Month: January 2024

I’m jumping on the bandwagon. Going to buy myself a 35 oz Yeti stainless steel cup with a handle. Just spent an HOUR perusing Amazon for my cup of choice. Pink. Pink with glitter. Navy blue. With straw, without straw (straw is a must). Dishwasher safe? Reviews? Cost? What a way to waste some time! Thoroughly enjoyable nonetheless. Not 40 oz… that’s too big. Not 20 oz. That’s too small and mostly don’t have handles. The handle is what got me… how convenient! I definitely need one of those. Because there aren’t fifteen other stainless steel cups in my cupboard that I could use. All without handles. Therefore deemed completely useless.

Those of you that know me well might be thinking… she only drinks Sonic drinks anyway… what does she need a cup with a handle for? Well, friends, I’ll tell you. Because I think about it every day. I feel tremendous guilt over it. Friends and family roll their eyes at me and I was once told (in front of my three year old) that all I drink is poison. I am addicted to Diet Coke. There. I said it. I have said many times in the past that the only good thing about winter is that your Diet Cokes stay cold. I have told friends there’s no way I’m giving them up. That’s one thing I can’t do.

And I’m not. I’m drinking a Diet Coke from Sonic as I type this. (Obviously as my Yeti cup isn’t even ordered yet). I am going to CUT DOWN though. Hopefully by a lot. I’m going to fill this cup up every morning and drink it all before lunch. I’m going to use it while I teach lessons. With water in it. (That definitely has to be clarified as White Claw looks a lot like water and Baby Girl knows to ask me what’s in my cup before she takes it.) I drink Diet Coke for breakfast. I drink it all day long. Probably not a healthy thing to do. I realize this, have always realized it and didn’t ever need anyone to point this out to me. It’s like smoking. Of COURSE you know. But you do it anyway.

I have tried so many things, so many ways to be healthier. Joined OptaVIA in October 2021. That didn’t last long – I did lose some weight and that was good. But not sustainable for me. I gained all my weight due to stress from handling things with my parents for five years. Comfort food. Food on the go. Chocolate. Wine. Trying to cook what my Dad liked to eat, or just buying him (and myself) fast food. The man weighed twelve pounds so he wasn’t concerned. I didn’t realize how much weight I had gained until I saw pictures of myself from my Dad’s memorial. Oh God. Wow. That’s when I signed up for OptaVIA. Met a lovely lady, Julie Armstrong, through it, who is a very inspiring person. But it just wasn’t for me.

I tried the weight loss shot for over a year. That did not work at all. I think I lost five pounds, which I immediately gained back when I stopped the shot. That shit’s way too expensive to keep using when it isn’t really working. Before my Dad’s death I had been involved in CrossFit. I never lost any weight while doing that either. Last summer I joined again but quickly figured out that, while MANY older ladies do participate in that successfully, I wasn’t going to be one of them. After having foot surgery in November of 2021 I wasn’t willing to jump rope again. Or box jump. Or do any weight training involving my neck. And burpees are just out of the question anyway. The parts of my neck and back that aren’t fused are shot with nerve pain and spasms.

I tried getting back into riding. Again, the pain. I took a couple of yoga classes – what a joke! For me. My body doesn’t bend that way and my brain doesn’t slow down or relax enough to enjoy the experience. I don’t even like to sit still long enough to get my hair done. Or my nails. Pure torture. And the supplements. Oh Lord the amount of medications and supplements… anti-depressants, thyroid something, acid reflux stopper, muscle relaxer, iron, vitamin D, vitamin B, fish oil, probiotics, I could go on and on. Which leads me to …

Nucific. Bio X4 or something like that. A host of supplements all wrapped into one in order to fix your gut health and a myriad of other things. You take one three times a day, before you eat. I’ve been doing it a week. Any changes? Not yet. But I’m still optimistic. Today I read the recipe book they sent along with the pills. You have got to be kidding me. If I LIKED eating any of that, if I “drank water,” “exercised daily,” “cut out sugar,” “ate 50% of my meal as veggies,” etc, I wouldn’t be in the mess I’m in! Here are some of the ingredients they want me to A) have on hand and B) have time to put together into something edible: black beans, avocado, spinach, flaxseed, turkey sausage, paprika, cumin, olive oil, raisins, ginger, horseradish flakes, zucchini, nutmeg, parsnips, bell peppers, kale, pumpkin seeds. And more. I am not a chef. None of this save the avocado and olive oil live in my house.

I did say I’m optimistic. That’s because I do feel like gut health is important, and I’m really hoping that I can at least get this under control with the amount or probiotics and other stuff that lives in these supplements. I’m hoping to gain more energy. Lift the fog of depression somewhat. Sleep less, be more productive. And all this got me to thinking…. sugar. sugar. sugar. sugar. I KNOW it causes weight gain, sluggish thinking, bad gut bacteria etc. What I’m finally ready to admit to, and hopefully change, is the amount of artificial sweeteners I inhale every day.

When I was in college I gained weight. I forced myself to start drinking Diet Coke instead of regular Coke. Now I can’t stand regular Coke and won’t touch it. I did lose some weight. I am not a fan of water, and please don’t tell me to drink flavored water because unless it’s sparkly and flavored with alcohol I’m not into it. I’m going to have to force myself to do this, too. I’m not into starving myself or cooking. I’m not into exercising until I fall down dead. I hate cardio (Mom smoking while pregnant with me probably has something to do with my lung capacity being close to zero.)

So what is in my capacity to change? What can I do to create change? How will I change it? Will buying the fancy cup spark my inner will to wake up and come alive? Probably not. But it won’t hurt, and it will remind me of what I am trying to achieve. Start tomorrow? Start when my cup comes in? No. I’m actually going to start today. I’m about to go teach a lesson… I’m going to take a large cup of water with me. It won’t have a handle but that’ll just be something to look forward to. Wish me luck, my friends. I’m going to need it.

I know what heartbreak is. And I know horses. And those two things always go together. Whether you are a rider, trainer, professional, amateur, kid, instructor or just a backyard pony lover there will come a time when heartbreak and horses meet up.

Maybe your horse colics, maybe he must be euthanized, maybe not. Either way, seeing the pain in his eyes and seeing his head low with no welcoming nickers coming your way, you will experience heartbreak. I had a foal once, his name was Bo. He was a super little palomino cutie and he was going to be the last pony I was going to break. From the moment I picked Bo up in the trailer I knew he was going to be special. I had him for five months. One night a summer storm came and I found Bo on the ground the next morning, basically unresponsive. We could not save him. That might have been the last time I cried over a horse. Somewhere along the way our hearts just can’t take any more, and we find a way to shut down our emotions. Oh, the tears come out in other ways and at other times, but in that moment, in that place, there is no way I’m going to cry. My heart will be breaking, shattering, and I will not shed a tear.

The craziest thing I remember about Bo is that he never made a sound. Not from the day I met him. He was a foal, one month shy of his first birthday when he died, and yet…. he never made a single sound. No nicker, no grunts, no whinnies, no neighs. Nothing. I still wonder about that. Not even when he was lying on the ground, in so much pain he couldn’t stand. There was only one answer then. We couldn’t even get him in a trailer. There was no way to save him.

Before Bo, on another day, a client’s horse went insane over a cow that was loose beyond our property. She completely freaked out. Ended up slamming her head into a post in the paddock. Broke her pelvis, maybe her neck. She couldn’t get up, couldn’t move. It was raining and as I stood with the Dad of the little girl that owned her, I cried for that loss. She had only owned her for four months. She was a beautiful soul, this horse. Which matched the free spirit of her little girl. It was a damn shame.

There was the time I had to sell my step-daughter’s pony. Sometimes in the horse business we have to make incredibly tough choices. As he left in the trailer I was beside myself with grief. He nickered as they drove away and I buried my head in my husband’s chest. I knew I would never get him back. When a client’s horse left for Colorado and I understood that I would never see him again, a little part of me went with him. When I heard that a filly I had sold to a western riding lady had coliced and died six months after she purchased her from me – a filly I adored – I went into a deep despair for awhile. I was angry. And sad. And completely heartbroken. When my husband’s horse foundered and had to be put down, he didn’t cry. So I cried for him.

So many horses have come and gone in my life. Horses I have loved, that I’ve fought for, won on, cheered on and trusted with my life. They haven’t all belonged to me. When my own horse, Jaxon, died at 29 years old, out in a retirement pasture, I bawled. When a former student’s horse that was in the same retirement pasture died years later I bawled again. Recently I heard of another old lesson horse that had been retired there had also passed away of old age. I didn’t cry this time. I was super sad, but happy that he’d had a long time to relax in his retirement. He was an excellent horse. Some of you may remember old Benny. He died at Thanksgiving.

There are too many sad stories. Too many tales to tell. The problem with horses is that they really get under your skin. And they are fragile. They are not as tough as we’d like them to be. Small stomachs that are sensitive to just about everything, they have no ability to throw up and a penchant to eat things they shouldn’t. They find the one thing in the pasture that could injure them and impale themselves on it. They slip and strain a tendon. They roll and get cast in their stall. They work themselves into an anxiety induced frenzy at a horseshow. Or in a trailer. Or somehow break a leg in a paddock that doesn’t even have a tree. They can’t handle weather changes. They need bubble wrap and padded stalls. Can’t be left out with a halter on in case they hang themselves up. They do stupid things. Like climbing on gates and walls.

And then there’s the horse you see in a paddock as you drive by… farm equipment and machinery everywhere. Goats and weeds. Rusted water troughs and broken gates. And you wonder why THESE horses don’t get hurt when yours do just by looking sideways at them? It’s a mystery for sure.

I have been doing this professionally for twenty three years. I have seen so much. Been part of so much. Loved and lost so much. Watched my child cry and grieve over her broken pony and come out stronger on the other side. Been side by side with clients, with parents of little girls who had excruciating decisions to make. Held a friend’s hand. Drank with her and shushed her when she vowed to never love another horse.

I’ve been down in the shavings, or in the dirt or mud. I’ve had rain and snow and sleet on my face walking a horse with colic in the middle of the night while my two year old slept alone in the house. Driven a truck and trailer that weren’t mine through a rain storm to get the pony to the emergency vet. Held a horse’s leg together on my knees while he bled through copious towels until the vet could arrive to stitch him together.

I will not cry. But I will grieve just the same. Inside my heart is broken any time something happens that I could not stop, could not prevent, cannot fix. I will do everything I can to ease the pain of the horse (or pony) and whoever loves it. My heart aches as much as anyone’s, my pain internal. I will not give up, I believe in miracles. I have seen them happen. I will carry on. When horses and heartbreak meet I will do everything I can to create a happy ending. I might not show my pain but it is there, carried along in my heart with every horse I’ve ever loved. Every client I’ve ever cared for. Every little kid I’ve ever taught and some I haven’t. I’ve learned to save the tears and emotion for another day.

Because I am a horsewoman. And always will be.