A good friend of mine told me once that cowgirls wear many hats. Some wear that of a mother, a wife, a home maker, a career woman, a Christian, a sister, an aunt, a steward of the land, and care taker to her animals. Along with those sundry titles goes a sense of responsibility, and the need to learn how to prioritize when and where to wear those hats.
I know for me, I've been a daughter, a sister, a care taker of my horses. The past five years have seen me become a wife and a mother as well. The changes in our lives can come gradually, marked by time, something we ourselves can watch after a substantial step back to get an appreciation for what has tangibly transpired in our own personal time line. More often than not, the changes that occur aren't the friendly, easily remarked upon times that are so easily accustomed to...they're harsh, unforgiving and more of a struggle than most of us let on. Life possesses so many erratic tendencies that it's only true constant is change itself. Just as you settle in and things seem to "make sense", things seemingly up-end themselves, and with never a thought or notice otherwise. Learning to deal with those changes is what makes the core of a true cowgirl. A mother may be looking at her child as they struggle with their first "big horse", knowing full well that it's only a matter of time before the cues become smoother, more fluid. Softer hands, a gentler touch--thinking ahead. Watching their eyes light up with pride as they begin to accomplish more and more every day, whether it's leading their horse by themselves or simply getting their boots on the right feet that morning.
I know as a mother I want my kids to enjoy what I do; to love the same things that make my heart beat a little faster. Being raised in the country as I was, having the ability to play outside, get dirty and covered in grass stains...that's priceless for me to be able to give that to my kids. I'm more driven now to get Smoke started and finished on the barrel pattern, so that by the time Jolie is old enough to ride a big horse, she'll have one waiting for her. If she decides when she's four or five that she'd rather be a ballet dancer, or a softball player, or a swimmer, I'll take up with whatever suits her, but the horses will always be there if she decides to go back to them. I want my kids to have every chance they can to do the absolute best that they can if they decide they want to ride, rope, play basket ball, show livestock-just whatever floats their boat!
I think that's where the ability to prioritize comes in...learning when to put the kids' wants/needs ahead of my own, and to recognize when it's OK to have have time for something for myself. Everything works in cycles it seems like-Jackson spent last summer and all of this summer really learning to ride as I stepped back from competing. This summer was somewhat out of necessity, aside from just having our baby girl, my poor horses can't seem to stay sound these days. I know that things happen for a reason, so I'm trying to step back and look at the bigger picture. There's something here--something that God is wanting me to do different. By not spending time on either of my horses, it makes me wonder what God has planned for me. I suppose being patient and praying about it will help...of course, wrapping them both in bubblewrap can't hurt either!

Thoughts on a cool morning...

A cool morning is always appreciated around my house. It usually evokes two emotions for me, and has since I was about 15. When I first open my eyes and take in the world around me, I'm more than 100% content to laze around in bed and literally just lay around in the cool morning hours. Nothing makes for better sleep than a cool morning just before the sun gets to showing his face. The other emotion is the one I should follow more often--the urge to go catch a horse, and do something constructive!
This time last year I was getting up at 5 a.m. every morning to catch my barrel horse , and work on conditioning him. We'd ride the fence line of our little place at a long trot, building his wind a little more with every stride. A snaffle bit and split reins went along way to relax him and take some of his anxiety away about life in general. He's a laid back sort of feller most of time anyway, but when it would come time to saddle up, he became a worry wart. He never made a nuisance of himself, but he was apt to push on the bit and hollow his back out, blow a lead change on a circle, just little niggling things that drove me crazy. We went back to basics-stopping straight on a loose rein, flexing, keeping an arc from nose to tail as we loped a circle, backing without hesitation. Sidepassing, stopping without throwing his head straight up in the air was my biggest obstacle--it drove me crazy when I would ask him to slow down or stop!
For years he'd been ridden in a tie down no matter what-don't get me wrong, I'll still crack one out and put a horse in one if I think it's really necessary. I used one on him after I first acquired him, but as time has gone on, I've tried to teach him that he CAN travel without one. That he doesn't have to look for that noseband ever time he goes to stop...that it's easier to follow his nose when I ask him to give than to do things on his own and muscle through a turn like a musk ox! He was just as nice and broke as they come when he first came to me, but he just didn't handle like I wanted him to. I'm proud that he'll lope off with his head low, that a bump of an outside leg will tip his nose toward whichever leg I bumped with, and that I can run him without a tie down now. He's a more responsive, softer, thinking horse now. Before, he didn't think, he responded, and it was usually rough! The way he's built makes him rough to ride at a trot, so long hours of long trotting allowed him to learn to carry himself differently, to not ride like such a lumber wagon! He still has his moments where he wants to do things the easy way, but the longer I have him the fewer and farther between those moments become.
My boy is standing out in the pasture under the pecan tree as I type; he's sidelined for the foreseeable future with yet another "ouchie" as Jackson calls it. Just through the thick part of his left hind heel bulb, it's an odd place for a cut. Every time he put weight on that hind foot (which he does all the time now, thankfully!) it spreads the wound apart. It's healing well, my darlin' husband has done a wonderful job keeping me supplied with all sorts of powders and potions to keep Woodrow on the mend. I'm so thankful to have him--he does all he can to spare me any sort of hurt any time any of our horses are hurt. I tend to be a tad emotional when it comes to the horses, they're like my big four legged babies. I hate feeling helpless when it comes to them, when it's so obvious that they're hurting and don't know how to ask for relief.
As Woodrow makes his way out from under the pecan tree I can't help but smile. As he stood dozing, the other geldings ambled away from him, intent on finding more tender shoots of grass to munch no doubt. When he woke from his nap, he jerked his head up, realizing he stood alone-and he trotted off. No limping, no bobbing of his head or hesitation to stride out across the trap. He's resigned himself to thrusting his head through the fence, stealing bites from our yard of freshly mowed grass....once again, in the shade. He's a happy sort, it's never hard to spot him. Look for the closest shady spot, and you'll find him. He's my faithful steed through and through-I believe he would eat rocks if I offered them from the palm of my hand. A short whistle and a "Ro Ro...come on!" will bring him to the barn lot as fast as he's comfortable with. It never fails to bring a smile to my face, he's as predictable as the day is long. When it comes to matters of the feed bucket and his belly, make no mistake, that feed in the trough is worth all the grass in the pasture to him! He's always up for one more bite of whatever it is that you might have...
And he's not above lipping at pockets for treats! He learned quickly that Jackson will bring treats just as long as he would stand at the gate with his head down where Jackson could pet him. I love to watch Jackson with the geldings. All four of them become different guys when he comes around...their heads drop, ears come up, and for a minute or two they even stop their fighting. Looking for apple flavored horse treats, bites of carrot and pieces of cattle cake are all that's on their minds when the little man is around.