motherhood and time travel

For the past few weeks I've been shopping thrift stores and keeping my eyes open for things my son might need. A rising junior in college, he's officially moved into his first apartment. I spotted a set of Denby dinnerware at the local Habitat store, thought of buying it outright, then pulled back and decided to check in with him before I made the purchase. Days passed, the set remained, and finally I got photos and messaged him, then ran an errand across town while waiting to hear back.

Yes, he texted, get the set. So I headed back to Habitat, not 20 minutes later, and found it had just been purchased and taken away!

At week's end I made another thrift store run. A truckload of bedroom furniture was going his way on Saturday so I had one last day to shop. He had asked me previously to find a blender and I'd broken the news to him that I had never seen a blender in all my years of thrift-store perusing. On Friday I walked into the PTA thrift store and as I walked down the home aisle, spotted not only a blender, but a Waring blender, that was definitely old but looked like it had never been used. It was $4. and when I plugged it in, it worked!

My 25-year old Waring blender wasn't a thrift store find, but it was a steal. I was living in Hollywood and working as the in-house proofreader for a Beverly Hills court reporting firm when I got a call (not on my cell phone because there was no such thing at that time!) from my best friend. Someone was at William-Sonoma and there was a crazy sale on Waring blenders. They had over-ordered and were clearing them out. I had a choice of colors or classic chrome. I chose the chrome. We made every kind of frozen cocktail imaginable over the next month or two and that blender is still used on a weekly basis in my kitchen. 

I messaged my son that I had found a blender and several very nice pieces of cookware and headed over to Habitat. 

There was a lovely set of Franciscan dinnerware marked to half-price. I called son, told him to watch for photos, and he quickly approved the purchase. It took two boxes and a lot of paper to hold all those dishes, bowls, cups, and extras!

I picked up more cookware and called it a day.

All my excitement faded on Saturday morning as I helped my husband load the truck. The dresser in my son's room was going, and as I removed the drawers I burst into tears. This was the same dresser I had found in a thrift store the year he was born, as I was setting up the nursery. It was the dresser I stood in front of 20 years ago and folded onesies and other tiny pieces of clothing into the same drawers. It seemed unimaginable that the dresser was going now to a 20-year old's first apartment.

Surely, I thought, this is some kind of Dr. Who episode, and I am in a parallel universe seeing the future.  The dresser must be still in that nursery, filled with onesies and cloth diapers. 

Motherhood is its own form of time travel. We go forward and back in our minds on a dailly basis, remembering our own childhood memories, those with our children, through the years forward and back again. It can be bittersweet and sometimes sad, but it's also a gift that brings joy.

If we're women who love horses we remember our first rides, the names of the ponies, the names of the horses, not only for ourselves but for our children as well. There is a place somewhere, a magical barn, where all those equines live, and if you're like me you walk down that barn aisle from time to time and visit.

I have a daughter who is heading off to college this fall and yesterday while I was out at the barn checking an antsy QH for ticks in the nether regions, with her help, I thought wildly, There is no way I can manage all this without her. My mind spun forward, trying to fathom being here without either of them, son and daughter, and then of course my mind had nowhere else to go but backward, to the time when I was a single woman who didn't yet have children. But there were no horses then either, so I had to travel all the way back to my own girlhood to the summers when I was dropped off at the boarding barn to spend the day taking care of my horse, and riding, and helping out with the other horses. 

More time travel. I could spend entire days traveling the years back and forward and back again.

I think sometimes we focus too much on child development. It's fascinating, I studied it in great detail during my undergraduate and graduate years in college. Somehow we imagine that we grow up and all that development stops and we're fully-formed adults going about our days with nothing to learn. Just things to do.

Clearly as mothers we live it all again, watching and nurturing children through their own early years, then as they launch forth, we have to learn how to let them go, what to do with our own thoughts and feelings, our older selves.

The time travel is part of that. I'm thinking of it as my PhD, this wild cosmic ride through time. 

And as Joni Mitchell sings it, And the seasons, they go round and round, and the painted ponies go up and down...

http://youtu.be/V9VoLCO-d6U

Keil Bay's new thing

The gate latch on our backyard gate has been unreliable for the past year or so. At some point I put a bungee strap around the post to secure it so that Corgis would be safely contained inside the fence. As with a lot of farm chores, if you "fix" something even temporarily, it pushes that thing to the bottom of the list because there are always new things popping into the top spot. The bungee cord strap has been our gate latch for awhile now.

A few weeks ago my husband replaced the actual latch and removed the bungee cord. I haven't been truly comfortable with the new gate latch - it feels like it's too easy to open and we have lots of smart animals here. I was worried Bear Corgi might learn to stand up on his hind legs and somehow push the latch up and let he and Kyra out.

I think my husband and daughter have felt I was being overly cautious but this weekend we learned that, in fact, the gate latch is not secure.

And it's not because of the Corgis.

Keil Bay was spotted coming to the gate, putting his head over, and lifting the latch to let himself and Cody into the back yard. Where there is lush grass and the garden and - us.

And since he didn't see fit to close the gate behind him, the bungee cord is back.

update on Chaffhaye

We've been through 4-5 bags of the fermented alfalfa hay with the brand name Chaffhaye at this point. I'm feeding it 1-2x per day and giving Keil Bay (16.2, big-bodied Hanoverian, age 26) the largest amount, followed by Cody (15.2 big-bodied QH, age 12).

Keil is getting around 3 lbs. a day and Cody around 2 lbs. at this point. I'm using it for Keil Bay as a post-ride meal too, so on days that he gets ridden he gets more.

The pony and the donkey boys get a much smaller amount - 2-4 single handsful a day. 

I'm not seeing any real changes in their condition or demeanor, but these are healthy horses and donkeys who are all easy-keepers. There were no real "problems" I was trying to address, except that I liked the idea of feeding actual forage instead of alfalfa pellets, and the probiotic effect of the Chaffhaye sounded great.

What I can say: they love it. They nicker for it. They completely clean the feed tubs when I serve it and then carefully pick up any bits that were dropped around the feed tubs. I can see it being especially appreciated during winter months when the grass is gone.

I'm going through a bag about every 8-9 days at this point, under the recommended 10 days that the company suggests, especially during hotter and more humid weather. Thus far I've seen no issues and we've had some hot days - 90 degrees for several days running.

I store the bag in the feed room, in the open, folding the top down as they suggest after serviing.

Unless something changes, Chaffhaye is a new staple in our feed room! 

roses are red

blast it - migraine troubles

We've had a week of unusually high temperatures for this time of year, to the degree that I decided not to even try to ride the Big Bay until the hot spell broke. He's still shedding and between heat and rain and his post-chiro days off, we haven't ridden at all since I got back from my writing retreat time.

Yesterday it was 90 and there was a heat haze over the entire farm, but last night the cold front moved in and it was wonderfully cool this morning. I had coffee and then went out to ride. Keil Bay came directly into the barn when I got out there, as I had told him last night we'd be riding this morning. He was clearly ready.

I did a good grooming and decided the flies are getting annoying enough to warrant putting on his Summer Whinnies. I'm out of practice getting them on and the first one was a bit of a struggle. The easiest way to do it is to use a small plastic bag over the hoof and slide the sock over, then remove the bag and adjust.

Keil Bay loves his Summer Whinnies. He knows from experience that they provide total comfort in fly season, and he actively participates in helping me get them on. I think in the midst of getting that first one on I must have strained really hard while my head was down, and worked up a sweat, and who knows what triggers migraines sometimes, but suddenly there it was, full blown. 

I knew I wasn't going to leave him with one Summer Whinny on and three legs bare, so I took a break and brushed him for a minute, then did the second one. On I went, one leg at a time, taking breaks between each as the migraine worsened. At one point I considered curling up in a stall! After the last one I gave him a peppermint, removed his halter, and told him I'd be back as soon as I could. He looked handsome with his four white socks and his freshly-groomed red bay self.

In the house now, having taken my homeopathic remedy Belladonna, with an ice pack on my neck. The Belladonna works almost instantly to take the severe pain away, and it works really well for the pre-migraine visual auras too. I'm down to a dull ache. 

This is the first time I've ever developed a migraine while in the barn, and I didn't like it one bit. Pondering what triggered it. Hormonal shifts, extreme changes in weather and barometric pressure, certain kinds of intense light, and oh, yes, I haven't eaten anything yet today. 

Sigh.

The worst thing at the moment is that I'm not out there riding! 

Tell me about what you do when something physical keeps you from riding. Misery loves company! :)

UPDATE:

I went back out and rode and it was gorgeous. A light breeze, mid-sixties, and when I got Keil Bay tacked up and we sauntered out of the barn, I glanced back at him and I swear he was 5 years old again. Our combined age is 81 but we are forever young. :)  Horses are the best remedy ever.