Folks, I am really sorry, but I have to take some time off. I hope to be back in blogworld in about a week or so. Life has a way of slapping you upside the head now and then, y'know?
I have to spend some time with my extended family. We all need each other right now.
With all my critters needing care, driving people places, going out hunting for provisions (the grocery store, scariest place in the world) and taking time for people I simply do not see often enough and need to be with right now, the ol' blog sinks to the bottom of the priority list.
I have so, so so much to say and write about. I could write two blog posts each day, if I stopped doing everything else. Of course, there's always the guilt, because I should be doing better housework, I should go visit loved ones, I should write fiction instead of goofing off on my blog just for fun.
Absolutely none of that matters right now...
There are times when everything else must stop, simply stop, because one thing changes everything.
Like now. I'll be doing some hugging and crying, and I know somewhere in there I'll be doing some laughing. I hope you'll still be here when I come back next week.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Monday, January 25, 2010
Gaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh
Yeah I'm still here.
Working on the barn - pictures soon. Maybe.
Not writing. Want to, would like to, but any spare hour is often spent sitting on a couch watching something on TV that does not stimulate my brain in any way - and I like it.
My mom's taking a few weeks off work. Did you know you have a little internal filtering organ called a gallbladder? Well she doesn't anymore. And soon she'll be much happier about it. Until then, I take over all grocery shopping duties as well as all dish washing, cooking, and bathroom cleaning. I continue with my laundry jobs. She continues to instruct the universe from a position of relaxation, and continues to be amazing.
My dog is now full time foot warmer for Grandma.
I'm glad I'm here for her.
My ol' Man is 67 years old and might be close to admitting that he ain't 45 anymore. Nobody believes him though. Will keep you posted.
Tribble wrote her Grade 10 english exam today. Good thing she can read. She doesn't have to go to school again until Friday, when she performs her Dance exam. I fully intend to work her like a rented mule, hahahaha! Good thing she likes the barn.
Bucky has to be at school at 7 am tomorrow for a field trip. I will be getting up around 5:30 am, leaving the house with him at 6:30, returning home at 7, kicking the horses out of the barn with a half bale of hay, taking the Pug for a quick run in the melting snow, then going back to bed. (Where Tribble will most likely be, taking up as much room as a 102 lb person can.)
Jethro got the floors in that house of ours sanded. Looks gorgeous. I think we should do that again soon in a house we intend to live in for many years.
There's a big grey and white tomcat hanging around the barn. Larry and Moe kind of avoid him. I figure if he's gonna hang around and eat our generic feed mill cat-kibble, he better tame up. I can get almost 2 feet away from him, but he still looks at me like I'm a cat eating monster. Maybe I should stop picking up Larry and telling him he's deliciously cute.
Lucy In The Sky With Ladybugs is still insane, stalks shadows, pounces on my feet in bed, thinks she's weightless and eats like a dog. I suspect she might be a shapeshifter but she's so damn fast I can't catch her at it. Hmmm.
Phoenix and the Little Lady both in need of hoof trimming. I have neglected them. I feel awful every time I look at their hooves, especially his. I shouldn't even be posting this on the internet. His hooves are all long and cracking and I must be a bad horse owner. I had to choose between parasite control and hoof trimming. Then I had to buy feed. Then shavings to bed their stalls. Then... my own children needed new pants.
I hate being broke.
I am working on getting work.
People I know are dealing with problems worse than mine.
That doesn't make me feel better.
I have a dream of wearing really expensive high quality overalls out to the barn.
I like having a radio out there.
I'll need a new corn broom soon. This one's wearing down from sweeping all those miserable cobwebs. Will it ever end?
I miss Jethro.
My imaginary people talk to me while I'm working. I hope they don't stop. I'm listening.
I am behind on EVERYTHING.
I just remembered that my coveralls are still in the washing machine and I think I'd like them to be dry before I put them on to go back out to the barn.
I still have a huge amount of re-arranging to do before the last of our belongings will fit into this house. I have nightmares about brown webs and cardboard boxes and garbage bags.
So, yeah, I'm just gonna mosey on down to the cellar and do some laundry.
I hope it doesn't take me a week. Stay tuned.
Working on the barn - pictures soon. Maybe.
Not writing. Want to, would like to, but any spare hour is often spent sitting on a couch watching something on TV that does not stimulate my brain in any way - and I like it.
My mom's taking a few weeks off work. Did you know you have a little internal filtering organ called a gallbladder? Well she doesn't anymore. And soon she'll be much happier about it. Until then, I take over all grocery shopping duties as well as all dish washing, cooking, and bathroom cleaning. I continue with my laundry jobs. She continues to instruct the universe from a position of relaxation, and continues to be amazing.
My dog is now full time foot warmer for Grandma.
I'm glad I'm here for her.
My ol' Man is 67 years old and might be close to admitting that he ain't 45 anymore. Nobody believes him though. Will keep you posted.
Tribble wrote her Grade 10 english exam today. Good thing she can read. She doesn't have to go to school again until Friday, when she performs her Dance exam. I fully intend to work her like a rented mule, hahahaha! Good thing she likes the barn.
Bucky has to be at school at 7 am tomorrow for a field trip. I will be getting up around 5:30 am, leaving the house with him at 6:30, returning home at 7, kicking the horses out of the barn with a half bale of hay, taking the Pug for a quick run in the melting snow, then going back to bed. (Where Tribble will most likely be, taking up as much room as a 102 lb person can.)
Jethro got the floors in that house of ours sanded. Looks gorgeous. I think we should do that again soon in a house we intend to live in for many years.
There's a big grey and white tomcat hanging around the barn. Larry and Moe kind of avoid him. I figure if he's gonna hang around and eat our generic feed mill cat-kibble, he better tame up. I can get almost 2 feet away from him, but he still looks at me like I'm a cat eating monster. Maybe I should stop picking up Larry and telling him he's deliciously cute.
Lucy In The Sky With Ladybugs is still insane, stalks shadows, pounces on my feet in bed, thinks she's weightless and eats like a dog. I suspect she might be a shapeshifter but she's so damn fast I can't catch her at it. Hmmm.
Phoenix and the Little Lady both in need of hoof trimming. I have neglected them. I feel awful every time I look at their hooves, especially his. I shouldn't even be posting this on the internet. His hooves are all long and cracking and I must be a bad horse owner. I had to choose between parasite control and hoof trimming. Then I had to buy feed. Then shavings to bed their stalls. Then... my own children needed new pants.
I hate being broke.
I am working on getting work.
People I know are dealing with problems worse than mine.
That doesn't make me feel better.
I have a dream of wearing really expensive high quality overalls out to the barn.
I like having a radio out there.
I'll need a new corn broom soon. This one's wearing down from sweeping all those miserable cobwebs. Will it ever end?
I miss Jethro.
My imaginary people talk to me while I'm working. I hope they don't stop. I'm listening.
I am behind on EVERYTHING.
I just remembered that my coveralls are still in the washing machine and I think I'd like them to be dry before I put them on to go back out to the barn.
I still have a huge amount of re-arranging to do before the last of our belongings will fit into this house. I have nightmares about brown webs and cardboard boxes and garbage bags.
So, yeah, I'm just gonna mosey on down to the cellar and do some laundry.
I hope it doesn't take me a week. Stay tuned.
Monday, January 18, 2010
How to get the hay from the hay mow to the horses.
I took my iGadget out to the barn with me this morning. I was expecting a phone call and figured I'd better give the old reliability thing a try. Since I had to go up to the hay mow and had the Gadget with me, I figured I'd take a few pictures up there. Then I decided I could get a blog post out of it!
This is the view looking to the south. You can see my barn gloves parked on the bale in front there.
Just behind this spot is a square hole where I throw down the bales. I flip them end over end then give them a shove with my knee. It works pretty good.
Now we take a little walk along the edge of the mow. This usually freaks people out real good and proper. That small path of planks... that's it. That's your path. And the boards themselves aren't very close together. Jethro won't go up here, because he hates how the planks flex under the weight of his size 13 barn boots.
I'm not so worried. I'm not as big as him. There's a big solid beam just to the left, and I can grab that if I need a little security. Plus, I used to spend hours up here, decades ago, looking for kittens with my little sister Sweetie. I kind of like it up here.
See the white glow over there, past the hay bales? That's where we throw the hay out of the barn. Go... to... the light....
But don't fall out.
I'm at least kind enough to give a yell before I throw hay down. They look up, but not usually all the way up (I don't think their necks are designed to look up!) and swivel their ears to the direction of my voice.
But they're mellow little Appaloosas, and this doesn't really excite them all that much. Even if my aim is bad, or there's a brisk wind, and they end up with a couple flakes of hay in the head, they don't do much more that walk a few steps and dive their noses back into the feeder. A flake, by the way, is a section of hay. The baler gathers it up and binds it together into a bale made up of sections.
For perspective, here's a shot with my toes in the picture.
Ya like them purple barn boots? I got them for my daughter at the thrift store a few years ago. She quickly outgrew them, and instead of moving them along to another kid, I tried them on. Much warmer than unlined rubber boots. And kinda flashy! Really brightens up the old boring navy coveralls! But I digress, as I often do when I start talking about workwear.
So yeah, it's fun to see the world from that viewpoint. Sometimes I take a few deep breaths while I'm there. I should do that more often.
After throwing some hay down into the corral, it's time to go back down the ladder to the second floor.
I repeat my bale-flipping to get over to the hay chute. A sturdy piece of plywood with a hand hold fits flush into the floor until I need to push the hay downstairs.
And I'm sooo cheap, I'd rather have the horses eat every little stem than throw decomposed hay onto the compost. Of course all of this hay is just compost waiting to happen, if you catch my meaning. I'd just rather have the horses enjoy it first.
Oh look, there's my purple toe again. Beside the plywood, you can see a gate (which is not as closed as it should be). This is the section up by the stone wall, not big enough to house a horse, where the stairs go up. I also park my wheelbarrow at the bottom of the stairs. I would like to point out that nice cleanly swept concrete floor.
So that's how the hay gets from the hay mow, down to the stalls.
And just remember, people: Make the world a better place. Less Hatred, More Hay.
This is the view looking to the south. You can see my barn gloves parked on the bale in front there.
Just behind this spot is a square hole where I throw down the bales. I flip them end over end then give them a shove with my knee. It works pretty good.
Now we take a little walk along the edge of the mow. This usually freaks people out real good and proper. That small path of planks... that's it. That's your path. And the boards themselves aren't very close together. Jethro won't go up here, because he hates how the planks flex under the weight of his size 13 barn boots.
See the white glow over there, past the hay bales? That's where we throw the hay out of the barn. Go... to... the light....
But don't fall out.
No really, don't fall out, because that window, on the third floor of the barn, is pretty high up. Long way down. Look at this, my horses look like toys. Not often you get to see them from this angle, eh?
For perspective, here's a shot with my toes in the picture.
Ya like them purple barn boots? I got them for my daughter at the thrift store a few years ago. She quickly outgrew them, and instead of moving them along to another kid, I tried them on. Much warmer than unlined rubber boots. And kinda flashy! Really brightens up the old boring navy coveralls! But I digress, as I often do when I start talking about workwear.
So yeah, it's fun to see the world from that viewpoint. Sometimes I take a few deep breaths while I'm there. I should do that more often.
After throwing some hay down into the corral, it's time to go back down the ladder to the second floor.
I repeat my bale-flipping to get over to the hay chute. A sturdy piece of plywood with a hand hold fits flush into the floor until I need to push the hay downstairs.
I even get a push broom and sweep the hay leavin's down the chute. I don't like to have a layer of hay on the cement floor up there. It eventually rots into a musty smelling mat if it gets left long enough. Also, sweeping it up means more edible hay makes its way out to the corral.
And I'm sooo cheap, I'd rather have the horses eat every little stem than throw decomposed hay onto the compost. Of course all of this hay is just compost waiting to happen, if you catch my meaning. I'd just rather have the horses enjoy it first.
More vertigo! Have a look down the hay chute! Each bale slides down the sheet of plywood, and lands on the one thrown down before it. When I get downstairs, I stack them up at the end of the aisle, and rake up all the loose hay that's escaped on the way down. I like to keep about five bales of hay down there. It shouldn't be stored long term on concrete, but four or five days is okay, and means I don't have to go up to the haymow every day.
Oh look, there's my purple toe again. Beside the plywood, you can see a gate (which is not as closed as it should be). This is the section up by the stone wall, not big enough to house a horse, where the stairs go up. I also park my wheelbarrow at the bottom of the stairs. I would like to point out that nice cleanly swept concrete floor.So that's how the hay gets from the hay mow, down to the stalls.
And just remember, people: Make the world a better place. Less Hatred, More Hay.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Friday. Just... Friday.
Giving ol' Johnny a day off. He's earned it. I'll find another model for this scattering of thoughts...
I've got a stinky little dog under my right elbow. He keeps farting. I still love him. How weird is that?
I got the stalls cleaned out before 9 am today. I didn't do a whole lot of sweeping, or clean water buckets, but that gives me a reason to go out to the barn again this afternoon. I like being in the barn.
I think my little housecat is always going to be slightly more than half wild.
I have a lot of research to do this afternoon.
I need to know where to put all my advertising for my riding lessons this spring. I haven't ridden my horses since November because of the ice, but when the ground warms up it'll be time to get back in the saddle.
And I'm thinking of putting some of my words into a little tiny book, like a real book that people could open in their hands and read. It won't be one of my novels because I'm still planning on getting them done the hard way. I just need a sense of accomplishment in the writing part of my world.
I feel heartbroken about the earthquake in Haiti. In the Mennonite church there's a lot of emphasis on mission work, and Haiti is a place needing help. They needed help before the earthquake. I can't comprehend the devastation. My cousin and his wife returned last summer; their little boy was born in Haiti. As much as I selfishly am so glad they're back, safe in Ontario, my heart aches for those nearby who have lost a loved one in the disaster.
I have no money. I can't contribute with money. But I can find other ways to help. Mennonite Central Committee has always been good for getting relief efforts to places that need it. I can pray. I pray a lot and always wonder if it's doing any good but on the chance that it does, I will do it. Any bit of positivity in this world has got to do some good.
People ask me how I'm doing and I reply that I'm keeping busy. It's true. Living with my parents does not mean a free ride for me -- I do all I can to make my presence here a help rather than a hindrance. I want to take a burden off my folks, not load them up with more.
I hardly read blogs anymore, which I miss. When I do read, I don't comment like I used to.
I'm waiting for a really good book to arrive in my hands.
I miss my town neighbours.
I love living in the country.
I have so much stress in my life but I have so much to be thankful for -- I cannot let myself forget that!
Jethro says most of his problems can be solved with money. You know, he's right. If he could get that together, what would he have to worry about? My first reaction is to be sickened with worry about the money thing, but if I look at it like it's the ONLY problem, it gets put into perspective.
I've got a stinky little dog under my right elbow. He keeps farting. I still love him. How weird is that?
I got the stalls cleaned out before 9 am today. I didn't do a whole lot of sweeping, or clean water buckets, but that gives me a reason to go out to the barn again this afternoon. I like being in the barn.
I think my little housecat is always going to be slightly more than half wild.
I have a lot of research to do this afternoon.
I need to know where to put all my advertising for my riding lessons this spring. I haven't ridden my horses since November because of the ice, but when the ground warms up it'll be time to get back in the saddle.
And I'm thinking of putting some of my words into a little tiny book, like a real book that people could open in their hands and read. It won't be one of my novels because I'm still planning on getting them done the hard way. I just need a sense of accomplishment in the writing part of my world.
I feel heartbroken about the earthquake in Haiti. In the Mennonite church there's a lot of emphasis on mission work, and Haiti is a place needing help. They needed help before the earthquake. I can't comprehend the devastation. My cousin and his wife returned last summer; their little boy was born in Haiti. As much as I selfishly am so glad they're back, safe in Ontario, my heart aches for those nearby who have lost a loved one in the disaster.
I have no money. I can't contribute with money. But I can find other ways to help. Mennonite Central Committee has always been good for getting relief efforts to places that need it. I can pray. I pray a lot and always wonder if it's doing any good but on the chance that it does, I will do it. Any bit of positivity in this world has got to do some good.
People ask me how I'm doing and I reply that I'm keeping busy. It's true. Living with my parents does not mean a free ride for me -- I do all I can to make my presence here a help rather than a hindrance. I want to take a burden off my folks, not load them up with more.
I hardly read blogs anymore, which I miss. When I do read, I don't comment like I used to.
I'm waiting for a really good book to arrive in my hands.
I miss my town neighbours.
I love living in the country.
I have so much stress in my life but I have so much to be thankful for -- I cannot let myself forget that!
Jethro says most of his problems can be solved with money. You know, he's right. If he could get that together, what would he have to worry about? My first reaction is to be sickened with worry about the money thing, but if I look at it like it's the ONLY problem, it gets put into perspective.
I have a lot of work to do today, and it ain't gonna do itself. That's okay. I never get bored. Ever.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
You would not believe the DUST that accumulates in a 150-year-old barn!
or maybe you would...
In case you haven't spent much time in old dusty cobwebby barns, let me describe it for you.
The spiderwebs are no longer web shaped like webs because the weight of the brown dust drags them down. They hang like dirty hammocks from the beams and boards of the ceiling. When the broom pulls them away, they drop more slowly than you'd expect of something that looks so heavy. Clumps of brown-grey fall to the floor, like the underworld version of candy floss; something meant to be delicate looking, but turned into evidence of neglect. The dust itself is not just dust anymore but so substantial that it falls to the floor in blobs. I run the broom along the top edge of a beam and that sticky dust rolls itself up and descends lazily. The air is full. The surface of the wood was whitewashed decades ago, but now the white flecks freckle the air and coat the floor with powder.
So it's a tough job but I gotta do it.
No really, I do. Just pulling down the cobwebs won't cut if for me. I de-cobweb regularly but this is hardcore. I'm brushing down every sticky piece of old whitewash, every strand of spiderweb, every thick sludge of brown dust. I never had time to do this before, and now's the time.
After two hours of scrubbing the ceiling with a broom, I was only about a quarter done. And I still found a couple nails and things to pull out with the crowbar, and I know I'll keep finding spots I missed. Then I have to sweep the floor and clean out all the troughs.
And you know what?
I LOVE IT.
It's kind of addictive. After I brush a joist clean, it looks good, but I can make it even better, cleaner, so I go at it again. It just keeps getting better!! Already I can tell it's brighter in the barn. It feels cleaner.
And yes, I am wearing a respirator mask. (I wish they made them in child size. Damn thing either rubs under my eyes or gaps under my chin. My face is too small. But it's better than doing this job bare-faced.)
This old barn has so many flaws, but it's what I've got to work with and I will not complain. I'm lucky to have a barn in the family. I'm lucky to have a place to keep my horses. I just have to make it the best it can be.
It'll be worth it in the long run. Because, doncha know, I am in the horse biznass and must have a respectable looking place.
(Be ready.)
In case you haven't spent much time in old dusty cobwebby barns, let me describe it for you.
The spiderwebs are no longer web shaped like webs because the weight of the brown dust drags them down. They hang like dirty hammocks from the beams and boards of the ceiling. When the broom pulls them away, they drop more slowly than you'd expect of something that looks so heavy. Clumps of brown-grey fall to the floor, like the underworld version of candy floss; something meant to be delicate looking, but turned into evidence of neglect. The dust itself is not just dust anymore but so substantial that it falls to the floor in blobs. I run the broom along the top edge of a beam and that sticky dust rolls itself up and descends lazily. The air is full. The surface of the wood was whitewashed decades ago, but now the white flecks freckle the air and coat the floor with powder.
So it's a tough job but I gotta do it.
No really, I do. Just pulling down the cobwebs won't cut if for me. I de-cobweb regularly but this is hardcore. I'm brushing down every sticky piece of old whitewash, every strand of spiderweb, every thick sludge of brown dust. I never had time to do this before, and now's the time.
After two hours of scrubbing the ceiling with a broom, I was only about a quarter done. And I still found a couple nails and things to pull out with the crowbar, and I know I'll keep finding spots I missed. Then I have to sweep the floor and clean out all the troughs.
And you know what?
I LOVE IT.
It's kind of addictive. After I brush a joist clean, it looks good, but I can make it even better, cleaner, so I go at it again. It just keeps getting better!! Already I can tell it's brighter in the barn. It feels cleaner.
And yes, I am wearing a respirator mask. (I wish they made them in child size. Damn thing either rubs under my eyes or gaps under my chin. My face is too small. But it's better than doing this job bare-faced.)
This old barn has so many flaws, but it's what I've got to work with and I will not complain. I'm lucky to have a barn in the family. I'm lucky to have a place to keep my horses. I just have to make it the best it can be.
It'll be worth it in the long run. Because, doncha know, I am in the horse biznass and must have a respectable looking place.
(Be ready.)
Friday, January 08, 2010
I sincerely thank you for bestowing your great treasures upon me...
Well, Mr Johnny Depp, I sincerely absolutely positively thank YOU for bestowing your enduring endearing awesomeness upon us, so let's call it even, shall we?
Oh people, it's getting to be... AWARDS SHOW SEASON! And I love this time of year just about as much as horse show season. In fact, more, because this is much less work. I don't have to run around in the hot sun wearing black pants and long sleeves sitting on 1000 lbs of heat generator being covered in arena dust to watch an awards show... just something to drink, something to take notes with, and stubborn tenacity to get it watched.
I love awards, I really do.
So I hope you'll join me (NOW!) on my other blog for my slightly belated but totally worth it...
It'll be fun. I just read over my last Oscar report and I actually cracked myself up. It turns out, I can be funny! Who knew?
Tuesday, January 05, 2010
Two words for 2010: BE READY
I say that I make New Year's Resolutions, but I hate to call them that. The term makes me think of unattainable goals that have little chance of being reached. People do it every year, just setting themselves up to fail, and then feel crappy for about themselves.
I like to set a realistic and reachable goal. I'll give myself the year to master it. I've done pretty okay with this system.
How okay? Last year's resolution was Have A More Beautiful House. It was kinda vague, but it made so much sense! I focused on what was in front of my eyes instead of building some detailed system of organization that I wasn't likely to maintain. If my goal was to look at something pleasing, the ugly had to go. That meant making clutter and dust and mess disappear.
When I walked in the front door, I wanted to see my dining room table with a vase of flowers, rather than a horizontal surface covered in school newsletters and an empty sugar bowl and somebody's lego project. I made it priority to make things look better, to make me and my eyes happy, and with that motivation I did okay.
It worked so well I ended up making my house like, magazine worthy, so I can sell it. In the meantime I continue with my Beautiful House project in whatever house I happen to be living in. I'm not doing the best job of it but I strive for the goal. I'm making it a habit.
All of this is lead up to this year's goal.
BE READY.
This was a piece of advice given to me by one of my writer friends. (Blog commenters will know him as Paul Tee.) We were discussing my beloved manuscript which didn't quite stir up the world of literary agents like I'd hoped. I was whining about my bad timing and how much work I've poured into that book, and that I'd decided to set it down for a year or so to work on something else.
He warned me that if I catch an opportunity to make this book happen, I need to have it ready. I myself have to be ready.
He's right.
I got to thinking over the last month that those two words can have an impact on my entire life.
I've been getting my horses and barn ready for riding students since September. When the ground thaws and the air warms up in the spring, I will BE READY.
All that while, we've been preparing our house for sale, so that when the sign goes up, we will BE READY and somebody out there will be willing to pay what we're asking for a lovely house.
Eventually we'll start looking around for our little farm, we will have all our affairs in order, and when we find the right place, we'll BE READY.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go sweep my barn...
I like to set a realistic and reachable goal. I'll give myself the year to master it. I've done pretty okay with this system.
How okay? Last year's resolution was Have A More Beautiful House. It was kinda vague, but it made so much sense! I focused on what was in front of my eyes instead of building some detailed system of organization that I wasn't likely to maintain. If my goal was to look at something pleasing, the ugly had to go. That meant making clutter and dust and mess disappear.
When I walked in the front door, I wanted to see my dining room table with a vase of flowers, rather than a horizontal surface covered in school newsletters and an empty sugar bowl and somebody's lego project. I made it priority to make things look better, to make me and my eyes happy, and with that motivation I did okay.
It worked so well I ended up making my house like, magazine worthy, so I can sell it. In the meantime I continue with my Beautiful House project in whatever house I happen to be living in. I'm not doing the best job of it but I strive for the goal. I'm making it a habit.
All of this is lead up to this year's goal.
BE READY.
This was a piece of advice given to me by one of my writer friends. (Blog commenters will know him as Paul Tee.) We were discussing my beloved manuscript which didn't quite stir up the world of literary agents like I'd hoped. I was whining about my bad timing and how much work I've poured into that book, and that I'd decided to set it down for a year or so to work on something else.
He warned me that if I catch an opportunity to make this book happen, I need to have it ready. I myself have to be ready.
He's right.
I got to thinking over the last month that those two words can have an impact on my entire life.
I've been getting my horses and barn ready for riding students since September. When the ground thaws and the air warms up in the spring, I will BE READY.
All that while, we've been preparing our house for sale, so that when the sign goes up, we will BE READY and somebody out there will be willing to pay what we're asking for a lovely house.
Eventually we'll start looking around for our little farm, we will have all our affairs in order, and when we find the right place, we'll BE READY.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go sweep my barn...
Saturday, January 02, 2010
So, 2009, buh bye.
I'm pretty sure every new year, I look back and think the previous one was a huge disappointment, a long trial in frustration, a difficult year overall. Every year. Either I am a pessimist, or my life is getting worse. Or like, both.
Yeah 2009 was weird. (Next I'll be working on a post for my other blog, a Best & Worst thing, which will illustrate a few bits of weirdness. You'll like it.)
It was pretty tough but I had a few bright spots. One was the show put together by my big writers group, in which I stood up and read a story out of our anthology. I read if for laughs, and I got em. A few months later, my kids totally rocked their music recital - I mean, my girl child sang and played piano!!!! Yessss!
Biggest accomplishment: I got my certification. I am officially a riding instructor.
Other than that, I'd have to say I learned a truckload of valuable lessons in 2009.
-Maybe it'd be a good idea to do some cleaning every now and then, like behind things and under things, without waiting until it's time to move house.
-Maybe it'd be good to go through all the drawers and closets regularly.
-sometimes precious stuff really is just garbage.
-Set goals.
-Set goals you can realistically reach. Then immediately set a new and higher one.
-I am tougher than I thought I was
-But I get tired easily.
-I have no idea what normal people like.
-oh, and also, I don't care.
-I might actually not know how to make money. It's a different skill than simply working hard. I can work. I'm not sure how to make a living. I worry about this.
-I'm surprisingly good at Floor Finding.
-I need problems because they fuel my fiction writing
-living with your horses gives you opportunities to closely observe them... little actions that appear to be minor can signal a hidden streak of disrespect that could lead to somebody getting hurt.
-friends are hard to leave behind
-money does strange things to people.
-All dogs love to run if given a chance
-Rules are made to be altered
-Sometimes, a person has to make her own dreams come true.
-my heart can be broken in many ways in a short time
-getting rid of stuff can be very liberating.
And in my next post I plan to tell you all about the two little words that will rule 2010, so be ready.
Yeah 2009 was weird. (Next I'll be working on a post for my other blog, a Best & Worst thing, which will illustrate a few bits of weirdness. You'll like it.)
It was pretty tough but I had a few bright spots. One was the show put together by my big writers group, in which I stood up and read a story out of our anthology. I read if for laughs, and I got em. A few months later, my kids totally rocked their music recital - I mean, my girl child sang and played piano!!!! Yessss!
Biggest accomplishment: I got my certification. I am officially a riding instructor.
Other than that, I'd have to say I learned a truckload of valuable lessons in 2009.
-Maybe it'd be a good idea to do some cleaning every now and then, like behind things and under things, without waiting until it's time to move house.
-Maybe it'd be good to go through all the drawers and closets regularly.
-sometimes precious stuff really is just garbage.
-Set goals.
-Set goals you can realistically reach. Then immediately set a new and higher one.
-I am tougher than I thought I was
-But I get tired easily.
-I have no idea what normal people like.
-oh, and also, I don't care.
-I might actually not know how to make money. It's a different skill than simply working hard. I can work. I'm not sure how to make a living. I worry about this.
-I'm surprisingly good at Floor Finding.
-I need problems because they fuel my fiction writing
-living with your horses gives you opportunities to closely observe them... little actions that appear to be minor can signal a hidden streak of disrespect that could lead to somebody getting hurt.
-friends are hard to leave behind
-money does strange things to people.
-All dogs love to run if given a chance
-Rules are made to be altered
-Sometimes, a person has to make her own dreams come true.
-my heart can be broken in many ways in a short time
-getting rid of stuff can be very liberating.
And in my next post I plan to tell you all about the two little words that will rule 2010, so be ready.
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