Thursday, March 25, 2010

I'm supposed to be...

I'm supposed to be weed eating the back 40, too wet.  I'm supposed to be painting the inside of the kitchen cupboards, too damp.  I'm supposed to be changing the oil in the ol SUV, too nasty.  I'm supposed to be putting up the drapery rods, too boring.  I'm supposed to be studying, too busy.  I'm supposed to be finding an electrician, too costly.  I'm supposed to be mowing the lawn, too rainy.  I'm supposed to be doing taxes, too confusing.  I'm supposed to be looking for work, too old.  I'm supposed to be gathering eggs,  too many.  I'm supposed to be cleaning out the garage, too tired.  I'm supposed to be planting in the garden, too cold.  I'm supposed to be planning dinner, too unorganized. I'm supposed to be sewing, too uninspired. I'm supposed to be ironing, too hot.  I'm supposed to be a lot of things.  I want to be hugging and loving my kids and grandkids, that I DO.   

Monday, March 15, 2010

A Horse called Elvis

We had a cranky ol gelding on the home ranch named Elvis.  How he came by his name I have no idea.  He certainly didn't remind me of The Elvis, as he was not the handsomest piece of horseflesh around. His claim to fame on the ranch was that he could open any gate, and I do mean any.  It was not entirely uncommon to get that feeling that something is watching you and look out the window, to see him standing in the flower bed staring back at you.  He had a well honed method to his gate antics, he must have spent hours figuring out how different gates closures worked.  Being sneaky about his talent was also part of his way.  He never did it while you were in his sight.  The way we confirmed it was observation from a distant knoll, and the fact that he had kind of overthought the process by closing the gate behind himself.
His favorite  was to wait until we had gathered the horses into the barn corral, closed the gate, fed in the big horsebarn, and  then driven off to other chores.   Before the dust had settled he would saunter over open the gate, go back in the barn and tell the rest of the horse herd about the open gate. After they had made a mad dash out the gate, he would saunter over, shut the gate, mosey back into the barn and proceeded to eat all the feed. 
I thought for sure he would be sent down the road, after he did the same with the gate into the grandmother's beautifully tended yard.  That time he let the other horses IN, closed the gate, and galloped off to a good vantage point to watch the fireworks.  Grandfather stuckup for him in the battle that followed, and he stayed with us until an ol' fellow that needed a gentle horse bought him.  He was going to a good home and it really never came up about his special ways.  We did hear from the ol fellow that Elvis was doing well, was well loved, and the most talented horse he'd ever had.