I rode Reo yesterday, and I am stiff today.  In actuality, I should go ride again today, and again tomorrow, and so on.  I must admit, however, that I do not feel like doing horse riding today.  I want to stay home and water the lawn, or read a book I just got from the library (The Bridal Chair – biofiction re Ida Chagall), or vacuum and dust.  But, I also feel compelled to go to the barn and give my old horse, Buddy, his extra nutrients so that he won’t continue to lose weight.   Do I enjoy my horse time?  Almost always, especially when I finally arrive at the barn.  And since I will be there, why not take Reo out and ride for a half-hour?  Because I don’t want to ride today.   Some days I wonder why I spend time and money on horses.   Usually, those thoughts come on a day when I am sore, or the weather is perfect for sitting on the patio listening to birds, or I feel like spending time doing something with my husband.  And guilt comes into play here, also.  I am compelled to check on my horses.  I cannot sit and relax without seeing and touching them.  I pay tons of money to have them in a safe place, and yet I cannot spend a peaceful day away from them.  I understand this is a compulsion, and I believe I was born with the need to be around horses.    This is my self-analysis:  I am simply nuts.

Published by mjm1942

I have aged. Of course. I was born in Trenton, NJ in 1942. I now live in Kentucky. It's 2019. My marriage has lasted 56 years, and I still love the man. My three children live far from us, and we do miss them; however, it's fine with just he and me. We are best friends. I love my dogs and my horses. I have failed as a writer (dreams died long ago), but I still dabble now and then. I have always been restless; perhaps because I have moved so many times in my life. I feel like something is waiting to happen around the corner. I graduated from Salem College at 55 years of age. I am a woman.

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