Cowgirls They Be!

On our quest to become horse people, the girls and I attended a Gymkhana event at a ranch not far from my house. What is gymkhana you ask? If you don't have to ask, well, that makes you smarter than me because I had to ask. But I didn't. You know when you think you know, and then the person you're talking to keeps talking and by the time you realize you're really not so sure what they're talking about you feel too dumb to backtrack? It was one of those moments. We won't talk about how many of those moments I have. You don't want to know. I don't want to think about it. Back to gymkhana- it's when you use a horse to run around barrels or poles in various setups to get the best time.

The ranch was amazing! The arena seemed about the size of a football field, and was beautifully maintained. There were several families that came and for the most part it was kids doing the riding. It was the first time that the event was held, but everyone wants to do it on a monthly basis. The whole point of it is to get the kids to get a taste for the sport in a controlled, secure environment. They used two different horses for the kids that were completely sound, and there was always an adult either leading or standing by while they were directed which way to go around the barrels. They did four different trails and the kids had a blast! I'm so grateful to have found a hobby that we can all do and love as a family, and that is healthy and fun for the kids.

There's something beautiful about a kid focused so wholely on a task. I wish I saw this much extreme attention paid to her homework. She was proud of herself for being able to handle "Cash" on her own after a bit.

Every time Sydney got a little freedom she wanted to start going faster, so she had to be kept in check a bit more. Syd has no fear. Not even a healthy paranoia. I have enough for all of us.

I love these quiet moments when they don't know they're being studied. This is a picture of a truly happy, contented little girl.

Punkin even got to ride all the trails and as you can see, she was pretty happy about it! She paid nearly no attention to what was going on because she was solely focused on how excited she was. You could see it bubbling up in her and she had total perma-grin!

All in all, it was a great time, and we can't wait for the next!

The Dog Formerly Known as Smudge

He hasn't changed his name to a symbol yet, but Sydney has decided that he is now Coleen. The deal is that I told her we couldn't get a girl pug to name Coleen, so she decided to make do with the dog we have. So by name alone, and the lovely pink headband they are trying to make him wear, Smudge is now Colleen, and since anatomically nothing can or will be done, I guess he is also a transvestite. So now I have a three-toed, transvestite bane of my existence. I feel special. Also this picture of him objecting to the transition makes me feel special. Karma, baby!

He may have been unhappy about it here too

And here...

Aaaah, the fruitless struggles of a small dog.

I almost feel bad enough for him to forgive that he licked me after licking Cody's a**! Almost. But not quite.

Tales From the Shortbus

Thinking about my aunt one day caused my thoughts to drift to her oldest spawn, Eric. My mind lightly touched on various related topics until I remembered an incident that happened to him, and it got me thinking about it in a new light. Sometimes when things happen we think, "How weird!", but then if you really think about it, it may not have been weird. Most things in my life that I come across, I realize that someone, sometime, somewhere in present or past, has likely had the same incident or thought. It's hard to be exclusive and completely unique in this world with all of the billions of people that have come through it. These thoughts were swirling around in my head along with the Eric Incident that had come to my mind, when I realized that he may have done something that was truly unique in this world. That's not to say that it was something that anyone would want to do, have done to them, would even occur to someone to do, or is monumental in its significance, but I'm just saying it was unique. And stupid. And sooo Eric.



So here goes: Once upon a time there was an idiot with some seriously ferocious breath. This may have something to do with his extreme dentist phobia. With Valium, and a few well placed threats his mother and I got him in for a cleaning, and after an hour, lots of crying and drama, they got half of his bottom teeth done. I digress. Anyway... to help him, Lindee bought him lots of gum and Altoids. I truly don't know how people could even deal with those things! Just thinking of them makes my mouth hurt. That kid popped those like candy and it never failed to amaze me. One special day, this very special boy had about six or seven of them held loosely in his hand while he was walking through the halls of his high school on his way to class. He went to pop one of them into his mouth and at the same time someone bumped into him causing all of them to get tossed down his throat where they all got caught. He came home from school because his throat was killing him. Since Lin didn't drive, we ended up seeking medical attention. The diagnosis was that he had managed to burn some sort of hole in his esophagus when they all got stuck. My thought: Who freakin' does this? Seriously? Altoids? I hazard to guess that no other dipsh*t in the world has managed to burn a hole in their esophagus with Altoids. That's why he's extra "special" in my book!



I'd also like to share another tale about this dear, retarded cousin of mine that has become legendary in my family and always brings a laugh. My grandparents reserved a section of their favorite steakhouse for their anniversary, and it was my grandparents, their kids, and us, the younger generation. Eric was in high school and was proudly displaying his manliness through his first pubescent facial hair. You know, that baby fine stuff that you can totally see through because it's just not meant to be full? Anyway, my brother, Jack, my other cousins and I were pitching him crap about the fuzz on his face when he got this supreme look on his face and while twirling his farce of a mustache, says, "It's my Latino look." (he's Italian, and he likely meant Italiano, or something stupid like that) Just then the chatter sort of quieted down as I blurted out loudly with my You Are Soo Ridiculous Look, (many of you know the one) and said, "You want to be a Mexican?" The supreme look was quickly replaced with confusion as the entire room busted up. Classic. He is definitely one of the most "special" people I know, and I could probably fill a book with all the notably stupid things that he has done. What this means is that you may not have heard the last Tale From the Shortbus.
See what I mean?

Lindee Lee

I had intended to start commemorating the birthday's of my immediate family and friends as I remember them, starting now, and I had intended to do this on Lindee's birthday, April 27. I haven't been able to because of multiple things standing between me and my computer time, but I find it immensely appropriate that I finally have the time, and it happens to also be the day that she left this world.

Some people come into our lives, stay for a bit, go their own way, and pop back in once in awhile. Then there are others. These people are always there, and they always have been. It's these people that when they leave, they take part of your soul with them. These people will still always be around because there's few memories that don't involve them in some way or another. Lindee was one of those people for me. It's been two years now since she passed, and I still feel emptiness and pain when I think that it's real, and that she's truly gone. I think that it's because as my aunt, she was like my second mother and when my mother died long before I was mature enough to understand our fragile existence, or the value of the people closest to us, I poured all the love and regrets of what I should have been to my mom into my relationship with her. I wanted to make sure that I loved enough so that I wouldn't have regrets. That was my first really big life lesson. Love everyone, everyday, as if they won't be around tomorrow. Because they may not be.

Lindee was an amazing person. For most of my life she lived in the same home, so when I think of my life with her, there's alot of stability. I can think of any time of the year and pinpoint some of our rituals. Summer was all about sun tea, Lipton, made in huge glass jars and a quarter cup of sugar. There were long walks in the evenings after bar-b-que. Fall brought beautiful maple leaves to her yard and the decor on her hearth. It was the start of fires in the fireplace to ward off that first bite of winter looming. Fall was also focused on Halloween, one of her favorite holidays. She loved that she had well over a hundred kids come to her door every year. As children, Jon and I went out with Bob for hours while Lin stayed and counted all the trick-or-treaters, and then later it was my kids having the same pleasure. I will never forget the last minute scramble to help her put together the little goodie bags because a simple candy bar wouldn't be good enough. Did I mention how many she had come to the door? Nuts. Christmas was always fun with warm fires and lots of decor. I was for many years her shopping companion, and boy howdy, did she buy for everyone! She loved making sure that everyone she ever had contact with had a gift of some sort. It drove Bob nuts, but it's part of what I loved most about her. She had such a generous spirit. Spring brought forth our eagerness to wear shorts and sandals, get pedicures, buy brightly colored clothes, and shop for flowers for her yard. Oh, and to start harassing Bob to start hacking at the jungle in the back yard. I love that I have so many memories of the cycle of our lives as they wove together.

I think the thing that makes me still feel so out of joint about her being gone is that it was, and still is surprising to me that she is gone. Many people that are sickly seem to have a secret knowledge of their mortality, and you can see that knowledge. Maybe she had it and I didn't want to see it, but I think it's more likely that though she had a whole lot of medical issues, she never let them get her down. She had a fighting spirit and that's what you saw. There was always the bright smile and a chipper "Hi!", even in the dark times, and she made you believe that everything would always be ok. This is why my memories of her are predominately surrounded in light. She was my light. She is my light. She was a great example of true love and pure charity. This is what led to another on my list of important life lessons. Be grateful for every day that you are given, smile through the worst of times, and find joy in simple pleasures.

I am, and will forever be grateful to have had her in my life, for as long as she was. I love you and miss you Lindee Lee.