For everything there is a season.
Today was my day - Mom’s weekend at WSU in Pullman, Washington. And my last. Soon my “baby” boy will be graduating and following his dreams. Being a mother is the greatest gift. I feel very blessed. 
We took a hike this morning and rested on these rocks and enjoyed an incredibly beautiful day. Loving anyone or anything fully is a risk, we turn over our hearts. It’s okay, because if we don’t, we’ll never feel what it’s like to have someone supply our hearts with equal shares of love. It’s a good feeling. 

For everything there is a season.

Today was my day - Mom’s weekend at WSU in Pullman, Washington. And my last. Soon my “baby” boy will be graduating and following his dreams. Being a mother is the greatest gift. I feel very blessed. 

We took a hike this morning and rested on these rocks and enjoyed an incredibly beautiful day. Loving anyone or anything fully is a risk, we turn over our hearts. It’s okay, because if we don’t, we’ll never feel what it’s like to have someone supply our hearts with equal shares of love. It’s a good feeling. 

halvingthetimeofmylife reblogged your photo and added:

wait, do we even have turkeys in WA???
Thousands. Maybe millions. And most of them are in my yard. :) 
Don’t just do something because it’s a trendy idea and will make you a lot of money. The reason I say that is because any kind of venture involves going through difficult times. If you’re doing something you are passionate about and really believe in, then that will carry you through.
Found this clinging to my dryer lint screen today. Is God trying to tell me something? 
First day of remedial tying training and my nerves are shot but I am leaving it to Calvin so I don’t have my emotions frayed. 

Found this clinging to my dryer lint screen today. Is God trying to tell me something? 

First day of remedial tying training and my nerves are shot but I am leaving it to Calvin so I don’t have my emotions frayed. 

Today I am still trying to make sense of yesterday. It seems as I go through all of the training plans with my horse the unpredictable happens and I’m always surprised. Not only surprised, distressed. I go back through everything we’ve done and think I’ve covered every aspect but I suppose the best motto in horse training is “expect the unexpected.” 
How does a horse who has done everything right for so long suddenly refuse to do something she’s done before? And does this mean you have to be on guard, suspecting what you thought wasn’t an issue may suddenly become one? 
As I was being scolded for allowing Khyssie to get away with pulling back I wanted to argue - to come to my defense, that I’d been actively working on the problem, that she wasn’t showing signs at home, that she had trailered fine before, all the things that the trainer didn’t know because she hasn’t been with me all of the thousands of hours I’ve put in at the barn, with my horse, the dedication, the devotion, the attention to every detail. It would have fallen on deaf ears, because here was my horse, fighting the rope, having a panic attack and that said everything. 
So many times I’ve had to back up and start over. So many times I’ve thought we were going forward only to realize we were in relapse. I have to give credit to Mark Rashid for teaching me things in his books about the way a horse thinks. Naturally, I wanted to say, having five strangers trying to strong-arm a horse into a trailer she would resist out of fear and confusion, but when I suggested a more patient, gentle method, again I was scolded for “allowing” Khyssie to become the dominant in our relationship. And if the trainer had seen me all of those hours for all of those years she might have felt differently. But again, there was no explaining that. And then, the self-doubt kicks in. And my evening was spent going through a box of tissues. 
I suppose training a horse from the beginning is a lot like raising children. We are sad when our kids go astray despite our best intentions, our guidance, and our love. Because we all think for ourselves, whether animal or human. 
Now I’ve had a chance to cry it out and reevaluate and as soon as I can take a breath I’ll be back at the barn to spend the rest of my day doing things with Khyssie. I’m not sure what, yet, but I need to be with her like I need air, food, or water. 

Today I am still trying to make sense of yesterday. It seems as I go through all of the training plans with my horse the unpredictable happens and I’m always surprised. Not only surprised, distressed. I go back through everything we’ve done and think I’ve covered every aspect but I suppose the best motto in horse training is “expect the unexpected.” 

How does a horse who has done everything right for so long suddenly refuse to do something she’s done before? And does this mean you have to be on guard, suspecting what you thought wasn’t an issue may suddenly become one? 

As I was being scolded for allowing Khyssie to get away with pulling back I wanted to argue - to come to my defense, that I’d been actively working on the problem, that she wasn’t showing signs at home, that she had trailered fine before, all the things that the trainer didn’t know because she hasn’t been with me all of the thousands of hours I’ve put in at the barn, with my horse, the dedication, the devotion, the attention to every detail. It would have fallen on deaf ears, because here was my horse, fighting the rope, having a panic attack and that said everything. 

So many times I’ve had to back up and start over. So many times I’ve thought we were going forward only to realize we were in relapse. I have to give credit to Mark Rashid for teaching me things in his books about the way a horse thinks. Naturally, I wanted to say, having five strangers trying to strong-arm a horse into a trailer she would resist out of fear and confusion, but when I suggested a more patient, gentle method, again I was scolded for “allowing” Khyssie to become the dominant in our relationship. And if the trainer had seen me all of those hours for all of those years she might have felt differently. But again, there was no explaining that. And then, the self-doubt kicks in. And my evening was spent going through a box of tissues. 

I suppose training a horse from the beginning is a lot like raising children. We are sad when our kids go astray despite our best intentions, our guidance, and our love. Because we all think for ourselves, whether animal or human. 

Now I’ve had a chance to cry it out and reevaluate and as soon as I can take a breath I’ll be back at the barn to spend the rest of my day doing things with Khyssie. I’m not sure what, yet, but I need to be with her like I need air, food, or water. 

This is the story of raising, training and loving a young horse named Khyssie.

I also explore the love of writing. Because I can't be out at the barn all the time.