Snowed in

We had a winter storm and about a foot of snow came down over the course of two days. The wind was fairly vigorous and some large drifts piled up around the house.



At first, it was a lot of fun. The first morning, the dogs went racing out across the field and went gallivanting about.



Blue Dog loves the snow. He rolls in it, burrows in it and just loves to hang out in the cool air.


Cowboy donned his Carharrts and his hat and went out to shovel the driveway like a hero. My goodness.



you were out of the 30mph wind, it was really very pretty.



Driving in it was a little scary. My host has a beast of a Ford Bronco that handled it pretty well, but even so, it was an interesting drive into town for supplies.



I took a view that being indoors was preferable to being outdoors. I was rather surprised that, despite the foot of snow on each car, people were still intending to dig the cars out and go to other places, like work. This would never happen in Britain. Except probably in the north, where people are tougher and this kind of weather is more likely.



This morning was glorious. Crisp, bright and clean. I think maybe I'll stay.

You are my Sunshine, my only Sunshine...

You make me happy...



... When you're not being a snarky knot-head, that is.

Sunshine has transformed in the months that I've been back home in the UK. I left Washington in the summer, leaving behind a plump, young, bratty horse with a canter that had a different leading leg with each stride. She was a teenager in her mindset - pushy, easily bored, and occasionally resentful of work. I left her in Cowboy's big, capable, gentle hands and he set out to sculpt her into a better horse.

She looks different in one obvious way: her honey-coloured summer coat has been overgrown with her winter coat, which is long and shaggy, and lighter in colour. We don't clip her, as she's well-adapted to the cold weather and I want her to live as naturally as a horse as possible. She's also slimmed down a lot.

The biggest change is in her attitude. She used to paw and fidget when tied up, and now she stands quietly and patiently. She used to throw her head or barge through me, and now she's respectful of my space and minds her manners.

We've worked her a few times now, and took her to ranch sorting yesterday. We had some "discussions" to establish just who was in charge, and after that we've had some great rides. She really is turning into a solid horse.


She still has quite the attitude, though.

"You're a dancer? You must be really flexible..."

So, perhaps my plans are about to be wiped out. Perhaps my best intentions are taking me along the road to hell. Perhaps my flexibility is about to be tested, pushed to its limits. It's bend or break time.

I've been in Washington for just over a week now, enjoying the crisp, clear winter weather (and the less crisp, less clear rain which is more typical), and hanging out with Blue Dog.


He had a bath yesterday, against his will. He smells so good now.

Then reality hit hard this afternoon. Plans about massage school got shaken, vigorously, by the discovery of some terrible internet reviews of my chosen school. I began to question my judgement. Some hyperventilation occurred.

Cowboy hugged me and said "It'll be fine, babe."

So, I took a deep breath. I sent emails to other schools. I reminded myself that I have more time than I think. I considered the possibility of living with my parents for longer than I planned. I considered the upsides to being in the UK for longer than I had intended - more horseback archery... Hmm. Not so bad.

Then I sent Cowboy to make me a cup of tea. I'm already feeling better.

If I had a pound for every time things didn't go to plan, I'd be a rich person. Better than being rich, I'm still surviving, so obviously it isn't the end of the world if plans change. Quite the opposite.

Therefore the stiff and unbending is the disciple of death.
The gentle and yielding is the disciple of life.

Lao Tzu (c.604 - 531 B.C.)

Packed

Tomorrow, I head off to Terminal 5 at Heathrow for my flight to the US. I have packed my suitcase with determined efficiency, using a new packing technique (new to me, at least), and I have crammed in a huge amount of stuff into one suitcase and one cabin bag.


Sadly, there wasn't really enough space for this monster. She tried.

It is at about this point, when the trip looks very real and inevitable, that I get some nerves. I look at my packed bags and feel certain that I am forgetting something utterly vital and irreplaceable.

I also have to tidy up my bedroom before I leave. Something about coming home to a chaotic room is very unsavoury to me. I'll have to hoover and put everything away before going to bed tonight, and in the morning I will probably change my bed sheets so that when I get back, a month from now, everything will be ready.

A fair amount hinges on this trip. Life could be extremely different in just a few short weeks.