One day it dawned on her
That life was not going to happen
At some time in the future.
She realized that her happiness was
Right here and right now.
I'm painting bones again.
I'm making friends with the antelope.
With one hand in a cast, I can still paint with the other.
I can decorate a loper's leg.
I was able to stretch a lime green fingerless mitt over my ugly royal blue cast.
You know my mum knitted those for me, don't you.
I can find a mustang to photograph.
I can watch my prairie bloom.
I wonder what he's thinking. Don't you?
Oh, the honeysuckle vine.
I cannot tell you how much this bird has meant to me. Everyday she sits on the same branch and sings her heart out. All day long. Just for me. That's what I think.
And then there's this pretty little thing...
This ol' hobo, my very own father, will turn 95 years in two more days!
He is the light of my life.
I included this quote in a handmade birthday card that I sent him.
Thank you, Mark Twain.
Sherpa loves the patio sunshine almost as much as her mama.
Eclipse, you have really done it this time...
My desire for riding, learning flat work, wanting to jump horses, even the simple pleasure of grooming horses has waned.
At this point in my life, carrying around a cumbersome cast on my hand, limiting my ability to do practically anything, has taken it's toll.
I was even ordered not to go to work for three weeks. I should be happy about that, but I'm not.
For now, I've hung up my riding helmet.
You know the saying, get back on that horse. If I had actually fallen off of Eclipse, there's a good chance I would indeed get back on him.
But, this black beauty bolted and charged out of the paddock with me in tow.
It could have been a lot worse, but I don't want to take that chance in the future.
I'm going to stick with photographing wild horses, instead. It's safer.
Meanwhile, look at this lilac chirp under a turquoise sky.
If that doesn't make you smile!