Age

I have pneumonia -- I am getting over it, but my ribs still ache and sometimes my breath just goes away.  Like, completely away.  Then I make this knarly sucking-in sound that could be construed as a cough or laugh but either way doesn't really look nor sound quite right.  When I make that sound and hold my ribs, the kids at school look at me and then back slowly away.  My family has grown immune to that sound, so they just ignore me.

Catching my breath has made me think about aging.  I think only really young people and really old people get pneumonia.

I am not young.

I know.

I know because I filled out an online survey today and I had click on the scroll down box to find the year of my birth.  I had to scroll down.  Waaaayyy down.

That proves it.

I am old.

and wheezy.

I will call him Dougie

this is not my photo -- just a random clip from Google images...

Boy went to buy another lawnmower from a local auction house.  Turns out that it there was a pony auction before the lawnmowers went up on the block.  Boy was very taken with the ponies.  Some were only going for "tens of dollars."

Boy came home with a push lawnmower with deluxe wheels, but no pony.  (Thank heavens!) But he is convinced it would be a great pet.

This is how he tried to convince me:

Boy:  Mom, you wouldn't have believed how cute these ponies were.
Me:  uh huh
Boy:  ...and small, they were really small.
Me:  uh huh
Boy:  small like a dog.  We should get one.
Me:  silent. I give him the look that clearly says "over my dead body."  He does not get the message -- I'll have to work on my "look."
Boy:  It would be so great.  It could pull a cart.  It could pull the cart with my lawnmower in it, so we wouldn't waste so much gas.
Me:  Where would we keep a pony?
Boy:  With Smoke.  Or we could build a wee tiny pen in the shed.  Or Girl's little house.  It could even come in our house sometimes 'cause it'd be small enough. And if you had to take it to the vet, the vet wouldn't have to make a house call, we could just load it in the back of the jeep and take it to town. That would save a lot of money, wouldn't it?  That's a good idea.
Me:  again with the look.
Boy:  If I got a miniature pony I'd call it Douglas.  Dougie for short.  I would love him and squeeze him and call him my friend.
Me:  Really, Dougie is a good horse name is it?
Boy:  Also, Dougie could be chick magnet. Girls love horses.
Me:  ...and just how is that going to go.  Are you going to say, "hey pretty girl, want to see my leetle horsey?"
Boy:  Boy leaves the room --he's got nothing.

Mom -- score 1.

a nap

Today I had a nap.
A long nap.
The kind of nap that leaves you with drool on your face and the sensation in the back of your throat that means you've been snoring.

I got to have a nap because I didn't have school today (yeah!) and because DH and the kids went to pick up some brake parts for my Jeep.

When I awoke from my 10 min. rest (2 1/2 hours later) I found that they came home with a bit more than brake parts....

Here's the list:
-brake parts
-2 pairs of leather gloves
-1 boot jack
-1 saddle cover
-3 signs that say "Cadillac"
-1 pink coat
-1 pair of pink fuzzy slipper (guess who the coat and slippers are for?)
-a baby bottle for dolls (again, guess who?)
and
-1 John Deere lawn mower -- a REAL lawnmower, not a toy

How, how does this happen?

It happened because I took a nap instead of riding along.
It is ALL my fault...

Good night.

This is me, and Smoke.  His is the big butt with the tail; I'm the big butt sans tail...

This is Smoke and I before we went for ride.

This is me with Smoke.  I love him.

Very much.

Amen.

As essay about Girl

...well, an essay about Girl and Me.

I'm using the term essay 'cause I sense this might be a long post.  I'm warning you now so that if you have better things to do than ponder my life (mine and Girl's) then you may want to skiddaddle and do that something else that awaits.

When Girl was born I had secret wish that she would grow up to love horses and riding.  I didn't tell anyone, but my heart sang out loud when she first asked if she could take riding lessons.

I have loved horses my whole life.  From about the age of 20 until Girl took an interest a few years ago, I just kept my passion tucked away.   I love going with Girl to the stable.

Sometimes my job is not very nice.  I love what I do but there are just some days that are difficult.  For example, the other day I had to assist CAS as they apprehended a child into foster care for abuse and neglect in the home.   I did what I had to do, but there is just no good in that.

Sometimes shovelling the sh*& at the barn is preferable to shovelling the other kind I occasionally have to deal with.

I also think that it is an honour to serve the great horse(s) in front of me.  To provide a creature with comfort and companionship (and truthfully, receive the same in return) can only be called an honour.

I think Girl would say the same here -- the barn makes even the worst day better.  It doesn't take long after I've picked up a curry comb to find that the worries of the day are gone.  I wonder if the gals who work in the stable realize that they have the best job in the world?

And so, this need of mine to be part of the equine world led to finding a beautiful quarter horse for Girl.  For now, we are leasing him to see if he will be a good "fit" for Girl, but I don't think it will be long before we discover that the fit is perfect.  I  might love him already.  His barn name is Smoke.  The photo above is Girl taking him to the ring for her first ride.  It doesn't look like it in the picture, but she really is floating.  Smoke was a complete surprise to her.  I couldn't help crying when I saw her face when she realized that he was for her.

I'm a little weepy now thinking about it.

Smoke will give her so much.  She can't even possibly begin to imagine how he will affect her life.  I know it, because I lived it my Appaloosa some 20 years ago.  I know because already I see what C and her stable have done for my Girl.  She has learned responsibility, compassion, caring, sportsmanship, facing frustration and defeat, courage and strength.  Learned these things from C and her horses in a way that I could not teach alone.

I look forward to our time with Smoke -- I think maybe he is as good for my heart and spirit as for Girl's.

display

Over the past several years Girl has gotten quite a number of ribbons from her horse shows.  The question of displaying them or stashing them has come up many times.

This is how we solved the problem in her room

I attached rows of string across the transom window above the door in her room.  I just tacked it to the wood.  The back of the ribbons has a little hook that just slips over the string.  I can fit about 5 rows of ribbons across here; at that point we may have to look for a larger room because there is no way Girl will agree to stop trying to collect them....

I have gathered a couple of ribbons for myself and I didn't want them to hang in my room or office.  I got this idea from "google."  (You really can google anything!)

I rolled up the ribbons so just the flowerette shows and put them into a large apothecary jar.  The jar is full so I am done showing...

Questions of the universe

1.  If you are Boy and it is your first day of high school (gulp) and it is pouring rain, which is more embarrassing -- arriving at school soaking wet OR having your mother show up in her jeep at the bus stop?

2.  Why are all of Boy's socks always inside out in the laundry?

3.  Why is Shout required for ALL of Girl's t-shirts?

4.  Has Girl ever heard of a napkin?

5.  Why, when it is pouring, pouring, pouring rain is the umbrella in the jeep and not in the closet?

6.  Why is sending a child to Grade 9 as traumatic as sending him to Kindergarten?

7. Am I the only mom who weeps thinking about 5 years from now?

8.  Is sending your child to college as traumatic as sending him to Kindergarten, or Grade 9, or more so?

9.  Why does Girl tell me 10 minutes before bed time that she has to read for 30 minutes for homework?

10. Why is there always one pair of underwear in the mama drawer that just doesn't stay where it is supposed to -- why did I pick it from the drawer this morning?

11.  Why was I compelled to share #10?