Took baby boy on his first group trail ride with about 20 others.
I should probably stop calling him that. Not much of a baby now at 4.5 years old and over 16 hands high. Oh well.
He was wonderful.
R and I arrived early (surprised? No, I know you are not) so I could ride in the arena for a bit before heading out. When everyone was ready, we rode out on the trails for a few hours. The worst of the summer heat has passed and highs in the low 90s are a welcome relief. I have a feeling this winter is going to be hard, so I will savor the temperatures now while I can.
Mimosas, dried meats, and cheeses were just the ticket when we were finished and delayed the Sunday blues that hit us hard on the way home.
He was also the biggest horse there. But that is besides the point. People seem to be amazed by big horses. I am used to it. Side note, someone please gift me a warmblood sized trainer. Homeboy has to wear a helmet in there he is so tall. He seems to take great joy in rubbing his head on the ceiling! You think I am kidding, I am not.
Anyway. Big plans for this guy. I am going to take him on my week long riding vacation here in a couple weeks. Last year I took Ike and we had a smashing time. Riding every day in the hill country with my people. It will be a great experience for him. Especially for when I finally get him to his first show. Which was supposed to happen this year. Sigh. So many well intentioned ideas at the beginning of the year. Oh well.
He is quickly becoming my favorite trail horse. Cheetah will always be my number one, but she much prefers solo rides or small groups. Lito seems to quite enjoy the group activity, so we will see. We are slowly but surely installing some buttons in his brain and, just like with everything else, he is a quick study. All in good time. All in Lito’s time. All in God’s time. AHAmoment.
Slowly prepping until we leave. One last weekend. We begin to make our way there on the first Saturday in October. Much to do until then.
I have never understood the whole quarter life or mid life crisis thing. Always was an odd concept to me. A conundrum. I jokingly throw around the term at times. I typically think of age as just a number. A number that many people use as an excuse or something to dread. Or view as a ticking time bomb or one of those daily flip calendars with a finite number of pages. The truth is, you are the age you feel you are. I have never really felt my age, even when I was little. Dare I say that I typically think of myself as an old soul. I read somewhere that one should never admit to that if you ever want to get married. Well, I just did. I suppose I am doomed now.
“Yeah there are different roads to happiness
I took a different path I guess
Came out on the others side just fine
The losing side of twenty five”
Turning twenty five was no big deal for me like everyone makes it out to be. Well, on second thought, maybe it was. I was either twenty four or five when I died my hair on a whim. Making the decision as I walked in the door of the salon. Pretty out of character for this planner. It was supposed to be redish and my parents freaked out like I had gone to the dark side and said it was purple. It wasn’t purple, at least not after it faded.
Twenty six was a big one. When I turned twenty six I felt like I was kicked on my bum out of the nest, falling on a large stick puncturing my wallet as I had to get my own health insurance policy. A puncture that just keeps getting bigger. Like some terrible kind of graduation gift that just keeps on giving. I called that a quarter life crisis to be funny, but honestly, I still do not know why it felt like such a big deal. Everyone has to do it. The hair dying was probably closer to a crisis, depending on who you ask. Some people may even call this blog, created almost a year ago, a quarter life crisis.
“My regrets are far and few between
and I can’t say that they’ve cost me a thing.
Except some money and a little bit of love,
But I’ll give that up.
If I can say that I am still my own
Without the rules that they forced upon.
At least since they day that I was had
because I can’t go back.”
At twenty eight, I sometimes feel like I am back where I was at twenty three, fresh out of undergrad, wondering why on earth I worked to graduate on time and give up my ability to ride every day. Still with an urge to dye my hair and blame it on a quarter life crisis just because. Just because I feel antsy. Questioning my life decisions and wondering. What is next? What am I supposed to be learning here?
I don’t think a season of life in transition, with God pushing me into rest, prayer, and waiting, can be considered a quarter life crisis. That is what I think most people do.
Here is the thing though. Everyone is in their own boat on the same sea. It is all a part of the journey. AHAmoment. The path. Individual and unique, just like you. The end destination is the same for everyone on different roads with different challenges. Might as well enjoy the ride! Look back at the end and marvel at what was experienced and accomplished instead of regrets or what went wrong. There will be many more seasons of transition to prepare you for what is next, often feeling like the waves going up and down the beach. One minute you think you are up and then the next you are back. The key is to stay the course. Just like working with a horse. One bad ride does not doom the next. Give them time to learn and figure it out. One mistake does not define a life. Mistakes do not exist if we learn from them. Be patient. Pray. Learn and grow. It is hard, yes, but in due time, His time, you will know what the next step is and when to take it. The next season will begin.
“When you are at war with yourself, you are bound to lose.”
So, no. No crisis. Never was and never will be. I am over here, happily in transition. Faithfully waiting. My current season of rest. Still. It does not come easy for me, but with His help, it will get easier. I will be prepared.
I’m not going to dye my hair, don’t worry. At least I don’t think so.
How I get to all of that from listening to one song is a wonder to me. Hello? Did I lose you? Anyone still there?
The good news is, the strangles scare was just that, a scare. I will still check each horse just in case while I am out tending to my Lito man. Speaking of Lito. He still seems to be recovering well and is enjoying his short workouts. Keeping sound with no added heat or swelling. Barring any schedule changes, we should be ready for his vet check by Wednesday or Thursday next week. Fingers crossed, dear readers.
