Sometimes it all comes together...it just takes a while.

I've had Rose for nearly four years. She is the first horse I have ever "owned" on my own. Yes, I've had horses most of my life, but I've always worked with those horses for other people or my mother and I have shared the horses we have owned as a family. I liken it to the family dog. You know, the dog belongs to the entire family. That's what it was like with the horses.

But, Rose - she is mine. Nobody else had a say when I purchased her. In fact, I remember telling a few people I was thinking of buying a draft mare and for various reasons they tried to talk me out of purchasing her. But, she had won my heart from the very moment we met.  It was the way she looked at me, with big brown expressive eyes. Her eyes said everything. She was kind. She had a large heart. She had spirit.(She tried to buck me off the first time I rode her!) She was beautiful, and she knew it.

Our relationship  has grown over the years and I hope that we have learned from each other, because I know that she has taught me far more than any other horse has in my life. But,  I also know her better that I know myself. We are in this journey together, and while the path has had some bumps in it, they were all learning experiences. I like to think that I am a better horsewoman and she is a better horse every time we work together.

Today, as we were working in the round pen, I asked her to move out into a canter, and she caught her hoof on the outside board of the pen. She fell to her knees, but quickly got up and promptly came trotting to me in the center of the pen. It was like a child that had just fallen off it's bike and running to it's mother.

You could see the worry all over my poor mare's face. She thought the "tiger" had surely made her trip over her own feet and they were still after her. While I was concerned for her, it made my heart burst with love that this big, strong mare came to me for safety and reassurance - as  if I could just hold her in my lap and comfort her like an 1,800 pound lap dog.

So, I scratched her belly and cooed to her and then sent her back out to work in the round pen to deal with the "tigers" and work around me. She soon forgot all about the tigers, since I (her fearless leader) re-assured her that they were gone.

Sometimes it all comes together- it just takes a while. I often felt on our journey together that Rosie and I could have gone different directions, but with a little patience, forgiveness, and firm direction  we have proven to each other that we are more than just horse and owner. We are a team.

As a side note, the music today is chosen because my very first horse was named after this song by America. Yes, his name was Magic. He was the horse that started it all when I was seven. And, I still have a photo of him and me in my office at work. America - Magic

Confessions: 11 secrets you never knew about J. Massing

Alright, so we all have deep, dark secrets. We do. It's part of our make-up. I'm in a sharing mood, so I will share 11 of the things, that many of you probably don't know about me. Feel free to comment (nicely!) or add your own.

1. I dream in color.
2. I can (and have) spent the entire day in my pajamas and don't feel bad about it when I do. I rather enjoy being lazy  and sometimes I even have a bottle of wine on these days, too.
3. I have terrible anxiety issues.
4. I have road rage.
5. Despite my tomboy streak, I really do like being a girly-girl sometimes and have warmed up to the color pink. Sometimes, I even wear it!
6. I worry about money constantly, despite being on solid financial footing. I think my husband may start calling me Scrooge McDuck.
7. I can eat an entire large pizza if I was: a.) hungry enough. b.) really wanted to. Yes, I have done it.
8. I love going to the movies by myself. Who doesn't like to take themselves out on a date?
9. I really relish getting older. I feel more comfortable with myself, I like my grey hair and finally feel settled in my life. Getting older is pretty cool.
10. Sometimes when I try something on at home, and don't feel like refolding, I just throw it back in the laundry pile, especially when it's Dan's week to do the laundry.
11. I am terrified to have children. I really want to have children, well "child," but even the thought of it paralyzes me. I'm supposed to be responsible for a human? Check back in a couple years, maybe I will be ready then.

Eddie Vedder -Hard Sun

A wee bit homesick...

I've been out of the nest for a while. Granted, I had a bit of a false start when I left for about two years after undergrad, I then  decided the world was just too tough and went back to live at home to go to grad school.  In my defense, I've long since moved back out, am married and have recently purchased a home of my own.

But, I was driving home tonight listening to some Paul McCartney and was struck by how homesick I really was. I haven't been home since April and I could feel the universe tugging at me to jump in the car and make the six hour trek back to the Boro.

Aside from the Paul McCartney, which my mom and I always listen to back home, I'm not sure what triggered such a pang to head back home. Maybe it was the fact Homecoming was last weekend and I saw all my friends posting pictures of Homecoming festivities, or how Fall always makes me think of riding horses with my mom like we used to when I was young. Whatever it was, I couldn't ignore it.

My parents/parent have had the same house since I was about two, so as you can imagine I have a lot of memories there. In fact, after my father died (Note: my parents divorced when I was 16 and my father moved to WV.) it was not his house in WV that was painful to be at, but the one in Edinboro. That was the house I grew up in with my father. I helped him build the addition on the garage, we hunted bunnies in the field surrounding the house, he taught me to ride a two wheeler there and where he caught me sneaking in after curfew.

But, I digress.

My point is while I moved out of my house years ago, and it is no longer "my" house  I still miss home. I think we all do, no matter how many years ago we left the nest. And, you're never too old to go home. So, when the universe pulls you there, you should go.

John Denver - Country Roads

What happened to Thanksgiving?

I was recently at a chain restaurant that has a gift shop attached and was appalled to see it decorated for ..CHRISTMAS! I'm not talking a small section with a few holiday do-dads, or a Christmas tree with some ornaments. I am talking 3/4 of the store decked out in Christmas splendor.

It's only the 2nd week in October! What the heck happened to Halloween and Thanksgiving? I love Thanksgiving. In fact, it is my favorite holiday. It is a fat kid's dream! It's a holiday based around giving thanks, and to show the thanks we  EAT EAT EAT! I'm OK with that.

Not only that, but Thanksgiving has deep historical roots that go back to the infancy of our country.
Here is a link to history.com  with videos about Thanksgiving, the Mayflower, pilgrims, etc.

I know the skipping of Thanksgiving and the harvest season is largely due to retailers not being able to capitalize as much on this holiday, which is so sad.

So, I hope you don't skip Thanksgiving. I hope you teach your children all of the historical background that goes with the holiday. I hope when you are carving pumpkins you take that opportunity to reflect on the  beginnings of our great country.

But, most of all, I hope you just enjoy the time of this season, the beautiful colors, the perfect weather, the celebrations with family, it is all too great to wish away.

And, the day after Thanksgiving, you will  find me putting up my Christmas tree.

The Muppet Show- Taylor the Turkey

I can't sleep..

I've never been a good sleeper. My mom said that when I was a baby, she kept waiting for me to sleep through the night and it never happened. She said I was never fussy or angry about being awake in the middle of the night, and that most of the time I would just lie there contentedly.

I hate to tell her that the same is true today. I love to sleep. In fact, there is a rule in our house that when I am sleeping that you do not wake me up, or else you will be certain to suffer the wrath of Mean Julie. But, alas, I have not slept a full eight hours, ever.

It doesn't help that I have hearing like a bat and any if the neighbor two houses down on Dartmouth Drive sneezes, I will indeed hear it and sit bolt upright in bed. And my dear, sweet husband snores like a freight train, although this is much better since he lost about 40 pounds recently. So, I enlisted the help of some earplugs. Those are a wonderful invention!

I've asked my doc about this several times and he gives me the same blah blah.. wound to tight.. blah blah.. bedtime routine... Whatever. I've tried the routine and it doesn't work and I've tried Melatonin, and that just makes me a zombie for the rest of the next day.

But there is something very soothing for me to be pattering around the house at God's hours. Sometimes I go and sit on my back deck and listen to the world make all of it's beautiful noises around me. I'll even confess to  waking up in a panic about my horse and going out there at 2:00 a.m. just to check on her. Most of the time I find her grazing or sleeping soundly. Happy to see me, of course, but confused by my sudden appearance. I'll also do some cleaning, or if I know that I can try to catch a nap the next day, I'll stay up just to watch the sunrise.

And, it's not that I can't sleep, I just can't seem to stay asleep. Something inside of me jolts me awake at odd hours. My father was like this, too. And, like him I have an internal alarm clock, and I've been told both he and my grandfather never set an alarm. I have the  alarm next to my bed set every morning for 5:30 a.m., but I am always awake by 4:45 a.m.

I guess I have inherited this internal alarm clock, only I wish that I could set it to give me a good solid eight hours of sleep and not go off at random times.

 "Muhammed my Friend " -Tori Amos with Maynard James Keenan (Tool) 

Sometimes mares just know...

I pulled on my barn boots the other day for the first time since July.

I injured my knee earlier in the summer, which required surgery and made me very dependent on others  for help. I am fortunate enough to have a loving, helpful husband and fabulous friends that were there to help before I could even ask for it. But of all the things I missed,  riding and spending time with my mare made my heart hurt the most, like a piece of my soul was missing. If you don't ride horses, it's tough to explain the connection we have with them.

 I remember going out to see Rosie about five days after surgery and sobbing large  tears of ache and frustration because I couldn't do anything but stand in front of her stall. And then, as if in answer, she laid her massive grey head on my chest, closed her eyes and exhaled a giant breath as if letting go of a great burden and comforting me at the same time, letting me know that she was my partner, and my teammate through it all.

Yesterday, finally free of crutches, I stepped into the barn and inhaled the sweet scent of hay and horses. I walked out to the pasture, enjoying the fact that I was alone and the barn was quiet except for the  mew of newborn kittens and the gentle breeze blowing through the barn.

I went out and lead Rosie in from the pasture and cross-tied her and set to work grooming her massive body. By the time I was done I was covered in hair, dirt and Rosie slobber and was very happy about it. But, I've noticed a change in her over these few months. She is extra careful with me, she walks a little slower, she doesn't nudge me for treats and if I get off balance while we are walking she subtly leans into me so I can use her for support. But most of all, her gaze never leaves me. She watches me constantly like a mother hen.

After I finished grooming I was ready to put Rosie back in her pasture, but when I asked her to move off and follow me out she just stood there, a concerned look in her eye. I stepped closer, asking if she was Ok. Her ears twitched in answer to my question. Then as if on cue, she used her head to bump me to her neck, which I encircled with my arms in a hug, inhaling her sweet horse scent, letting all the stress, fear, pain, anxiety and other emotions weep out of me. I felt her neck bend and she "hugged" me back, letting out a sigh. We stayed like that for a few minutes in the quiet of the barn. And, then she moved off, obviously anxious to get back to her friend Darcy in the pasture.

As I drove home I realized I was one of the lucky few to have a horse that knows me so well, and I her. And I smiled.

Sometimes, mares just know...

The Sundays: Wild Horses