ok…well - …hmmm

I was link surfing and came across a post that prompted me to leave a comment. The post was on a very popular site that has a large readership.  The writer had debated writing about the recent death of her grandfather…

“…Speaking of memoir…I normally really follow the biggest rule of memoir writing on here, and that is to never write about shit you’re going through right in the middle of the going through it. This is because you run the risk of sounding like a crazy person for one and secondly because to tell a truly good story and to make your life into a story and not just a ranting diary entry, you need some time to reflect and get a sense of distance from the events. You have to think about what happened after the whole thing is over and then you’ll gain insight and depth about the situation….”

I left the following comment:

“I was 33 yrs old with a new baby when my husband was killed in a car wreck. 6 days after his death I started writing. It became my therapy - a place to leave the stuff that got too heavy to carry. Saved my life and my sanity - probably more so than I even realize.

It makes me sad that someone has advised you (and others) that a first rule of memoir writing is “don’t write about what you’re going through while you’re going through it”. The emotional journey - happiness, grief, anger - is as important as the resulting wisdom and understanding. It connects your readers, makes you and your life real and palpable.”

This is the reply to my comment:

“Cat, I’m so sorry for what happened to you and I’m glad writing helped you. Writing definitely helps me all the time. I write all sorts of things that no one ever sees and writing is one of the greatest therapeutic tools that there is. However, there are a lot of different kinds of writing and I think the distinction I didn’t make here was between professional, public writing or writing that one intends to publish and writing for one’s private self, such as in a diary. I guess a blog is a diary, but mine isn’t exactly to me because it is public and one of the many things I use it for is to generate material that can eventually evolve into more serious work. Not that a diary can’t be serious work too.

So they teach us when creating writing that is intended as art and for public reading to make sure we have some distance on the events so that we have some perspective and so that we can see more of the whole story. No one ever told me not to write when I’m going through something, just not to write oh dammit. It’s hard to explain. I feel like I’m talking in circles and I don’t want to offend your writing at all, so before I accidentally say something idiotic I’ll just stop.

And you know what? Someone could just as easily argue that Joan Didion wrote her latest memoir right smack in the middle of her grief and no one was telling her she didn’t have the distance.

I think the rules are just general words of advice most of the time.”

hmmm….
I’m not offended or insulted. But there’s something about it …an assumption or undertone -I can’t quite put a descriptive finger on it, but it bugs me - just a little bit.

Sometimes you can’t go home

Most all of the values instilled in me were a derivative of one simple Golden Rule -

“treat others the way you want to be treated”

Other words I was taught to live by -

Keep your word - sometimes it’s all you have to give.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

Most everyone has good in them, look for it.

Always remember - there but for the grace of God goes you.

Compassion.

Empathy.

Don’t adopt the opinions of others, form your own through experience and interaction.

…honesty, integrity, forgiveness, faith, honor, and love.“  I always thought those words described my grandparents - both of them. I thought all those “words to live by” were mantras both of them lived by. The amount of respect and pride I held for them was enormous - iconic almost.

I’ve never felt so let down or disappointed in someone as I am by my grandpa right now.

I gave him my word that as long as he’s alive, I won’t take Hannah away from here. Were it not for that, I’d be house shopping in Wichita Falls right now.

I’ll honor my promise and stay in this area, but I can’t stay here, in this house, on his land. I’m not even sure anymore if this is where I want to spend the rest of my life as I’d planned.

For 4 1/2 years I’ve lived to show him I can become a better person, someone he can respect and be proud of.

The reality is, in his eyes, I will always be the mistakes I’ve made.

I guess you can’t always “go home.”

Forever home (not so much)

I thought this would be the last stop on the list of places I’d call home. Now I find myself pressured to move on.

wanted to write more about it but I can’t right now - I’m angry and hurt, but most of all - disappointed.

finally - an update

I’m still alive.

If anyone still stops by here - I’m really sorry it’s been so long between updates. I really haven’t had anything interesting or newsworthy to post about - hence the span between postings.

Hannah’s playing T-Ball -

and riding her horse.

me……..

Chad (the kindergarten sweetheart) and I got back together 2 weeks after I walked away. I know…. -I was certain he was seeing someone else. In a nutshell - I was wrong (and not because I needed to be to justify (to myself) getting back together). I really was wrong. Thank God he’s forgiving - and understanding about the “Rick craziness” when it rears it’s head.

I’m truly happy.

And we’re good together.

Echo

Echoes of Jet (Echo),  Hannah’s new horse and the newest member of our family.  (my horse) Bullet’s in love.
echoe.jpg

hannahandecho2.jpg

We’re already planning to breed her to one of these 2 studs next season:

Romeo Blue

romeo3.jpg

or

WR Shining Solano

shiningsolano.jpg

Found!

Finally - after a year and a half of browsing literally 1000’s of online ads, miles and miles of driving and burning money on fuel - we found a horse for Hannah yesterday!!!!!!!!!

Her name is Echoes (short for Echoes of Jet). She’s a 10 yr old AQHA (registered Easy Jet bloodlines) mare. And only 36 miles away in Wichita Falls. We tried her out on Sunday (even Hannah rode her). Bringing her home on Wednesday.

Her background - At 4 yrs old she was rescued from a neglectful owner and placed with Whispering Hope Farm as a lesson horse. Whispering Hope is a riding program for children with severe mental and physical disabilities. Which means she had to have a “bombproof” nature to be trusted for the kids to ride.

From there she went to the people who have her now. They bought her for their 7 yr old daughter to show in Western Pleasure, Showmanship, and Reining. She’s absolutely gorgeous! Most importantly - Hannah LOVED her.

kind of an odd coincidence - her color and markings are identical to my very first horse.

She just couldn’t be any more perfect.

Here’s a pic -

echoes.jpg

I’m so excited (and relieved).

Didn’t act on it, but-

thanks to a situation a couple hours ago, I know my temper runs as hot now and takes as long to cool as it always has.

wow. and yikes. : s

addendum:  I guess the upside is knowing I have more self & temper control now, than ever in the past.

Surroundings were the biggest keeper of control, as bitch slapping someone in the middle of Hannah’s grade school carnival is an absolute no -under any circumstances -  period.

Cowboy Friends

10 yrs ago, when I lived in Wichita Falls (pop. 150,000), 90% of my friends were ropers or ranch cowboys.

We’re trying that horse at 11 tomorrow morning. He’s been saddled 18 times, ridden 15 times - but that was before last Thanksgiving.

There was a time when I didn’t think twice about climbing on a green/un-broke horse. My grandpa used to tell his horse trader buddies, “if you can get a saddle on it, she can ride it.” I did eat my share of dirt, but for the most part, he was right.

I’m as good a rider now as I was then, BUT - I’m a lot older now and have responsibilities that won’t afford cracked ribs or broken bones. For that reason, I’m not as eager these days to climb in the middle of a possible bronc.

Been racking my brain for the last couple days, trying to think of someone who could go with us and try the horse out. Here I am, now living in the middle of horse and ranch country, and I don’t know a single horseman. Go figure….

…if you think about it, around 11:30 tomorrow morning, cross your fingers and say a little prayer - that’s probably about the time my butt will hit the saddle. and hopefully it’ll stay there. : s

Blue Boy

Going to look at (and probably buy) him this weekend.

rascal.jpg

I still have the horse I bought last year but he’s turned out to be gentle enough for Hannah so giving him to her.

This horse - if any of you know bloodlines, his are:

Leo San, Grey Badger, Doc Bar Puro’s Linda, Joe Duhon, Blondy’s Dude, Thirsty’s Boy, Peppy, Poco Bueno, McCue, Joe Hancock, Wimpy, & Shoemaker.

Best of the best.

And the price - I asked twice because I thought it was a typo.

yep - I’m doing the happy dance!

Gut Feelings & Bigger Truths

Gut Feelings

When things were so bad between Rick and me, I always knew when he was fucking up. I always got the same feeling in my gut, like it was being twisted and turned inside out. There were times I let my mind convince me something was going on, then found that I’d been wrong. But my gut - never. Not once - not even one time, was the gut wrong. Rick told me once that it wasn’t ‘natural’ for a person to know things the way I did sometimes. And when I got that feeling about someone else - he heeded it as though God himself had whispered it in his ear.

When I felt that gut thing a couple weeks ago, I let it ride awhile. Rick’s been gone and I’ve been outside that lifestyle over 4 years now. Maybe it was nothing, -or something just triggered old demons…

I tried to work through it but it only got worse.

Real fast I realized - something or nothing - that place I was in, was and is not a place I’m ready to live in again. The questions, suspicions, - justified or not, what they do to your mind and relationship SUCKS. For that reason, I ended the relationship. I’d rather be alone than deal with the mental misery.

I’ve since learned it was the right thing to do because my suspicions were confirmed. My gut is still as accurate as it’s ever been. : (

After ending relationship and before I learned my gut was right - I thought a lot about me, why I do the things I do…

That’s when I saw a (not so pretty) Bigger Truth -

At the slightest hint something might make me feel like I did when life was so miserable between Rick and I - I run like hell. The fear of going through that again consumes me and I run straight back to Rick. I know he’s dead, but that’s the key:

I know where Rick is all the time.

I will always know where he is, what he’s doing, and most importantly -

I know he will never hurt me…he’s my safe place.

No idea what to do about this little epiphany…but there it is.