Poor abandoned little blog. Facelessbook has taken over.
OK, first a memorial mention, then a brief update of what I'm up to lately.
Memorial Mention Today marks five years since my father passed. It's been hard not to go back in time and focus on where I was five years ago, and what I was doing. Difficult to not allow myself to think, "at this time five years ago, it was the last time the three of us (me, Mom, Dad) were together and alive". It's a challenge to avoid replaying those final moments in my mind, the moments when Dad, whose full dentures had been removed, kept hollering at me, and I heard "I'm trying, I'm trying", something he'd often bark at Mother when she got impatient but what he was saying now was "I'm dying, I'm dying". It's only after the fact that I came to understand my saying to him, "I know, Dad, I know you're trying, it's OK" was anything but encouraging.
It's so hard to avoid thinking of it that I came up with an exercise. Every time my brain brings me back to "five years ago today" thinking, I say, "Yes. And TEN years ago today, let's see, that was 2001, I was..." and I think about what I was doing 10 years ago, 15, 20, and so on. It took me all the way back to 1981 before my brain stopped thrusting it in my face. 1981—the year I graduated high school. Gah! Thirty years! Seriously?
So that's today. Five years ago, the world lost my Dad. Insignificant to most, but by far the most profound thing that ever happened in my life. There's something significant about the five-year mark, though. It feels like it's really time to let this go. It's time to let go of the legacy loyalties that I realized I've been carrying on behalf of them. What do I mean?
Legacy Loyalties and Playing the Wrong Roles Take my Dad's University affiliation. The loyalty to it was HIS, not mine. I was a student there, and alumni, but I don't owe my entire livelihood and family's well-being to it. Not like Dad did. The U was his "career family", not mine. And I am under no obligation to follow in his footsteps, nor am I obligated to "fill in" for his absence and show up under his name. These entities don't require posthumous stand-ins. My parents fulfilled their obligations, all of which ended when they died.
So I do not need to join their church unless it's the church (and religion) that suits ME. I don't need to live in this house or neighborhood unless it's the house and neighborhood that suits ME.Nobody is expecting me to BE "Dad" (or "Mom")—not my family members, not the community; unless these are the life roles that suit ME.
This is a huge revelation for me. Because I have been sort of trying to carry on the traditions, roles, legacies and loyalties left to me by my parents, and trying to pick up MY life where I left off when the whole mess began back in December 2005.
The irony of that is, what I was debating doing in December 2005 CAME from legacy loyalty. It wasn't even a true path for me. ADD aside, I've been trying to play the wrong roles and ignoring my own. When I sat down and asked myself how I felt if I weren't doing a lot of these legacy things, I was shocked. I felt relief. I felt like an enormous weight had been lifted. And I realized that there are only two areas that really feel like they are "mine"—well, there are three but only the first two burn with profound passion within me.
Music is number one.
Horses are number two.
(The third is fibers, if anyone's asking. I love my fibery arts, but I don't burn with unrelenting passion for them, that "If I don't get to _____ I am going to have to take someone out!!!" feeling.)
Horses are a bit legacy, only because my Dad grew up around them; my Grandpa was a cowboy for awhile; and my niece was horse crazy in her teens and early adulthood. But my bent of horsemanship (the whole Parelli "communicate with your horse like you're a horse" thing) takes me in an entirely different direction than any of them. It alleviates the legacy. I'm also way more intense about it than any of them were.
Music, however, is all mine. Nobody in my family can or could really carry a tune in a bucket without help—except me.
So. It would seem that the five-year mark is a great point in time to just let go of the legacy roles, and streamline it down to MY roles. It's been long enough, this time of living in their shadows.
What I've Been Up To:
No good (hah, just kidding)
Did some temping; for a job, it wasn't half bad. Didn't evolve into permanent, though.
Helping a new horse brought in by a boarder who was so unmanageable that even the barn manager didn't want to deal with him. I diagnosed him as Right-Brained Extrovert, which is a very misunderstood horsenality, and spent several hours playing with him until I gained his trust and then I was able to communicate with him effectively. RBE's are scared, unconfident, non-trusting horses whose initial reaction is run first, think later. He also exhibits stallion behaviors (such as mounting everything equine in sight) though supposedly he's gelded; could be proud-cut (meaning the vet didn't get it all the first time) or it could be extreme dominance behavior that will go away once he's more confident. Time will tell, and I have my summer project.
Picking out a new hard drive for the big Mac so I can resume my recording endeavors (and be able to play FarmVille in real time without lag). It's been out of commission since December (I'm writing on my ancient but trusty 2002 Mac PowerBook G4), despite new memory chips it was giving "shared lib" errors, which means "hard drive failure". New hard drive = cheaper than new mac (which would also mean new operating system which means new software...) so, that's today's mission.
Other musical possibilities still in development, which I will fill in later once I know how it all pans out.
Has it really been TWO MONTHS since I last posted? Well. On the upside, that means not much is happening in my life, so it's—well, just to be on the safe side, we won't say the Q word.
I've taken two out of three art classes at the Museum so far. The first was Graphite Drawing. I found out I'm "meh" about graphite. The second was Colored Pencil Drawing. I am WOW! COOL!! FUN!!! about colored pencils.
Now I'm in oil painting. I LOVE OIL PAINTING. Oil painting and I had a torrid love affair in college, but it's been 15 years since I dusted off the brushes. Surprise—most of my paint tubes are still good! Why did I ever stop?
Oh. That's right. I lived with a mother who painted in Watercolor and was very... well, it was easier not to compete. So I didn't.
In the good news zone: I found a much better place for my Insulin-Resistant horse to live. As the Universe is wont to do, it arose out of an "Oh no, now what am I gonna do" situation. The "oh no" part was finding out the barefoot hoof trimmer I've been with for two years, who'd drive an hour and a half to trim my horses, was happily pregnant with her first child and could no longer bend over to do hooves. For some odd reason, there is a dearth of barefoot trimmers in the NW Ohio area. Had I completed the program myself, I'd have a monopoly.
By fate, coincidence, or really good law of attraction methods, I was connected with a gal who follows the same methods of hoof trimming AND horsemanship that I do, is in the human medical field (so she understands the lingo), has an IR horse herself (so she understands the condition) AND lives 20 miles from the barn.
My horses loved her. I have never been able to sit down and drape Cheerios' lead rope over my lap while he got trimmed—until she came along.
Turns out, she had room at her barn, and offered to take in Shaveya as a case study.
How many birds did I take out with that stone? *grin*
I've been on Cheerios bareback, but I haven't officially rode yet. This week is shaping into perfect spring weather, so I'll change that soon.
Other than that, the phone interview job pops up sporadically, and I'm still buying MegaMillions tickets.
Happy [insert all the holidays I've missed so far]!
Oh. There has been baby knitting. I know lots of procreators lately. One of them had twins last week.
I discovered YoVille, FarmVille, FarmTown, and other happy farming apps on FaceBook.
My real life has ended. I am lost in VR. (And I'm hiring for crew members if you Yo.) I'm sure this will die down once I'm hired into a real job. Unless I win that lottery, in which case, just find my Virtual Self.
In between, I come back to reality and train eight--no wait, nine--REAL LIVE horses.
That's right. Ask, and ye shall receive. Declare one day to yourself that there is no good reason why you can't be training horses for a living before passing Parelli Level Three, and don't be surprised if the next day someone says, "how would you like to help me out? I need these horses ground-broke and saddle broke by winter"...
That's me. Now.
Must get off this thing and go remember to pay attention to the cats (who are not virtual, and thus do not beep when their bowls are empty).
WHOO-HOO!!! I just got confirmation from Parelli, Inc., via email regarding my recent Parelli Audition.
I've passed Level Two Online!
Only one more savvy to go (FreeStyle Riding), and that BLUE STRING is MINE!!!
*happy dancing all over the place, can't wait to tell my horse*
In other news, I interviewed with a temp agency, and not only am I up for the job I applied to, but my mixed bag of odd qualifications might be the perfect fit for a couple of creative positions they've been trying to fill for a LONG time.
Happy 4th to everyone. I'm a bit behind. My Independence Day activities included helping to unload 20 bales of hay and trim the horrendous flare off of my horse's front hooves.
In the interest of saving on farrier costs (since my AANHCP trimmer lives on the eastern side of the state and has to travel, and there are no AANHCP trimmers closer to me yet), I'm doing it myself for now. I sort of know how—in 2006, I was considering becoming one myself, and I took two clinics that year, one of which was an INTENSE two-day study of the anatomy of hooves, trimming them, mistakes, diseases, etc and included up-close viewings of cadaver hooves. Yes. The preserved hooves of dead horses. I thought I'd be grossed out, but I found it so fascinating I forgot to think about what I was holding in my hand.
Anyway, I learned just enough to be "dangerous", and before putting everything on hold because of the parental illness situation, I'd also invested $600 in trimming equipment, so... might as well use it. My interest in becoming one is renewed, too. It might be a good stepping stone on the way to PNH. It's a practical skill, after all.
Sunday, I assisted the barn manager with putting up a bigger load of hay. Twenty bales were nothing compared to yesterday. The entire load was 400 bales. It took the hay man three trips to deliver it all. We got 2/3 of that put up before the BM had to go to work. (No rain for the next few days—the last load can sit outside and be OK).
Putting up hay means one person stands in the hay loft and stacks the hay; another person stands at the bottom and loads the bales onto the hay escalator thingie that transports the bales from ground to the second story loft.
(photo: Legendary Farms)
I was the loader. Keep in mind I am out of shape, overweight, and each bale weighs 50-80 pounds. Times 266 (approximately 2/3 of the load). Can you say "ow". I will recommend hay loading to anyone who wants full-body conditioning. It worked my abs, my biceps, my squat muscles, my knees... ALL of it.
The interesting thing is, I'm not complaining. I actually LIKED doing this. (In 100-degree heat or 20 below wind chills, I might feel differently.) I also actually liked trimming my horse's feet (which involves standing in a bent-over semi-squat the majority of the time). I feel a good sort of exhaustion today.
The most interesting thing is the hay delivery truck. The hay man pulled this contraption with a big tractor. The contraption is a stacker. What an invention! All the bales are stacked on a flat bed, with a huge rake at either end. The bed raises like a drawbridge and lowers itself so one of the rake edges touches the ground. The bales are stacked two stories high, held in place by the top rake. Then, these arms that look like battering rams push against the stack while the drawbridge/flatbed thing with the rakes pulls away from the stack.
The hay man then retracted the battering ram arms. (If he set it up just right against the barn wall, the stacks stayed put; sometimes, they'd fall down, which we wanted anyway because it's safer than to try to pull them down with a rake.) Then, the drawbridge tilted back flat, and the front rake shot forward. It was wicked cool to watch.
I was curious, so I asked the hay man about the equipment, and found out it was originally developed in the West, in Montana and the states where the ratio of cattle to people is much higher. Not a lot of helping hands around, so they created a device to stack the hay and unload it. Pretty cool.
Here's a picture of one—found on the internet:
(photo: New Holland Agriculture)
I learned about the hay process, too, how it is baled. It's all so fascinating to me. And yes, I thought his tractor was sexy. ;-)
Monday was my birthday. Whoo. I'm only owning up to 27. That was a good year.
It was a quiet celebration. A friend took me to Olive Garden (at my request) where I partook of the Grilled Steak Crustada with the four-cheese pasta, unlimited salad and breadsticks and Asiago-encrusted flatbread as seen on TV. I've been seeing the ads and just drooling.
I'm happy to say, it lived up to the hype. It tasted EXACTLY like I thought it would. YUMMY.
The soup (no leaves for me, remember?) was so filling I had leftovers of Crustada and pasta. Plus there was the Corona with Lime, and the after-dinner coffee. Their coffee is REALLY good, did you know that?
My sister blew my mind and sent a decent-sized check. Never saw that coming.
And I have a birthday coupon for a buy-one-get-one-free entree at Qdoba.
Birthdays rock.
I did not get the job I interviewed for a couple weeks ago. Oh, well. God has other plans. I applied in person at two places today, though. And there are more offerings in the paper (to which I've applied). I don't think it's time to apply for public assistance just yet or stand on the corner with a sign—something tells me SOMETHING is going to slip neatly into place IF I can stay focused on it, and ignore the discomfort that is trying to distract me.
If you've read Deepak Chopra, Wayne Dyer, Joe Vitale or the other Law of Attraction (LOA) gurus, you know what I'm talking about. That pre-manifestation energy shift that causes discomfort within us, and that exhibits as impatience, anxiety, doubt, fear, hopelessness, desperation?
Yeah. That. It's just the signal that the energy is shifting to make way for the manifestation of your outcome, but we misread it and redirect our thoughts away from the goal and onto the emotion that's coming up. Then we derail the manifestation.
That's why people say, "I set all these intentions and did countless affirmations, but this LOA Shiitake doesn't work." It works. But only when we figure out the trick to it.
I've figured out the trick.
Plug my ears and go "LALALA CAN'T HEAR YOU" to all the doubts and fears that try to rise up in me when I'm not paying attention, and stay focused on MY desired outcome.
I have two analogies. One is like breathing through labor pains, which I've never experienced, but I had bad enough cramps that I can relate. The other comes from personal experience.
When Wildflower was still alive, and I was still a bit nervous about riding balls-out fast, we used to go trail riding and whenever it got too fast, I'd panic and pull her up short. Such a tolerant horse, she just sighed and put up with me.
One time, I was out with a bunch of friends, and one wanted to break off and "cowboy" through the woods—go fast. I went with her. We got up to a canter. Then, gradually, we sped up until we were galloping—or cantering PDQ. Faster than I was used to.
This was the point where I'd normally get a thrill of panic and pull her up. But on this day, I didn't. I rode through the fear. I knew I was safe with her. So, I breathed deeply. I acknowledged the panic rising, the adrenaline rush. I kept breathing, focusing on my balance and staying in rhythm with her as she chugged along, hooves pounding the forest floor, wind buffeting my ears. At the peak moment when every fiber of my being was screaming out PULL UP PULL UP—
I pushed my hands forward so I wouldn't pull her up. It peaked—the adrenaline rush was almost more than I could stand to experience—
Then suddenly, that feeling was behind me. It was like I'd broken through an invisible wall. All that remained was this exhiliarating feeling of hyper-awareness and joy. Freedom like I'd never experienced. I reveled in it as we continued to gallop along. Then my horse ran out of steam, and gradually dropped to a canter, then a trot, then we caught up to my friend and paused for a breather.
It was one of the most amazing experiences of my life.
And dealing with manifestation is like that. The adrenaline wall is like the misinterpreted emotions of fear, doubt, hopelessness and impatience that come when you begin to wonder, what is taking this so long? Why isn't it happening? Asking these questions creates resistance, which derails the manifestation. It actually repels it. The moment you say, "why isn't it here yet?", it stops coming to you. Even if it is RIGHTHEREABOUTTOMANIFEST. It just veers off to the side like a dog that charges you then gets distracted at the last moment. To conquer it requires staying focused on the goal, rather than the emotions—firmly refocusing on the goal if necessary—and to recognize the emotions for what they are: the signal saying, hang on, it's coming. The manifestation is developing.
The energy of it starts small and rises to a deafening crescendo that peaks right before it manifests visibly.
That energy crescendo is what we sense, and IT is the cause of the feeling inside we identify falsely as discomfort.
It's not. If anything, it should excite us to feel this, once we recognize what it is. And if we recognize this, and ride it out even as every fiber of our being is screaming, PULL UP, PULL UP, stop the feeling from coming any closer... THEN we get over the hump and achieve our wildest dreams.
Let's watch and see what the next few days brings, shall we? ;-)
Because they allowed me to compile this little ten-minute movie with a soundtrack, using loops in GarageBand. I was just playing... but how totally fun is this?!? It's an outtake from one of my L2 rehearsal sessions, plus a bit of riding to prove I can canter on him. Enjoy.
OK. Before I go offending anyone with it, I feel the Chipped In Widgets to the right over there might need an explanation.
It's true. I'm begging for dollars. I am my own charity. But there is a reason for this, and it has less to do with drumming up donations than it does with activating the Law of Attraction.
My intent with this is to reach out to the Universe to let it know that I'm serious about my goals. I know I've wavered between YES Parelli Instructor NO Parelli Instructor, but after months of self-analysis, it's obvious that although I love playing with string, writing/recording music, and writing period, my deepest most profound passion, the one that makes me cry sometimes just thinking about it, is my horses. (Yarn is lovely, but it doesn't move me to tears.)
When I think about my life and about what I'll miss when I'm gone one day, horses pop up first. If there aren't horses in heaven, I am not going. They are the one thing that make my heart hurt. The thought of never feeling their soft breath on my skin; of never smelling that intoxicating blend of horse hair, manure, hay and sweat; of never hearing the gentle nicker when I enter the barn; of never experiencing the feeling of flying without wings as we canter down the trail through a wooded forest; to never again feel that mystical connection with this most magnificent and amazing creature as we play at Liberty in an open field, with my horse eagerly mirroring my every move and staying with me of his own free will when he could just as easily whirl away...
Excuse me for a moment...
OK. I had to collect myself.
What I'm doing is trying to generate energy by putting a blatant request out there—aimed at the Universe, not necessarily at people. I'm certainly asking for more than I'd need but they say to do that to ensure you get what you need. You, dear reader, don't have to participate unless you want to. My intent is not to milk the pockets of my readers; but to declare a VISIBLE intent that says, I AM DOING THIS: Universe, back me up on my goal.
It might generate some finances toward my dream; it might not. The funds might arrive in a way totally unrelated to the fundraising widgets. The point is to open myself up to the possibilities and get it OUT there.
And there's no way I'd know if it would work, unless I took the risk.
But on the off-chance that there are those who read this blog, are supportive of my dreams, understand what I've been going through and might have the means to assist, I've decided to put it there. It's for them, the Universe and myself.
Lest you think I'm one to sit back and live off of the generosity of others, let me remind you that I'm doing absolutely EVERYTHING to get myself back on track. Including starting an online yarn business, launching a personal fundraising effort, pursuing alternate routes to eliminating the two extra houses I got stuck with in this estate/death deal AND applying for jobs from Marketing Director to Kwik Stop Parking Lot Attendant. After that, it's all up to God.
This is my dream, and I am doing EVERYTHING in my power, offensive or not, to make it happen.
If my fundraising efforts offend you, please just ignore them, and come back for all the news that's fit to Knit. And to canter away with.
I can't let today go by without wishing my own happies to my cat, Zander, and my mare, Shaveya, as they were BOTH born on this day in 1998 and are BOTH turning 11 years old today.
I didn't plan that. It just happened. They're both bi-colored, also, rust and white.
Just think. Eleven years ago today, in locations very distant from each other, two new lives entered this world at the same time (ish), and both were intended to come to me. Weird.
I first saw Zander when he was just two days old at my friend's house—momcat was friendly, so I was able to pick up the kittens and hold them, and he fit perfectly into my hand. Zander rolled upside down as I held him, displaying his white belly. I petted it with one finger, he was so small! He wiggled and "swam" with his front feet, enjoying it. A few weeks later, he came home. Who knew he'd grow into such a ginormous thing! Top weight, 23 pounds, though he's slimmed down to a svelte and healthy 16 pounds.
Shaveya (shuh-VEY-yuh) came to me later, after Wildflower died in 2005. So she was already six years old. Of course it was the whinnying that got to me. She saw me, and whinnied. I'm a sucker.
Coming up this month are two more coincidental birthdays—Cheerios and Jake are within a day of each other, but different years. My Mother never got over the fact that she shared a birthday with them. Sorry, Mom!
Hi! Sorry bout that! I am still alive. October didn't give me much to post about. Now it's November. Good grief. So let's see, what went on in October?
Cheerios and I attended our second clinic of the year with the same instructor at a beautiful farm in Michigan. This was a solid L2 clinic and it was enlightening as always. On the first day, Cheerios very graciously pointed out all my "holes" (in my savvy and knowledge). On the second day, we filled in those holes and made wonderful progress. And, I cantered my horse "in public" for the first time in years! For the first time in a clinic, anyway. Jesse said we've made great strides since the last time he saw us. I love my horse.
I was fortunate enough to be offered a trailer ride up with one of the girls from my barn. She took her mare along. They went a few miles up the road to a cross-country jumping course and jumped while I did the clinic. It worked out well.
What else?
Let's see. The Mothership, which already needs a $300 wheel bearing job (it's going bad and it triggers the ABS system which is annoying and prevents the fancy braking system from kicking in, but I still have brakes) developed a new noise right before the clinic that could only be described as (when I turned the wheel) CGGUNNKKK! followed by squeakysqueakysqueaksqueak as I bounced down the road. Turned out to be another $300 repair job—dang front sway bar broke.
Well, I did my research and found me a new mechanic who's a little more affordable than my Dad's. No offense, Dad, but... he'd probably have found him eventually. This guy's only been in business officially for a few years but he has extensive knowledge. He did a good job. No more squeaky cgunk sound. The wheel bearings I'm waiting on a bit longer. The guy gave me the run down of what I'll need to maintain in the coming months and says for a 2001 Buick with less than 40,000 miles on it, it's in great shape. He called it a "cream puff"—said it's a dealer's dream, and I should get another 5 years out of it because it's old in age but young in use. That's good news. It'll see me through graduate school.
OH. Great news! Lot #3 IS SOLD! I didn't want to post before lest I jinx it, and after all the false alarms we've had this year, I'm sure you understand. We got a good offer on a Saturday, cash, and we took it. No negotiating. Then we held our breath until the 30th. Thursday, I drove down to the closing. Relief. That leaves Lot #1 with the house and my own house in the next city to be sold.
I also took a look at the house down there to see the fire damage firsthand. Well, the bad news is, the one wall that was affected is pretty scary and the poor house, with a huge blue tarp billowing in the breeze and all the windows boarded up, she looks sad, like a war victim. The good news is, 90% of the house is still as good as it was before all this, albeit a tad messy from all the firefighters tromping around in there, and the damage is totally fixable. And it didn't smell of smoke! Not at all! It only smelled like musty old house like it always has.
The guy who bought Lot #2 has been busy clearing out brush in preparation to build. He's a nice guy. So are the folks who bought Lot #3 and oddly enough, they're neighbors already but didn't realize they were buying next door to each other. They are all so welcoming to me, it really helps make the transition easier. That Lot #2 is initiating contact just to keep in touch and keep me updated means a lot to me. I allowed him to escort me around the lot and describe the "vision". His love of the land and his excitement about the house he and his new wife are building was so infectious.
I began to let go of the sadness and guilt I'd been feeling since I realized two years ago I'd have to sell the place. I'm not losing anything; in a way, we are blending our families together, with the common thread being the land that we love. The house there sheltered my family members for over 120 years. Now it is expanding to shelter two new families (with a third to come once Lot #1 sells). They're building dreams for their families and leaving a new legacy.
When I signed the contract to renew the listing for Lot #1 (which expired that day), for the first time, I did it with a smile on my face and happy feelings in my heart.
Now I just have a couple of little things to take care of with my other house now that I have the cash to do it (sister assumed we'd split it and I wholeheartedly agreed), then I can find a more aggressive realtor and get that thing GONE too. Or maybe I'll find a rental agent. Anybody have advice? Sell or rent?
I've made a few decisions about my future. We'll see how they pan out. When they do, I will let you know. In knitting news, I finished a dishcloth. Yes, an actual dishcloth. Not a Faux Dishcloth like some other people I know. ;-)
Hope you all are well. I'll try to remember I have a blog this month.
Humility is your strongest virtue. You are humble.
Humility is the defining characteristic of an unpretentious and modest person, someone who does not think that he or she is better or more important than others. And you? When you do the right thing, you're doing it for all the right reasons. All 7 virtues are a part of you, but your humility runs deepest.
It is likely you're a quiet type. But if not, then you just have dark, secret side that loves to give.
Humble famous people: JD Salinger, Isaac Newton, Harry Potter (pre-puberty)
Your raw relative scores follow. 0% is low, and 100% is perfect, nearly impossible. Note that I pitted the virtues against each other, so in some way these are relative scores. It's impossible to score high on all of them, and a low score on one is just relatively low compared to the other virtues.
Fascinating. I'm also surprised that the photo is of someone with a horse. Hmm.
You Are Fettuccine Alfredo
Compared to most people, you have rich and decadent tastes. If you can afford something, you'll go ahead and indulge yourself. You are a true foodie. No food is off the table for you. You're the type most likely to appreciate every aspect of a five star meal.
I wish my horse could take this next test. Interestingly enough, when I first started work at my old job, my manager had us all take a test to find out if we were Right- or Left-Brained. I'm glad to see that the results haven't changed.
Your result for The Right Brain vs Left Brain Test...
Center Brained!
Much like Goldilocks, you have gone the middle way.
Slightly less typical, you could consider yourself center-brained. Center-brained people are neither left nor right dominant, but rather exhibit equal qualities of both. If you are center-brained, you are likely both logical and creative, excel in the maths and sciences, and also art and philosophy.
As my former manager called it, "Whole Brain Goodness!" Pat Parelli would call that an Extreme Middle-of-the-Roadist. Speaking of Parelli...
I found my trailer ride, and Cheerios and I are on our way to the second clinic of the season in October! And we cantered yesterday! Big breakthrough. Huge. Psyched!
You are... a Mustang, the wild breed of horse that roamed America in the 1700's and 1800's. Like the movie Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron, you are an outdoorsy character, you'd rather go camping than attend the fanciest dance in town. Matter of fact, you're rarely in town. You'd rather gallop like the wind in some huge wild prairie, and you're free as a butterfly. (Okay, maybe that's a bad analogy...) You never have and never will have an owner... you're free! Your coat colour will most likely be: buckskin or dun. Cute. Fairly accurate, too.
Well, we've taken the first step on the Parelli Pathway to Professional. Cheerios and I participated in our first PNH clinic together last weekend. My fifth as a rider (I've audited near as many), his first. I knew going into it that it would either be an absolute disaster, or a major growth opportunity.
I'm relieved and pleased to say it was the latter. Our instructor was 2-Star Trainee Jesse Peters, who, ironically, I'd met in 2004 at my last clinic with Wildflower—we were both participants. Jesse was still playing with Level Three at the time (it was a L2/L3 clinic). Four years later, he's on the road to 3-star... I'm starting over with a "new" horse.
Hmm, how interesting. ;-)
It was fantastic. I got a lot of strategies to use with my Left-Brained Extrovert/Introvert bi-polar horse—he flips between Extrovert and Introvert on the fly and sometimes goes into Right-Brained Introvert territory... eh, all this is better posted on my little-publicized horse blog... the point is, yes, he's a bit of a challenge, but yes, he is manageable, and yes, I have the capability to do so armed with new strategies. We made amazing progress. I had some major breakthroughs.
Thing about Parelli is that it's more about the human than the horse, and the Remudas (debriefing sessions where we discuss the sessions) turn into group therapy sometimes because your horse IS your mirror, and often I'll learn something about ME through my interaction with my horse. Such as what I learned about fear.
My underlying fear issues have inhibited me from being as firm as I've needed to be sometimes, which meant I wasn't being very clear about what I was asking of my horse, which caused confusion for both of us, and lead to my horse becoming frustrated because if he didn't know what I was asking, he couldn't find the right answer... so he'd blow up and do the things that create the fear in the first place.
Can you say, vicious cycle?
So I learned to step up and BE firm (but fair and friendly, never mean or mad) when I needed to be, and whoa. I was afraid to be firm for fear he'd get mad.
The exact opposite happened. First, I'd teach, gently. But once there was evidence that he had an idea of what I wanted, I'd nag at Phase 1 but not be very insistent (leading to confusion, etc.). Well, we changed strategies. I'd ask at Phase 1 (very lightly) and give him the opportunity to work it out, but if he didn't respond, move through the Phases and get as firm as necessary. Yes, I DO want you to [insert response], thank you. Then relax. BIG difference. Suddenly my horse has figured out, "Oh, when you start to make that motion, you DO want X. GOT IT." Suddenly, he was very motivated, calmer, and his confidence came up, which brought out his curiosity.
It's fascinating to watch, at least to me and all the other PNH nuts. To some it's like watching paint dry, but whatev. ;-)
Then there was the insight about my parents and my life. Yes. The horse clinic brought up unresolved issues and insights. My parents were my greatest cheerleaders (and annoyances, simultaneously). They were the ones who knew when I needed advice, and when I just needed to hear someone tell me not to give up. Since they died, there hasn't been anyone around to step in at those moments and tell me Do Not Quit. As a result, I've felt very lost since they died. The sad thing is, I didn't even realize this until Day 2 of the clinic while reviewing the previous day's events over my morning coffee.
The trigger was this: I was having difficulty getting firm with Cheerios' butt while asking him to move Sideways—his butt kept getting in my face and I was worried if I asked it to move out of my space, he might kick. Jesse showed me that wouldn't happen. It's about being the leader. He said I need to be persistent and stay with it until I get the response I'm asking for. He looked me in the eye and said to me, "Promise me this—do... not...—" and waited for me to fill it in...
"Quit?" I asked.
Yes. Do Not EVER Quit.
Really, it's like the Karate Kid.
So I'm mulling this over the next morning, and it hits me. One, this is how I've been living my life since they died—hitting roadblocks, not looking for solutions, just giving up or backing down. Quitting. Too easily. Two, the two people in my life who always told me not to quit were gone, and I really needed to hear someone tell me not to quit, but I had no idea how badly I needed to hear it until Jesse said it.
When I went to relay this during Remuda, I lost it. Choked on the "two people" part and sobbed my way through the rest. God Bless Jesse and the other gals—they all got it. That's the thing about Parelli people—they've all had these moments (the men as well as the women). There's an insider joke about how Parelli (like the rock band KISS) has a ton of logo'd items for sale, they should sell logo kleen*x because God knows we students go through it.
It was a big weekend.
No truck just yet. The estate... *sigh*. We went yet another round with the house sale, but THIS TIME, the contract is really, truly, finally done—I think—but it kept pushing the closing date further into the future. They almost had it moved to June but I veto'd that. I said "no way. It closes by the end of May or no go." May 31st. Hey, isn't that 1) a holiday weekend and 2) a Saturday? Oh, well. On or before.
Might not need one as readily, anyway. The barn manager at my current barn trailered us last time and as long as it isn't too far and doesn't conflict with horse shows, she'll do it if I buy the gas. Jesse's coming back to the area twice more this summer, and the barn manager at the hosting barn and I clicked and she offered to come get us if need be. So that's two possible rides. Do I need to buy a gas-guzzling monstrosity and a tagalong trailer? Maybe... maybe not.
Anyway, step one. I think we'll actually pass Level 2 (PDF file) this summer. (Level 3 [PDF] will be the fun one!)
I'm also proud to say I cleaned eight filthy stalls in record time with far less muscular acheage than before, and I seem to have misplaced five pounds.
Oh—and as for that knitting thing, uh, well, I managed to mis-knit two rows on my CPH while philosophizing with B the other night and have to rip back and figure out just where the heck to put my marker so when I don't knit on it for a month or two I'll remember where the cabling row actually IS.
Good news, my ovary appears to be intact and the bruise is about gone. I've never had a bruise that left behind a big lump, though—my ovary, perhaps?
I've been under the weather this weekend—nothing major, just a scratchy sore throat and a bit more urge to sleep than usual. So I rested. If "resting" can be defined as sitting at the computer researching towing vehicles on Edmunds.com, CarsDirect.com and AutoTrader.com.
Yes, that's right, I'm car shopping. Er, TRUCK shopping.
Yes, I know I might sound a bit wishy-washy... because I've been talking about music for so long that it might come as a surprise to know that I've made a different decision about my career options. Don't get me wrong—I still enjoy composing music for myself, but... when I think about hitting the road with a bunch of guys (or solo), playing in bars, and the whole industry thing, I get SO tired. What a difference from 20 years ago—just seeing a tour bus or smelling bus exhaust got me all hot n' bothered because it represented ROCK N ROLL to me. I don't have the travelin' jones anymore.
But when the sun sets on a warm spring day, or even a cold fall day, and the horses are safely brought in from the pasture, everyone's tucked into their grain, and I've finished my barn chores for the day, I'm a bit sad to leave. If the day included horseplay, or better yet, some riding, my reluctance to return to "civilization" is even greater. The smell of the barn is intoxicating to me. Communicating with horses is the most amazing thing I've ever learned how to do.
I know it's a long shot. I know it'll take a big chunk of cash and time to get there. I know there's a chance I might not have what it takes to do this. But I've got to do it.
There's no reason I can't keep up with the music as well; technology and online sales make all kinds of things possible. I just have no interest in being a "rock star" anymore.
I'd rather be a Horse Developer than an Instructor (of people) but they allow people to do both, and Instructing is a bit more lucrative than teaching horses.
See, I've been listening to The Clearing Audio every night for a month now—it has affirmations intended to clear your limiting beliefs and let me tell you, IT WORKS. I'm feeling much more peaceful, motivated, and alive than I ever have. (Faith has something to do with that, too, I'm sure). One of the affirmations Joe Vitale says is this:
"Don't ask yourself what the World needs—ask yourself what makes YOU come alive, and then go do that—because what the World needs is people who have come alive."
Well. I really enjoy music, knitting, weaving, spinning, sewing, watching TV, reading, writing, blogging, and having dinner with friends.
But what REALLY makes me come alive is being with horses. Playing with them. Riding them. Communicating with them. Understanding them. THAT is what makes me come alive. I am a different person when I'm with the horses. Even more "present" than I ever was on stage.
Besides, the music career I once had prepared me for this. Being a PNH Professional means being comfortable as the one in the spotlight, whether teaching or as a member of the Savvy Team on the tour events. (Yes, there is still a touring possibility in there.) There are a lot of performance elements to this. Quite often, Pat Parelli's students go on the road and, for lack of a better word, "perform" with their horses in front of large audiences to music. They teach good-sized classes (6-20). I needed those skills.
As for the music, if I were lucky enough to be selected for a tour, I believe I can choose my own music. They do encourage original artists—there are about three or four who are students and musicians that Pat & Linda have endorsed because they write horse-related songs—Mary Ann Kennedy, Katie Drake, to name a couple. I'm sure they'd be fine if I wrote my OWN music to perform to, instrumental or otherwise. I write horse songs.
But mostly, it's about understanding the horse, and helping horses solve their people problems. It's revolutionizing the horse industry. I love being a part of it.
So I'm on the path. The path to Parelli 3-star Instructor is as follows:
Progress through the three home-study levels (with excellence if you can)
Assess and officially pass all three
Do the six-week Intensive (Liberty & Horse Behavior, Fluidity 1 & 2 Riding) at the Parelli Center
Get accepted into the Professionals Program
From there, I can go the Standard route:
Do 14 weeks at the Parelli Center—4-week boot camp and 10 weeks of education
Become a 1-Star trainee
Spend the next year practicing (no pay—meaning, in addition to a j-o-b)
Do 10 weeks of education
Become a 2-Star trainee
Spend the next year doing small clinics (up to 6 students) teaching L1 & L2/assessing L1 (for pay)
Do 10 weeks of education
Become a 3-Star Instructor (I have three years to get there once I'm a 1-Star)
Spend the next however many years doing standard-sized clinics (up to 10 students), teaching L1 - L3/assessing L1 & L2 (actually employed now), teaching at the Parelli Centers
If I'm really motivated, I might move up to 4-Star—only the most beloved instructors get there, and they have to have been a full-time 3-Star for six years. Four Star Instructors teach/assess all three levels plus have some administrative duties
If I am REALLY LUCKY, I might be invited to be a 5-Star Instructor. But there are only FIVE of those in the WORLD. One has to be a 4-Star for eight years before even being considered. (This is considered "dreaming", LOL!)
Or, if invited, the Accelerated route, which is teaching and studying for three years straight on the faculty at the Parelli Centers.
To get and maintain Star Ratings, I'll have to do a lot of stuff: teaching, developing horses, taking courses myself, attending every yearly Savvy Conference in Colorado, being at the tour events, studying business and personal development (like the LOA!) and so on. It's HUGE. It's not easy. It's an enormous commitment. It's scary as hell. My plan includes getting a 14-month MBA (optional) because it could give me the edge over candidates without one.
Right now, I'm Official L1 (note that's LEVEL one, which is different from 1-STAR), studying L2, with a L1 Advancing horse. My plan is to spend this summer on L2, pass it, and get into L3 before the weather changes. This means attending clinics. Then go to Ocala for the six weeks next spring with my horse. Apply to grad school (if it still feels like a necessary option)—starts in June 2009, ends in August 2010. Work on L3 meanwhile. Graduate, then pass L3. Apply to the program for 2011.
Wow. I just realized... if I get in the program in 2011, then it's three years to 3-Star, plus six years to 4-Star, plus eight years to 5-Star, means... IF I made it that far... I would reach 5-Star status in 2027. At the age of 64.
Holy Moses.
Of course, I'd be happy just to reach 3-Star Instructor... and 3- or 4-Star in the Horse Development Modules.
So anyway, the truck.
It is possible to play in your own backyard and successfully pass the levels. But it helps considerably if one attends and rides in PNH clinics where an Instructor with a keen eye can observe you and point out what you can do better and help with issues. Cheerios and I have a few issues. So I want to attend clinics. We're signed up for one next month, around the corner from our old barn. The current barn manager is trailering him for me. But I can't ask her to trailer me all summer—she has horse shows of her own to do. So I need a rig of my own. I already "have" the trailer—the barn manager is selling her smallest one and I claimed it, just waiting for the estate to close to pay her. (She's holding it for me. She knows I'm good for it.)
Now all I need is the truck to pull it. The Buick Regal LS, aka the Mothership, is probably going to be traded in. I'm going used. I've looked at new, but after doing my research, leasing is out of the question (for me); buying new and financing is too scary when I have so many changes happening and not a lot of "time" for jobs in between career preparation; I probably could drop $30k on a new one paid in full and drive it off the lot, but... uh, that might impinge on my ability to move forward with my other plans (barring a winning lottery ticket), so... used it is. It'll be a trade-in plus cash and drive it off the lot paid for deal.
Surprisingly, there ARE a lot of nice trucks out there for reasonable prices. I've test-driven a bunch. Though I went into it a Dodge Ram fan, I've driven more F-150s. That's either a good sign, because they were leases or trade-ins on new (loyalty), or a bad sign (people getting rid of their Fords but keeping their Dodges). I'm not in love with any of them—one F-150 is pretty much the same as any other but for year and color. I really like that Pueblo Gold champagne color but the used ones tend toward white, burgundy or green. I can deal. If this PNH thing takes off, in a few years I'll upgrade to a 3/4 ton to pull a gooseneck trailer and maybe then I can pick a color.
My friend Karen (Knoobie Knitter) adopted an adorable doggie named Vinnie.
He wasn't home long before he underwent a big health crisis. He's OK, thankfully—story is here—but despite help from the pet agency from which he was adopted, the vet bills are huge. Karen is having a raffle to help raise money—prizes include Wollmeise, Yarntini, and Yarn Pirate Yarn!
GO DONATE NOW!
Brief update on the Lot Sales: Lot #2 is sold (that was the first one). Lot #1 is pending. We countered. They countered. We... negotiated an option. It's not really a counter to their counter. Their contract asked for an additional 3% (on top of 6% agent commissions). Our lawyer had asked me why we hadn't negotiated that out? Well, uh... because when I asked the realtor about it they said sometimes the banks won't lend the money without it.
Um, OK. So we left it in the first time. This time, I asked if we could leave it out. So the options are, if we leave the 3% in, then we need to ask a slightly higher final price to cover it. If we can eliminate it, then we'll accept their counter as is.
The odd thing is, when I did the math, we actually stand to make more money if we take out the 3% and accept their counter. It's weird.
The best news is that because two of the three lots are for all intents and purposes sold and because it gives us enough financial leeway to satisfy the terms of the Will and "equalize" distribution against the house I received, we can CLOSE the estate upon completing the second sale! The lawyer agreed—AGREED—with me that the third lot is a bonus lot and we can just deed it out to the two of us since we seem to be able to agree on property sales and since it's a 50-50 split.
I'm so glad it's about over.
In final news, I'm taking my horse to his very first PNH clinic next month. It's my first in four years, and my first with a different horse. SO excited!
Knitting Content I finished the fourth dishcloth. You didn't even know I was knitting dishcloths, didja? Well, I am. I got hooked on the Ballband pattern—oh wait, that makes five, sorry, Xmas gifted—then the Mason Dixon ones, the mitered and the ninepatch (too tired to link, just google it) and it was a great excuse to learn a new technique, do some "mindless" knitting (sorta but not really) and use up all that Peaches & Cream. Where on EARTH—no, HOW on Earth—did I come to have so much of that stuff?
Well, anyway. Worked on that at Insanknitty last night. YES I finally made it and glad I did, too, because Karen, SarahLouandBecky were there! OtherKaren was noticeably absent. A good time was had by all, and I pet some of the softest yarn ever (whose name I've purposely blanked out on so as to avoid the temptation).
I've also hesitantly begun on the first Caitlin, using stash Ack (Caron Simply Soft, yes, I know) and so far so good. The only thing is, it's worsted and the pattern calls for Gems Sport. Then again, perhaps it will save me in the end, because it's likely to come out larger than the size I'm doing, meaning the grandniece can have room to grow into it.
In addition, I've decided that the reason I've put off formally starting my CPH (yes, I am the Admin for the KAL, why do you ask?) is because I find the yarn I chose to be quite daunting since it is a self-patterning (I think) brown and teal yarn (Di.Ve Autunno):
I want the striping to not be so striped (like on the right) and be more of a graduated tone (like on the left) and couldn't figure out how to do it and match with the fronts...
So I'm putting off doing a sweater in the Di.Ve Autunno for now. Instead, I'm going to do it in the pretty Old Sage Lamb's Pride Single Ply Worsted that has been sitting in my stash for (I shit you not) 15 years (am I really *that* old?). I'd taken a beginning knitting class, and felt confident enough to try my first sweater. Bought the yarn, pattern, started it, got about six inches into the back... and there it sat.
The problem? The pattern I'd chosen, which looked terrifying to me at first because it involved reading a *gasp* chart, became yawningly boring after the first repeat because it was nothing but knits and purls. It's a nice pattern, really—stockinette background broken up by an all-over texture of a couple rows of maybe 12 purls (garter rows), kind of a waffle effect. I just couldn't stand to knit it. I'm much happier doing finger gymnastics like slip stitches and cables in between miles of stockinette.
But first, I had to make sure I'd have enough yarn. Nine skeins? Not likely. While at Yarn Haven last night, I checked the stash of Lamb's Pride and can you believe it? Not only do they have the color, but there is no need for dyelot because the scrap I brought matched the current Old Sage PERFECTLY. I figure I'll start the sweater, see how far a skein goes, and buy more in a few weeks.
Other Stuff Today was taken over by horses—time for their feetie trims. I wish it had been as warm as it was yesterday, but I'm not complaining. It was still much nicer than the typical January trim (usually I freeze to death). The horses look great, all fuzzy and whiskery. It occurred to me that Cheerios is 11 now and Shaveya is 10. I've been a horse owner for seven years come February. Wow.
The best news is, Shaveya is doing so well that she is officially ready to be ridden again. Granted, we'll start off slowly—maybe 10 or 15 minutes at a walk only—but as long as she's fine the next day after that, she's good to go. Of course, I won't be hopping on right away—we need to get our relationship up to par first. I've been concentrating on Cheerios while she healed. Now, I have TWO horses to play with, and they have opposite personalities. This should be a fun year!
In Manifestation News, I decided to try an experiment. I conjured up the image of something to see how long it takes to manifest into my life. I'm talking something small and simple. I decided I want to manifest (not to have, just to see) a bright pink VW Bug with a yellow 70's daisy (a big honkin' flower) on the "hood" (I know, the trunk is in front in those things). It doesn't have to be an actual automobile. It can be a toy, an image in advertising, on a t-shirt, whatever, even a cartoon, as long as it is a bright pink VW Bug car bearing a big honkin' yellow daisy flower on the, er, hood.
I focused on my image over breakfast.
On the drive to the barn, I passed...
A bright shiny RED VW bug.
On the way in, I passed...
Another bright shiny RED VW bug.
I rounded a corner for home, and passed...
A YELLOW VW bug.
In town running errands, I spied a second yellow bug, but this one had a ragtop.
THEN I saw a SILVER VW bug.
But no bright pink with yellow daisy yet.
YET.
My initial reaction: Dangit! That one's red! It's supposed to be pink! What am I doing wrong?
My second reaction: Well, wait a minute. I did manifest a VW Bug. And pink is the dilution of red. So at least I'm aligned with VW Bug energy. So... does this mean it's a sign I'm on the right track?
My third reaction: Maybe this is why things don't seem to manifest quite right in my life just yet. Something is blocking me from manifesting it properly. I can manifest "VW Bug", I can even manifest exactly the color of yellow paint the flower should be, and pink is close to red, but... I have yet to manifest "pink" "yellow" "VW Bug" AND "flower" all at once.
Things that make you go Hmmmmmmmm.
I'll let you know when I see my bug.
******UPDATED TO ADD****** Is it cheating that I broke down and searched the Interwebs? Or...
...or, is it a lesson? I put it out there, then sort of sat back and waited for it to appear. Kept my awareness up, but wasn't searching obsessively for pink daisy-covered Bugs. I got Bugs, close, but no cigar.
Then I got impatient, and decided to search. I found several examples close enough to pass for my vision. The toy/bank in the second and third photo is what I envisioned, except swap the colors in the daisy.
What is the lesson? (It's a big one.)
In the first instance, I was hoping to see one. But not expecting.
In the second instance, I went out looking for it with great determination, I was Googling/searching, so I expected to find some results pretty similar to what I was looking for.
I knew that there had to be at least one pink VW bug bearing a yellow and white daisy on the "hood" somewhere in this big old world and that someone had to have photographed it and posted it online. Might take some digging, but I knew I'd turn up something eventually IF I searched the right terms. My first search was just for the bug. When I added "image", I narrowed it down and got better results. But mostly...
I realize that MY ATTITUDE was different. Hoping didn't produce the right results. Expecting, then going out and consciously and intentionally looking for it, brought me within 99%.
I must go watch Project Runway and dwell on this lesson for a bit because I know that if I can figure out how to translate it into my real life, rather than Google searches, I can start to manifest things more easily.
That is the amount, come first of the year, that I may be expected to pay in horse boarding fees if I have three horses AND if the barn manager does indeed raise the board by $100 by then. She called with information about Bella for me, and let me know that due to increased costs for hay and shavings (bedding), she may be raising the board by $50-100 in January.
Since my purple bracelet has yet to arrive and I'm under no obligation to withhold my complaining, I'm free to bitch.
I like this barn. I really do. I like the barn manager couple. I like that their philosophies resonate with mine. I like how they take care of my horses. My horses are happier and healthier than they were at the other place.
However. My old barn charged $225/horse/month for full care with a round pen, outdoor riding arena, and instant access to 18 miles of wooded bridle trails.
My current barn charges $200/horse/month for full care. When I arrived, there were only two pastures, no round pen, no place to ride. Now they've added a round pen and fenced off the back lot, so the two small pastures are suitable riding areas. But there is nowhere else to ride.
If a barn in this area is to justify $300/month per horse, then they need to have an indoor arena or trail access and a much nicer stable (not a barn) than either place has/had. For $300, I could board at a show barn with a heated indoor arena. Granted, they rarely turn out horses onto grass, they balk at Parelli, and I'd probably clash in philosophies, but really. That's a bit rich for my blood. If it goes up to $250, I can swing it for awhile. But if it goes up more than that, rather than increasing, I'll likely be culling my herd down to just one horse (Cheerios) and praying I can find Shaveya a better home. God, I just HATE to do that.
My horses basically exist 24/7 on pasture, only come in during extreme seasons (heat on summer days, cold on winter nights), to eat, or in inclement weather, and one of them isn't even being "used" (ridden, shown, etc). She's special needs, requires extra supplements. All they need is a pasture to live in and an enclosure of some sort for protection. They don't even really need stalls. Partitions to separate them when eating, maybe. But not full-on stalls.
For $900/month, I could own my own property and take care of them myself. (OK maybe a little more, but we're talking house, barn, horse food, etc.).
Maybe that's what the Universe is trying to tell me. Oy. But I'm not ready. I want to do that test-it-out thing first, where I go visit Nashville and Austin and Vermont and any other place that strikes my fancy, live there for a few weeks each and see how it works for me. I can't just go out and buy a place yet.
Although... if I can swing the board for a little while, I could size up the locations and THEN buy a place. Hmmm.
Jus when you think you have it all worked out, another wrench is tossed into the toolbox.
Before I get into today's topic, I want to clarify the definition of a word from my last post. "Horselet". A horselet is my oddball word for a baby horse. It's not an actual equine term so if you were thinking next time I am amongst the People of the Horse, I will show my knowledge by using the word "horselet" properly in a sentence... don't. ;-) I apologize for any confusion this may have caused. Remember, I am weird that way.
And yes, I am seriously SERIOUSLY considering the purchase of Equus Numero Tres, thus creating my own holy trinity of equinity.
Oh, my. I guess I've been listening to Pat Parelli way too much lately, he of the coinage of corny phrases (that you laugh at the first time you hear them, then find they stick in your brain and pop up exactly when you need them to).
Also, let us send our condolences to my right knee, which suffered the tragic shattering of cartilege during the Fall on the Tile Floor just two years ago today. Right Knee is honoring the loss by aching quietly.
Anyway. Onwards.
Whew. Today I am just feeling wiped out beyond belief and I don't know why. My mood is pretty good. It's physical. I forced myself to get up earlier than usual because I am tired of seeing only a few hours of daylight. But I am just not feeling good if that makes sense. It feels like I slept with a cat sitting on my chest all night (despite the knowledge that all five cats were safely sequestered in their room on the other side of the house), and I seem to have developed a slight cough (or redeveloped it, as the case may be).
Now, this could be due to the face-full of year-old stagnant cat litter dust that I got Tuesday afternoon when I was attempting to rip out the 70s blue shag rug in what was the Cat Room in my old house (next time I'll wear a mask), or it could be allergies (I need to vacuum this house, too), or it could be from burying my face in horse neck Wednesday for a long deep inhale, or it could be I've been exposed to The Nasty Cold that everyone I know seems to have had (except me, but I claimed mine earlier in the season and crossed fingers for immunity from this challenge).
Or it could be my sports bra is too tight (wore it to the barn), or maybe I need to put on a bra (are they sagging so far as to cause discomfort?), or sore muscles from yesterday's trip to Walmanure where my determination to avoid getting an actual cart may have lead to muscular downfall—because I was only there for a small bag of cat food, a bottle of nail polish in black or dark berry to match my hair (can't believe I used up all my black polish!), a box of tea bags and cash back so I just needed a basket, right?
Well my brand of cat food was on sale, so I got two bags, which was just heavy enough to make me question my decision but I soldiered on because I was a tea bag box away from leaving anyway... even though every ten feet I encountered an abandoned, empty cart (highly unusual). Like a sign. A big, neon sign saying "TAKE THE CART, DAMMIT! Quit being such a 'man' about it!"
I don't know. All I know is, the damned invisible cat is still sitting on my chest, I'm still coughing, I have zero energy for anything requiring enthusiasm (such as house cleaning) or being upright (well, upright is all right as long as it doesn't require much movement), and it's pissing me off. Because I have STUFF to do. And feeling this way, the STUFF is not getting DONE. That makes me feel all sorts of guilty and worthless and lazy (even though I'm not). I can hear my bitchier relative saying "Tired?!? Why should YOU be tired? You don't DO anything!!!" (Note to bitchy relative in my brain: First of all, get the hell out of my brain; secondly, eff the aitch off.)
I wallowed in exhausted self-pity for a moment, wondering why the plans I hatch at 3:30 AM seem so exciting and sound but in the light of day seem impossible (when I wake up this worn out). Then I thought, just because I'm feeling low-energy today doesn't mean I can't make progress toward my goals. So I sat down and came up with this list.
What I can do to further my music/PNH goals
WHEN I'M FEELING HIGH-ENERGY, I CAN:
spend the afternoon playing with and/or riding my horses—one, two or three, depending on my energy level
groom the horses vigorously, give them a bath, practice feet trimming
practice vocalizing for a good hour
record for hours (all parts)
jam/exercise my bass and guitar playing skills
workout at the gym
go see bands
try out for bands
play with a band
perform live
clean the house
organize stuff
run errands
socialize/network
WHEN I'M FEELING LOW-ENERGY, I CAN:
sit at the computer and learn Cubase (recording software)
record lightly (a slow bass part, something simple)
craft drum tracks in MIDI
tweak mixes
read music books (recording, MIDI, mixing, business, theory)
read/study my Law of Attraction/positive thinking stuff
listen to LoA podcasts
visit the barn just to observe the horses naturally, play the Quiet Time game, or if feeling slightly energetic, groom them gently
watch Parelli DVDs (Lord knows, I have hundreds on backlog to watch)
think about goals/plans
meditate in candlelight to recharge
listen to and study the musical structures and mixing techniques of songs/bands I really like
rest (because sometimes you just need to rest)
take this opportunity to practice the fine art of NOT feeling guilty about resting, i.e. the art of releasing the need to GOGOGO all the time, releasing the need—rather, the limiting belief—that I need to be BUSY in order to feel/be "productive" or "worthwhile" or "using my time wisely"
As you can see, my MIND is quite energetic today but my body is not. As it appears to be precipitating in some manner, outside activities are out of the question, so I think I'll finish up here and go watch some Parelli DVDs. Have a good one.
Who says I have to CHOOSE between a career in music versus a career as a Parelli Instructor?
Right now, I have no idea which one of them has the better chance of being successful. So why not just go for both of them? Balance my time between horse play and music play. Take a 60-hour work week, split it in half... 30 per career.
As for investments (financial) necessary to further each career, they're incremental and flexible. One clinic at a time. One piece of music gear at a time. Recording can be done in chunks. It's not like I have to have all the necessary fundage available from the git-go (even when I finally have the fundage, I can pay it out in portions). Both are step-by-step processes.
Meaning, I can promote one or the other more when need be, or drop out entirely when the other takes off. I can pause to work for awhile without interrupting much, then free myself up to focus on one or both of the careers.
I can spend a few weeks straight focusing on recording. Then a few weeks at the Parelli Center. I can work a temporary short-term job to build up the survival coffers, and attend weekend clinics with my horse. These are sort of like "how" statements, which I'm supposed to leave to the Universe's discretion; but they are also "what can I do to progress" statements.
I can pause along the way and reassess each career. Have I achieved my goals with music? Have I passed the next PNH level? I can take a personal litmus test: I'm this far along in this career... does it still resonate or has the other one taken priorty?
I can do this.
I can have my horses and my music, too.
I just solved the biggest issue I have had in my life: what career to pursue.
Because as we all know, who we are in this life seems to be defined largely by what we do. That has been the most difficult question for me to answer. I've been so conflicted, confused, and torn between my two greatest passions: horses, and music. Music came first—or did it? Maybe it only came first by default (meaning, we lived in the suburbs and guitar lessons were more accessible and affordable than riding lessons), because I've been a horse nut for as long as I can remember, too.
From past experience, more in the Parelli realm than the music realm, I know that the Law of Attraction works GREAT. It always worked for me with horsemanship. I've told the story a thousand times about finding Wildflower and the first clinic. That was definite LoA at work. I also told the story of my last clinic with Wildflower, how I had no idea where the fundage for the clinic would come from, but I signed up anyway, had faith that the money would come, and then this big company hired me out of the blue for a 2.5-week gig that paid for the clinic and then some. (I wasn't even looking for the job; a former classmate remembered I was a designer and called me up when they needed emergency help.)
Nashville is halfway between here and Parelli land. It's closer. That's good. Living there would help. There is a five-star instructor based there with whom I have studied (five-star is the highest level instructor and there are only a handful). It makes sense that if one wants a job in the music industry, one should relocate to where the industry is.
I smell possibilities.
I have faith. When I decided there's no reason why I can't do both and see which one flies first, this wave came over me. Relief. Excitement. Rightness. Like the Universe was saying FINALLY!!! Geez, what took ya? The Universe will provide the ways and means. All I gotta do is provide the "what".
Good feeling about this.
So. There you have it. I'm pursuing two careers.
I think I'm buying a horselet, too.
I don't know how I'm going to make all of this happen, but... I don't have to. I just have to know that it WILL happen.
Why visiting the barn can sometimes not be such a great idea and why I may soon be in so much trouble with myself... (explanation follows)
This is Bella.
Bella is a yearling.
Bella is a registered Paint mare with two blue eyes (and black eyeliner and ultra-mod white eyelashes).
Bella is visiting the barn for a couple of weeks while the barn manager teaches her about respect and manners, since apparently she has none (according to her owners). (As we all know by now, being of the Parelli Persuasion, my initial off-the-cuff remark to the barn manager was something to the effect of "well then it's the owners that need to be here..." because it's not the horse's fault, it's that the owners, however well-intentioned, don't know how to ask for the horse's respect. I know I'm at the right barn, because the BM chuckled in agreement.)
Bella was occupying the round pen. (Flashbacks to the old barn: every time I made up my mind to play with my horses, there would be a new horse being "quarantined" in the round pen.) BM explained the training situation (and said it's no trouble to put her in a stall if I want to use the pen). Then BM suggested that I have a go at her. Play with her. See what I can get out of her.
Well, OK. If you insist. LOL!
This was a new situation for me because babies don't know what older horses should know, so the approach is different. It was important for me to bond quickly and establish trust rather than get really firm—that's just too scary for a baby horse. So I had to employ a much softer, gentler approach but still not let her get away with stuff. No nipping. However, no smacking if she nipped because that's her way of testing out the world—there are kinder ways of dissuading her from nipping at me. She wasn't very mouthy with people but she chawed on the lead rope quite a bit. That's OK for her to do. Then she knows it won't hurt her and it keeps her curiosity intact.
That's the biggest challenge—how to be firm enough, yet gentle enough, and teach her without knocking the curiosity out of her. She's a very curious little mare, and that's GOOD. We LIKE that. She's smart. She's inquisitive. She wants to explore and taste the whole world. She just needs to understand that the two-leggeds are in charge, have the plan and that she needs to follow and trust the leader.
It was fascinating. Much different from playing with Cheerios, my obstinate 10-year-old gelding. But what was more fascinating was what happened later when I played with Cheerios. I changed my approach with him without thinking about it, because I was still thinking about Bella, and to my utter amazement, I realized I've been much too firm with him (even though I thought I was being too soft). I found out he WILL respond to the slightest suggestion IF I am POLITE. I didn't realize until today how impolite I tended to be with him. Impatient. Kind of snotty, like "you should know this, now do it".
When I treated him more like the baby, I got responses! I mounted Cheerios bareback at the end of my session with him and I barely had to ask him to walk, to stop, to please go left please go right. It was the lightest he's ever been. There was a LOT of apologizing on my part to him for yanking on him in earlier sessions and expecting him to not respond.
Anyway. Back to Bella.
Bella has been with her current owners for about a year. Bella was purchased from a sale (auction? dunno). Bella's owners have other horses. Bella's owners adore her, but. Bella's owners want an older horse for their daughter. Bella is far too young to be ridden (not until she's at least four).
Bella is for sale, priced at $1,000.
I made four five huge mistakes today:
I went to the barn to play with horses because it was 60 and sunny
I played with Bella and we bonded
I fell in love with Bella
I asked the BM if they'd maybe take $800 for her
The BM called later. They said if Bella was going to a really good home and would be boarded out there, then yes, they'd take $800.
Oh, crap.
Thankfully, the BM also told Bella's people that I was just thinking about it. So I haven't bought her.
Yet.
Yeah.
We know better, don't we?
Oh. What was the fifth mistake, you ask?
I asked the Universe/God, "Why have I been so unmotivated lately when it comes to my horses and horsemanship, and could You PLEASE give me a reason to get motivated again?"
Is there anything more motivating than a fresh, unspoiled (and absolutely GORGEOUS to whom cell phone photos in poor light do no justice) baby horse and the opportunity to start her off right? A baby horse that within minutes had decided I am THE COOLEST thing since sliced grain? Who tipped her head toward me and looked at me with those wide blue eyes, muzzle on my belly, when I asked her if she wanted to be the foundation of my Paint Horse Empire? (Of course, this is how I wound up with Cheerios. He stuck his nose in my belly and blew, and the guy said "by the way he's for sale".)
Blue eyes. What IS it with me and blue eyes? Aren't horses "supposed" to have big brown eyes? If I wind up with her, that will be five out of six eyes blue and only one brown in my mini-herd. And two Tobiano Paint Mares. This little girl, she's like my first three horses (Cheerios, Shaveya and the late great bay mare Wildflower) all rolled into one.
$800!
I won't tell you what I paid for Cheerios as a four-year-old, and he's GELDED. As in no babies ever. And I thought I got him cheap. Of course, there would be vet checks and the farrier has to look at her feet, and I need to research her bloodlines... so it may not fly. Oh yeah, and there's the additional board fees. But I have set a deadline to decide. Three days. By Saturday night, I'll know if it'll fly or not.
Either this is my next acquisition, or it was just a kick-ass motivator to remind me of why I got into Parelli in the first place.
Yeah, I still wanna be a musician. Why, can't I be both?
The Big Secret So far, things are moving along nicely. There are good reports arriving from points West. The timetable appears to have moved up by a couple of weeks—fingers crossed. It will be great.
Knitting I know I haven't posted many photos here lately (of yarn, anyway). As a reward, I'll post some of my latest Stash Acquisitions, just for sticking it out this long. ;-) I have completed all 16 of my TKGA Masters Level One swatches. They just need washed, blocked, woven in ends, labelled, and packaged up. I'm in the middle of the hat. Yes, it's a low-key knit. But that's OK, as my mind is still a ball of mush and thinking (ie doing cables) is difficult for me right now. If I keep at it, I'll make my goal and have this out the door before the end of the month.
I'm also still working on the Waving Lace Socks and have added the Spiralling Sock from one of my KALs to the list. Too many socks. Not enough time!
Music Hurrah for me, I've written a song. I'm 95% certain the latest edition of the lyrics is the final cut; but that could change depending on what my muse decides. (My muse being that great creative force in the sky.) Why this is monumental is because I haven't written a song since my parents became ill, let alone pick up my guitar. But I got all the recording gear set up, and Ron had emailed me some music needing lyrics, and one of them really struck a chord with me (no pun intended). I work in spurts. I listen, I hum along, I see where the melody wants to go. Then I mumble any snippets of words that come to mind. When it stops freeflowing, I stop, put it away, and let it marinate. I've been humming this song to myself for a week straight, watching it write itself in my head. I'm pretty satisfied with the latest version of the lyrics, but I'm not sure I've quite said what I want to say exactly how I want to say it.
Still, it feels good to be back in the swing of it again.
Horses Do I have horses? I seem to have forgotten again.
Cats All fine and furry as usual.
Estate BS Still BS. But we're close to finishing up. Good, because I'm so tired of it. I want it wrapped up and the spoils dispersed equitably and ASAP. I've been living under the black cloud of this stuff for a full year now, following almost a full year of watching the parents go downhill. It's time for a positive change. It's time to get out from under the cloud, back into the sunshine, and live again. My horoscope swears that as of or around September 28th, I'll enter a fantastic period that'll last through May 9th where basically everything I ever wanted will arrive. Buh-RING IT AW-won!
Lottery Hopefully I have the winning ticket tonight. We'll see.
That's all, folks.
Oh, yeah, pictures.
Dalegarn Tiur for the Winter Garden Socks (from Knit Socks!)
Sleeping Dragon Sock Yarn in Roses & Chocolate
Twisted Fiber Arts Arial Sock Yarn in Regiment
Hopefully these are visible and clickable. First time using Flickr to post (usually I use PhotoBucket). This is just a taste of what I snagged at Threadbear two weekends ago. Yuuuuumy. Sock yarn. *sluuuuurrrrp*
