A year is not enough time to make sense of how I lost you. After Tim died, I threw myself into grieving. I wanted to see his face everywhere. Talk about him, explore all of the different facets of his illness and death. I went through his belongings like an archeological dig, excavated anything I could. Completely surrounded myself with him to try to make sense of the loss, to find answers to all of my questions. I guess when…
I have three large, mature trees in my yard. A White Oak and an Arizona Ash in the front, and another White Oak in the back. I know the Ash is at least 50 years old, and I’d imagine the oaks are that if not older. According to my arborist, time is dwindling for the Ash tree. He swears their lifespan is 20-30 years, and mine is far past that. I have it aggressively cut back every year, and it…
I won’t even get into the lack of blogging. Instead, let’s talk about the baby dragon. Poet has been living in Austin for four months now. He traveled well, although dropped some weight which is to be expected. Immediately at landing at his new home which included this magical new thing called “turnout,” he settled dramatically. Now, I know I can be a bit fatalistic, but I may or may not have warned people about my baby horse. Phrases like,…
A lot has happened since I last blogged, which I guess is par for the course when you blog maybe 10 times a year. I’d like to say I’m trying to improve on that ratio, but the reality is I’m not trying all that hard. If you’re really antsy for some SMTT updates (and why wouldn’t you be? I’m fabulous 😉 ) the best way to stay up to date is to follow my instagram accounts. The horse one is…
I am, to put it mildly, a bit of a planner. Some might even throw around the words “control freak,” although that sounds fairly harsh to me. I prefer meticulous, driven by detail, thorough. It’s no surprise then that I had a plan for my widowhood. In my grief, I doubled down in planning and control. My best friend was ripped away from me, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. With him went the safe, idyllic life…
I’ve done a pretty good job balancing all my responsibilities through graduate school, but this quarter is when that’s all gone to hell. I put too much on my plate, knew it, and am suffering the consequences. Even though I only have one week of classes left, lots of grading for my TA position, and a final paper, I’m still pretty much just throwing buckets of water out of the life raft so it doesn’t sink. It’s rough right now…
I didn’t blog last week, because my biggest accomplishment with Poet was hand walking him around the property after turnout. This sounds basic, but turnout sometimes reminds Poet that he is a wild, unruly baby dragon. Me time means no rules! Observe. And of course, that’s fine because it’s what turnout is for (yes, I will have video ready first time he’s turned out in his much much much bigger Texas pasture). However, after I bring him in he often…
… somebody’s watching meeeeeeeeee. I love blogging. Love writing. Love writing creative nonfiction specifically, but it can be hard having all my shit out there in a very public way. Sometimes this is amazing, like in the form of friends I’ve met, support and love from “strangers.” Still, I wouldn’t change my writing decisions. Even when it’s awkward, even when my family gets upset at me, this is who I am. I’ve made the choice to put myself out there…