family
this moment
this girl
this girl. Have I written enough about her lately? Have I sung her praises here on these pages recently? Tonight, I must. This girl, I tell you. She is. She is amazing. She is beautiful. She is strong. She is incredible. She is strength.
You know, it’s one of those things you just can’t write. You just can’t find the words. She is poetry in motion. She is grace on earth. There just aren’t words in my humble fingers that can even begin to touch it.
But, if I could for a moment please…try to break it down simply.
I sprained my finger the other day. It hurts like hell. Much more than I would have thought for such an injury. My middle finger has been swollen and black as can be for three days. It hurts so damn bad. My husband had to go out of town for work today. And, I, now own a therapeutic riding business that is not quite “in business” yet, but has five rambunctious horses who are worked up and hyper from five days of snow and they JUST DON’T LISTEN WHEN I TELL THEM TO SETTLE DOWN because I’m in pain and need a few days off!!!
As I was saying, this girl. She stepped up. She trucked the feed around all morning, noon and evening meals. She caught, haltered and stood with each of the horses for the farrier this morning (whom I tried to cancel, but didn’t catch in time) for a total of three hours. This girl. She cleaned stalls, spread shavings and trekked through the mud and muck from four days of snow now melting.
And all this, when all I asked of her to do was PLEASE halter the horses for the farrier when I saw the truck pulling in after I was unsuccessful in cancelling the appointment in time.
The rest of the work was THIS GIRL’S choice.
BUT the best, by far, was when I hugged her and said thank you to her. And she responded with “don’t say thank you”.
“But I am really thankful for all your help today, baby”
“I don’t want you to say thank you”
“Well I’m going to say it anyway”
“Well fine, but you don’t have to”
Wow. What did I do to deserve this girl?
Thank you God.
And then, she went to three hours of dance class, came back home, walked her puppy and read half of the novel “Matilda” only to go to sleep asking what we are doing tomorrow.
I think I will take this girl for ice cream tomorrow.
the tree that keeps on giving
Christmas trees around the world
Joining in at silverthreading.com with our little barn tree:
We always try for a living tree. They are not always easy to find. We have to go to a small, local nursery and tend to pay more for a tree smaller and more modest than the average cut one. But, it makes up for it in the knowing that we have a tree in our home that is ALIVE, breathing, caring for us as we care for it. And then ends up planted on our property to continue on it’s life. We have always striven for this. However, when we moved into the barn of “barnraised”, we suddenly found ourselves living in a home barn that didn’t belong to us. And, I don’t think it would be quite the same sentiment to return back to the house that we own and now have renter’s leasing to…knock, knock, can we plant our Christmas tree? So this tradition took a hiatus while we lived in the barn. Now, we have this new beautiful property. A fresh canvas to plant. We, this year, continue the tradition. Holiday tree #1 for the new barn.
As we take, we try to give back to the earth. That’s the Christmas spirit that I wish to instill in my little girl. That’s the sort of “tradition” I want to pass on.
this moment
this moment
Saying goodbye
It occurred to me that in all the busy-ness of barn life-leaving one barn, working in another barn and moving into a final BARN (home at last)-I failed to honor an official good-bye to the “barn”.
While it has been months, it feels raw still. The barn that changed so much in my life in such positive ways. That barn that has made this NEW barn life possible. I am a woman I never imagined I would be. I am a cowgirl in every sense of the word. My daughter can say she was literally “raised in a barn” and know that means a hell of a lot. She is strong, she is amazing, she is courageous. She is more COWGIRL at nine years old now, than most would ever (never) understand how to be in a lifetime or even what the term means. It is FAR beyond cute boots and pigtails. THAT she has learned in this barn. I am grateful for all we, both, have learned there. THANK YOU. THANK YOU. And good-bye. What memories. “Cowgirl up” as the head honcho here would say. I will forever live by the lifestyle I have learned here. No matter how hard, how tough, how raw. Nothing can break a cowgirl.
Oh, Comes the Dawn.
remembering this trail
this moment
this moment
barnraised 