Days Like Today

You know what? On days like today, I wish more than I normally do that my office chair was the back of my horse.

Any horse at this point, really, and not just because I have done such little riding lately that I am actually beginning to literally twitch involuntarily. I am sure my eyes have begun to bug out of my head and the people around me will start looking at me all funny like.


“We will sing, to our souls
We won’t bury our hope
Where He leads us to go
There’s a red sea road
When we can’t, see the way
He will part the waves
And we’ll never walk alone
Down a red sea road”


Anyway. Everyone has days like this every now and then.

I am sitting here on my couch with a glass of wine on the side table next to me, a cozy blanket that was a gift to me draped over the arm of the couch, and my little laptop resting in my lap. My townhouse keeps making noises that make me wonder if I have a long lost roommate upstairs. My television intermittently plays a show I have already seen in the background.

Why intermittently you ask? Good question. I do not have an answer for you on that one. My TV and/or internet appear to be a slightly emotional beings at best and more often than not, I spend more time watching a spinning wheel than any actual entertainment. The wonders of today’s modern connectivity, I tell you.

It is no matter to me at the present moment though. I do not really have it in me to pay close attention. Today was a bit of a sour day and it put that taste right into my mouth. I sure did not like the taste so I went to a dance workout class with R and her sister after work to try and shake it all out. It did a decent enough job at that.

Nothing like this would have done, but it was the next best thing I had.

Today was a day for practicing relearning how to be like a duck in the rain, so to speak. To let that rain just bead up and fall right off you. You know how I have told you before. Yes, yes. That little life tidbit wrapped up in an AHA moment. About how manure rolls downhill. Yes, just like that. I will be firmly upright and uphill tomorrow. Maybe one of these days that lesson will stick in my own brain.


“Paths are there for us to follow, this is gospel I believe
Angels are around us flying, truth and mercy to receive
Pictures of uncommon nature, painted by a masters hand
Draw me ever on life’s journey, rendered thus to understand
As a songbird that is fallen, only to regain the sky
From this frozen shadow valley, lay my sweary head
Love is from no distance calling, faithful as the rising sun
Warms the bitter heart and heartache, till the east of Eden’s gone
Clouds of fear and misconception, wax and wane as if the moon
So is in a sense forsaken, till the will of God be known
As a songbird that is fallen, only to regain the sky
From this frozen shadow valley, lay my sweary head”
~Bob Neuwirth / Henry Burnett


I long for more daylight hours with ground that is more than just a slip ‘n slide. To have the time to thoroughly groom my horse and not be in a rush.


“The sounds of the valley seem to reach me within. It plays on my heart like an old violin. At the end of the day I just can’t wait for it to play.”
~Trinity Seely


Tomorrow is a new day. For me and for you. It will be a good one. If it is not, we will make it one and it will be better than yesterday.

Let us all be like ducks in the rain on top of the manure hill!

Walk in love, dear readers.

Living For Today

Dear readers.

There is only so much time we are given in this life.

It is a precious gift.

img_6983

And it should be.

img_6991

Do not waste it.

This is true in all facets of life.

In a way, living for today is how you live for tomorrow. It is when you look back and realize you have not wasted your time that you know you set yourself up just right.

Walk in love, dear readers.

Ashes

It is another one of those music Wednesdays apparently.

My sister introduced me to this song the other day and I just can not get it out of my mind.

For a number of reasons.

Thought provoking.

Raw.

Beautiful.


“What’s left to say?
These prayers ain’t working anymore
Every word shot down in flames
What’s left to do with these broken pieces on the floor?
I’m losing my voice calling on you

‘Cause I’ve been shaking
I’ve been bending backwards till I’m broke
Watching all these dreams go up in smoke
Let beauty come out of ashes
Let beauty come out of ashes
And when I pray to God all I ask is
Can beauty come out of ashes?
Can you use these tears to put out the fires in my soul?
‘Cause I need you here, woah
‘Cause I’ve been shaking
I’ve been bending backwards till I’m broke
Watching all these dreams go up in smoke
Let beauty come out of ashes
Let beauty come out of ashes
And when I pray to God all I ask is
Can beauty come out of ashes?

Can beauty come out of ashes?”

~Jordan Smith / Patrick Martin / Tedd Tjornhom


Not my usual type of song, sure, but here is what I have to say about it.
Unanswered prayers are a form of answered prayer. No, I will not get all Garth Brooks on you.
You just have to keep at it. Keep knocking. Keep seeking Him.
Beauty does indeed come out of ashes. It can, it will, it does, you just have to let it. Open your eyes and see it. God gives us examples of this every day.
Let it go.
Just like in our aftermath.
Two years and this about sums up what I feel about it. No easier than a year ago. But different all the same. All a part of the journey.
Do we have answers? No. Probably less than we had before no doubt.
But beauty does indeed come out of ashes. I dare you to prove me wrong.
And that is all I have to say about that!
Walk in love, dear readers.

You Know What?

Sometimes, beauty just finds a way to smack you in the face and take your breath away. AHAmoment. It makes you stop and take note. For good reason.

Sometimes even before you have finished your first cup of morning coffee, so you better wake yourself up and be ready for it!

I walked out of my parents house with a cup of coffee after feeding Sunday morning and I was smacked in the face with this beautiful sight. I could not help but snap a quick photo of it. It had me smiling all day.

You know me and that light and those long shadows.

You see those pine trees there? Legend has it they came all the way from Georgia. Random, yes, but I love these pine trees more than any other. I never knew I could be so sentimental over some random pine trees in Texas that are said to be from Georgia. What a story I am sure they could tell.

I love how after twenty years of coming here, I am still amazed and taken away by the beauty. God’s beauty. The interesting thing about it is that it is never the same. It is dynamic and ever changing. From day to day, season to season, year to year. Like God’s love. Ever present and eternal, always taking you by surprise and reminding you of His presence. It brings your feet right square down to the ground.

Anyway. While Sunday was a stunner of a day, Friday and Saturday were wet, cold, and windy. We got quite a bit of rain ourselves and the ground was basically soup (not the best for riding). It had us all in an eating and drinking mode. Convenient since I really had zero desire to organize and clean all my things from my trip.

We all had been craving molasses cookies. Presumably all suffering in silence until I broke down and stated my craving aloud and everyone desperately agreed. Naturally, I had to bake some. If you have never tasted these delights, you are missing out. We all grew up on them.

It is as simple as that. Or, as this rather.

Make the dough.

img_6573

Ball the dough (directly, if you are too impatient to chill the dough first).

Roll the dough…in sugar. Making sure to get some on the counter with the help of a little person. You are not doing it right if you do not.

img_6574

Bake the dough.

img_6575

But not too long!

img_6578

Then you eat an exorbitant amount of them! So so good. They got me thinking. I should try these with pumpkin!

Want the recipe? I will share it with you soon!

After baking, we took a stroll to the river to see how high it had gotten.

There is a beach under there somewhere.

It is still supposed to rise up a bit more, but it should stay in bank even still.

All of that work made us thirsty. I made myself a ginger orange margarita.

img_6582img_6583

By then the day was almost over and it was evening feeding time.

These two just tickle me to death. This is definitely not the best photo in the world, but I sure do love it. I often find them like this. Five and a half years later and they still choose to share a stall.

Then with a Sunday like this…I just have to show you again.

img_6592

What else is there to do but hop on the best mare and call for the kids to come out and join you.

Such a contrast of weather in two days.

Walk in love, dear readers!

Tap, Tap, Tap?

Hello?!

Thought you lost me, didn’t you? No such luck.

Just over here, keeping my head above water. Ha! Figuratively, not literally of course. You do know how I love a good metaphor.

tenor

A little bit of rain would be nice, though. It is a titch dry and the grass, well, is down right crispy.

Somehow the start of August came and went in a blink of an eye after the July I have had. July might as well not have been here! Two weeks in France and two weeks out of state for work. Then last weekend was a girls weekend at the bay complete with my Darcy dog. Man, this adulting is hard. Traveling and working to pay for your life.

IMG_5315

Not that I am asking for a violin serenade or anything, let us get real. (Because, actually, when you think about it. It is pretty cool to be able to do and pay for things. Although, I might or might not have shed an actual tear for the lack of magic butter). It just makes for not much time for talking with you as you may or may not have noticed.

And zero time for actual riding of my horses and I have only been able to see them twice since being back. That is the real tragedy here. For me more so than for the horses. And maybe for those around me.

tenor (1)

But. Life is now getting back to normal and that means actual riding will be happening soon. And blogging. And that makes Avery a happy person.

Speaking of blogging. Want to hear about the rest of my France trip?

Tune back in later this week!

Walk in love, dear readers, and go be a happy person!

Still Here

Hi, ya, it’s me! I am still here. Well, there. Up in the air on a plane home after only moderate running through the airport.

Much to report, but that shall be later.

I need to get home first. It is calling to me like a beacon.

As are these guys.

Then I have to directly turn around and go to Louisiana for work. No rest for the weary as they say.

We will talk soon, dear readers, but until then, walk in love.

Breakfast For Dinner

And other serious, important topics.

I got home from an after work chat and glass of wine at Grandparent’s house with zero plans for dinner.

Figuring I would, you know, figure that out later, I poured myself another glass of wine, opened my computer, and set to planing the last details of my vacation in France.

Feeling like it was already next week, dreamily across the pond in France, I looked up and there was no French dinner fairy and no French dinner. Sigh. What to do.

Too bad I can not have a late night croissant for dinner. Wine and croissant. I mean, when in France, right.

KQrf-P.gif

Imagine that as a croissant. Honestly though, carbs…I like them, so a baguette would be nice to.

I put my computer aside and started the Texas version of breakfast for dinner. Well, half-of-the-best-Texas-breakfast-for-dinner-I-could-do-with-what-I-had anyway. Pancakes, bacon, and wine. That would have to do.

When in Texas and about to be in France, right?

I was going to write somewhat or something about such topics as serious as independence or heaven, but that was all just WAY too serious and required too much focus. Especially when dreaming about France. I have always loved breakfast for dinner anyway. Not just when dreaming about France. Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day.

Just your average, random Thursday night.

Back to France. I will have a short 24 hours in Paris while I am there. If you have been, what are your top things to do there? Things you would not want to miss. I need opinions!

Walk in love, dear readers!

Something To Remember: Your Own Advice

Sometimes, remembering and taking your own advice can be difficult.

It can be hard.

Time marches on and a new day comes, you turn around and it is like you never made the revelation that time before. You have to do it all over again, but luckily though, it reveals itself quicker than the last time.

One day though, it finally begins to stick. That old time feeling comes back and you remember.

All of this to say, remember that time I shared with you the story of the wardrobe? It is an important life lesson and it is one that has been circling back around for me of late. So, I figured I would share it with you again.


“My mother always says that the people in your life are like a Wardrobe… There are some people that are in your life for only a season. There are some that are in your life for a few seasons or several years. Then there are some that are, as they say, timeless, that are in your life for the long haul. For the rest of your life.”

Things change. That is how this life works. It is part of the human condition if you will. Part of the blessing when you choose to see it that way. It is part of what makes us who we are and gets us where we are going. Part of our journey. Everyone has experienced this.

Interestingly, this American Aquarium album was recently released. On it, is this track. PSA, there is some ‘adult’ language in the first half. Sorry, but hey, we keep things real here, and this is just that. At the beginning, he shares the story behind the song. Y’all know how I love that. It really brings the lyrics to life and makes you think.

The funny thing is, I was listening to this album on repeat and I did not even realize it or why. It hit me Sunday before I headed home from the farm. Do yourself a favor and have a listen to the whole album. Buy and listen to it on repeat.

Then naturally, I had to go and listen to this song.


“Oh, but seasons come for moving
Forces greater than ourselves
But there’s nothing we are losing
Keep it right there on the shelf
I guess I’ll see you when I see you
And pray you’re safe and well ’til then
And all the miles that lie between us
Will be a way back in the end
Oh, the time we shared was a blessing
I’d love to live it all again
I guess I’ll see you when I see you
Happy travels, my old friend”

And then the whole album because, hello.

Music, man. If need another form of proof that we are not alone in our struggles, music is it.

I said it then and I will say it again today because it is still true for me.

I am beyond grateful for all the people that used to be in my life, the people that are in my life, and for all the people yet to be in my life. You are all a blessing to me. You are part of what makes me who I am and part of what makes my life, my life. Thank you for everything you have taught me or given me. Thank you for making my life richer, bolder, and full of color. Thank you for the smiles and laughs. Thank you for being there and being you.

I hope I did the same for you.

Walk in love, dear readers!

Dreams

You know, dreams are funny thing. I have always thought this.

Some nights you do not remember any of them. Some nights you wish you did not have any, but you can not shake the memory for the life of you. Some dreams are even repeat players. Then there are the nights where you have such vivid and clear and lovely dreams that the images and feelings stick with you for more than just the day, but for what feels like a lifetime. You could retell, with exacting clarity, every moment of that dream over and over. God help the person that really dislikes to hear about dreams. I seem to find myself compelled to tell those people all about my dreams.

remembered-your-dream-from-last-night-meme

I have had two of those dreams in as many weeks.

The first was not this past Monday, but the Monday before.

In this dream I was riding Lito in a little arena by a little white house with peeling and chipping paint out in the country. Set off a little ways by a small, quiet country road with little traffic. The rest of the property was cross fenced with rusty barbed wire and crooked wooden posts into little pastures full of grass. All of this was surrounded by other, similar parcels.

The house had a green and white striped, mildew stained awning over what I guess what the kitchen window and a little covered porch that led to the front door. The front door had a big square window with a curtain hanging from the inside. Next to the door on the porch, crookedly sat one of those rusty, metal chairs. Part way facing the road and part way facing down the two steps off the porch and to the arena.

There I was was with my Lito, riding in that little arena. It was day time, but I remember there were arena lights that could be used for night rides. And we were not alone. There were a handful of other riders with us. All doing our own thing, as I was. The curious thing about it was, I do not think I knew any of them. Maybe it was that they were not important to what was between us. Between me and Lito.

I did seem to know, in some form or another, a man that was standing, leaning on the arena fence by the road. The manner of our connection I knew not, but when we trotted down that long side of the arena where he was near the end of my ride, we smiled at each other. Seemingly knowing something, the same thing.

I know what I knew. It was Lito and the ride was magical. We were totally in tune. That is the only way I can describe it. He was forward, but not too. He was just there. My thoughts were his and his were mine. It was our own little world out there in that little country arena and we just were. It felt like a dance I have yet to really know. Focusing and working on nothing, just riding.

That is when I woke up, as I trotted past the man. I awoke knowing, somehow, that feeling was going to come true soon. Part of me wanted to cling to the sleep to try and get back to the dream (it is truly a shame that is not a thing) and the other part of me wanted to play hooky from work and go ride. And alright, I admit, there was a third part of me who wonders who the man was. Strange to have that strong of a feeling and it had me in a daze for days.

I had another of those dreams last night. It is actually one I think I have had before and not all that long ago.

I was in a place I have never been in real life. I want to say that it was not Texas, but I do not want to admit that. It felt like a foothills region if not even mountainous. The air was crisp, the grass was very green, and the trees felt like they looked like Aspen trees, but I do not think they were. It was easy to visualize, standing and looking off the porch in the back, snow being there.

The building was somewhat of a log cabin style and there was an attached side building or room and the door out front was open. There was at least one other person with me, but again, I do not know who. The building was situated on the top of a little hill that likely went down to a little creek on the back side, but it was not a very steep hill. It was more of a gently sloping hill in most places.

I do not really know what was on either side of this building, but I knew there had to be a barn close by because as I entered this side room, I realized it was a tack room. And rather oddly, an empty tack room with a full wall covered in saddle racks. It was dark, but it was warm, cozy, comfortable, and full of color. It was then that the feeling began. I told somebody with a silly, childlike grin on my face that I had to put my tack in there. As only a horse girl would.

We continued through the tack room and past an unknown hallway, out the back door to the aforementioned porch looking down the hill where the truck and trailer full of horses was parked in the driveway that circled around the back. I know Lito was in there.

I looked around me, standing there on the porch. At the seating arrangement around me and down to the green grass and trees. And then to my left at the lower level deck and chairs down the stairs. I was hit with the feeling from before while I was in the tack room that this place, wherever it was, would be like home to me, if not my actual home one day. For as different as it was from the farm, it felt like the farm.

That was when I woke up. Dreams, man, they are an odd thing. I think I need another cup of coffee.

Have you ever had dreams like that? What do dreams mean to you? Tell me! My family hates hearing about my dreams. I just had to share.

Walk in love, dear readers!

Tuesday’s Track

You know those songs that just never go out of style? That are always applicable? Sometimes they may take you back, but just as often, they speak to you right now in the present because it is honest, raw, and real?

This, my friends, is one of those.

I have probably shared this before, but I do not care. Give it a listen. I just can not get enough of it. Ever. For years I have been listening and it hits me the same every time.

As thought provoking as it is, it is soothing to the very soul.

Always striving for that inner peace. Stillness. Silence. Walking your path. Focusing on Him through it all, no matter what is going on around.

“I been thinkin’ too much about it
What I thought was certain, now I doubt it
So if its over tell me where do I begin
And are there anymore answers left out there in the wind
Sometimes I feel like an Amarillo windmill
Standin’ out in the great wide open alone
And every thought’s a gust of wind
Spins the blades in my mind again
If they spin too much they might break or bend
Aw but if that wild wind ever did lie still
My dreams would turn to rust out in the fields
So I’ll just watch the world fly by me
There’s a silence wellin’ up in side me
Let the rains fall let the winds do what they will
Let it all spin, just let me be still
Sometimes I feel like an Amarillo windmill
Standin’ out in the great wide open alone
And every thought’s a gust of wind
Spins the blades in my mind again
If they spin too much they might break or bend
Aw but if that wild wind ever did lie still
My dreams would turn to rust out in the fields
Yeah but if that wild wind ever did lie still
My dreams would turn to rust out in the fields”
~Mike McClure, The Great Divide

Stir that around in your pot of thoughts, dear readers, and walk in love!