Onward and Upward

I have a fairly high I.Q. and an aptitude for language and social sciences. I can talk to educated people or I can talk like the most uneducated redneck in the bunch. I'm a social chameleon of sorts in that I am comfortable with all different groups of people and I soak up knowledge like a sponge. I love to learn. In my library you will find everything from foal imprinting to a book outlining evidence that Hitler did not die when history says he did. My literary taste is broad and insatiable, I devour anything regarding psychology. 

My secret dear reader is that the "language" of math is beyond me. I have literally dropped out of school because of math at least three times. It is the only subject I lack to attain a highschool diploma. It is embarrassing to be perfectly honest.

Mini Chaos is having trouble facing school since Tucker has gone on to wait at the Rainbow Bridge and I went in to the local school to discuss the possibility of her redoing a couple classes online, and somehow dear reader I find myself enrolled in grade 10 math and looking at completing my diploma. How did this happen I ponder as I look at the link with dread.

 It's a different world than when I was young and I have to face the fact that a diploma isn't optional anymore, that no matter how intelligent or charismatic or experienced I am, no matter how hard I work, without that paper I'm always going to be struggling uphill. It also opens the door for better opportunities to spend the winter. Instead of waitressing maybe I can find a winter job that makes a difference to someone.    

My palms are sweating and I feel a little faint dear reader but Im about to click the link and wade into a world of BEDMAS and integers. Into the lurch.... 

Catching you Up :)

So I guess I've been a bit of a bad host the last couple months :) Just not a lot of good things happening in Chaos Country this year and I haven't wanted to post all the sad. So I'll give you the sad first Dear Reader and then the exciting stuff.

In October this year we had three straight weeks of freezing rain and the horses began to look a bit rough.
We had an icestorm that knocked the power out and that was scary, scarier still was the fact that I couldn't get to the horses for three days. We had noticed some wolf tracks around and some scuff marks on the horses and unfortunately by the time I got into camp on the Friday the wolves had claimed a victim , Nova had been killed and consumed very quickly. She was a very good horse, all summer she carried tiny humans and was shaping up to be a very good buddy to me. Losing her pushed me right back to square one in trying to heal from losing the horses this spring and honestly I have been kind of hiding ever since.

RIP Nova you are deeply loved and missed everyday. 

Of course everyone is familiar with our Tucker. He has taught countless kids about horses and gave Mini Chaos her wings. He is the very embodiment of a spunky little pony even though he is in his twilight years at over 30 years old. Tucker has been a fixture at our place for a very long time. After the freezing rain stopped and about 3 weeks ago I noticed Tucker wasn't quite himself. We put him on a supplement and bought him a heavy blanket and watched him carefully. Tucker started sleeping alot, so much that he started to get scuff marks on his legs, and in a Sunday night I decided he was going in because he just wasn't right. In the middle of the night I checked him and he just wasn't doing well. We lost Tucker an hour before his Dr. appointment and I have to tell you it has rattled our family to the core. He was laid to rest beside his lost "girls" and Grizzly, the colt he was sure was his baby. I have been both encouraged and disgusted by the reaction of people around us. Mini Chaos can't even look at a horse right now and I can't count noses without tearing up. Some people have been amazingly supportive and some people have been cruel. He was more than a horse Dear Reader. He was family. I recognize he was elderly and I should have known he'd leave us some day, it was just so dang fast and I guess that was a blessing for him. It's hard to say goodbye to a partner, a friend, a brother , a son, with no warning. Tucker is forever a part of the fabric of who my children will become and we will always miss him.

Tucker and Mini Chaos teaching a lesson

Tucker and Mini Chaos in the Parade in Pierceland

 |RIP Old Man and know that we will be looking for you at the Rainbow Bridge.

Now I promised you some good news.

You will remember that back in April when the horses were destroyed we had two weanling foals that we fought to keep and started out  bottling. Clarabelle, and Cocoa. I am over joyed to tell you dear reader that both foals are EIA negative and have been cleared by the CFIA :)

Clarabelle and her Momma, Flicka, on her birthday

That's how it goes dear reader, ups and downs, I'll try to be a better host and not make you wait so long.

Let it Snow.

Most people know I live in a place that has the potential to be fairly isolated. The closest city to me has around 5000 people. I have lived around here for close to nine years and I am fairly used to a coouple things I never had to get used to in southern alberta wheere I hail from. 

First of all after late October -15 c is a warm day. The average is around -20c. Second of all the power goes out. When the power goes out it usually hits all of the small communities within a two hour radius on the Saskatchewan side of the grid, so the closest power is generally in Alberta. 

Most of the time these power outages are a mild annoyance that last an hour or two but occasionally there is serious infrastructure damage and it is out for a long time. Power surges killing appliances is a fact of life around here. 

The first year I lived in the area Tiny But Mighty was still in the seed stage on my birthday and the power was out for ten hours, the big excitement that day happened when I tried to blow out a candle and caught my piano on fire. 

The last couple of days have been a bit interesting in our area. 

As I have mentioned previously we have had a ton of rain this year but it came late. Sunday morning it started raining, then it started snowing, and by supper time the snow was easily half a foot deep. The snow was heavy and wet and slushy and before too long the roads were impassable. This is fine, I mean into every life some rain must fall. I was supposed to go to work and I knew there was no way I was even going to get to the highway. We adjusted. We had a meal, played cards, kept warm and dry. Mama Chaos and Big Chill drove back to their house three blocks away in the dakota of doom and only had to be dug out a few times :) . 

Sunday night as we all slept the power went out. 

At first it was no big deal, it happens all the time, unfortunately our home has clean and convenient propane heat which dear reader needs power to work. TBM and I grabbed out ipads and stayed snuggled in the bedroom, which stayed about ten degrees warmer than the rest of the house probably due to the slumbering pack of "wolves" live there with us. I grumbled as I pulled the blankets around me about the weather and the fact that it is just way too early for this. I phoned my manager who told me not to worry about coming in since we really cant do business without power. 

The morning passed and I went into the kitchen to make lunch at which point I realised the house was actually cooling off pretty rapidly. I phoned Government Utility and they said the crews had been working most of the night and all morning but the damage was very extensive and it would still be awhile. I began to feel a bit concerned. 

My local friends started posting photos of damages on social media and I peered out my window at the towering trees in my yard and said a prayer that they wouldn't succumb to the storm and come crashing through the roof. I though briefly about an ice storm in Ontario some years ago where the power was out or days and the temperature plummeted and people died in their homes waiting, as we were, for the power to come back on.  

I thought about how messy wood heat is and looked at the skim of ice in my toilet bowl. I was cold dear reader and TBM was cold and bored and sick of hiding under the blankets playing on her ipad. 

At 2 pm the power flicked on for just long enough to give hope and then snatch it away, and I prayed thankful that it wasnt actually cold outside, only -1 or -2 c. The dogs begged to go out and Im sure they couldnt understand why they were staying in so late. I took tyhe dogs out and fed the animals and waited and I must tell you I was becoming genuinely concerned for those with elders and young children in their homes and for us too. If the temperature dropped significantly over night this could become a very tragic story.. 

At 4pm the power started flipping on and off... the lights flickered and several bulbs burned out as I dashed around the house turning them off and unplugging televisions and toasters. Finally around 4:30 the outage was over and I was able to reset the furnace and begin my day. I spent the rest of the afternoon looking at wood fireplaces. 

I am going to say right here and now how much I appreciate the people who got up Monday morning and fixed several kilometers of power grid to restore power before it got cold last night. I am grateful for the people in the call center answering questions and taking the brunt of peoples' frustrations. I am grateful for the repair staff who risk their lives tromping through the forrest to cut trees off of downed lines and put them back together. The communities around here are small but combined there were probably ten thousand people sitting in the dark, waiting. 

Today I am shoveling my car out and the world is back to normal but it sure made me think. Some people couldn't get gas, some people couldn't get groceries. I was reminded that I need to keep the shelves stocked and the car full because the amenities we take for granted are not guaranteed. 

On that note dear reader, I'm off to town to get groceries and fuel and to work :) I pray you all are safe and warm and that you know where the candles are. ;) 

And a side of fries please....

Last night was a normal Thursday night. I left work after my shift, drove home to pick up Tiny But Mighty for her piano lesson. After piano we got groceries, so at 7:15 we had not eaten and were still in town. I decided to go to the big chain chicken fast food place.

The line at the drive thru was a bit long but that is to be expected in a small community when the restaurant is cooking chicken. Cooking chicken takes time right? 

There was a white truck in front of me in the drive thru that kept reversing, then turning the truck off etc. I waited in line about fifteen minutes and honestly didn't think much about it, until I got to the window. When I got to the window I realized that the man who had been in the truck in front of me was inside the store. I was horrified to see him raging around the room and threatening the staff, even going so far as to follow one woman into the kitchen while screaming at her and slamming things. I looked up at the youth in the window and said "I'm phoning the police." The young man looked quite pale as he nodded and said "Please." 

I called 911 and as I was giving my information I told the operator " I will stay on the phone but they need someone now." TBM observed the whole thing quietly and upon hearing me through the window telling the police what was happening the man fled. 

Here is the point I wish to make dear reader. This man waited in line at a fast food restaurant drive thru that serves only chicken for fifteen minutes. To a reasonable person this would be an indication that they were cooking a fresh batch of chicken right? This person believed that because he was unhappy with how long he waited he had the right to not just complain but to terrorize the staff in this business. He believed it was ok to behave so violently and so aggressively that he scared my daughter outside of the building in my vehicle.....because he had to wait for his food to be properly and safely cooked. Now I am sure this is not an everyday occurrence and I myself have gone into a fast food place from the drive thru because I was unhappy with my order or the service, but those are people working in there. Someone's children, parents, siblings, and you made them feel unsafe and you threatened them .... over chicken. The minimum wage is under debate ini my province and our neighbors to the west and I see memes on facebook and the internet all the tiem making fun of service industry workers and saying they don't deserve more money. Let me be perfectly clear here. 

The minimum wage was set in order to guarantee fair treatment for workers and minimum wage earners are in jobs ( such as gas station attendant or food service) where they tend to suffer abuse, robbery and violence far more that your average office worker, professional, or oilfield worker. Ironically the people complaining about the minimum wage increase are the people who can afford to pay an extra fifty cents for a burger. 

What kind of world do we live in when we treat the people who serve us like trash, like non humans? Would this man treat his wife or mother this way because his meal wasn't ready upon demand? Those people got treated that way and terrorized and in compensation they received less than the cost of a meal. What kimd of world indeed. 

Rain Rain Go Away...

We all hear people say it every year "farmers need the rain though". This year the rain came late. The rain came so late dear reader and so much that many farmers still have crop in the field at this moment, nearly two months after normal harvest is done.

How does this effect things you may ask as you fill your shopping cart in a well lit city supermarket...
This year dispite there being lots of grass people like myself are concerned about where they will get hay, cattle guys worry about whether the hay they have will keep and whether it will be nutritional sufficient for their herds.

Grain farmers are watching the seeds they set out to harvest sprout and then get frost killed.

It is a poignant illustration of what too much of a good thing can do. The worst part is we have no control over the weather. Every fall I literally go without sleep waiting for the hay to come. So far it always has dear reader but a few years ago I read about horses abandoned on a trail because they ran out of supplies and couldn't (or wouldn't?)  get them out. They left them to die. I can't understand it to be honest.

Here's hoping those around me can get their crop into the bin before the season ending snow hits.

Clear the streets! :P

So yesterday Mini Chaos got her learners permit. To be completely honest dear reader I find it a small amount... completely terrifying. Not her driving by any means, she has been driving around the farm since she was nine years old.

The scary part is the fact that she is growing up. She is fifteen and pretty much master of her domain :) She is beautiful, confident, intelligent, sassy and almost totally outgrown her Momma. A drivers licence means so many things to a young person, freedom, responsibility, a future, but to me it just means my baby is going to leave me.

This is where I geet conflicted. On the one hand I am enormously proud. On the other Im sad to be left behind.

We make our kids the center of the world from the moment they are born and it is kind of scary to have to be a person again and find purpose again. Wish me luck dear reader and I will keep letting you know what I learn :)

Pit Bulls

So for the last few weeks I have been reading about a proposed ban of "pitbulls" in Montreal.A ban that passed yesterday. I find the whole thing unsettling and upsetting. ||The thing is for years I have heard and seen the dog world opposing breed specific legislation ( BSL) because it doesn't work. In the 70s German Shepherds were the dogs to fear on tv and movies, then dobermans and Rottweilers, heck even St. Bernards took a turn at being hated and feared ( thanks to Cujo)  and then sometime mid 90s it was pitbulls. The hype around "pitbulls" has lasted alot longer. I have had several bullie type dogs as well as all of the most hated breeds for the last 50 years, in fact literally hundreds of dogs have passed through my doorway on the way to better homes in the last decade. I have had problems with many of them. A labradoodle killed a bunch of rabbits, a Coton De Tulear attacked my five year old, a husky mixed killed puppies, I could go on and on. I have never had major behavior problems with a pitbull.

Pitbulls arent even a breed in actuality., they are a type of breed. The pitbull ban is like saying they are banning all green vegetables. It is frustrating to watch so many innocent lives be lost.

All of that said I am not saying there isnt a problem. People in general do not train dogs the way they used to. Dogs used to be a huge part of the work day and a hugely important part of survival and success. for the most part people do not include their animals in their livelihood and we compartmentalize our lives.

Our family for the most part does not understand what we do for a living and we are taught very strictly to leave our personal life at home.

People do not understand each other, our environment, our pets, our world, as we once did, and the people who maintain the connection to the natural world are generally viewed as odd.  People say all of the time "my dog is family" but then they expect the dog to behave like a tiny spoiled human and they are so shocked when the dog displays dog like behavior. Its disrespectful to be honest.

Dogs have a complex and intricate social structure and a whole language they speak using their bodies , ears, tails and faces. Over simplifying this is a mistake. It is dangerous to both people and ultimately to the dog.

I think people SHOULD have to take a knowledge test to own a dog. It makes sense to me. ANY dog.

PEOPLE should have to be taught how to interact with their dog in public and how to guide others into APPROPRIATE interaction with your dog.

Dogs are amazing but it is our job to teach them how to read people and how to react properly.

I don't have the answers dear reader I just know that we are in for a long hard fight not only in Montreal but everywhere and not just to save the "pitbull" but to preserve the partnerships that have existed between humans and animals for time everlasting.

Here Kitty Kitty

Some may remember that the Chaos family relocated last year into town. The horses reside on land that belongs to a dear friend where we also hold horse camp every year.

 Peaches the potbelly pig goes back and forth with me, when I am at camp, Peaches is at camp, when I am at the house in town, Peaches is in the living-room. When we moved we had five cats, Deidre, who is old and blind and possibly deaf, Ezmerelda, also advanced in years, Hera, three year old Ragdoll with litter box issues, Phoenix, who I found drowning in the pit when I worked at the landfill, and Sebastian who also came from the landfill and turned out to be female.

Somehow last Christmas Mini Chaos managed to convince me to get two kittens, half siblings, Sarge, long haired marmalade tabby, and Cleo, black short haired female. Today I took them into town to be fixed.

These cats are now around ten months old and I was pretty shocked to find out Sarge ( Sargent Pepper of course because what else do you name a giant orange cat.)is 11 pounds. That is very large in my opinion for an adolescent cat. Cleo, who is his half sibling and only a week younger is six pounds.

It's amazing to me how a creature can go from a little four oz ball of fluff to eleven pounds in less than a year. Like really, Mini Chaos started out a squirming four pound ten oz ball of pink fury and now she is practically grown. It makes you think about things and what they are and what they could be :) Anyway that is today's rambling dear reader.  I hope today finds you happy :)

Goodbye says it all.

Yesterday we interred my Uncle Bear to his final resting place. Even though je has been gone for sometime, I feel his loss as strongly today as I did barrelling down highway 2 as fast as I dared trying to get there in time. I remember just getting past Airdrie and the phone ringing, the complete devastation of finding out only 20 mins away I was too late. Even now years later it takes my breath away. It was a bit overwhelming.

My uncle was a second dad, brother and best friend all of my growing up years and now dear reader I have realized I'm 41 and my family is disappearing before my very eyes. This cowgirl is feeling more than a little alone in the world today to be totally honest, but as I drive home I think about my legacy and what mark I leave on the world.

Right at this moment if I left the world I would leave five amazing people that made their start within my body. My animals, the horse program which hopefully someone would keep going and a lot of years of trying so hard to love more than I hate. Is that enough? I dont know for sure. It sure makes a girl think and want to make each day count.

She won't come to me...

As most know we suffered a terrible loss this spring. One of the horses we lost was Star a beautiful Arabian mare that was my partner for fourteen wonderful years. I was crushed beyond words and to be honest I craved nothing more than to follow them into oblivion.Especially Star.

Star September 2011

 Truly dear reader I battled with thoughts of self destruction of epic proportions.

A week after the last day with my best friend someone decided that the best way to help me find the will to live was to find me a horse I could connect with, one that would have the kind of bond with me I had with Star. 

Nova July 2016

They found me Nova who looks and acts remarkably like my dear old friend and literally follows me around the pasture like I am another horse. |She is a real babysitter and is worth her weight in gold when it comes to teaching children about horses. The last few weeks she has been losing weight. I tried diet changes, taking her away from the herd in case she was getting picked on. Nothing seemed to help so we took her to the vet to have her teeth checked etc. The vet floated her teeth and checked her over and we brought her home. |

There are wolves in our area and I lost both my donkeys this spring so needless to say I get a little nervous when a horse is sick. On Sunday I was off work and I was out getting things pinned down for winter at camp when I noticed Nova wasn't with the herd. It was raining pretty good and I had to run a couple of time sensitive errands so I hustled to town and back and started the search. There are 3 fairly serious coulees in the pasture and we started with the steepest. a million scenarios ran through my mind. She fell, the wolves got her, stolen?  

For the better part of two hours I searched. 

Lily is a Percheron x QH that I bought a few days after Nova, she is sweet and personable and just came back from three months of training with Cute and Sassy Cowgirl. ( seriously if you need a trainer check this girl out) Lily was following along as I searched for Nova calling as I went. Please understand dear reader that as a rule, when I call Nova comes. She knows her name and my voice and is usually at the gate. 

After 2 hours of searching I started to cry. I was sure that my horse was dead and my heart would never beat again. When I started to cry Lily reacted very strongly. I choked on my tears now screaming Nova's name in the pouring rain, very dramatic I can assure you and were it a movie I know there would be a lump in the throats of all watching. Lily spun around and ran screaming back to the herd about halfway back to camp, holed up in the bush in the middle coulee. She screamed over and over and as she did, no word of a lie, my herd disappeared into the bush, then burst out with Nova in front. The horses ran right up to me and stood around smelling me to see if I was ok and they stood around like a protective bunch of siblings as I hugged Nova and wept with relief into her mane. I don't have to tell you dear reader how that moment felt. It is amazing to me how Lily knew I was losing hope and I needed her help and also that so quickly the new horses have settled in and accepted me. 

Truly if you want to know where you stand with this cowgirl you need to count horses then add one. ;) 

Old Dogs, Children and Watermelon Wine

Ok so here is the thing, at this present time eleven dogs and six people live in my house. Of those dogs six are over the age of six some are already showing their age and my Great pyrenese mix, Angus is turning thirteen at Christmas. Old dogs are great dogs, they already know a lot about how the world works and you can trust them with more because they are wise :) Old dogs are also stubborn and set.I have given up on teaching most of my dogs new things or correcting "undesirable" behaviors for the most part. Angus counter surfs and steals the butter, it is just one of his "isms" at this point and it is much easier to simply put the butter away than it is to change Angus. Keeper hates sharing her food bowl so she gets her own. Sundance won't eat in front of people so we simply give her space. They each have their own old dog habits that over time we accepted. The younger dogs are a different story, they have yet to earn the right to be crotchety and eccentric.

Two of the people in my house are my children, Mini Chaos and Tiny But Mighty and I   think somehow we apply the same rule of thumb to them , MC is in highschool now and she is looking for her identity and who she will be in the world and TBM still has to do as she is told because she is still learning. 

I was thinking about this today as I watched my elderly friend stretch out across the couch ( something the younger dogs are NOT allowed to do) and I listened to TBM argue her case for ice cream for breakfast. I suppose it isn't fair but it is what it is :) 

Absence makes the heart grow..... fonder?

Well dear reader another summer in the books... Some of you may have noticed my absence from the world wide web as I am basically as low tech and bushed as it gets all summer, not to mention being at a dead run sun up ( 6 am) til sun down (11pm) most days.

We had some amazing young people out at horse camp not to mention making some great new friends.  I bought a pile of horses this summer, most of which are "someday" horses in need of training or medical care in order to realize their potential.

Fortunately I met Cute and Sassy Cowgirl from K Bar D Equine ( check her out here https://www.facebook.com/K-Bar-D-Equine-Massage-and-Horse-Training-265890410418064/?fref=ts )
and she has been doing some incredible work for us.

We had a lot of helping hands this year including Charming and Bubbly cowgirl, who brought apples for treats and made Mini Chaos the happiest lil cowgirl ever by letting her buy Zeus, a bay gelding the child loved on sight, and Hands of Gold Cowgirl who introduced this busted up cowgirl to the wonders of massage and helped out with ye ol' lesson program most of the camp season.

Mama Chaos moved in this year too along with my brother, The Big Chill, and have been really helping out around the house and with the critters as I start the working to buy hay season again.

I managed to land a steady gig in a retail store and that is going fine as frog's fur.

Anyway dear reader that's the catch up edition, you should see me more from now until the snow melts :)

Yours Truly

Cowgirl Chaos

Too Fat To Fly

So yesterday my very good friend Fit and Athletic Cowgirl came to help ride horses. Mini Chaos stayed home to help out and put some time in on horses. The horses were caught tidied up and saddled.

MC started out on Lily, a lovely draft cross mare who hasn't had a lot of riding experience and has been showing that she doesn't really understand what is being asked of her. MC had a bit of a wreck. She wasn't hurt thank goodness except a few bruises.

MC and FAC both took turns riding Dove. I was encouraged so I decided to take a ride.

The horses I have so far acquired are tall, much taller than I am used to. I haven't ridden much this year.
I am not nearly as flexible as I once was and I was completely unable to reach my stirrup. MC tried three different methods to help me up onto the giant tree of a mare. On the third try I finally managed to get my upper torso across the saddle as the rest of my body dangled helplessly. I grunted and groaned and stuggled and squirmed until I got the very tip of my toe into the stirrup. The stirrup flapped around as I tried to get leverage to push myself higher. Dove looked at me with obvious shock, what exactly was wrong with me?!?

Finally I lurched my quivering body atop the mare and I looked down , big mistake. The ground was so far away ... my stomach flipped as I envisioned the sound of my bones crunching as I hit the ground from the sky scraper sized mare. Suddenly I didn't feel good. but I couldn't just bail off the saddle at risk of being shown up by my younger nimbler counterparts.... I stayed atop the behemoth for a few minutes and walked her around a bit for show, then I eagerly dismounted and untacked.

Getting old is hard. Sigh.

Click.

I love horse shopping normally, it's so exciting to look for a new friend and to meet all the new people. Exchanging pictures and talking about all the things the horse has done. It is one of the most exhilarating processes I know.

The last few weeks horse shopping has been anything but fun. When I call about a horse I feel scared. I try to tell the people what I am looking for and why in a fast blurb then I brace for the reaction. 

Most people have been kind and curious and asked about E.I.A. Some people are very judgmental and say things that are cruel. I have had people ask me if I cross needled the horses ( I didn't) and then call me a liar and hang up on me when I said I didn't Some people have E.I.A. and E.H.V. all balled together. Most people don't understand why the control program is so important. 

People freak out when I tell them the horses have to be Coggins tested before I can buy them, even though I agree to pay the full amount they are asking without question and to pay for the test. People don't want to test because they are afraid. 

The majority of people straight hang up on me at that point. Half of the rest try to talk me out of it or try to convince me to test them later when they can no longer be compelled to test if the horse is positive. A tiny handful happily agree to test once the deposit is paid and understand completely. 

At first missing out on horses upset me alot and I questioned whether I was going to be able to find what I was looking for before camp starts. but you know dear reader as the weeks pass I care less and less about missing out on a horse that might work for us because I never ever want to have to massacre my equine family again. I care less about the people who won't sell to me because the fact that those horses aren't tested makes them Schroedingers horses, simultaneously alive and dead. 

My heart is not in horse shopping right now but it has to be done, the horses have to get to know each other and be ready for other peoples' children by July 1. Wish me luck dear reader, my heart is weary. 

My Saddle Horse Has Died....

This blog is one I have been sitting on since February and for good reason.

I sold a horse to buy hay this year. She was a gorgeous sorrel four year old. Oakley. She was born at my house and if not for the fact that I knew she was going to an amazing home with a loving family she would have lived her whole life with me. I was so happy thinking about the long and loving life Oakley was going to have. I loved Oakley. She went to her new home in November and I sat a long time and cried because I knew I was going to miss her horribly.

Oakley July 2015

In February I got a phone call that shattered my whole world. Oakley's new family had had her Coggins test done and she had come back positive. Coggins is the test used to detect Equine Infectious Anemia and a positive result is an immediate death sentence. I cried for Oakley, and I cried because I knew the infection had to come from my herd. I scheduled the tests for all of my beautiful babies and I waited. Let me tell you that waiting was simply awful. A person can't help but speculate where the disease came from or worse how many other horses have been put at risk. My tests came back and the results were even more catastrophic than I expected. 

The veterinarian from the Canadian Food Inspection Agency called me on the Saturday following the test and told me that eleven of the seventeen tested animals had come back positive. He couldn't tell me at the time which individuals were infected. I can honestly tell you that at that moment I wanted nothing as much as I wanted my own life to end. I was going to have to euthanize my babies, my friends, including bred mares, horses I had owned for over a decade, and who knew which ones I had to say goodbye to. I scheduled a meeting with the vet to discuss the results and I took anti anxiety medication and stayed in bed for the next two days. 

The vet showed me the paper with the results as I stared mutely and felt the whole world crash down. 

Norah and Flicka Christmas 2012

 Tiny but Mighty's pony, the one she got for Christmas when she was three, the one who would only listen to her, the one due to have her baby any minute was positive. I thought about my poor baby and trying to explain to her why her friend had to die. I thought about the plucky little miniature and the way she grieved when her baby was killed by a mountain lion in 2013. My eyes filled with tears and I read the next name. 

Eeyore

  Eeyore my brave miniature donkey, protector of all and general tough customer. He had been my baby since he was six months old or so.

 Star... My soul screamed... God no please not Star!! My best friend for fourteen years, a gift from my Dad, my partner, the horse that taught my babies to ride. Please let them be wrong about Star. 

Star 2014

Three names into the list and I couldn't breathe. My entire world literally destroyed at my feet, praying this was just a horrible dream and I would wake up I continued to read the list, each name shattering my heart like a stone throw through a window. Believe me dear reader I would love to type a loving biography of each beautiful soul for you here today but the grief in my heart is simply too great. When the meeting was done the fate of every horse I have ridden in the last fourteen years was sealed. Quarantine papers were signed and life looked pretty bleak from where I was standing. We had to wait for an official diagnosis before the horses could be destroyed so I made it my mission to spend as much time as I could riding them, loving them and imprinting them in my memory before I had to say goodbye. 

I faced the gruesome task of proving their worth to people who didn't know them.I also decided that they were not going to die for no reason.I learned everything I could about this disease and how to make sure I never have to do this again.  I looked up horses of similar quality to my beautiful babies and to be totally honest I didn't find a single one, because horses like mine are the kind you keep for a lifetime. Sweet gentle child friendly horses with months of professional training. You just cant walk out the door and find that. 

Finally two weeks ago I could prolong my time with them no longer. The CFIA vets came out and started putting my beautiful herd to rest. We did Star first because she was starting to show signs of actually being ill and I couldnt stand to see her hurt for one second longer than she needed to. One by one I held their heads as they left this world, ten beautiful souls in total and the entire fruit of my life's work. 

Lots of people have asked where the infection came from and we have narrowed down when they became infected and the possible source. I am very relieved that the chances that it left my herd are extremely slim. 

I have decided to make mandatory testing my mission. I never want anyone to lay in their bed afraid to close their eyes for fear of seeing the knees of their best friend buckle as she sank to the ground for the last time, or the seizure of a mare who was allergic to the medication, or Eeyore who fought until his last breath to live and looked up at me with eyes full of betrayal and hurt. My horses where the lucky ones. The disease was detected early and I never allowed them to suffer. Animals who are dying of this disease suffer beyond description. The only way to prevent this disease is routine testing and aggressive culling policies. Please test. Not just for the health of your own animals but to make sure we aren't continuing to spread this disease. 

Blood and Roses

So you all know I live in northern Saskatchewan in the forest. This morning on the way to drive the kids to school I saw something moving out of the corner of my eye. I froze when I realized it was Sasquatch. He was holding candy and flowers and was very disappointed when I explained that although my appearance was deceiving I was not a female Bigfoot . I think I may have seen a tear in his eye as he slowly turned and melted back into the trees. 

This experience in mind, I decided some personal time was in order. I collected the trappings of "beauty" and headed to the bathroom. 

I posted a ton of stuff on social media as I waited for the tub to fill then climbed into the tub. Just as I started shaving my....knees..... my phone starts to have a seizure of epic proportions, falls on the floor and scares me half to death. I jump a good three feet and cut a chunk out of my ...knees... A chunk I was quite attached to... So I'm sorry guy I won't be taking you to the bath with me anymore especially when I shave my ...knees.. In fact I'll probably switch to airplane mode :s

My Friend Misery....

How we deal with stress is a huge part of who we are. The nicest person in the world can become a total monster under enough stress. I find that as I get older it takes less and less to turn me from Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde.

I'm not ready to talk about the reason I am stressed but suffice it to say I feel like a grenade in a garbage can. That got me thinking about stress and how I handle it.

When I was young I got drunk, danced and partied and usually got into a fight. When I quit drinking I failed to find a good way to disperse the adrenaline and pressure from stress and thus I have had ongoing issues with anxiety and anger.

I hate the feeling of being out of control, either angry or happy, I hate when I cant channel my feelings or at least see the good in something. I'm trying to cope with a huge horrible life event dear reader and I am struggling not to turn it inwards and destroy myself.

I am not sure yet how I will manage it but I will let you know as things unfold. Right now I have been taking steps ( in case anyone was worried) So comment, I need suggestions, how do you deal with stress?

Here comes Peter Cottontail...

I'm not sure if you have figured it out yet but I'm not a very organized parent, and I over extend myself regularly. Most of the time I am frazzled and hurried.

This weekend I worked and my children stayed at home under the watchful eye of friends. As I was getting ready my daughter of seven years looked up and said , "Mama, if you are going to work does that mean the Easter Bunny is dead?" Interesting choice of words little one.

When Mini Chaos was born I decided not to lie to her. We never had Santa presents and every Christmas we talked about the birth of Christ and winter solstice and pagan rituals that have become our "Christian" traditions. No Easter bunny came but beautiful children's books about the redemptive love of Jesus.

When Tiny-But-Mighty came along I had lost some of my zeal. I had been hurt horribly by a pastoral experience, I was tired and I missed the magic in my life. I still won't lie to my child but I find myself indulging in some fantasy now and then. TBM is just the kid that needs a little magic in her life if that makes sense.

I was feeling a little remorseful about not realizing it was Easter and planning for it. I mentioned the whole thing to my friend, who also happens to employ me. She was so kind dear reader and I wish I could express all the emotion and gratitude I am feeling, because she gave me an Easter basket for my wild eyed little dreamer. Another friend picked my children up and took them to the family meal with the family I have adopted as my own now that I live so far away from my blood relations.

TBM smiled at me as she clutched the tiny stuffed rabbit and wind up chick from the Easter basket, her tummy full of turkey and chocolate and said,"I'm glad the Easter bunny is your friend Mama."

I'm glad too little one.  

Here Pig, Pig ,Pig

I have a potbelly pig in the house. Her name is Peaches. She is one of the sweetest most loving creatures on planet earth. There is one completely irritating thing Peaches does. She screams. When the kids are playing, when she is hungry and I walk towards the kitchen, when I sit next to her and I am not touching her but most often when I am watching a suspenseful program and it gets to the climax. Just as they start to announce the killer, or unmask the villain peaches screams as though a blood thirsty wolf has suddenly materialized inside her bed.

 I love my little thirty-five pound bundle of neurotic cuteness but those moments I start to think about bacon. I swear dear reader it has been driving me insane for months. Pause the program, wait for the pig to settle down, turn it back on only for her to become just as agitated within seconds.

I'm a fairly intelligent person but until today I couldn't figure it out. Today it finally dawned on me what the trigger is. The background music scares my pig. Picture if you will a grown woman turning the volume off and switching to closed captioning in order to get through an episode of Criminal Minds. Lucky for her I love her.

Pour me, another shot of whiskey....

Yesterday was frustrating, stressful and upsetting. I have to get the horses feet trimmed, I have mares about to foal any day, I have an annual vet visit coming on Tuesday that even though it should be fine, always causes me anxiety.

Tiny-but-mighty cowgirl is currently homeschooling so before we could go anywhere, her studies had to be done and I had to convince her to leave the cocoon of the home. Not as simple as it sounds dear reader and I was in frustrated tears more than once.

 First I had to get help to get into the place where the horses are kept because it snowed heavy thick wet snow after raining for a few days , our weather has been bizarre to say the least this year. I HATE asking people for help. I would rather pierce my skin with fish hooks, and I have an irrational fear of fish hooks . In my experience people who help you use it to stab you dead later or they get grumpy and make sure you know how inconvenient you are. Not all people by any means but I am a kenestetic (sp?) person and those are the feelings I associate with help, anger frustration, guilty and disappointment.

Fortunately yesterday I had help. Upon arriving at the pasture I called and my horses obediently trudged into the area, thank goodness. I went to go and pull the needed equipment out of the shed and realized both myself and mini Chaos had forgotten our Tackshed key... I guess the cowgirl apple doesn't fall far from the tree. I managed to find a screwdriver and remove the hasp so we could gain access to the shed.

I was relieved to be into the shed, with people waiting around to help with the work of the day. I was almost happy and encouraged as I dragged out halters, pails, and the farrier box. Others were working at catching my donkey, Daphne, who is savage to trim and has to be tranquilized, and other horses to trim in order of how much they need it done. I opened my tool box of tricks and my heart sank. No nippers. I remember seeing them before I moved, in July and I know they have been used a couple times since but I have no idea where they could be.

I am not exaggerating when I tell you that was it for me. I sat ten minutes in the snow crying , thanked my friends for trying to help the hopeless and let the horses out. I posted on social media asking for prayer replaced the lock on the shed and went to town to buy new nippers.

I quit drinking a long time ago but last night as I crawled in the door exhausted and defeated I wanted to drink. I didn't drink though. I put Tiny-But-Mighty to bed, read her a story and cuddled with my pig on the couch. Good days aren't the victory dear reader, bad days are.

I'm not racist but...

There is an attitude in the air like a sticky hot summer day and you can't escape from it. No matter where I go or what I do it follows me. It wounds my heart it ways I can't define and some days it is so powerful and overwhelming I literally weep in the dark until I am spent.

The blatant ugliness of racism or racial prejudice is like murky black water that swallows me. My family is biracial and my oldest children even more so. It is strange how people assume from your skin that you are going to agree with their opinions and biases. The other day a woman ranted at length to me about not wanting to go into a local business because of the "Indians" in said establishment. I promise you dear reader that I did not act upon the feelings this conversation gave me, for the most part because I was working and I needed to maintain decorum. I did however vibrate with frustration and indignation as I thought of all the beautiful and loving Native people I know including family members and my sweet beautiful boys.

Over time I have become calloused to the statements that elderly people make about hating this nationality or that , what ever particular group is in vogue to hate and this is wrong. No one is old enough to hate with out consequence. When I hear people in their youth regurgitating this horrible poison it infuriates me beyond reason. Why do the elderly get a free hate pass? How can we stop the hate?

Hate isn't limited to any particular race, social group, class or type of person.

What if we made diversity part of education? What if we taught history from both sides of the conflict and did away the the antagonist? What if instead of heroes and villains in human history we had people who did their best with the information they had?

My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys....

I grew up chaotic. When I was seven I went to stay with my dad for the summer. We went to a rodeo and I fell in love with the raffle pony. His name was Ratchet. He was grumpy, kicky and bad tempered.He was palomino and my absolute dream. My Dad had a bit of a thing for the girl running the raffle so he bought me two dozen tickets.

I didn't win the pony and I was devastated. My Dad tracked down the family that did win the pony and arranged to rent him for me for the rest of the summer. I loved that pony. I brushed him and rode around on him all day everyday. I fed him and watered him and at the end of the summer I cried bitterly as he was loaded onto the trailer to spend his life as a pasture buddy for another horse. My Dad hugged me and promised someday he would buy me another pony I just had to be patient.

I was addicted. I read horse books by the dozen and begged everytime I visited my cousins to ride their ponies.

When I was nine, I had a huge garage sale that my mother didn't know about . I took my $75.00 and I bought a feedlot colt. I hid that colt from my mother for 3 years and worked for his keep and brushed him and loved him and named him Frostbite. When my mother found out about him she sold him and I was grounded for months.

In my teens I worked as a farm hand whenever I could, I spent endless hours in the show barns at the Calgary Stampede, I hung around at rodeos with my friends, anything just to be close to my great love. Years passed and I worked, slept, drank, danced, cared for children. I was miserable. Often depressed, suicidal, angry, aggressive.

When I was in my mid twenties I hurt my back, bad. The second time I hurt it the Dr. suggested I start riding in order to build core strength and to help restore the use of my back. I went to stables as often as I could afford to which honestly wasn't much. I suffered. I moved to Saskatchewan when I was 29 and the first thing I did was buy a horse. I phoned my dad and begged him to help fund my madness and he agreed.

 I bought a beautiful nine year old grey Arabian mare name Star. I am here to tell you dear reader that at $1200 I stole this horse. she has been my best friend and partner through thick and thin. It has been twelve years and I have had many horses. I truly love them all. My soul is at rest living the life I was born for. I hold my breath each winter dieing for the summer to come and I play the country songs I grew up on aching for my existence to do them justice.

It's Just A Joke.....

I saw a post that offended me yesterday. Really offended me. It was a drawing of an adult man having sex with an infant. I reported the photo. I never do that, I am a pretty live and let live kind of person but that was too far. It got me thinking. How have we come so far that this is considered humor?

Women have been fighting over objectification for decades but I present this, we are objectifying all mankind and all living things for the purpose of entertainment. To the person who wrote that cartoon that baby wasn't a person but merely a prop. When I saw that drawing that baby was a human being having its entire life destroyed for sport. More and more we see men becoming the objects in advertising,in jokes , in life. I think we are slowly achieving equal rights but I don't think we are gaining ground. I think all mankind is slowly becoming objects for the entertainment of others and it terrifies me that this is the world we are leaving for our children.

I refuse to read "50 Shades Of Grey" because it romanticizes the grooming of a young woman as a sex slave. Please believe me as a victim of childhood molestation and rape that grooming is not romantic. It damages how you view sex and relationships eternally.

Allow me to challenge you dear reader next time you see a meme or cartoon that uses a living thing as a prop take a step back and see that living being as an individual and view the joke for what it is ... the dehumanization of our species so that it becomes ok to use others for pleasure despite their pain.

We don't ride 'em anymore.....

I have horses and dogs. I live breathe and sleep horses and dogs.
I live in a place where the winters are cold and it feels like everyone, myself, the kids, the horses and the dogs are in storage eight months of the year.

Riding my horse is my therapy both physical and emotional, so in summer I am a sort of fit balanced, confident woman with self esteem and sass. In the winter I slowly melt into a lump of sorrow and grumpy darkness. I have tried a few different things to not have this happen but to no avail. My Dr. Has expressed that this pattern is also not good for my spine which I injured badly eighteen years ago.

I'm pretty passionate in this area, they are not fusing my spine. So today I looked at the exercise equipment in the basement and tried to decide what would fit in the living room.

I will go and check the horses an feed and water them and feed my dogs and take them outside and pray for spring when we can ride.

I'm your Huckleberry....

I watched Tombstone with my fourteen year old last night. 

I have watched it many times but this time I was hit hard by several lines in the movie. Especially when Doc Holiday said he did what he did because Wyatt was his friend and he didn't have many. I thought about that a lot today. Doc Holiday clearly was a man with few boundaries and morals that were fluid to say the least. By the time he arrived in Tombstone he was fatally ill with tuberculosis. He was a man with nothing to lose and nothing to gain. He was loyal to the bone but only to a few. He didn't wade into the fray because of the people of the town, or because he had ideas about making the world a better place. He did all he did because Wyatt Earp was his friend. 

There are more than a few personality traits I share with Doc and it was very easy for me to understand and appreciate him as Val Kilmer brought him to life. I too am a person of few friends. I too am a person with fluid boundaries governed mainly by my desire to watch my children grow. I don't know how those boundaries would change if I should become fatally ill but I suspect, knowing me, nothing to lose would not be favorable for those who stand against me.

Like Doc I remember the days when I was fierce and powerful. Like Doc I would give my last to a true friend in need of it. It made me a little sad to watch Doc die without his boots on, I can imagine no worse fate myself. Unlike Doc I have no Wyatt Earp. I have a handful of amazing friends I would gleefully wade into battle with, but I lack the depth of understanding that Wyatt had for Doc. He knew him. He fully accepted him as is. Maybe that is where my homesickness comes from. No matter where I am I always feel like I want to go home. Perhaps I just ache to find my Wyatt Earp.  

And then I lost it....

So... for the last few days I have been noticeably absent from the internet....
The reason for this is very simple and somewhat ridiculous to be honest. I lost my computer. Allow me to explain.

I have ADHD combined type. I was born with part of my brain unprepared to function as it does in other people so I have spent my entire life in chaos. Some days I can almost fake it and live like the world around me. Those days I can talk myself into believing that I'm going to be finally able to be organized and not be the mom running around searching for socks for my kids at the last minute, or chasing dogs down the street because I forgot to secure the latch on the run after I took them out.

I have been called "lazy", "stupid","rude " and a myriad of other things for things I genuinely couldn't help and never meant to do. Being a disorganized mom is painful and humiliating, who would do that on purpose? Why would any teenager WANT to be berated in front of their peers and called names ?

All that said some things about having ADHD are not bad. More than 50% of adults with ADHD have an above average IQ. I lack impulse control so I have a lot of great stories. There are other things too but my mind has wandered a bit.

Back to my computer, I went to visit family in the city last weekend for Valentines day. I had a great time and even managed to sneak in some cuddles with my new baby cousin and my Grampa. The weekend was busy and hectic but wonderful. Time to come home came about and I loaded the car, strapped in my child and hit the road, I was thinking about the week ahead and my daughter was bombarding me with questions. After arriving home I opted not to unload the car because I was tired so I filled my arms with necessities and shuffled into the house behind my active seven year old. The week flew by and I distractedly checked the car, phoned my mother and searched my house , the computer nowhere to be found. This morning I mentioned to my fourteen year old that my computer was missing and I thought it might be time to report it to the police and my daughter said... MOM its right under the table its been there all week.

Welcome to my chaos dear reader.  

Quest for Normal...

I want to be normal. I crave it. I have spent my whole life chasing it like a cat chasing a laser pointer. I seem to be able to fit in for a short time but eventually it all falls apart. I have tried everything, organizational websites, medications, you name I have tried it. My relationships have definately suffered for it. I am the girl that disappears for a couple days for no reason other than I got sidetracked. 

I'm not a bad person, just different and throughout my life I have been fortunate to have people who accept and love me as is, even when the darkness is so thick I can't see anyone. It has taken many years for me to realize there is no normal. 

I cant be the mom baking cookies and canning, but I have tried. I'm the mom that turns off at the horses on the way to school because my teenager needs to connect and feel safe. I'm the mom that homeschools my six year old because she doesn't feel accepted at school. I'm the mom that teaches my daughter how to shin scrape because of my overwhelming fear someone will try to hurt her.I'm the mom that gives my little girls a truck when they are too young to drive because it is fun to let them drive around the field.  I'm the mom that cries because I fed my kids hotdogs instead of "real food". I'm the mom who never hangs around with other moms or lets people in the house because of my feelings of inadequacy and my fear that people will find out we aren't "normal". 

Decent into madness....

It's hard to say , but I think I was a fairly normal child, my family was average, my parents were young. No one ever took a lot of interest in what I did so I just did. Somewhere along the way things got sideways. I started sneaking out, drinking, fighting , doing drugs, younger than a person would normally expect. My Mom send me to my Dad in June of 1988 because I was just too far gone for her. I was suicidal or homicidal most of  the time. I detoxed in a small bedroom where I had tinfoiled the windows and slowly began to heal from the horrible things I had done to myself and the pain I had caused others.

Sadly as the drugs left my system I was faced with a new reality. There were demons in my blood I couldn't tame. I had no idea how to cope with the inky darkness lapping at my hands and feet and the effects of the horrible things I had seen and done. My first depressive episode of record struck my like an atomic bomb. I explained to the school counsellor, as I have explained to many since that I am not afraid to die ... moreso, I am afraid to live.

And So It Begins....

Be gentle, its my first time :)

I used to write. I used to write every chance I got. I wrote about the darkness in my soul, my pain and the pure torment of what I now know was undiagnosed mental illness.

People read it, bands bought it for lyrics, poetry collections published it.

Yep, I used to write.

Then I had to grow up. I had to work, I had to mom, I had to adult and at the end of the day I was way too tired to write.

I forgot about writing and the darkness swallowed my soul. I struggled, I fought and I barely survived. A few days ago I got a message from a friend, a short message.... Didn't you used to write?