Observations this week

First, I want to share with you that I have a fresh zit smack dab in the middle of my upper lip. You know, the area between your nose and lip...the little dip right there has a magnificent pimple. I felt like every person I spoke to today was looking at it. It's like my zit was out talking to people all day instead of me. I don't typically get acne. Not even when I was a teenager, go ahead, send me hate mail.

Sunday morning I went out to the barn to visit my mare. Of course she and the other mares were in the farthest possible corner of the five acre field. I looped the lead rope over my neck with my scarf, dug around in my pockets for gloves and began the trek. I was actually grateful for the bit of exercise. It was cold but sunny and sunny trumps cold anytime in my book. If it had been cloudy and cold, I would've been curled up on my couch. Instead, Mother Nature was on my side. I reached the small herd of mares and called Dixie's name. She looked up and waited for me to get to her. I scruffed her heavy winter coat and spoke softly as I clipped the lead rope to her halter. Some of the other mares were getting nosy so I started leading her back toward the barn. We stopped halfway and she stood still while I gave her a good look-over. Her surgery site under her tail has healed completely and there were no signs of new growths, whew. Keep you fingers crossed. Slyly, I put my hand in my pocket and rustled the plastic wrappers of the peppermints that I brought for her. Ears pricked forward she began pushing her nose around my waist trying to find the goods. I had to take my gloves off to unwrap the candy. Her warm breath cut the cold as she lipped the treat into her mouth. She loves it when I stroke her just above her eyes, she gets all soft and doe-eyed when I do it. She's my beautiful mare and I feel like a kid everytime I throw my arms around her neck and bury my face in her coat. Satisfied that she was in good condition I unclipped the lead rope and told her to go on. She turned and cantered back to the mares. I started walking back to the barn and turned to look at her only to find that she was standing with her head up looking at me too.

Gordon is the old man that owns the barn and cares for the horses. He is a self described "Kiwi" because his native land is New Zealand. As I was coming back to the barn he was coming out of the house. We stood and talked awhile in the barn aisle. As a young man he was an exercise rider for racehorses in New Zealand, he tells stories of training them on the beaches there. Then he moved to the US and he and his daughter raised Arabians and competed in fox hunts. His daughter is in her forties now and is "out of horses" because of a riding accident she had. So Gordon runs the barn on his own. His wife mostly stays in the house while he putters away keeping the barn tidy. Twelve horses make their home there and he sees to it that they are in good condition and properly cared for. I would sleep in my mares stall, that's how clean it is. I don't know that I've ever actually seen poop in it. He cleans the water buckets every other day and the barn aisle is meticulously swept. They don't make 'em like Gordon anymore.

What do you really want to be?

It's Friday afternoon, thank goodness the weekend is here. I've been thinking lately about what I would do if I didn't have to work in corporate sales anymore. I have several ideas, not sure if any of them are realistic and so, friends, I ask you for your thoughts.
First, I could write. Probably try writing some fiction. I've already started writing my memoirs of my life thusfar. I can tell you that this blog really hasn't given you any insight into my past or the depth, perversion and weirdness of it all. My story might make for some interesting reading. A couple of you can vouch for that I know.
Or, I could develop my photography hobby into something. Maybe stock photos, maybe pet photography.
I'd really like to convert my passion for horses into a vocation but aside from lots of overhead costs of owning a boarding facility, I'm not sure what else might be an option. Please don't suggest selling insurance to horse people, no interest here.
Or maybe there's something out there I just haven't thought of yet.
How about y'all? Have you ever thought about what you'd really like to do for a living? If you feel like sharing your dream or passions, let loose! I'd love to hear what else other folks are thinking. I think we're in a very importent time right now in history and people are rethinking their priorities. What are your thoughts?

Sunday Morning

It's gray (or is it grey?) this morning in Indiana. And cold. Dang cold. Last week we had a little Indian Summer going on with a balmy 72 degrees. Now, it's about 40 degrees outside. It was the same way yesterday. Boo and I ran errands together yesterday. I like it when we run errands together on weekends because it's cozy and couple-y. I don't like it when we barely see/talk to each other because our work schedules keep us so busy that even when we're home we're both on our laptops. It starts feeling roommate-ish and less marriage-ish. I don't like that at all. I start getting all bitchy and mean and not feeling appreciated. Running errands together was nice.
Boo took off this morning to his parents house in southern Indiana. They need help picking out a new computer and setting it up and since Boo is a computer dude, he's the guy for the job. He's also the guy who is going to move some furniture around for his mom while he's there. That means I'm solo today. All day long on a cold cloudy Sunday. I need to go buy some new underwear and deoderant but I don't really want to leave the house. I should also go see my horse but she's at a barn 30 minutes away and I'm a cold weather weenie. She'd rather be in the field with the other mares anyway, right? I'd probably just cramp her style.
My faithful dogs are with me right now. Mya is curled up on the couch right next to me and Farley is stretched out on the rug snoozing. They are sleeping soundly but mark my words, if I sneaked off the couch and tried to go down the hall to the bathroom, they'd be on alert and escorting me all the way there. Then, since Boo isn't home, I'd leave the door to the bathroom open and they'd sit there and stare at me. There's nothing like having an audience. Mya might even come in and put her paws up on my knees wanting a pet on the head. After the flush, we'd all shuffle back into the living room and resume our places. Thank goodness for my dogs, I don't know how I walk around the house without them.
Maybe I'll take a little snooze too...then decide what to do with the day.

Toes in the sand

Hey "team!" This morning we are going to "push beyond limits" and "raise the bar!" No no no...we're not going to do any of that this morning I think that was just the leftover corporate motivational jargon in my head.
W.O.W, Tuesday night after dinner at a beachside restaurant in Huntington beach I did indeed dip my toes in the Pacific for you! It was a lovely evening of great food, great wine (I had one glass, some folks had much more!) and then some of us headed out to the beach even though it was ten pm. I rolled up my pant legs, flip flops in hand, ran down the beach to the surf...and it wasn't as cold as I thought it would be. Cold, but not intolerable. The sky was deep and clear and a few stars winked out of the darkness. On the horizon I could see lights coming from the yahts that were anchored way out in the deeper water. I wrote my name in the sand with my big toe and watched the tide roll in and sweep it away. The sand was chilly but soft and white as I burrowed my toes in. I am always humbled by the power of the ocean and the surge of its waves. I just stayed still for a few moments and took in the moment. I felt very blessed.