Life isn’t all maudlin and sadness over here, despite how my last post sounded. I have found a new rhythm, and it suits me.

Reverie is four years old now, and away at training.

Can you believe that?

I know, I know.

She was born, and then life got busy and crazy, and now she’s four.

Reverie is probably as tall as she’s ever going to be (14.3), but she only recently began to fill out.  She’s shaped just like her mother so I know she will fill out, but I almost waited until she was 5 to start her. It’s not that she needed time to mentally mature, just physically, since I’m not exactly a tiny dewdrop fairy of a woman. On the other hand, that filly has been aching for a job since she was two. In the absence of me giving her something to do, she assigned herself her own job, which is to gently and lovingly dismantle every. single. gutter. on. the. farm.

It’s like that old saying goes – nature abhors a vacuum, luck favors the prepared, and Reveries abhors proper building drainage.

Anyways, she’s away at training at Silver Mesa Morgans in Monmouth, Oregon, and she’s doing great. When they picked her up they asked me what my goals were, and like any prepared owner, I told them my detailed plans: “Uh…. don’t make her hate being ridden?  And make her sorta rideable?”

It’s good to have goals.

I went out to visit her this past week, and they’re doing an amazing job. Every horse pricked up its ears and came to say hello with a friendly expression when I walked past their stall (a fantastic sign!). Reverie heard my voice and somehow managed to get the top of her chin over the 7 or 8 foot wall on the back of her stall and strained to catch a glimpse of me, which made me feel really, really good about myself.

 

I haven’t been away from her for more than a day or so since 2018, and I was surprised how much I have missed her while she was gone.

They tacked her up, which brought me joy, because she was clearly delighted to be chosen to work.

She’s right where she needs to be – no rush, no pushing her unnecessarily, giving her space to learn and actually enjoy the process of learning, and it was fantastic to realize that by next month, I could actually be up on her.

In the meantime, I’m far from horseless. Scandias Mademoiselle, otherwise known as Madam, is currently in the barn.

Madam is intelligent, sweet, and kind.

Madam is… gorgeous.

Madam is smooth as silk to ride.

Madam is a lady.

Madam is claaaaaaasssssy, and probably way too good to be in my barn, but I am not complaining. Besides, Madam is relaxed and happy, and seems pretty darn content with her new life.

DragonMonkey likes to crawl up on her back and play games on his phone while she wanders around grazing. I’m not gonna lie – it looks soothing, and I’m distinctly jealous I’m no longer an agile, bounceable teen.

Magpie loves her and is always begging to ride her. She’s currently asking for horseback riding lessons, because her current dream is to be a pickup man at a rodeo.

Since she’s probably gonna end up around 5’3 and maybe 100 pounds sopping wet I don’t know if that’s in her future, but maybe she could take over my own childhood dream of being a jockey?

Anyways, life is quiet, and that’s good. I have a barn full of goats, mostly because it turns out that once you’re an adult with your own disposable income, the only thing telling you that you can’t get another goat is your own pocketbook.

I figure I’ll probably give them their own intro post soon.

Artemis is getting old, which feels weird, but also somehow peaceful. It seems strange to think of life before her.  On some days it feels like she has always been here, and like I have always lived in Oregon.

Other times my brain stutters and stops and struggles with the fact she’s been in my life for a decade.  How in the world? Wasn’t I just blogging about getting her?

And yet.  She’s covered in benign cysts (according to the xrays) and her muzzle is greying, and she has definitely turned the corner this year from older lab to just plain old 🙁

Also, if you ever get the chance to own an old lab, do it.  Old labs are absolutely, the 100% pinnacle best of dogdom. She has all the sweet, loving devotion of her youth, but she’s twice as peaceful, and BONUS, she’s too clunky to get up on the counters anymore.  10/10 recommend this experience.

I’m not really sure how to end this post. I’ve been out of the habit of writing for so long, but I recently switched from dayshift to graveyards, and realized that the only way to start back writing again is to, well, start back.  I’m not quite ready to plunge back into the world of trying to write for money.  Besides, there’s something therapeutic about this.  I started this blog way back when I was 25, trying to figure myself out  I’m 41 now, and in the same odd position, albeit with a lot more responsibility. and oddly, a lot less stress.

Still, I’m out of practice at it, so instead of coming up with something catchy, I’ll just end it with some gratuitous photos that make me happy.