Monday, March 14, 2011

monday confessions...

Determined. That is one word  I would use to describe myself. There are many others as well, but that is one thing that I am. I'm not one for giving up because something is hard, or I fall on my face, sometimes literally. If I need or want help I'll ask, and I'm not afraid to ask for it either. It doesn't make me feel any less capable, of whatever the task is, I know my limitations and I'm OK with that.
One example in my life is my willingness, drive, desire to buy a horse. I was in high school. I was in love with this one particular horse named Baby. She was an old ex Quarter horse race horse, a good one at that. She was a red roan with a red face and a white spot on her beautiful face. My best friend and I would go see her and her pen mate Sara everyday, sun, rain, snow, sleet, sub zero weather, and that is no joke. We were 2 horse crazy gals, still are, never out grew that. Anyways Baby had a little spit fire of a filly that I fell head over heels in love with. And while most of my other friends were getting their drivers licence, and deciding what boy to date, I was busy getting a job and closing my small bank account to buy this spit fire filly. I got a job, down the road from my parents house, washing dishes at a bakery. (my parents said I had to get a job and close my bank account to help buy her. They helped out a lot with the price of her.) Let me tell you, after I got out of school for the day, I would go wash dishes for hours, then come home to homework! Not nice plates, oh no these were the heavy, industry size mixing bowls, with dried on bread, cookie dough, and various other stuff. And then I had to learn to wait on customers. eeeee! Wasn't prepared for that part, but I did it. I would swallow that lump in my throat, smile and wait on the customer. I learned real quick who liked what, and could usually predict what they would want when they walked through the door. Like my Dad, he would pop in from time to time, passing through, and he would always get the giant soft molasses cookies, sometimes a doughnut if any where left over. It would thrill me when he would pop in and say hi and tease me about working, asking if the filly was worth it. She was. It was nice to know he was checking up on me. I would run the bakery on certain Saturdays by myself. That was a huge step in responsibility for me, I was 16. I only got my license when my mother got sick of driving me to the barn for riding lessons, that I would earn by cleaning stalls, and various other barn chores that I loved to do, and cleaning an old ladies house. Ya I really slept, ate, breathed, lived for horses. As did my best friend. We were joined at the hip practically. I miss her terribly. We still call each other and chat on a regular basis.We have the kind of relationship that doesn't come around very often, doesn't matter how long it's been since our last conversation we pick right up and talk like we just saw each other. I wish we lived closer, and could just "meet half way" and finish our walk together. That is what we did, I lived up town, and she down town, we would meet half way between our houses and walk even father down town to see our beloved horses, Baby and Sara. My best friend and I met when we were in second grade.
I eventually met and married the love of my life, and had a family, so at this point in my life horses have taken a back seat. I have a family that needs me and I need them. I still have that spit fire filly, and now her filly. I have plans and am determined enough to see them through. I will be back in the saddle, galloping through the fields again! Soon!

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