Reason #355: Why I Love My Mare....

You can tell that Sug was a mommy in her previous life, and that she looks upon my children as her foals.  She takes such care of them when they are on her back or around her on the ground; she's always gentle with them and careful of them.  She's also been known to scold them in her deep voiced rumble when she thinks they are getting out of line.  Now, I know that she is an animal and as such, is unpredictable.  That's why I take care to supervise the kids' interactions with her and mitigate any situations that might pose more than the danger inherent in hanging out with 1000lb animals.  However, one look at this video and you can see why I absolutely adore this creature, and trust her as much as I do with my children.

Need a life, much????

Last Friday afternoon I went to the barn, rode two horses, and then drove 4.5 hours to Connecticut through Friday night beach traffic on I-95 (need I say any more??) to spend the better part of this weekend watching my friend's daughter compete in a horse show.

Got to Connecticut around 8pm (effing Connecticut traffic!!), had a quick but enjoyable dinner (love ya, Alforno!) and then went to the show for night check.  Got up at o'dark hundred the next morning to head to the horse show (Venti triple shot latte, anyone) and spent the day in the hurry-up-and-wait mode associated with horse shows. 

At some point during the day we escaped to have lunch and hit the outlet mall.  Let me just say that clothes shopping gives me fits.  I get twitchy about 5 minutes into any shopping trip, and quite frankly, am completely overwhelmed in most retail situations.  I will buy 12 different colors of the same shirt if it fits just to make life easier. 

Horse shopping, however, is a horse of a different color.  (Sorry, had to do it).  I hit the horse show's tack shop at least 4 times, and must've picked up and touched every darn thing in the store.  I can spend HOURS shopping for my horse.  I don't have the cashola to do serious damage, but if I did, she'd be the best dressed equine on the block.  Dress sheets make me swoon, leather goods sent me into fits of ecstasy, and I can debate the merits of various types of boots until the cows come home.  Bought a completely un-needed wool dress sheet that was on sale for a ridiculous amount, just because my angel looks pretty in navy and lavender.

Another trek down I-95 and I'm home.  What do I do once the kids go to sleep?  I cruise some of my favorite horsey web sites, read the latest issue of Chronicle of the Horse (I always mean to savor it, never can muster the willpower and ALWAYS read it in one sitting) and crawled into bed with, you guessed it, a horse book. 

A friend of mine suggested I've got an obsessive-autistic issue. (?????!!!!!!????)  Really??  Dr. Phil much? Another suggested I need a life.  As she does nothing but watch Court TV all day, her opinion doesn't weigh much. 

Frankly, I don't care.  I'm good with it.  The kids are fed, the house is standing, no science projects in the fridge, and no one seems to be getting hurt.  I'm thinking that in the scheme of things, I'm ahead of the crack whores.  Nothing like setting the bar high.....

Looking good...or maybe not

It's probably a good thing that I'm married, because there's no way I'd be able to attract another potential mate at this point, even if I'd wanted to.  Most days I am dressed in an old t-shirt picked up at a concert/pub/sports event.  Usually said t-shirt is covered in horse slobber or whatever I've been cooking and have absentmindedly wiped on myself.  I've been known to run out to Cumberland Farms in my rubber duckie pj's if there's no milk for my morning latte.  Add to all of this the fact that I rarely wear makeup and leave the car windows open so my hair sticks up like Heat Miser's, and I think you get where I'm going with this.

However, I think I hit a new high (low?) the other night.  It was a gajillion degrees in the shade, and I went down to the barn to hose down my sweaty mare and a friend's horse.  By the time I got to the barn, the heat had dropped a bit and I decided it would be fun to channel my inner child and hop up on my horse bareback and have a nice relaxing ride.

We played around, working on lateral movements and over some ground poles.  I hopped off after about 15 minutes and hosed her off, then grazed her.  I then grabbed my friend's horse and hopped on him for more of the same.

After I was done with the second horse I hosed him off, paying cursory attention to hosing off my legs, which had taken on quite a bit of hair from each horse -- a lovely, itchy mix of gray and brown.  However, I forgot one key area of my anatomy that had been in contact with the horses. Apparently my ass was COVERED in horse hair, a fact which largely escaped me even when I wandered in to the local Kings in search of a beverage for the ride home.  I noticed quite a few people staring, many of them smiling, and a few outright laughing.  Didn't really think much of it (again, I go to the store in my pj's) until I got home and the aforementioned husband fell down laughing, pointing to my butt and choking out a word that sounded vaguely like Sasquatch in between gales of laughter.

Oh well, the cats thought I looked pretty good.

Minor rant...

Just got back from a business trip.  Now, I don't sleep very well when in hotels so by the time I get home I'm usually seriously sleep deprived and, yes, this makes my already colorful personality a tad more colorful.  I know this.  My family knows this.  So you'd think they would do anything to avoid creating situations that would cause any potentially "colorful" outbreaks, right. (Before I go on, note, no one, human or animal, is harmed when I get colorful. Unless you count their ears -- I can get loud.)

Things that send me over that very thin edge I hover on:

1) Granite is not camouflage.  Just because it is difficult to see the glob of jelly on the counter does NOT mean it isn't there.  If you've done anything on the counter -- prepared food, eaten food, created crafts -- CLEAN THE DAMN COUNTER OFF!  'Nuff said. 

2) Cleaning the counter off does not mean sweeping the crumbs on the counter off onto the floor.  This is cheating, and will be penalized accordingly.  If there's one thing that peeves Mom off more than sticking to the counter, it's walking through the kitchen and sticking to the floor (or feeling the crunch of crumbs underfoot).

3) If you open the fridge door and something growls at you, do not just close the door and move to the pantry in search of food.  Remove the offender from the fridge. If it's old enough to grow hair and mutate, you can't eat it and it must be thrown out.  Good rule of thumb: If Mom is gone more than 3 days, any leftover item/sandwich/doggie bag that was in the fridge before Mom left is too old to be safely ingested.  Throw it away. 

4)  Leaving the toilet seat cover up so the cats can drink is not okay.  Fill their water bowls.  Clean out the litter box while you are at it. 

5) Do not leave wet towels/clothes/blankets/toys strewn on floor.  You know where these things belong. Put whatever-it-is wherever it belongs.

Following these well known and oft-communicated guidelines will ensure that Mom's return to the bosom of her family will be less eventful for everyone.