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Monday, July 26, 2004
The way things are... and were meant to be...
 
Well, I've sufficiently dried out now, so I can post with clarity once again.

Thank you to all my on-line and IRL friends who dropped me notes to say "suck it up" or "quit being an idiot" in very polite ways. And thank you to my friend Geri who let me know that I'm predictable! Just when I thought I was all over the map! This is comforting in a strange and identifiable way. See, I get a little mopey and piney like I did the other night and I emailed an old (boy)friend. Apparently there is a pattern here, because Geri 'knew' I'd do that.

a) she's a very perceptive person to begin with
b) if I'm predictable, then not only am I following a path... I can change directions if I want to

Let me clarify a few things. Yes, I know that I do not need someone of the opposite gender in my life. I don't think I've ever said I needed that. (note to self: read back in the archieves and make sure you aren't fibbing here) I have said I wanted it. And it's like that Tim Horton's Maple dipped donut that's sitting in front of me when I'm on a diet.

My head says "you don't need that, you can do without it" and my heart is beating around in my chest like a caged bird saying "yeah but it would be sooo yummy!"

I am a hopeless romantic. Absolutely 100% incurable. To even try and cure me would change my chemical make-up I think. And I like being this way. I believe in the beauty, power, strength of love. I've also had enough reality to know you can't survive on love and that it does not fix all of lifes ills. It is, however, beautiful, powerful, and strong.

But what does a hopeless romantic do when she has no object of her affections? This is the wall I continue to flail myself upon. I've been writing a bit more, and may take up the pen and try write some kind of fiction... some kind of romance. I'm thinking that may at least help hold back the tide of wine you all witnessed the other night.

However, having said all of that, I had several moments of clarity today. There were swaths of time, in fact, where I knew all was as it should be.

For example, tonight we had to go catch a mare out in the field next to my house. Her baby had cut itself and I discovered the little gaffer's wound. (score one for me!) Unfortunately I've known this mare for years and she is so incredibly difficult to catch that they leave her halter on all the time, not something we usually do incase she catches it on something.

I brought some alfalfa cubes in a bucket and lured her close to me. Mares like this one are smart. She sees the rope in my hand, and she can hear me opening the clasp. She will stand just close enough to eat the cubes, but her head sways far enough away whenever I try to get within a foot of her head.

So for 15 minutes I found myself in a battle of patience with myself. She stood, head low to the ground. I was on all fours, crouching as low as I could. She was inches away, the bucket just between us. The idea was to slide my arm under her chin a quarter inch at a time with the clasp of the lead shank open and ready to snag the ring on the bottom of her halter.

I'd move an inch, she'd move an inch away. Her baby is staring, ears pricked and curious.. wondering just what in the heck this human is doing almost laying on the ground. Baby horses like things smaller than they are, so I'm trying to ward off little nuzzles of affection from it.

This mare knew what I wanted. Her old brown eyes watched my every breath. Finally I had my chance and in one not-so-quick movement I clipped onto her halter. She sighed.

The happiness I felt just then was so rewarding! The entire ordeal of discover and capture had taken an hour. And anyone who has had to walk down a horse that doesn't want to be caught knows the frustration and the temptation. But I was good dammit.

I walked her to the barn and smiled the whole way. I felt complete, walking past my house where my son was asleep and into the warm comfort of the barn on a gorgeous summer night. The sounds of the horses shuffling and sighing in their stalls. The barn cat winding around my legs. It was all perfect. We settled her in for the night and I headed up to my house. My house.

Where my son was sleeping happily and there was food in the fridge. I had a great and wide sense of peace.

And for the rest of the night I've known that I did not want anything else.

 
  The Writing Mother
  posted at 12:31 AM
  1 comments



1 Comments:
At 9:06 PM, Blogger Tiff said...

I think we all have moments like that. I used to be the same way and now I have had a man up my hiney for 10 years and I would kill to have none. LOL! (well, most days) I think the grass always looks greener on the other side but most of the time it isn't. HUGS
Tiff
http://www.xanga.com/home.aspx?user=neuroticfitchmom

 

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