He kicked like a mule and he bit like a crocodile!

Last lyric title of November, and I've been saving this one!  


Hasn't this been fun?  Let's do it again some time.  Maybe in March when there's nothing but mud outside and we all need a cheer up?


This is going to be one of those Brain Clearing blog posts.  Please pick one you like best and discuss.

1) I keep hearing about the suffering of the publishing business, and it scares the crap outta me. I want to write novels, if not for a living, for love, and hopefully make enough money at it that I will never have to run a cash register again.  If I was rational I'd get a "real" job, but no, I decided to chase down my two lifelong dreams: write novels and ride horses.  I'm quite thankful that horses can't be digitally downloaded, let me tell you.  I do believe I'll have students because the horse fever is powerful. In the meantime, regardless of what the pessimists are moaning about, I can only keep on writing and get my horses ready for spring.

B) Of course, for the last few weeks I haven't been doing either of those things, because I've been getting our house ready to sell.  The emotional fallout is nasty.  I knew we would not grow old in this house, but I've gotten rather attached to it. I feel like we're putting a lot of work into a house we don't intend to live in anymore. It's confusing.

#) However, I have been able to use my stunning skills in Amateur Interior Desecrating.  It's tricky, attempting to predict what Mr & Mrs Potential Next-owner will like.  I'm too weird to know what Normal people like in a house, although I've accepted that I have to quit being so stubborn about it.  Hey, know what really helps?

Admitting that I don't really give a crap what normal people like in a house.

I feel so much better now.

?)  Speaking of horse fever; I've been thinking about this a lot lately.  Those of us who are willing to work closely with a large hooved animal operating on a very strong flight instinct are a strange bunch, if I allow myself to analyze the situation.   Do I think about the possible danger?  Hell yes.  Yet I've never had a panic attack while riding.  I'll freak out in a traffic jam or grocery store line up, but if imminent doom creeps up while I'm on horseback it's just kind of the old "Aw CRAP" response.  Like, dammit, here we go again, I gotta either fix it or get the Rapid Involuntary Dismount.  I don't even get scared anymore when it happens.  I just get super irritated.

All I know is, I am gettin' back on that horse again.  And I'm going to continue cleaning up after them, brushing them, admiring them, taking pictures of them and writing about them.  I can't be kept away from those horses.

In a  lifetime of getting thrown off, falling off and getting stepped on I haven't broken a bone.

I can't decide if I'm
                              - made out of rubber
                              -absolutely frickin insane
                             -a hell of a lot tougher than I look.
                              -a hell of a lot luckier than I think.


Your turn.  Name that tune.