Starting the New Year

Now that the book stuff is all sorted -- old challenges put to bed, new challenges accepted, and books chosen -- I can turn my attention to a wrap-up of 2025 and maybe a look ahead into 2026.

I'm not very good with predictions, but I am noticing some trends.

Overall, 2025 was a good year. I celebrated my birthday by making some decisions to expand my life and my circle of friends. It seems to be a pattern right now that I have plenty of friends, but they live far away. I also have plenty of acquaintances, but they, too, live far way. 

I moved to this town as a consequence of my relationship with Kayak Guy. I won't say it was a mistake, but . . . the connection was tenuous. We probably should have thought it through more carefully. Now that relationship has settled into a cordial but distant friendship. For a while we were spending a lot of time together, even after calling it quits romantically. It was casual -- meeting for meals and working on a few projects together -- but it wasn't healthy, so I gradually put a stop to that. 

I don't regret buying my house here -- I got in when good prices were still to be had, so I have equity -- but it locks me into a geographical area that's fairly remote from the places I frequent. I should put down some roots here beyond owning a home, but so far, nothing doing.  

And so, apropos of my birthday, I spent some time thinking about the best times and best friendships of my life in the past, and discovered that they revolved around horseback riding and Dungeons & Dragons (a tabletop roleplaying game or, as I like to call it, collective improvisational storytelling. Sounds fancy, right? If you're not familiar, here's a good introduction: What is D&D.). 

Riding and roleplaying: an odd combination, right? But both are niche hobbies that require a serious time commitment and both attract a certain type of person . . . so I decided to give it a go.

I already started riding a few years back and that has been fun and fulfilling, but it hasn't created much socializing outside of my time at the barn. The barn is an hour away, and the people who meet there for riding and camaraderie live in various directions from that central point. We are all busy and further socializing seems unlikely to happen. 

That left D&D. I played many, many hours in college and enjoyed it immensely. My friends and I formed deep bonds, both within the game and in real life; we ate meals together, threw parties together, and went to events like the local Renaissance Faire together. Then the centrifugal forces of graduation spun us off into various directions at different intervals. We kept in touch for a while afterwards and although the bond remained, our contacts and visits faded with time as we got busy with jobs, marriages, children, and all the details of everyday life. This was years ago, before email, texting, and social media made keeping in touch so much more doable. 

Deciding to pick up the game again, I reached out to my local game store. They were nice people and welcomed me with sound advice about how to get started again. The game has changed a lot since I played in the early 1980s! Their help was very welcome, but that circumstance didn't really gel. There were no beginner-friendly games starting and there were no openings in their existing games, so I looked further afield. About an hour away I found a game store with a very active, beginner-friendly community and signed up immediately to participate.

That turned out to be a fantastic choice! I immediately met a game master who plays exactly the way I liked to play, lo, those many years ago, and several other players who also clicked with his approach. Suddenly I was involved in a Tuesday night game and a Saturday night game, every other week . . .  and my D&D life ramped up to an exciting, enjoyable level.

Things have shifted a little since then. The Tuesday night game ran into some personality conflicts in-game and in real life, and imploded (not uncommon in D&D, which is ultimately a game about people); fortunately, a different Tuesday night game has taken its place. 

I'm also playing in a Saturday night game and having a ball, especially considering how 7 strangers can coalesce into a fun-loving, adventurous party that laughs a lot and also gets things done! We have a wonderful mix of characters and an exciting storyline that challenges us to be heroes every time we play. It's everything I wanted in returning to the game.  

As part of this exploration, I tried on-line play but it didn't work as well for me. I enjoy the camaraderie of sitting around a table with friends, without a lot of tech stuff to navigate. I'm also playing occasionally on Sundays, in a very high level game, but time conflicts are starting to phase that game out.     

I haven't made any strong friends yet, but I'm definitely getting a dose of in-person interaction that enhances my life. I've also discovered that some people at work also play, which gives a different dimension to our water-cooler talk.   

Overall, I'm extremely glad that I took the plunge to start playing again. A little reinvention is good for the soul, you know?

Books Coming Soon

Thanks to my personal resolve and the reading challenges I signed up for, I've been focusing on whittling down the TBR list this year.

I've also been economizing because I'm concerned about national/international financial prospects these days -- you know, the stock market and Social Security and the possibility of my future retirement which is looking pretty dicey right now. 

However, some books have overridden those concerns. Isn't that always the way when something tempting comes along? 

Wasn't it Erasmus who said, "When I have a little money I buy books; and if I have any left, I buy food and clothes?" Yes, indeed, it was. And I can relate!

Both books are so new they are just barely published, but I ordered them from my local independent bookstore and they'll get here when they get here. Then it will be like getting a present, because I've had to wait in anticipation.

They are both horse-related. (No surprise there!) 

This book continues the story of its author's extraordinary life with horses. I heard about Tik, read his first book, found out about a clinic he was teaching, used that as an excuse for a weekend road trip/getaway, and spent most of 2 days watching and listening to him teach various horse and rider combinations, with a blend of traditional instruction and "horse whisperer" methods. I was hooked! That weekend led to my trainer bringing him to our barn twice last year, where I was able to work with him personally. What I learned from Tik has made a huge difference in my relationship with My Boy. 

Not only is Tik the real deal as a clinician, he has twice won the world championship of colt starting, The Road to the Horse, in which competitors put basic training on an untrained horse in just one weekend, watched by judges, spectators, and a broadcast audience. That's international recognition of his methods and his skill. And I can say, personally, everything he brings to the horse-human relationship works darn well in the student-teacher relationship. He is hands down the best listener I have ever met. I hope I get to work with him again. Meanwhile, there's his new book to enjoy.     

This book, on the other hand, is a departure for me. It's a romance, which I have always shunned like the plague. But I'm intrigued by its setting in the eventing world and I figure it's worth a try. This is the first book in a series and if I don't like it, I need read no further. If I do like it, though, there are others. That seems like a risk worth taking.  

Now, if I can manage to buy some food and some clothes, I'll be all set. 

Another Weekend Slips By

It's surprising how quickly this year is going! Not only is it March already, it's the end of March already.  

The weekend began with a good riding lesson on Saturday morning. My Boy and I are pretty well confirmed in walk-trot-canter now. It used to be a very big deal to canter, but I have gotten used to it and now we are doing more complicated figures with changes of direction and changes of lead at the canter.

(About those changes of lead: If you think of a person skipping, when one leg strides out ahead and the other one follows, that's kind of what the horse's 2 pairs of legs are doing at the canter. There are rules about how and when that's done, and the rider is supposed to be in charge of what the horse's legs are doing -- so it's pretty complicated until you master it -- more or less, it's never perfect -- and then it's pretty easy but you are always trying to improve it. If you truly want to know more, there are about a jillion explanations online that you can find and review.)

I intended to clean my tack, shine my boots, and do some stable chores after my ride, but first there was the farrier to observe and chat with. He took off My Boy's shoes, trimmed his hooves, and nailed the shoes on again. I had a bunch of questions for him and it's always fun to watch what he's doing. It's no big deal for the horse -- or at least not for My Boy. He practically fell asleep while the farrier was working. I guess maybe it's like getting a pedicure -- so relaxing, right?

After that I kind of lost my momentum on barnwork. Instead I swung by the tack store to pick up bug repellant (summer is just around the corner, and that means flies, gnats, and mosquitos) and some blanket straps I had ordered (I'll be ready for next winter!), then did chores at home instead. I did some paperwork and filing, worked in the yard a little bit, watered my recently-planted vegetable garden (more on that another time), got cleaned up, did some laundry, played with the cats, made my grocery list, read more of my book, and went to bed early. That made for a satisfying and relaxing Saturday.

Sunday was quite similar. I talked on the phone with my dearest friend who is visiting friends and family in Australia. Yes, we remarked on how amazing it was that we could chat all the way around the world and it sounded like she was merely next door! I can remember on the infrequent international phone calls of the past -- very expensive, so very brief -- there was a bit of a pause while our voices traveled across the ocean on a wire. How far we have come, technologically speaking. But we still blather on like a couple of schoolgirls. That part hasn't changed at all!

After that I did more small chores around the house, refreshed the compost pile in the yard, harvested and ate 3 delicious tiny tomatoes, took myself out for a late lunch/early dinner of barbecue, dropped off some donations at the charity shop, did the grocery shopping, played with the cats, reviewed all the mail, read some more, and again went to bed reasonably early. 

I feel like I got a lot done, but I wasn't frantic about it. There is always more to do, and it's important to slip in time to enjoy things, too. 

Now for the work week! 

Starting the New Year Right

It's a little disorienting to have the new year arrive in the middle of the week, but I've made the best of it. 

The fireworks weren't too terribly loud, although they unexpectedly started at dusk, not at midnight. I coaxed Mr. Moo from his safe space (behind the washer) to a carrier and stowed him in the bathroom, so he could miss the worst of it. I had a DVD playing and the window shades drawn. If any of the cats seemed nervous, I deployed some Boom Treats (Temptations are the brand of choice, if you're interested), trying to give the noise a positive association. The Gang of Three (more on them later) were unphased; in fact, the first time I checked on them, they were sitting in the window, looking out to see what all the fuss was about. The Inside Guys seemed to think it was just another night, with extra treats. Miss Piecey disappeared to her safe space (location unknown) but was back bright and early for breakfast as usual. She's a resilient little girl.   

I'm so very lucky that my immediate neighbors don't go crazy with the pyrotechnics. Overall it wasn't such a bad night for me. Having it fall during the week may have helped.

(PSA: Others -- veterans and others with PTSD, wildlife, pets, and livestock -- suffer much more than I do from fireworks. There are also pollution and air quality to consider. Fireworks are imported from China -- who knows what is in them? I would prefer we didn't have them, or that they were replaced with drones or silent fireworks to satisfy our collective need for spectacle.)  

On New Year's Day, the barn where I ride has a tradition of a trail ride, lake swim, and potluck lunch. My Boy's other person did the riding and swimming, and I took photos and provided ground support from the chase vehicle. We had 14 horse-and-rider combinations and they all behaved very well, with only a small kerfuffle when we turned for home -- the horses definitely knew it! There was some prancing involved, but they quickly settled down again for the walk back.

Then we had a wonderful potluck lunch that included a baked potato bar, lucky black-eyed pea salad with a Greek twist, shrimp cocktail, meatballs, various chips, veggies, and dips, cookies, chocolate strawberries, and a hot apple cobbler. The weather was perfect and everyone's dogs got along and had a grand old time roughhousing. We know how to ride, we know how to eat, and we know how to socialize!   

Thursday it was back to my regular routine of work and a riding lesson. It was the first of the year for both, and the perfect way to set the tone for what's to come.  

Now that the holidays are behind me, I'm hoping I can do a bit of review for 2024 and make some plans for 2025. I'd like to do some traveling, be more effective at work, finish some projects around the house, and keep improving my riding and relationship with My Boy. I don't set concrete goals, but I do like to identify focus areas. It seems to help keep me out of the weeds and on the path. And that's where My Boy and I want to be!

My Boy says he would like to eat a lot more peppermints in 2025, so there's that, too.

Milestones

This week marks a significant birthday for me. I will achieve an age I never imagined I would be: 65. 

My last birthday was a strange one, because I became an age that my mother did not live past. Now I will be older than she ever was. I think she hated growing old, and that passage was made harder for both of us by my teenage flourishing at the same time she was navigating menopause. I don't know -- I'm just guessing. We never had the chance to discuss it, and maybe we never would have discussed it, even if she had lived longer. But being this age has given me new insight into her experience. 

Now I am looking into chronological territory inhabited by my dad (who lived to 76) and his mother (who lived to 93). Those are the milestones of my future, still in the far distance. 

A milestone birthday does make you think about things, though. 

My friends are retiring and I am so happy for them. I don't feel envious; I like my life as it is. (I wouldn't turn down that winning lottery ticket, but otherwise . . .  no changes needed.) I expect to keep working, partly because it's smarter financially and partly because I enjoy it. My job is high satisfaction and low stress, and I'm very happy to keep rolling along there, still good at what I do. 

Horseback riding continues to be a great joy. My schedule is flexible, the people are wonderful, and Riddle is a willing and generous partner who takes good care of me. I'm so glad I started again just a year ago. I will continue as long as I'm able, and I think continuing will help keep me able. 

I wish the Medicare salespeople would Quit! Calling! Me! as I am not signing up for anything. One of the benefits of working is keeping my employer-provided insurance. Medicare would not be cheaper or better. (I checked.)

I am changing my attitudes about things, though, well aware (in a cheerful way) that I have limited time left. 

Less time dedicated to "self-improvement" and more time at home in my skin. 

Less concern with what others think about me and more concern with what I think about me. 

Less volunteering to serve every need and more availability for what matters most. 

Less putting things off for "someday" and more commitment to enjoying things now. 

Right now, also: less salad and more cake!     

Hay Wagon

I'm still thinking about doing a "year in review" (hopefully in January while it's still fresh, but one never knows). In the meantime, I can confidently say that taking up horseback riding again was the year's highlight. 

I rode as a kid and was interested in one thing -- horses! --  from, as my mother told me, "the moment you knew what one was." In elementary school I remember my teachers begging me to write larger (I had miniscule handwriting) and write about something besides horses. After a childhood spent at the barn every day, I quit riding in my teens, after a serious injury put my horse on stall rest for about 6 months, giving me time to develop a life that wasn't centered on riding and competition.

I took it up again in my late twenties, and kept on with it for a few years. It was lovely for a while, as my then-husband enthusiastically took up the sport, too. When that marriage became shaky, financial pressure forced me to give up riding again while I figured out how to support myself as a single person, something I'd never really done. 

In my late forties I rode a little, volunteered with a horse rescue, and volunteered a lot with the U.S. Pony Club, a wonderful organization that educated me into a horseman, not just a rider, when I was a child. Riding is just one of the skills you need to be around horses and do them justice: there's also caring for the horse, veterinary knowledge, use and care of the equipment, proper feeding, safety, property management, and a jillion other things you should know. I remembered the "old ladies" who ran the Pony Club when I was a teen (they seemed ancient to me, then!) and embraced my chance to be one of them. I had some great experiences with my feet on the ground rather than in the stirrups, and enjoyed mentoring the next generation of horsewomen.    

Now I'm in my sixties (how did that happen?) and in 2023 I decided that since kayaking is on the wane as a pastime, I'd try riding again. It's a challenge to recover old skills that grew rusty with time and to develop the particular mix of strength and suppleness that good riding requires.  

What hasn't been difficult -- thank goodness! -- has been finding "my people" again. Thanks to volunteering with Pony Club, I still have contacts in the horse world locally. A friend suggested a barn, I already knew the owner/coach, and it was obvious from the first day that I'd found where I wanted to be. It's been a delight to meet new folks who share my passion, and to find a horse to ride who forgives my mistakes while I revive my dormant skills. Pony Club now accepts adult members, so I have joined again. Work has been very understanding about giving me a flexible schedule, making riding time possible. And the peacefulness that comes from being around horses defies description. If you know, you know.

This photo shows a glimpse of the evening turnout process. The horses go out all night to graze and play, which is healthy for them and works well with the heat during our Florida summers. As the sun drops low and the light softens, these two are following the hay wagon to their pasture, snacking all the way. 

If I did nothing else of note in 2023, taking up riding again would be enough to make it a very good year.

A Special Moment

I spent the weekend volunteering as a jump judge at a local riding competition. There isn't much to the "judging" part as long as all goes well. It's essentially Pass/Fail: did they jump over the jump on the first try, or not?     

There's a judge at each jump over a course that covers a couple of miles and the horse-and-rider pairs arrive about 2 minutes apart. Most of them jump over the obstacle without incident and gallop away. But when something happens -- the horse doesn't jump on the first try, or the second, or the third, or the rider falls off, 2 minutes is not a lot of time before another galloping pair approaches. That's when being the judge requires some grace under pressure.

Not only are you in charge of reminding the rider to move out of the way and allow the other competitor to pass, or that they've used all their chances and are eliminated, you have to report on the radio while things are happening, so the folks in charge know what's up. And if the rider falls off, you're the one who calls it in, asking for medical, the veterinarian, or course repair, depending on what's needed. It can get pretty intense there for a bit. 

Fortunately, "safety first" is a big part of the sport and injuries are infrequent. Folks do fall off, though.

I had one rider fall off at my jump yesterday. She didn't land on her feet, either, which is even more concerning. 

Usually when the rider falls off, the horse gets loose and takes off for the barn. They've been galloping, they're pretty excited, they're maybe a little scared or a little lonely, and they seek the security of the stables and the company of their horse friends, so off they go. The rider gets a long walk back to think about what went wrong. 

But in this case, the horse stayed right with the rider. Per the protocol, I went up to her to ask if she was all right and see how she was doing, and the horse was right there. She seemed okay, but she was having trouble catching her breath. She told me she had asthma and just needed a few minutes. And during the time that she waited, her beautiful horse stood close to her and put his forehead against her upper arm, and just waited.

Horses are marvelous, but they aren't really companion animals. It's not uncommon for a dog or a cat to curl up with you when you're having a bad day. And yet, horses have an innate ability to sense human emotions and react to them, and I've never seen a more lovely example of communion between horse and human than I saw between those two. He knew just what she needed to steady herself, and he gave it.

Nothing But Fun on Labor Day Weekend

Oh, the joy of a little bit of almost everything: a visit with Kayak Guy's family, the beach (snorkeling, seashells, fishes, and a giant manta ray), and horses -- plus eating, reminiscing over old photos, and lots of laughter.

Perfect!

Blowing Rocks Beach

Butler

Radar

Kayak Guy's parents, Marshall and Mary

A "No Post" Post

I had all weekend to write a post, but I didn't. Instead, I . . .

1. Recovered from organizing our annual conference at work, starting with dinner on Thursday and going all day Friday. So many moving pieces to coordinate into the same time/space dimension! It's both exhilarating and exhausting, and usually creates a bit of a crash when it's over. This year was no exception.

2. Hung out with the Pony Club kids and parents.

3. Went hiking! The (literally) chilling effect of temps in the 30s was totally offset by the allure of sunny, bright blue skies and the sparkling beauty of remote springs, whose water was at 72 degrees. Yes, I tested it with my own cold hands.

This one is called Bear Cub or Rock Cub. See the little bear in the bottom center, facing the camera and having a taste?

News?

Lately, this blog hasn't been such a good fit for me. Even after I took a vacation from posting, it didn't really catch fire again.

Other bloggers talk about losing their "mojo," but I've been thinking about this a lot and my issue involves more than that. As near as I can figure it, what has happened is that life has changed, but the blog has not. Or, at least, the blog has not kept up. More and more I find that what I want to talk about is off limits for the blog.

Part of this is because I'm trying to maintain my privacy. I enjoy the freedom of saying what I want without wondering if my neighbor, my boss, or anyone else who knows my name is only a Google search away from knowing my innermost thoughts (perhaps even my innermost thoughts about them). Folks who can cope with that kind of visibility, more power to you! But your approach is not for me.

Part of this is that I am trying to focus on a few areas and create some consistency. Despite the Cafe's promise that "you can never predict what will be on the menu," I pretty much stick to books and reading, with occasional forays into whatever else strikes my fancy. I think y'all expect it of me by now, and the blogging advice I have read encourages a targeted approach. So some things have been simply off topic.

But now, after months of leaving certain things out, I am chafing at the restrictions of what I can't say. Ignoring certain things, I feel almost like I'm telling a lie, and it saps my blogging energy and distances me from you, my bloggy friends. And overall, it makes blogging less fun.

I'm not working up to any massive revelations here, but I do think some catching up is in order. Perhaps you can think of this as one of those long Christmas letters some folks send, where they compress a whole year into 2 pages. I love reading those, even when they are filled with bragging. People reveal themselves when they write, period. I like reading along and seeing what they reveal. So . . . here goes with a long-term update. Draw your own conclusions!

C.S. and I started this blog back in 2008 while I was studying for the bar exam. It was just one of many fun things we did together. If you've been reading along, you've been privy to some of our travel adventures, bookstore rambles, and book award obsessions. Early this year that relationship came to an end, although this archive of those good times remains. I still miss him sometimes, and I imagine he sometimes misses me. Putting that into words, here on the blog that we started together, may be the final step in letting go.

I recently started horseback riding again, and while this will not turn into a riding blog, I may start posting occasionally about the thrills, rewards, and disappointments of spending a chunk of my life around horses. I rode as a child, and also as a young married. When you are born with horses in your blood, they never go away. Ownership is out of my financial reach, but I am half-leasing Travis, who brings me much joy. Isn't he incredibly handsome?

Last but not least, I recently met someone who has all the hallmarks of being someone special. Him I am not planning to talk about much, but merely acknowleging that he exists relieves some of the psychic pressure.

After a long time in dormancy, my life seems ready to grow again. Now that I've come clean about these changes, the blog can grow, too.

I'll leave it to you to determine whether this news is even news. Thank you for listening. I feel better now.

Two for Four

Alas, I didn't do so well on the second go-round of the Pre-Printing Press Challenge. My lack of accomplishment in no way reflects the excellent efforts of Elena at All Booked Up to encourage us all to read books published before 1440 (when the printing press was invented).  Thank you, Elena!

Instead, my poor showing was due to the deadly combination of two books that just didn't do anything for me (Heroditus's Histories and Bede's Ecclesiastical History of the English People) and a time crunch. Laziness and disorganization may have also had something to do with it, but I intend to gloss over that.

I was surprised that I didn't like historians Heroditus and Bede better, but it didn't take me too long to start hearing that little voice in my head, saying "Life is too short to read books you don't like."  I could have read on, but I chose not to.  As far as I'm concerned, one king's pretty much the same as another. 

The two books I finished, though, were worth reading, one much more than the other.



First, Old English Poems and Riddles.  I love this material, having read quite a bit of it before.  However, it really fell flat in this translation. Could the translation have made the difference?  I have remembered a certain stirring speech all the way from sophomore Anglo Saxon Literature class (a heartthrob course that has encouraged my starry-eyed love of Tolkein and Beowulf ever since, not to mention all those hours I spent playing Dungeons & Dragons).  But even that very speech wasn't anything noble here. Color me disappointed.   

Next up, The Art of Horsemanship, an oldie but goodie that I should have read back in the day, when I ate/breathed/slept nothing but horses and horseback riding.  This one has held up surprisingly well.  It seems that a person who understands horses understands horses, period. Even if they and the horses both are from circa 350 BCE. And it doesn't hurt Xenophon's resume to see that he was a student of Socrates. 

This is a good translation that gets all the equestrian vocabulary right, but I suspect the original (the earliest known work on horse and riding, no less) is a beacon of clarity, too.  I found it particularly interesting that although the horse is clearly being trained as a vehicle of war here (there is a whole section devoted to teaching the horse the best ways to maneuver while being pursued by an armed enemy), the emphasis is the same as in the modern day: a horse that is a responsive, supple, well-mannered and willing partner, all set out in clear, precise prose. Good riding and good writing will both withstand the test of time. 

Excerpt: 

The one great precept and practice in using a horse is this, -- never deal with him when you are in a fit of passion. A fit of passion is a thing that has no foresight in it, and so we often have to rue the day when we gave way to it. Consequently, when your horse shies at an object and is unwilling to go up to it, he should be shown that there is nothing fearful in it, least of all to a courageous horse like him; but if this fails, touch the object yourself that seems so dreadful to him, and lead him up to it with gentleness. Compulsion and blows inspire only the more fear; for when horses are at all hurt at such a time, they think that what they shied at is the cause of the hurt.

Our Horses in Egypt

This book was not easy to read, but boy, I sure liked it. (Thank goodness for the Battle of the Prizes - British Version, which gave me the impetus to read it.)

The subject is British horses who were donated as mounts for the British army during World War I, back when the horse was a vehicle of war. Such horses went from being pampered possessions used for hacking and foxhunting to being troop horses.

They started out being ridden across the lush green English countryside by fond, aristocratic owners and cared for by dedicated grooms, who kept their stalls fresh and dry, gave them baths and massages, fed them high-quality grain and hay, and saw to their proper veterinary and hoof care. And they ended up being ridden and cared for by British soldiers who might or might not have known anything about horses before receiving their training, on short, inferior rations and little water, across rough terrain and desert sand, in horrendous heat, while being shot at.

After the war, the army sold the horses off to the Egyptian locals rather than shipping them home. Their peacetime lot was worse than the war had been: endless work and poor nutrition, without the care and consideration that the British army had required of its horse soldiers.

Despite occasional bright spots, this is a story of their hardship, told in microcosm through the life and understanding of one Philomena, a tough mare who manages to survive the war while her several human companions do not.

It is also the story of Griselda, who mortgages her inheritance to travel to Egypt after the war, dragging along her daughter and the nanny, in the seemingly hopeless search to find Philomena and bring her home. Along the way Griselda flaunts convention, pays a social price for her behavior, defies good sense, and refuses to give up. For all her dainty English manners, Griselda proves to be a tough mare, too.

There is something quintessentially British about all this, both in story and in delivery. It is told in choppy style, largely through dialog and a disjointedly omniscient point of view. Sometimes it's difficult to tell what is happening, because British phrasing and references go unexplained and are not elaborated upon. Which is not to say it didn't make me weep at the end. An altogether marvellous book, made all the more marvellous by being based in fact.

Excerpt:

This officer had regarded the mare measuringly, in the course of parades.

Many a dark brown had a mealy muzzle. A washier brown was a less common colour. Saddle marks, galls and injury had left white in her coat.

His fingers wandered over the dents in her quarter and belly.

A quality brown mare, with a mealy muzzle, an intelligent head and a neck the set-on of which was, a trifle, perhaps, quaint caused him to search his memory. Until, one day, he sauntered over to gaze at her in the lines; felt positive, and said, 'Isn't it Philomena? What is this horse's name, Trooper?'

Many a Prince or a Samson was Bobby or Blackie. Philomena had remained Philomena.

Grazebrook's face (long lashes and raddled cheeks) lit up!

The migrating storks flew overhead and there were blooms of every kind. The almond blossom had been displaced by fleshy green nut-cases. It was a time, in Palestine, of scented evenings, and of burgeoning insects.

S-p-o-i-l-e-d

I am still too busy for my personal taste, but it's with good things so no complaints!

I finally made it to a couple of Spring Training games, and my baseball jones is satisfied for a while. (You heard it here first: taking vacation days so I can go to the ballgame while others are working is one of life's sweetest pleasures.) The college teams are still playing, and the summer league starts in June, which means my favorite part of the year is upon us.

I spent the weekend with kids and horses. I had to do a little math as Chief Scorer for the competition (to earn my keep, so to speak), but it was totally and completely worthwhile. The head official was someone I took a clinic with many moons ago, when I was about 12. He was about 18 then and went on to ride with the Olympic team, compete in England, etc., etc. He's a big deal in the horse world and I'm a nobody, but with horses in common there are no barriers to conversation, no matter who you're talking to. It was amazing to cross paths again after all these years. He didn't remember me at all (how many little blonde girls do you think he met in those days?), but he was very gracious.

What remains of my 12-year-old heart was broken to discover I'm apparently the last person in the world to know that he's gay. But my grown-up heart is pleased that we re-met as adults and have a fresh start without all that leftover adolescent crush stuff getting in the way. (Kind of a relief, you know?)

Now I am gathering the courage to organize a clinic next fall, so my friends' kids can learn from him, just as I did when I was their age. It will be quite an undertaking but a major coup if I can pull it off. Wish me luck!

The super-moon was definitely gorgeous! I hope you saw it. The horse thing often requires an early start (this is dawn, not dusk) but it is 100% worth it.

Another favorable blast from the past arrived in the form of a rental car. My car needed some work that insurance covered, and the rental they gave me is a brand new Jeep Patriot with only 1,344 miles on it. They were assuring me "We'll have your car back to you just as soon as we can, m'am" and I was all "Oh, no, really, take as long as you like!"

It's a total flashback to my days driving a Jeep Cherokee, which I loved almost as much as I loved my Sierra pick-up truck. (You might not guess that this suburban girl is pretty country, too. It's the horse thing again. Gotta have a vehicle with some space and some power.) I'm fighting the impulse to rush over to my favorite dealer and come home with a Jeep of my own. Having no ready cash is really the only thing stopping me. (Merely a detail!)

Still, having a little test drive is great fun. As the GEICO commercial says, "I gots to ride up in style." For another day or so, anyway.

Back in the Saddle

Gosh, what happened to January? It is not a good omen for the year when I have that "you must have blinked, you missed it" feeling already.

Our annual major conference at work was this past Friday and it was a rousing success. Both of our main presenters arrived on time from Canada and Maine, despite weather-related travel woes. The attendance and the networking were good, the presentations were fantastic, and all the student volunteers showed up on time and worked like bees. I was thrilled that our keynote speaker, an internationally known expert on clean water as a human right, ended her talk with a quote from J.R.R. Tolkien!

Not only that, but the selected-guests-only dinner afterwards was one of those magical evenings where strangers talked like old friends about children, books, work, politics, and practically everything else. I knew it was going well when I saw everyone passing their plates around so they could taste each other's food. (Note to self: Tapas restaurant = stroke of genius.)

Now, of course, I am exhausted. Saturday was such a crash, I can hardly describe it. I was headachey, bone-sore, don't-want-to-get-out-of-bed tired.

Of course, in a fit of optimism, I had made plans to go horseback riding with a friend first thing Saturday morning. I dragged myself out there anyway, despite my reluctance to do anything.

Now I get to talk about Ranger. Ranger is a 17-year-old buckskin of no particular breed, who my friend and her husband bought in Hawaii and took with them to Louisiana and then here to Florida. We call Ranger "The King of the Horses." There's just something about him. Everyone who spends 5 minutes with him falls under his spell. He has a very old, very canny soul. He can be a bit of a challenge, especially if you ask him to do things he personally is not too interested in doing. (He hates working in the arena, for example.)

But in general, he is totally safe, bombproof, and unflappable. He's the husband horse, the grandmother horse, the toddler horse, the "my friend is terrified of horses but wants to go riding anyway" horse.

I don't fall into any of those categories, but Saturday I was ever so happy to let Ranger take care of me. I felt lousy, so I was all "Okay, Ranger, you drive."

My friend and her daughter took me around the neighborhood trails, where we saw some deer bones, a 6-foot black racer snake, a kid on a mini-bike, and another friend on her horse. And after a while, I began to feel better. Horses can do that.

Serendipity, and a Pretty Good Book, Too

I heard the author interviewed on NPR about this book, so I picked it up at the library. It doesn't fully count as challenge reading, except as one of the 50 I'm determined to read this year. I thought it was just impulse reading, but not too far in, I found out there was a reason I was reading it.

The book itself is an interesting, fast-paced combination of memoir and non-fiction, with a little essay thrown in here and there. The author talks about his relationship with his father--the sportswriter of the title--in a way that is sentimental but not maudlin. He also weaves in various horse-related subjects. The jumping-off point is that near the end of his life, asked to name his best memory from the sports events he'd covered, the author's father named Secretariat's Kentucky Derby. I might have to agree with his choice. Secretariat didn't just win the Derby convincingly, he did it by running each quarter of the race faster than the one before it. In other words, Secretariat was still accelerating when he crossed the finish line. Horses just don't do that.

Because of his father's statement, the author got interested in Thoroughbred racing, and this book is the result. I was a little distracted here and there by some inaccuracies (he has trouble keeping straight the difference between a bridle and a halter, for example), but overall this is a very enjoyable read regardless of whether you are a horse person.

And the best part for me? I had been researching a fairly obscure point to include in an article I'm collaborating on at work, and having trouble finding just the right information for what I wanted to say. While reading this book purely for pleasure, lo and behold, I stumbled upon exactly the information I needed! Don't you just love it when the Universe sends you stuff like that? I sure do.

Excerpt:

[At the Keeneland yearling auction:] The pavilion was all motion, people and horses making figure eights from one end to the other, assistants whispering on cell phones, race fans wandering aimlessly. There are so many things happening in so many different places at a yearling sale (and in this it is utterly unlike a traditional auction) that I quickly got disoriented trying to put the picture together: it was like trying to learn economics by standing on the floor of the stock exchange. Conversations at these sales tend to be short and vague--everyone's eyes are continuously moving, taking in the parade of potential, not wanting to miss the one.

On Track

I'm beginning to think novelty is the secret to a good charity event. It certainly motivated me to join up when I read that Thoroughbred Retirement of Tampa (TROT) was sponsoring a fundraiser on Kentucky Derby Day, May 1, that included a chance to walk around the racetrack at Tampa Bay Downs.

TROT does wonderful work trying to save racehorses who can no longer race from fates sometimes worse than death. That's racing's dirty secret: when they don't produce victories for their owners, those beautiful animals frequently go to horrible conditions and then to the slaughterhouse. Often their physical problems would allow them to become a nice riding horse for a private owner, even if they aren't capable of racing anymore. But it takes time, money, space, and expertise to help them make that transition. TROT's mission is about all of those things.

So I was very happy to help out by showing up to walk a mile for the cause.

We had a police escort.

We were joined by Mouse, the miniature horse mascot of Tampa Bay Downs. Isn't she tiny? And she's wearing a teeny tiny racing saddle, too!

Here we are at the starting line. It was great to walk on the track! Very springy, and they had helpfully used their giant grading machines to make the surface smooth for us. As you can see, it was a beautiful day, trending into summer with temps in the low 90s. That's the clubhouse off to the right.

Around the first turn. Straight ahead in the background is the "backside," with the stalls where the racehorses are stabled. You can also see the second rail of the turf course here. Sometimes they race on grass instead of on dirt.

You can also see that it didn't take long for us to spread out considerably, everyone walking at our own pace! There was no betting on who would finish first or last.

Here's the view of the clubhouse and grandstand from directly across the track. You are a long way from home at this point!

Around the final turn and into the homestretch. I imagine that during the races, the jockeys don't even know the clubhouse and grandstand are full of people yelling their heads off. It's a long way away, and I'm sure between concentrating on what your horse is doing and the sound of galloping hooves, you might as well be in another world.

Sorry these are so distant. I was really impressed with the spaciousness of the track, when you are out on it. It's quite a contrast from being in the stands, which is more like a traditional sporting event and attracts the same kind of Joe Average crowd.

After the walk, I had a really delicious lunch of chicken nuggets and fries in the grandstand, and then lost my entire $20 betting budget in $2 increments in about 3 hours. (Oh, yeah, I'm a high roller, all right!)

The track doesn't have a rarefied atmosphere like you see on t.v. unless you're in the Jockey Club, which I was not. Maybe next year. But then I would have to wear a hat, wouldn't I?

Playing Catch-Up

I was out of town all weekend at a horse competition (watching, not riding) and now I am running behind big-time. Guess I am getting more done on the weekends than I thought! As a result of my absence, I have nothing to wear (all suitable clothing is in the laundry), have no posts prepared, have visited my favorite bloggy haunts only sporadically, and owe letters and e-mails to everyone in my address book.

Okay, then, what's the good news?

My friend's kids were great sports and had a wonderful time, even though their team scores were not very good. They were scrambled with other girls, but strangers quickly became friends over the course of two days together. Lots of hugs and exchanging of phone numbers when it came time to say goodbye.

I noted that when these nine- to twelve-year-olds exchange phone numbers, they don't tell them to each other, they just swap phones and log in their own number in each other's phones. How they know how to program a different model, I'll never understand. It's all I can do to remember how to work my own phone!

I didn't get sunburned, despite spending two whole days outdoors.

I only got a few splinters from lifting gates and jumping poles.

I slept like a rock every night.

I met lots of nice people, even a few I exchanged info with (the old-fashioned way, with paper and pen).

Now, if I can just come up with something to wear to work . . . .

Two of the Next Household Words

If you don't recognize the names Rachel Alexandra and Zenyatta, today's a good day to remedy that little gap in your knowledge. Even if you don't follow Thoroughbred racing, I recommend that you check out these two wonderful female athletes.

Rachel Alexandra embarrassed the top fillies in the country last May in the female equivalent of the Kentucky Derby, the Kentucky Oaks. In the Preakness, she beat the top colts, too. She did it again in the Haskell.

Zenyatta is an older mare and she's beaten the boys, too, in the biggest race of the year, the Breeders Cup Classic. In 14 races, she hasn't lost yet.

For now, which one is better is pure speculation. Maybe this year they will race against each other for the first time and we'll get to see how they stack up.

Meanwhile, their separate 2010 debuts are live on the internet TODAY at 6:00 p.m. Eastern time. Click here to see that.

Shopping is Fun

The joys of shopping aren't news to most people, but I tend to be rather frugal on anything except books, so a splurge is quite the rush for me. Here's how I learned this most recently:

A simply wonderful tote bag that I acquired through my blog buddy Oreneta, from Spain by way of Canada. Her help with that purchase was definitely above and beyond the call of bloggery and I'm still in her debt.

The bag is made from repurposed advertising posters in kind of a laminated fabric. I feel terribly hip and eco-friendly whenever I carry it, even if all I'm wearing is the same old t-shirt and jeans. The two sides are so different, it's like having two different bags. And check out the interesting horse, too! How perfect is that? Look for me in the pages of In Style any day now.

Warm fleecy slippers from L.L. Bean. We have had an unusually cold winter and I finally decided socks alone just weren't cutting it. Now all I can say is, man, I should have bought these back in November. Warm feet make the rest of the body happy as well.

"Needs" for my horse hobby include an appropriate piece of non-flattering headgear and even less flattering riding pants. But the helmet was on sale and I scored these brand new breeches at a sidewalk sale for $25, marked down from $90. I'll get good use out of both of them. Trust me.

Last but not least: When C.S. was here this week, we made a pilgrimage to Ikea, one of the few stores that we completely agree is worth spending hours just browsing in. I splurged on a $7 closet organizer and I figure this little gem saves me about $250 on a dresser. It also saves me from keeping my unmentionables in a drawer in the living room. And that's a good thing.

Meet Teddy

I meant to do a bang-up post on my tentative re-entry into the horse world, but I haven't managed to write it yet (even after becoming more and more immersed in this hobby/lifestyle over the past 2 months), so I guess it will have to be piecemeal.

My re-entry started with the idea to volunteer with a horse rescue and sponsor a rescue horse, as a way of getting my feet wet. I rode as a kid and as an adult, and it's never gotten out of my blood. When I found some spare time, I decided to have some fun with the horse thing again.

The rescue horse I sponsor is named Teddy. His real name is Roving Eye. He was quite a fancy racehorse back in the day. He won a race at Aqueduct in New York in 1999, and put up some good speed figures. They were probably thinking about the Kentucky Derby for him, back then. But something derailed his racing career (probably injuries) and he wound up stuck out in a field, half-starved and with some major medical issues. Somebody noticed and cared, and he came to the rescue barn.

Three months ago, just after I started sponsoring him, Teddy was having serious issues with his feet. He developed extremely painful abscesses in both front feet and we were afraid he was getting laminitis, another kind of excruciating internal hoof inflammation. The old saying "No foot, no horse" was almost literally true in his case. His feet were so painful that he could hardly bear to stand on them, and bedrest simply isn't an option for horses. It was touch and go from day to day; he was right on the edge where it would have been a kindness to put him out of his misery.

And then, in October, he turned a corner. His special diet seemed to take effect. He had a couple of medical breakthroughs (literally! the abscesses worked their way to the surface and burst open, which sounds nasty but is actually what we were hoping would happen), and x-rays showed he had not developed laminitis. The farrier applied some special, very expensive shoes that give him extra support, and he was able to go out in the pasture. Now he is feeling wonderful and the cold weather has made him quite frisky. Aren't you glad he pulled through? I know I am!