HAPPY BIRTHDAY LENNA!!!!!!!!!!!!

You go girl. Shake that booty and party like nobody is watching! I hope you have a wonderful day. (And I hope you are still talking to me after seeing this.)

Note to cyber friends: No, my mom's name isn't Lenna but she would be even madder if I told you it was Ethel. The picture is circa 1991. The ole gal won't shake her money maker much these days. She doesn't even get a real birthday this year, or next year or the year after. She had to be special and be a leap year baby. Saves me from buying her a gift every year!

Mom, I love you and wish you all the best!

An Apology

Dear Colon, I am writing with an advanced apology over what I am about to put you through. See, I promised myself I was gonna try to do an endurance ride in 2 months from today. How do you factor into that you ask? Well in an effort to make myself a bit less like a Blue Whale on my precious Arabian mare I thought I would get back to eating healthy. And taking supplements. Supplements that clean out and detox you, my colon, dear friend. This will only require an inconvenience on your part for 7 days. I plead with you to please be patient and have mercy on me. I ask that you take great care to not punish me for all that I have forced upon you in the way of chili, salsa, extra jalapenos on my nachos and the like. I will be better to you in the future, I promise. Please, be nice. Please.

My farrier not so gently reminded me today that my ride was in 2 months! How in the hell did that happen?? I am so very not ready. I have eaten salads and fruits and vegetables and gained 2 pounds. This ride is going to kill me. At the grocery today I noticed an innocent little display of "Slimquick weight loss jump start kits". Hmm. sounds reasonable enough. Especially if you are your cell phone and not really paying attention to what you are buying. That part is always more fun to do when you get home. Well, evidently my "kit" wants me to detox my colon before I take the weight loss supplement. Ooh this should be fun. I have never detoxed any part of my being before. It sounds a bit ominous.

With all that said, I ate my turkey and avocado sandwich and swallowed 4 non-descript capsules that are currently on their way to rid my body off all the ills I have put it through. Dear God, I hope I bought enough toilet paper.

Shaqerriae, this is all for you baby. Never let it be said momma doesn't love you!

Just Between Friends

It is a great thing indeed to have a friend. I am fortunate enough to enjoy a nice circle of them. We all have friends that we rely on for different things. You have the friend that will tell you that yes, as a matter of a fact, your butt does look big in those jeans. You have the friend that will indulge you in your rants about your husband/boyfriend/job/other friend, etc. There is always the enabler friend ready to whisk off at a moment's notice to assist you in doing whatever it is you should not be doing, especially when it means acquiring something horsey. And on the list goes. A good friend is a good confidente. There isn't much not shared when you and your friends are thick as thieves. Not even the process by which you wipe your butt.


It all started innocently enough over my third cup of coffee during a phone call to Di. She and I are President and Vice-President of an Arabian breeders/owners club. We needed to nail down a date for a dressage show we are putting on among other club matters. We haggled and fussed and found our show date. We co-composed important emails. We were doing work. And then it happened. I peed whilst on the phone. Now this in and of itself is no big deal. Girls, we ALL pee while on the phone to our friends. And quite possibly our husbands and mothers. How in the name of all that is Holy did the conversation ever turn to the amount and usage of toilet paper I will never know. But turn it did. All club business was immediately suspended as we certainly had something far more pressing to delve into. And as is the habit of Di and I, we delved deep.
Di, much to my amazement is a folder of toilet paper. She commented that she takes great pride to fold her tissue just so. Carefully she selects 3 squares of her tissue and neatly folds it, ready for use. Now let me tell you, if I took 3 squares, folded or not, that mess would disappear up the Great Divide that is my ass so fast your head would spin. When asked how she got the job done with 3 lone squares she stated that she sometimes went for a second set of 3 squares. I did find it quite interesting to note that she was unable to tell me if she folded accordian style or over and over. I admire her resolve to be so neat and tidy in the privy but I still have yet to wrap my mind around the concept of folding.
It is a good thing I have strong plumbing as I am a wadder. I want to grab hold of that Charmin strong and let her roll. Give me a big fluffy wad. No counting, no folding, no going back for seconds. Let's just get this done.


Now the argument was made by her in that she is able (as a folder) to fold the used over and have a clean side. "But you have more surface area if you wad" I reply. "Besides if you get a big enough wad you can fold it over". I think it is at this point that my dear unshakable friend shuddered. The mere thought of a wad of toilet paper coming toward her naked butt is enough to give her the heebee jeebiees. I don't understand it. I guess as neither of us has to rely on the other to wipe our respective whoo-whoos then I guess we can live and let live. It does make me wonder though, what type of friends do I have that will fold their tp? OK you nosy readers. Are you folders or wadders????? And don't lie.

Saddened, stressed and sneezing

So maybe I am a little slow on the uptake. I finally get the picture and it's a sad one. I have been dismissed from a friend's life. That's ok. It happens. It wasn't ugly as most breakups go so at least there's that. The past year has seen several changes in her life and mine too I guess. Seems that our biggest basis for the friendship was the horses and since there is strife in that department then there is no need for me. Hmm. Fact is, I (and most of our friends) sincerely believe that her new horse is a bit too much and she took it as a slam. Umm, preserving my friend's well being is kinda important to me. That has effectively, over time, ended the relationship. The hammer fell today when she left me a voicemail that her new trailer was finished and she had hauled to the arena. Without me. I have been excused. While I am sad at the loss I take comfort in the incredible people that I ride with and have deep friendships with outside of horses. If the horses were gone tomorrow these people would still be there. That is a powerful thing to have in your heart.
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Now onto the stress and the sneezing. That sweet, adorable, precious kitty has caused my nasal passages to clamp down tighter than all get out. My eyes itch. My lungs itch. I knew it would happen. All the critters attack my sinuses (thanks Dad) with all their might. Zyrtec is my friend. Now if you'll excuse me I need to go switch laundry because said kitty PEED IN MY BED her first day here. Now if that isn't brazen I don't know what is!

What's been missing

I am a cat lover. Dogs are OK but they kinda go along life with a dumb smile on their face and pretty much anybody can be their friend. Unless the dog is Socks and the person is me. And for the record, she growled at me first. Cats can be a bit aloof and bitchy. That is a much more admirable trait to me. You have to earn it with most cats. Dogs? A Milkbone and you're friends for life. Well, the Socks clause still applies.

*

In the spring of 2007 the family and I made the trek to the Austin area to pick up our much anticipated Bengal kitten from Katznjamr Bengals. We had plunked down our deposit and had waited not so patiently for the time when our baby was ready to come home. She was not our first Bengal so we knew what we were getting into. Allie was beyond bad though. She took aloof and bitchy to new heights. She was destructive. She didn't like men. She was everything in a cat that makes non cat people hate cats. And I could not have loved that cat more if I had of hatched her myself. Last fall Allie got sick. The vet did everything to try and save her but it was not to be. I lost my Allie cat.

So on Tuesday my partner in crime, Sabrina, called to say that our vet has 2 kittens to give away in his office. An orange and a black and white. Told her thanks but no thanks. I wanted another Bengal and was waiting for another kitten this fall from Allie's breeder. I told myself no for 3 whole days. This morning I called to see if the kittens were still there and as fate would have it, the little orange female was. The vet's office said she was very upset as her buddy had been taken home last night. I asked them to give her her shots (they already had) and I would pick her up. I get there and am presented with the cutest orange kitten that is purring way too loudly, kneading me with her fuzzy paws and smearing my face with her nose and cheeks. Turns out she is a purebred Scottish Fold that didn't fold so she wasn't really marketable. I have never considered the breed for me. I think they look goofy. Ears, pedigree, etc aside, I think she is just what we have been missing. I am glad she is so sweet and so ADD because if she were too much like Allie in personality, well, that just might hurt too much.

So here I am

I have been hemming and hawing over blogging for quite some time. I don't expect to captivate John Q. Public with exciting tales from my life. What I do expect to do is to keep myself a bit more honest about promises I have made to myself. Back in December I was unceremoniously dismounted from my dear APHA mare. Two fractured vertabrae and a $22k hospital bill later and I think I am ready to ride again. I have the most fabulous friend who doubles as a horse trainer in her real life. She will be holding my hand and cracking the whip as needed to 'encourage' me to get over myself and enjoy my horses again. Goal: Bluebonnet Endurance ride in 2 months. In order to achieve this goal and not die I need to lose weight, get fit(ter), and actually ride my horse. No. Not the one that broke my back. My good horse. The spooky Arab mare that is my equine soulmate. Tylenol anyone?

Just so there are no illusions that I am superwoman, the youngest had a meltdown this morning. Over his brother's lunchbox. Over his brother's lunchbox that contained stuff he wouldn't eat. Grrrrrrr. This happened in the parking lot of the school this morning. I am sure we sent more than one mommy home burning up her phone line in our bitty town to tell her BFF about the redneck mom beating her kid. Ladies, I won't even ask you to walk a mile in these boots. Just a few steps should send you screaming.

So there. My first blog post and nobody has been harmed as a result. Yet.