Recently, we had a snow storm in Vermont. No, not that one, the one before that. I decided to work just one more horse because the snow didn't seem to be building up *that* fast when I turned out my big guy. On my way back into the barn, I pause for a minute, stood still, and drew in the cool air. For a minute all I heard was the pat of flakes, the crunch of it under hooves, and the faint babble of the creak running on the far side of the barn. Exhale.
This is something I have been finding myself doing more lately, pausing to take in where I am. When I worked for Sue, I used to do this- pause a second to look at Mount Ascutney. There was one tree, maybe midway up, that turned a brilliant yellow. Or I'd watch the morning mist rise feeding breakfast, enjoying the quiet alone with the horses. These are the moments we rush through to get to the next thing and the next.... Until?
Until what?
New Years inspires a lot of reflection. But, in reality, life might be better lived if shorter, more frequent moments of reflection took place. 2013 was a whirl wind for me: got a (more than) full time teaching job (well, that was fall of 2012); bought a house in January; got married in July; and finished a Masters degree with a 4.0, with three extra credits earned via another program to boot. I could have used more moments to stop and appreciate where I was, but I really just... kept... going. Except for the occasion when I'd spy my husband on the back porch, gazing at the pond, and I would join him. Even then, I could not quite slow down all the coulda, woulda, shoulda, in my brain. The weight of all I needed to get done dragged behind me because I let it hold me down.
And now there is 2014, the Year of the Horse. I did not realize the coincidence until January 1st, but here it is. And I am not really one for Chinese astrology, other than remembering Rats and Horses can have a tendency to head butt. I am a Rat. My mom is a Horse. And this is the year, in all the jumble of deciding to resign from my teaching position and finishing my Masters, she finally came to the conclusion I came to when I first moved to Vermont: horses are part of who I am, an unavoidable passion of mine. A friend of mine once noted that my internal monologue was pretty much just, "pony pony pony pony..." And they aren't far off. I wake up and check out OTTBs that have been sent to me, I wander way too frequently to sales pages just to stare at photos and pedigrees. If I'm not riding, I'm trying to figure out when I can...
So, here I am, jumping off a large cliff, and trying to make horses work. That is my 2014: horses, and whatever other jobs I need to piece together to make it (if anyone needs a fun cake made, I may be your gal). With any luck, I can tutor as well. I do like educating, both animals and people, as all parties involved learn something, myself included.
I feel a little crazy; but, no matter what I do, it comes back the hopes of a young me, living in Boston, imagining a life out west with my very own cow pony and the teenager, fascinated by the long-format, staring at TRF listings and dreaming Fair Hill dreams.
Little does Suki know, I may be looking for a way to signed her up for working cows.
I feel a little crazy; but, no matter what I do, it comes back the hopes of a young me, living in Boston, imagining a life out west with my very own cow pony and the teenager, fascinated by the long-format, staring at TRF listings and dreaming Fair Hill dreams.
Little does Suki know, I may be looking for a way to signed her up for working cows.
