Roshambo

I Love My Scottish Ancestry.

A Scotsman and an Englishman lived next door to each other. 

The Scotsman owned a hen and each morning he would look in his garden and pick up one of his hen's eggs for breakfast. 

One day he looked into his garden and saw that the hen had laid an egg in the Englishman's garden. He was about to go next door when he saw the Englishman pick up the egg. 

The Scotsman ran up to the Englishman and told him that the egg belonged to him because he owned the hen. 

The Englishman disagreed because the egg was laid on his property. 

They argued for a while until finally the Scotsman said, "In my family we normally solve disputes by the following actions: I kick you in the testicles and time how long it takes for you to get back up. Then you kick me in the testicles and time how long it takes for me to get up. Whoever gets up quicker wins the egg." 

The Englishman agreed to this and so the Scotsman put on the heaviest pair of boots he could find. He took a few steps back, then ran toward the Englishman and kicked him as hard as he could in the testicles. 

The Englishman fell to the floor clutching his groin, howling in agony for 30 minutes. 

Eventually the Englishman stood up and said, "Now it's my turn to kick you." 

The Scotsman smiled and said, "Ye can keep the damn egg!!"

Thanks

A guy walks into a bar with an octopus. He sits the octopus down on a stool and tells everyone in the bar that this is a very talented octopus. He can play any musical instrument in the world. He hears everyone in the crowd laughing at him, calling him an idiot, etc. So he says that he will wager $50 to anyone who has an instrument that the octopus can't play. 

A guy walks up with a guitar and sets it beside the octopus. The octopus starts playing better than Jimi Hendrix, just rippin' it up. So the man pays his $50. Another guy walks up with a trumpet. The octopus plays the trumpet better than Dizzie Gillespie. So the man pays his $50. Then a Scotsman walks up with bagpipes. He sits them down and the octopus fumbles with it for a minute and sits it down with a confused look. 

"Ha!" the Scot says. "Can't you play it?" 

The octopus looks up at him and says, "Play it? I'm going to screw it as soon as I figure out how to get its pajamas off."

Thanks

Darwin Award Contestants.

Wait, what?

Okay, everyone knows the truth is stranger than fiction. But c’mon!!!! This isn’t just strange..it’s NUTS! 

I dare you, dear readers, to conceive this…

The 6 Strangest Objects People Were Caught Having Sex With.

“Have you ever walked past a piece of furniture or some other inanimate object and thought, "Hey, that's got a hole in it. I wonder if I can stick my dick in there..."

If you have, you're not alone. Either due to bizarre sexual fetishes or just plain boredom, men have gotten caught screwing anything and everything. Some of which don't even seem possible. Take for instance…”

Go ahead. Click the link and read. 

To Show, Or Not To Show...?

Hmmm...I'm thinking of putting Storm in some Dressage classes this fall or winter. Maybe Sweetheart as well. 

Could venture into some low-mid level eventing with Stormy. He's a blast!! 

Thoughts? Comments? 

Haven't been in the show ring in years... I've stuck to the endurance trails with Sheebah - which i'm still on, full force! So this will be revisiting OLD times for me. 

Hmmm...

Peaceful

Horses have always soothed the soul.

Today I rode Storm again. He was peaceful. We walked, trotted, cantered and played. I groomed Scarlet. Pulled her mane, so she now looks like the little hunter pony she will soon be. So cute! Sheebah wanted some loving. So I combed her mane and tail, groomed her and told her how much I love and adore her. 

Horses are so soothing. I’d been feeling restless and *off*. But as soon as I sniffed a horse, all was right with the world. Now I may be able to sleep tonight. 

Love and Nickers. 

The Sting of Rejection.

Cathartic Ramblings 

This is simply what the tag says… Cathartic Ramblings. I’ve been feeling…down lately. And that has brought back all of the rejections in my life. 

Rejection sucks. It’s hard, it scars. And it never completely goes away. Loving people means giving them power over you.. The power to walk away. 

There’s a saying.. If you love something, you have to let it go. If it comes back, it was meant to be. If not, then it never was. I don’t know if I agree with this or not. I think people come in your life, and leave. Everyone serves a purpose. I don’t know if anyone is meant to stay forever. Maybe some people. But in a lifetime, maybe a handful of people are meant to stay. 

It’s sad. It’s hard. It’s heartbreaking learning how to let go. 

What is the worth, the value of human relationships? And not just the love-affairs. Father/daughter. Mother/daughter. Sister/sister. Friend/friend. Lover/lover. Everything. We learn from them all. We lose most of them. Is there a way we can learn, but stay detached? So we don’t have to suffer the indignity and pain of loss? 

There’s a question for you readers, if I have any left. Is there a way to learn and grow in relationships, but be able to stay detached? 

Most of you will say, “of course not! That’s the point of the relationship. Learning and growing in the love AND the loss.” But a few of you have never experienced the pain of rejection such as what I’m speaking of. A few of you have. 

Rejection. Loss. Is it really worth the inevitable pain? 

I’ve been rejected by almost every major *relationship* in my life. I’ve come to the conclusion that most of the time, it’s just not worth the heartache. Best to stick with loving horses and focusing on work. That’s what life ultimately comes down to, isn’t it? The daily grind of work and home. My work/school is set. My home is set. All for the time being. Is this all there is to life? 

Hhhmmm. Just some interesting thoughts. 

Unlikely Insights Into A *Deviant* Equine Mind…

Whips, Chains and Spurs, OH MY!!

For those of you easily offended by off color stories, do not read this. Yes, it’s about deviant findings of an equine mind. 

I always knew something was up with that horse, but I never expected this.

Today was perfect. Perfect weather, perfect horses, perfect rides. I was able to put Storm and Sweetheart through their paces today, and get some much needed grooming/horsekeeping updated. 

I was privy to some.. Rather private equine thoughts this afternoon. It’s shed a new light upon at least two things: The way Storm thinks, and : Maybe sometimes horses really DO like to piss us off. Or something. 

Okay, explanations. 

After putting Storm through his paces (I forgot how much damn fun that horse is), I trimmed his feet. One (Left Fore) needed some good work - it looked like it had last been trimmed with a damn cheese grater or something. Anywho, I’m doing my business, trimming it up, and Storm decides to start fighting me. My theory was that by riding and cantering/galloping him all over Farfel Mountain, he’d be too worn out to fight me much while I tackled his feet. 

Not so..especially when said horse has an unexpected pain fetish. 

He fights. He pulls back. He tries to lay down. He tries to stand up (rear). He tries to back up. He does everything in his power to make this difficult. And as any of you who has ever worked with trimming an unruly horse knows, it HURTS. 

As Mustang Sally and Wild Woman can attest, I’m a Fike… when I get hurt, I want to hurt back (typical and ALWAYS passed down Fike Family Female trait). Having a 1200 lb horse try to lay down on you while at the same time yanking his foot from between your already sore knees (from previous attempts) doesn’t feel good. The rasp inevitably slips and slices half of my fingers almost off and leaves nice bloody tracks across my knuckles. I drop his foot and go to war. 

Now, for anyone that knows me realizes that for me, this means not a whole hell of a lot more than yelling, cursing, stomping around mad and trying to keep my patients. 

However I was dually hurt enough to make him say “Uncle” a few times, and leave a clear impression upon him of just what I thought about his little games. 

Or so I thought. 

I happened to glace under his belly, and he’s hard as a rock. Damn horse is so turned on his Johnson is almost fully out and flat against his belly. As they say, Chuck Norris isn’t hung like a horse….Horses are hung like Chuck Norris. 

I very carefully back up and look back at Storm’s face. His ears are pricked forward with the utmost interest to see what I’m going to do to him next, and he’s got the most innocent expression on his face. 

He nickers at me as if to say, "what?" 

I call him as asshole and decide that today’s trimming session is done. 

Sometimes men are pigs. Even the equines. But I have to admit..they’re funny as hell. 

Walking Away

I give up. 

I yield. 

No longer am I holding the reins on this particular horse. I’ve taken the bridle off and dismounted. And yes, believe it or not, in that order. Taking the bridle off acknowledged my freedom and once-more fiery spirit. Dismounting admitted that while the ride was fun, there are a few more things in life more important than *fun*. 

So, I’m done.

Climbing back on this horse was a major step for me. I was ready to ride again. Taking the bridle off, another huge milestone. Dismounting is yet one more step in the process. I think. 

Regardless, it’s done. No more expectations. No more hope of the perfect pirouette, the flawless canter half-pass, the tempi’s to die for, passage and piaffe. IF.. And that’s a BIG if.. It ever happens, wonderful. But I’m not holding my breath any more. 

Hope somewhat ultimately yields disappointment. If you try for it, it’s never really as good as you’d hoped/expected it would be. 

Answer? Don’t try. 

It’s not coping out. It’s simply realizing when the deck is stacked too hard in your opponents favor… you change the game. 

What am I changing it to? I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just sit it out. Rather tired of games, to be honest. 

Sit on the sidelines and watch the other cross-country riders race through the mud and muck, crash over fences, slip in the water, roll over the hurdles and ultimately get crushed.

We’ll see how long I last sitting on the fence instead of the back of that horse. Probably not long. I’ve always got to be astride something… The world gets rather tilted on it’s already precarious axis whenever I’m not working with a partner. 

So I’ll bury myself with my safe schoolmasters and rigidly spunky (lol!) lesson ponies, and hope I can hold out longer than last time. 

I'm walking away.