black and white.  

Maybe we need to advocate for ourselves?  We need to let people know what is and isn’t funny to us?  That is also something that is really hard to do.  No one wants to be a “wimp” or look like they can’t “take a joke”.  But sometimes, somethings, just aren’t funny.

There are a lot of things I don’t find funny.  Racist jokes.  Not funny.  Jokes about where women belong.  Not funny.  Jokes about dumb blondes.  Not funny.  Jokes about political candidates who have worked their whole lives for the American people.  Not funny.  And my latest group of “not funny” jokes revolve around getting/or being married.  Why would something like this be funny?  

Really?  You need to be saved from getting married?  I’m pretty sure that no one is forcing anyone into marriage in this day and age.  It’s not an arranged marriage is it?  Then don’t walk down the aisle.  Because as a bride to be - I find this highly offensive.  I would not want any man to feel like they are being forced to marry me.  I would not anyone sitting in the crowd to think that my fiance thinks anything less than that they are the luckiest man in the room to be my husband, not someone who needs to be rescued.  

Now those of you that know Tim well, know that he is a bit of an instigator. Yes honey, you are and you know it.   He likes to pull pranks and I’ve been told stories of his antics at his siblings’ weddings.  I’ve warned Tim that if anyone in his group of friends or family thinks this would be funny (or similar such jokes) I can promise to help him.  Be single.  A wedding is not to be made a joke of.  It doesn’t have to be all seriousness either.  But there is a line.  A pretty dark, thick, clear to see line that shouldn’t be crossed.

Here’s another one that used to be one of my ex-husband’s favorite jokes.  Probably should have been a sign, long before my common sense kicked in.

Again. Not funny.  If that is how you feel about marriage in general, or worse - your marriage, get the hell out or get help.  Everyone deserves to be married to their best friend.  Everyone deserves to be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t feel like they are “suffering” but feels like they are blessed, loved and appreciated.  As the saying goes - there are more fish in the sea.  And even if the sea has run dry and you’re alone - being alone is better than “suffering”.  Wow.  Not funny.

Here’s a real laugh.  Maybe I am interpreting this one wrong.  I’ve tried looking at it from different perspectives.  Maybe I just don’t get it?  Maybe I “can’t take a joke”?  But this one rubs me the wrong way as well.  If you’re looking at marriage as being a prison sentence, I’ve got to think you’ve got the wrong attitude.  I cannot wait to be Mrs. Andring.  I can’t wait to be lucky enough to get to spend the rest of my life with my best friend.  It’s not a prison sentence, it’s a gift.  One that I am very thankful for. Not funny.

Lastly is one that we actually have hanging up in our restaurant.  People love this one.  I see people taking a pic of it to share with their friends all the time and laughing, laughing, laughing. Believe me, in some ways I get it.  And I understand that some marriages are like this.  But it makes me sad, it doesn’t make me laugh.  It makes me feel for the people who have lost the love in their relationship.  How does it start out all happy, excitement and hope for a long and happy future and then progress to this?  Who finds it funny that people really feel that their marriage has progressed to this point, that they want out - no, NEED out. I’ve been there.  It isn’t a great feeling.  And definitely not funny.  (And not gonna lie - the grammar error makes me shudder.  *are, all you need are two hearts and a diamond.)

I guess I can’t take a joke.  Or maybe I’m just “sensitive”.  But my life experiences have led me to have a little bit different take on what I find funny and what is making fun of the hurt others find very real.  I guess I’m just not okay with that anymore.  

Nothing Good

My best friend and I were talking about this the other day.  Now we share a brain and are more like sisters than most blood relations, but I don’t think we are the only ones.  Do you ever have those “poor me” days?  The days when you just get overwhelmed and it takes the least littlest thing and it either puts you into the “yell at everyone and sort it out later” or “I’m just going to cry about the fact that my children once again left crap out for me to put away” mood.  Do I think this means women are emotional and reactive.  Possibly we are.  Do I think that’s a bad thing?  Absolutely not.  

I think that women hold up their households for so long that eventually we just get tired.  I think we pretend that things are okay and that we don’t mind being the one who has to pick up all the things and put them where they go.  We pretend that it’s okay that we are the only ones that notice the half used toothpaste coating the bathroom sink.  We pretend that it’s not a big deal that our kids never buy any food, never make a meal, never clean up a meal, but feel entitled to have an opinion about the meal put in front of them or complain the noodles are soggy.  We pretend that it doesn’t hurt.  We pretend that it doesn’t make us feel unappreciated and disrespected.  We remind ourselves that we love them no matter what and we strap on our shields and keep on plugging away.

Until the day when we didn’t sleep so well the night before.  Or we had a nightmare.  Or a cold.  Or we got bad news.  And we are emotional, but that’s because we care.  We care about how our kids feel, our significant others feel, our neighbors feel.  Your worries become our worries.  Your heartaches hurt our hearts.  So when we have just had enough, when holding in our emotions and your emotions and his emotions and her emotions just becomes too much, sometimes we have a bad day.  A poor me day.  When it just all seems like a lot too much.  

I had one of those days this week.  It just all got to be a lot.  It started over a plate.  A plate of brownies that someone had finished the brownies on and left out for me to clean up and put away.  It just overwhelmed me.  One more thing.  And suddenly all I could think about was anything and everything that’s been stressing me out the past few weeks.  “I miss my mom, when will my kids start picking up after themselves, I’m failing as a parent, I’m the evil stepmother, when will we get paid for this or that, my fiance works so much and I miss him, it’s tax time already…” You know, every real and some manufactured problems washing over me like a tidal wave.  

Bless those of you who get caught in the riptide.  I tried to get ready and get out the door before Tim got home and the children were up because I didn’t want to worry him.  Instead he got to see me in all my emotional and self loathing glory.  I couldn’t get out of the house fast enough because, no matter how much someone else tries, you can’t fix it.  It’s mine to fix.  I just need the space, the emotional distance, to fix it myself.  

How do you fix it?  I think for everyone, that is highly personal.  I have my methods.  Of course one is to commiserate with my best friend.  That always helps.  There is a little bit of kicking myself and self talk about how I am a warrior and warriors don’t get upset and feel sorry for themselves.  There is a little bit of looking up jokes and funny memes.  But the biggest part of it all is reframing my negatives into positives.  Looking at what’s wrong and finding the blessing in it.  

*If I am failing at a parent in some way, I can use this as an opportunity to change my behavior, learn new ways to teach and deal with the problem and implement them.  I can grow as a person and as a parent.

*If I’m frustrated about the kids complaining about dinner, maybe it is time to start having the kids plan the meal, shop for the meal, make the meal and clean up after said meal.  This is probably overdue!  And how fun could it be for all of us.  

*If I miss my mom, how lucky am I to have had a mom that was such an amazing person and loved me so much that it is so hard to miss her and not have her to turn to. And I’m lucky enough to have an amazing stepmom who always listens.

*If I miss my fiance and he works a lot, how lucky am I that he is hard working and provides for his family instead of lazing about on the couch all day while I work two jobs. And how lucky am I to have a man that I’m so crazy about and is so good to me that I do miss him.  

*If my kids are driving me crazy, I’m lucky to have 4 amazing kids who are smart, healthy and kind to drive me crazy.

You get the idea.  It’s a count your blessings kind of day.  My old therapist Frank listened to me whine one day.  I was discussing how I had a hard time getting excited about things off in the future. I didn’t feel like good things ever happened to me.  His response was to dig in his desk drawer and toss me a quarter.  I caught it and he told me to keep it.  I looked kind of befuddled, I’m sure, so he explained, “See, good things happen to you.  You just got a quarter.  It’s little.  But it’s something.”  Let that sink for a minute.  I know the enormity of what he was proving to me took longer than it should have to sink in.   

So with that, hugs to all my warrior women who fight the good fight day after day.  And even on the days that you don’t, the days you let down your shields and have a good cry, never forget you are stronger than you think and good things do happen to you.  

Sugar addict confessions

I'm a confirmed sugaraholic.  For me to choose my favorite way to consume sugar would be impossible.  Cake, yum.  Cookies, delicious.  Bars - bring 'em on.  Candy - so many amazing kinds of candy!  And don't get me started on ice cream.  You know what makes ice cream better?  Add cake.  Add cookies.  Add candy.  That's the only way to make ice cream better.  Not consuming large quantities of sugar every single day is one of my greatest challenges.  Walking past the candy aisle or not opening that bag of M & M's is a herculean feat.  And the holidays are the worst.  Not only are there amazing flavors of candy but... and this is the worst.. they are for a LIMITED time!  You must get as much as you can while you can, because they will be gone and then what?  You wait a whole year for your next fix.  Never good.  So let's start with some of my favorite holiday candies.

Let's start the year off with the next holiday up and coming - Valentine's.  What's on the shelf today that I have a hard time resisting you ask..

These bad boys right here.  Love them.  Love that they have distinctly different flavors so that you can mix them or eat several at a time.  And don't you dare tell me they taste like chalk.  I've umm... accidentally tasted chalk back when we had blackboards, not white boards, and they do not taste anything like chalk.  They are delicious.  Bonus - cutesy little messages for those too chicken just to come right out and tell someone they are cool.

That pretty much wraps up my Valentine craving, except for those giant boxes of mixed chocolates.  But are they really a Valentine treat?  They do have a very similar (although not heart shaped box) version at Christmas time.  How many of you use the enclosed map to make sure you get a chocolate you like?  How many throw it to the gods of fate?  I'm not ashamed to say that my goal is always to get the caramels first.  After that, they are all equal in the eyes of my stomach.  Wait - is that a thing?

Moving on...  Easter is already appearing on the shelves.  And that means my all time favorite treat in two, count them TWO different versions.  The Cadbury egg.  It doesn't get any better than a Cadbury egg.  I know I've blogged on this before.  The only thing better than the gooey goodness of a big old Cadbury egg, are the little mini eggs.  There is nothing else offered even remotely like them.  And guess what Sophie and I found at Christmas time.  Mini eggs!  I hope that wasn't a one time thing and we see them twice a year from here on out.   Cadbury is apparently realizing that some of us can't wait a whole year because they also offer the regular egg at a second time each year.  Welcome, the "Screme" egg.  Thank you Cadbury!

But Easter isn't just about the Cadbury egg.  Easter also brings us the fruity goodness of jelly beans.  Although Jelly Belly beans are my favorite and they are available year round, it is only at Easter that you can get the original ones - complete with the yummy black ones.  Or the Skittles version, those are nothing to turn your nose up at either. 

Easter also gives us Peeps.  Now Peeps have ventured out into all the other holidays so they aren't an Easter specific candy any more.  But they will always be an Easter candy to me.  I don't love or hate them.  They are just part of the holiday.  It doesn't feel like spring until I've had a Peep (or a line).  But Peeps went too far with the Christmas flavors.  Gingerbread Peeps?  Really?  Disgusting.

Last, but not least, let's not forget the Reese's egg.  Soooo much peanut buttery goodness.  Yes, they are unbelievably thick and rich.  A person should, could, would maybe only need one.  But if they are there, in front of you - who can pass one of these up?  And did I hear they make them in "trees" now?  Smart move, Reese's.  

This brings us to the fourth of July.  I know what you're thinking, "Independence Day doesn't have holiday specific candy."  Wrong!  This may have been true in the past, but this year Skittles through a wrench in that plan.  How many of you tried the American Mix?  If you didn't, you missed out.  I wish these were offered all year long.  I believe I had to steal a bag of Sophie's once to satisfy a craving.  But I'm sure I replaced them. Pretty sure. 

Halloween brings all the candy.  Fun size, snack size, jumbo size, you name it.  Nothing too unique about Halloween candy except for candy corn.  I did discover that they make it in Christmas and Easter colors now.  However, candy corn, and their close cousin the candy pumpkin,  will forever be a fall treat in my book.  I know it's the oldest snack in the book - but a bag of a candy corn and a bag of peanuts.  Pure delight. 

Finally we arrive at my favorite holiday.  Christmas.  Christmas is known for its many, many different holiday treats.  So I'm going to pick out a few that we don't get to see in other versions year round.  The first being the chocolate orange.  The only one in my house that gets me when it comes to the chocolate orange, is Libby.  Which is an okay thing because then I don't have to share.  This is another treat that I really should stock up on because it is a sad day when I can't find them on the shelves any more.   Probably good for my waistline though.

These scrumptious little Christmas mints.  The only problem with these buggers is that I, apparently, cannot figure out how to not eat so many that they give me a gut ache.  They are so amazing that I eat too many and always regret that decision. 

 I don't think I had a one of these this year.  Which is so sad and so wrong.  These crazy little peppermint Christmas tree nougats are chewy and delicious.  And only offered at Christmas.  So gone!

Well, this is a little silly because anything Ghiradelli is amazing.  But I adore the peppermint chocolate squares.  Hershey's has a version of peppermint chocolate that is quite good.  But nothing even holds a candle to these little squares of goodness.  Holiday happiness! 

Well - I've shared my favorite holiday treats.  I bet I didn't even scratch the surface of some of the ones I wouldn't turn away.  As I was typing this I remembered those malted milk balls shaped like eggs.  Or the little Dove chocolate wrapped eggs.  Or.... well... I'm just going to quit while I'm *cough* ahead.  Ish.   

Binder loving...

Sometimes I think I’m a little crazy, but the good news is that my best friend shares my sickness.  At least I’m not alone.  I honestly don’t know how disorganized people do it.  Maybe I’m even a little envious.  I am the most forgetful person I know and that’s with everything stored in its place, reminders set on my phone and my calendar in two different places.  How do disorganized people find anything and get anywhere?  

These are just a couple of the shelves in my classroom.  As you can see, I have a binder for everything.  Literally - if there is a new concept or initiative, it gets a shiny new binder (well - not really new, I recycle a lot of binders). And I have binders for home too.  Recipes = binder.  Horse paperwork = binder.  Piano music?  Binder for that.  Binders make me happy.  

The one thing that makes me most happy, besides cute little totes, baskets and post its, is a binder.  There is something deeply satisfying about a well organized binder.  Bonus points if it is color coded.  So imagine my joy when I found this adorable little binder at Target, in the dollar section even!  In the same bin were additional matching pages, pockets, stickers and post its/tags.  Squee! I cannot describe how excited I was to get it home, get it all put together and start writing in it.  I have a new, color coded, wedding binder.  I love it!  

Is it bad that I don’t want to let anyone else write in it or add anything to it?  They might wreck its perfectness.  Time to start planning a wedding.  And I have a feeling that with my shiny new binder it is going to be so much fun!  

Valentine's Day *shudder*

Valentine’s Day.  The holiday of red hearts, chocolates and roses.  I know I’ve blogged about my feelings on Valentine’s Day before.  Feel free to click on past this one because I don’t have anything new to say.  Just more thoughts on the same.  Every year seeing the red and pink aisle at Walmart gives me a little shudder down my backbone.

First things first.  I’m going to preface my point by saying I don’t recall ever having a good Valentine’s Day.  There might have been one in there, but the negative memories have overshadowed any positive in my past.  I’ve been dumped, cheated on, alone, not spoken to and forgotten.  That’s just the ones I vividly remember.  Then there were the times when nothing specifically even happened to me, but my daughters were treated like crap and I had to comfort them while they cried.  All for a made up holiday.  So yeah - this whole feeling about Valentine’s Day has it’s roots.

Here’s how I feel about a holiday that is good in it’s basic premise.  According to www.history.com “Each year on February 14th, many people exchange cards, candy, gifts or flowers with their special “valentine.” The day of romance we call Valentine’s Day is named for a Christian martyr and dates back to the 5th century, but has origins in the Roman holiday Lupercalia.”  Well that doesn’t sound so bad...

Not being a professor of Roman history and having no idea what Lupercalia was, I googled that as well.   According to the website for Minnesota Public Radio, “From Feb. 13 to 15, the Romans celebrated the feast of Lupercalia. The men sacrificed a goat and a dog, then whipped women with the hides of the animals they had just slain. The Roman romantics "were drunk. They were naked," says Noel Lenski, a historian at the University of Colorado at Boulder. Young women would actually line up for the men to hit them, Lenski says. They believed this would make them fertile. The brutal fete included a matchmaking lottery, in which young men drew the names of women from a jar. The couple would then be, um, coupled up for the duration of the festival — or longer, if the match was right.

The ancient Romans may also be responsible for the name of our modern day of love. Emperor Claudius II executed two men — both named Valentine — on Feb. 14 of different years in the 3rd century A.D. Their martyrdom was honored by the Catholic Church with the celebration of St. Valentine's Day.”

Well, now isn’t that ….ummm… interesting.  It’s hard to find value in a holiday that, well, has its roots in such a dark and bloody history.  Shakespeare and others apparently helped it evolve into the gushy, romantic, chocolate covered holiday it is today.  But I still have problems with it.  

I’ve talked about my issues with Valentine’s indirectly before.  It goes back to how we treat our loved ones every single day.  If 364 days of the year we are complaining about our significant others, writing jokes about them, saying “our lives are over”, nagging them, giving them the cold shoulder, arguing, cheating, fighting etc.. , then why the heck does a dozen roses or a box of chocolates on Valentine’s Day make it all better?  Why do we only post on Valentine’s Day about how wonderful our SOs are?  “Oh look what I had delivered to my desk, isn’t he amazing?”  Yes, yes he is.  He was also amazing when he made sure your car had gas in it the other day.  Or when he got you that glass of water “since he was up”.  Or when he fed the dog, helped clean up supper, folded the laundry, let you sleep in, asked how your day was, and the million other ways we all tell our loved ones that we love them every single day.  Did you post about how wonderful he was then?  Did you proclaim for all the world to see how thankful you are for him then?  Did you even tell him thank you or that you appreciated his efforts?  That’s Valentine’s Day.  Every single day should be Valentine’s Day.  

I shared a blog a while back that was inspired by the wife of Chris Kyle, the hero of the movie American Sniper.  She reminded us not to write letters for our loved ones to read after we die.  Or even to save the good stuff for the eulogy.  If you have something you want to tell your loved one, tell them today.   Tell them every day.  Tell them multiple times a day.  Don’t wait to remember the good times, relive the happy memories and tell our loved ones how much they mean to us for when they are.  Because after they are gone, after we are gone, it’s too late.  

In conclusion, here’s how I feel about Valentine’s Day.  It shouldn’t be once a year, it should be every single day.  I don’t need a box of chocolates, a dozen roses or jewelry to know my significant other loves me.  He shows me in a million ways every single day.  I try, every day, to do the same for him.  I never want to wait for that one day a year when I feel obligated to make a big show of my love and appreciation.  I want him to feel loved and appreciated every single day.   Some of you are probably thinking, lucky Tim!  He gets out of the big pressure cooker to surprise your significant other with something romantic and heartfelt on Valentine’s Day.  Trust me, he’s busy every single day.