A Week Pet Sitting

dobby 1

Why Are You On The iPad?

Puppy’s are made of short naps, hours of fetch and tug a-war, and the rest of the time is pet me or at least pay attention to me.

Mister and I spent last week pet sitting at our son’s house in the City, while he and his girlfriend went on vacation.

Under our care was Dobby, a nine month Doberman Pincer pup, Chewbacca and Little two felines, and a dwarf hamster.

When looking after Ruben or now Dobby our fur Grand-puppies for longer than a night, Mister and I find it easier if we’re at their homes where they have fenced yards.

In preparation I packed writing assignments, reading, two knitting projects, and had planned to catch up downloading pictures and organizing them during the sort of vacation away from our own chores.

What was I thinking?

I always expect to get more done in a week than is practical and I hadn’t considered the coming distractions.

The first full day on our own I was out of bed before Mister which is normal because that’s when I like to write.

Who would have guessed that Dobby would bark whenever I’d stop paying attention to him and look at my iPad? With Mister still asleep, I tried to keep one hand petting him while the other maneuvered the stylist on the iPad on my lap. That might have worked if not for the unexpected boops causing all kinds of chaos on screen. The puppy won my attention that morning.

By midweek, I had more of a routine. Emails got checked when Mister could play with Dobby, and there was no more barking at my iPad if I tried short sporadic spurts of morning writing.

The kid’s 3 story home also distracted me from time to time. We only used the main floor, an upstairs spare bedroom and two of the four bathrooms, but with carpet and house pets there was vacuuming, dusting, or wiping nose and paw prints, to keep up with.

A quirt of mine is I enjoy house cleaning, I’m not obsessed about it but it can sidetrack me. Give me a sink of warm soapy water and I can spend hours spot washing doors, frames, walls or non-daily areas.

Our kids have never complained that having us house sit often comes with a cleaning bonus. It’s not meant to offend, it’s just what I do when I’m bored or unsettled.

Adjusting to a different TV provider proved frustrating for Mister. Remotes, menus and channels were not what he was familiar with, so he usually gave up searching for shows. Instead, he would find a channel with reruns and we would just watch what ever came on.

There was, On-Demand, Netflix, and the kids left written instructions how to use these but we couldn’t get interested in either. It surprised us to learn how much we watch and depend on our PVR and taped favourites when at home.

Being in the city for a week came with benefits. We got in a couple visits with our nearby daughter, although unfortunately we weren’t able to catch up with the oldest one. I enjoyed a shopping day with my BFF which ended with her husband and Mister meeting us for a enjoyable supper out.

We had a shortened but nice visit with the kid’s when they got home. They had other things to do though, so we got out of their hair and returned to our cottage.

My voice will probably crack from lack of use not saying, good puppy, bad puppy, Dobby don’t chase the cats, no, leave it, go get your toy.

I should have weighed myself prior to staying there. I’m certain I lost weight, not enough but still a positive, due to trips up the stairs and having Dobby judge me if I ate snacks. Because of his watchful eye I didn’t consume a single potato chip during the week, a record for me.

Another misconception was I thought I’d have tons of opportunity and it would take little effort to get great pet pictures for this post. By the time I would grab a device and get a camera App open they would either turn away from me, move into bad lighting, have disappeared, or Dobby would boop the camera resulting in a blurred picture. If I tried to sneak into a different room for a cat’s photo session, Dobby would find us in a flash and send the cats fleeing.

This is one of the few pictures I managed to get of Chewy, the black cat, and Little, the tabby.

cats

Oh a warning, cats are traders.

We swear the cat dish always had food in it which is how they are use to being feed but they made sure to lick it clean sometime between the last nightly check and the morning when the kids got home, making it look like we neglected them. This after letting them share our bed every night, a treat they don’t get to do with the kids.

When either the son or daughter ask us to look after their animals, if we can, we are glad to do the favour, but we’ll admit we enjoy stays at their places better when they’re there and we can visit them.

What do I appreciate the most about being home?

No puppy has tried to steal my morning cookies, and I can enjoy a full cup of hot coffee without the interruptions of throwing a slobbery rubber toy.

I miss the cute faces and their happiness to see us though, but not enough to make us think of having a full time pet of our own again. Been there, done that.

One more thing, I don’t remember Mister and I wearing so many cloths while away so who does all this dirty laundry we brought home belong to.

I wrote this post with a smile and a fondness of animals.

Do you ever Pet sit?

Do you prefer doing it at your own place or go to the animals home?

Is This Lighthouse View Worth It?

72 lighthouse NB

Roadside viewpoints, even with fantastic scenery, sometimes aren’t worth the anxiety getting to them causes.

You can’t really tell from the picture how high above sea level it is.

This is a promised post about a lighthouse visit forever etched in my mind.

In our average sized unit for Alberta, a 4×4 crew-cab truck and 30ft. fifth wheel RV, we set out on a cross Canada dream trip, celebrating Mister’s retirement.

The further east we traveled signs that a smaller unit would have been more practical started to occur. Like outside, Quebec City, when we pulled into a roadside rest area for lunch and the road back onto the highway made a tight half circle that was narrow and curbed on both sides with jagged rocks. Mister knew we were too long to make the bend, but it was the only exit. He drove slowly, and we hoped for the best, which was only one trailer tire’s sidewall being ripped open and the wheel hub damaged.

Thankfully, that was the only costly incident we encountered,

BUT

his driving skills were tested multiple times, and white knuckling on my part occasionally took place.

We started asking size related questions when heading to attractions. Then, if needed we would leave the RV at a nearby campground, or a couple times Mister got permission to park the 5th wheel for a few hours at tourist information centres.

I wish we had gotten a second opinion for one nerve-rattling adventure I call, “The road to hell.” Slightly inappropriately named, because in fact the road zigzagged up a mountain, and the destination was not hellish.

Before leaving our campground near Hopewell Rocks, NB. we asked a local fellow about getting to Cape Enrage Lighthouse. If we should pull our 5th there or not? If there would be parking? He replied, “It should be fine, tour buses go up there.”

That was good enough for Mister. The next morning we headed down highway 114 which became rough enough to make us wish for air ride seats.

We took the lighthouse exit, and soon it opened into a flat stretch. The ocean glittered on one side of the road, a marsh was on the other, but a massive, tree covered mountain loomed ahead.

There was a roadside gravel area there big enough to park, probably used by fisherman to get to the ocean, but a sign indicated several Kilometers yet to the lighthouse.

A squiggly switchback warning sign and a high incline percentage one also came into view, and that’s when my anxiety began.

I told mister, “It’s fine, we don’t have to continue.”

I suggested, “Since there’s room here, let’s just turn around.”

I reasoned, “There will be other lighthouses to see along our route.”

I even tried straight out stating, “Honest, I don’t want to go up there.”

I rambled and muttered more, but those were my main arguments.

Mister simply replied, “We’ve come this far, we’re not turning back. Quit worrying! If a bus can make it, we can.”

But, worry is what I do best.

I pleaded some more, but our speed remained steady, the discussion was over.

A cliché comes to mind, “Come hell or high water,” he was taking me to see that lighthouse. (Now, isn’t he sweet, or maybe he needed revenge for some previous nagging I’d done? Smiley face)

Don’t get me wrong, Mister’s driving skills impress me. He can also maneuver a trailer pretty much anywhere, but I really never wanted to find out if controlling a rig sliding backwards on a narrow mountain road was in his repertoire.

When we slowed for the first corner, I braced my feet on the floor and one arm on the console between us. My other hand clutched the dashboard, “Oh sh…!” handle. Why, I’m not sure, we weren’t going fast or off-roading. Another smile.

With only slight exaggeration, I swear on the tight switchbacks I could have stuck my arm out the window and been able to touch the side of the 5th wheel.

Oh, have I mentioned the road was hard topped but was littered with small pebbles.

When we crept up a particular steep and sharp hairpin turn, the truck began to spit those loose pebbles. My worst fear came to life, the tires lost traction, and we were sliding backwards.

Mister, all calm and collected steered and engaged the truck’s 4 wheel drive. We started to inch forward again.

I on the other hand, broke into a sweat, muttered curses and silently prayed.

Finally we got to the top where we had to stop on the road and help guide another unit around the corner so they could head back down the hill.

The actual parking lot had a designated spot for tour buses but the public part was not big enough for larger RV’s.

Mister found a grassy plateau before the lot and wedged our rig in so we could get out to explore and take pictures of the lighthouse. The views were spectacular, but I’m not sure they were worth my stress.

70 start of road to hell Cape Enrage NB

Road Before Cape Enrage Lighthouse

 

79 road down

Coming Down Again

If I’d known this story would become a blog post, I would’ve tried taking better or at least more pictures, and maybe washed the bugs off the windshield. Who am I kidding, between hanging on and my shaking hands I’m impressed I got these few. Pictures don’t do justice to heights, inclines, etc. anyway.

The trip down wasn’t much better for me because I couldn’t stop picturing those darn loose pebbles causing us to careen off the edge.

How busses negotiate the trip, I’ll never know, maybe traffic is stopped for them. For sure, I would never want to meet and have to pass one or any other big vehicle for that matter.

If planning to visit this sight, the scenery is gorgeous once up there but be aware of the road getting there, especially, if you are pulling an RV.

Do certain road conditions cause you anxiety?

Do you like road-trips?

Flowerbeds and Spring

IMG_0259

The Goal

The snow has melted and uncovered pitiful flowerbeds. Filled with last summers dead stalks, dead annuals and fallen leaves which act as cold weather insulation for roots and bulbs. I don’t prune perennial’s in the fall, because my mother believed not doing that keeps frost from going down the steams and damaging roots. She taught me most of what I know so, of course, I honor and garden by her rules.

Here’s another tip of hers that I’m certain has no real merit, yet it makes me smile and I still follow it, “Don’t water your plants at night”. She would add, “Do you like to go to bed with wet feet?”

Last Tuesday the beautiful spring day enticed my cleanup to begin.

A lack of this type of activity during the winter decreases my stamina for being bent over picking up leaves and pruning plants so after 3 hrs my back screamed, enough for one day.

It took three heaping wheelbarrows to get 4 out of 8 flowerbeds cleaned out. One more bed than planed because why walk a half full wheelbarrow to the compost bin.

IMG_2058

2 Back Corner Beds Before Clean-up

IMG_2068

After Clean-up

I miss the days when I could complete all my yard-work in one shot. Maintenance free landscaping sounds more appealing each year. I can picture graveled beds with large placed boulders, unique driftwood and waving sea grasses, but I know I’d miss the colorful blossoms come summer.

Wednesday morning, I struggled out of bed. My back hadn’t forgiven me and using a very technical term, my bend-over-butt and leg muscles also expressed great displeasure with yesterday’s activities.

With coffee in hand I sat in my recliner regretting, again like every year, my gung-ho approach for that first-day of yard-work.

Why can’t I learn to space it out, do one flowerbed to start or at least in the weeks ahead prepare my body by stretching and maybe exercising those dormant muscles? As I blow my nose, probably from all the dust and pollen stuff I disturbed the day before, I know the answers.

  • I enjoy being active but devoting time to actually exercising has never been something I can stick with for more than a few consecutive days.
  • Weeding is a chore I dread doing. I’m not one who says, “Oh, I love to putts in flowerbeds.” For me, it can’t end fast enough. Sometimes, I wonder what I’m missing that makes me not find the so-called pleasure in gardening.

Mister’s pride shows in how he takes care of our lawns. He may grumble once in a while about how quick it grows, but that’s because he keeps fertilizing it. They are still too wet for his work to start.

The flowerbeds are mine to tend. I wouldn’t consider myself having a green thumb but plants grow and blossom. I do the necessary things, I fertilize, water, weed and prune. The problem is I’d rather do just about anything else.

If you’re a returning reader you’ve heard me mention before,

I’m a winter girl.

I have indoor plants that bloom all year and I don’t have to kill my back, sweat, get sun burned, or swat mosquitos while tending them.

Okay, I’ve whined enough.

Attitude changes everything. It’s time for me to practice what I preach. Find the positives.

I’m grateful I woke and could get out of bed, many don’t or can’t.

I’m grateful for sunny days even though the snow is gone.

I’m grateful to have a yard and yes maybe even the demanding flowerbeds.

Most of all, I’m grateful for every extra day with Mister, family and friends.

Once the season gets into full swing, every morning like other years, I’ll be checking flowerbeds anxiously watching things grow.

Do you have a least favorite outside chore?

Do you enjoy gardening and have a green-thumb?

What is Retirement?

clock

Mister and I sometimes get asked, what do you do to fill the days, do we get bored?

No, we don’t get bored often. Sure, some days are quieter than others, but than there’s days like today that seem short.

Today is flying by because, even though it was a weeknight, we were up having fun while playing cards with good friends T & E until 2:30 this morning.

It’s great having the opportunity to do this, knowing we can sleep in which I did until 9:30, and knowing it won’t interfere with projects needing doing. Unlike when working and you only have those precious 2 days, a week, off.

What doesn’t get done today can get done another day.

Hence the clock picture capturing the time it was when I finished my morning coffee, doing emails, and finally went to get dressed.

I skipped lunch because a breakfast cinnamon bun worked for both. There was barely time to vacuum and stroll the yard checking flowerbeds before my 3:00 afternoon coffee break. Smiley face.

Life can be great! Savor the downtime, tomorrow might be busier.

Just thought I’d share this short unscheduled post as I reflect on how enjoyable retirement freedom is.

Retirement is different for everybody but this is a glimpse of ours.

Here is a startling, amazing, somewhat scary, call it what you may, tidbit.

The four of us card players vary in age and without revealing the exact numbers if adding our years on this earth together they approximately total 295.

Are you retired? If not are you counting the days, months or years until it happens?

Art and a Glass House

IMG_2003

I love wall art with meaning, family or travel photos, or pictures or things you or someone you know make. Like this grouping of portraits I sketched of horses that Mister and I have owned and showed since together.

A hanging tribute that with a glance or simple passing, we can recall these treasured animals.

The poster size piece hangs on a wall at the country home where our daughter and husband live. Those fingers gripping the edge belong to her as we literally took an art walk through the house trying to find a spot to photograph it with the least glare.

A small, yet unfortunate issue for a picture lover like me, regarding the cottage where Mister and I live, is very limited wall space.

DSC02873

County regulations when we built stipulated, not more than 12 inches of wall between windows in the main living area. For us that affected one whole side and the back, and is why I sometimes refer to it as, our glass house. (Now, you may also understand why I grumble when it comes to cleaning windows and blinds.) Blinds, I could rant for a whole post about my dislike for cleaning them and the dilemma of what other, if any, window covering option we might have. But we’ll leave that triad for another time.

The few big enough drywall areas are precious space, and they showcase art with meaning.

There are two current exceptions. One picture hangs in the bathroom, a boat and shoreline scene. The other, large one is of, chairs on a dock facing a sunset. It hung on the living room wall at first but is now in the master bedroom. Both pieces fit the decor but were store-bought as inexpensive space fillers when we first used the cottage as a weekend retreat.

It’s crazy, we’ve lived here full-time for eight years now and with how important wall space is to me those insignificant two still remain, simply because I can’t decide which pictures to replace them with. I tend to over-think and over-stress about this, but…I shrug my shoulders and smile.

After writing about this though, I will move changing them up in priority on my to-do-list.

We have many special photos, so I enjoy multi frames or frames with multiple spots, probably because of my indecisiveness when choosing favorite pictures. Smiley face.

pic cluster

This is another, “to-do-project,” update this cluster which hangs on the only sizable main living space wall.

I Just had a Light Bulb Moment.

I blog because I love to write, share stories, and enjoy the interaction of comments. Learning how to entertain, enlighten, inspire or inform a reader with my posts is a learning process, and I may not always succeed,

but

writing this post inspired one person, me.

I didn’t have a big, life changing ah-hah moment, but I’m pleased none the less.

Don’t laugh at my victory, but I finally realized why choosing a picture for our bedroom wall has taken years. It’s not the spot for one photo to be enlarged and framed.

The room needs a colorful piece, something beachy and crafty, or a collection of sorts there instead. I’ll update on this when the change takes place.

So my brain storming and searching will begin. Sounds like a great reason to spend time scrolling Pinterest. Not that I normally need an excuse.

Does what hangs on your walls have meaning?

Do you like artwork if so what type?

How Many is Too Many Lighthouses?

642 peggy's cove

Lighthouses, whether anchored on a rocky shoreline or perched high on a hillside ledge, tall or short ones, white, red, or striped, simple or with buildings attached, they fascinate me.

Built to endure, they stand through blistering heat and rugged storms. Their importance for men and women on the water is undeniable, and the lives they have saved makes them man-made heroes.

When we travel a coastal road, I’ll search our route in advance for these majestic landmarks. Mister, kindly feeds my obsession whenever possible, and we’ll stop and even take a slight detour so I can photograph a lighthouse. Getting close is sometimes an adventure though, and I promise to write a future post about one particular hair-raising experience.

Ornaments and accents in our family home had a definite country flare, but we left bronze horse statues and Western themed pieces behind when Mister retired and we moved.

How could I decorate a lake cottage, especially one with a turret that reminds people of a lighthouse, with such things? Yes, I know I could have.

I chose to go nautical, and in part, that gave the new phase in our life a fresh feel.

I’ve always loved sea shells, water creatures, sea horses and starfish. Unique pieces of driftwood or crafts made from driftwood. Boat anchors, steering wheels or anything related to boating. So now, ornaments, decor pieces, throw pillow covers, accent upholstery, it’s mainly nautical.

At last count and not including the few pieces outside, 41 lighthouses or things with lighthouses on them, have found a place inside our home. This is counting sets like, salt and pepper, cream and sugar bowls, or the four dining chairs only as one unit.

Does that sound like too many? Perhaps it’s somewhat of a fetish.

Not that it’s all you see when you step inside, but there is at least one lighthouse visible from any seat in the kitchen or living room, which is just one big room.

To me, I’ve kept their numbers and placement to a tasteful scattering, not an overpowering tackiness. Isn’t that what all people say about their collections, LOL.

kit 1See, just a few lighthouses tucked here and there with a side of nautical.

Other than furniture, most everything in our place is a travel souvenir or gift. Each item has an attached memory, and maybe one day I’ll write their little stories so when they are left behind someone, if interested, will now their history.

My decorating skills are minimal at best, and if I didn’t contain myself to a theme, my wide variety of likes would create a mismatched mess. Some people can make a collective style work, but I’m drawn to individual pieces and that can cloud the big picture.

Do you have a decorating theme or preferred style in your home, or an interest for certain collectables?

 

Interesting Lighthouse facts?

Peggy’s Cove Lighthouse pictured above is one of the most-photographed structures in Atlantic Canada and one of the most recognizable lighthouses in the world.

The first lighthouse at Peggy’s Cove was built in 1868. It was wooden with a beacon on the roof. In 1914 the current structure was erected, an eight sided reinforced concrete one that stands almost 49 feet (15 meters) high.

The older wooden lighthouse became the keepers dwelling until 1954 when Hurricane Edna damaged it and it was removed.

It was a treat for me to see Peggy’s Cove lighthouse in person.

Have you visited Peggy’s Cove, Nova Scotia?

Hello Bud, and Spring Travel

bud

Do you know how to tell when an Albertan believes it’s really spring?

When they’re going for a drive and they don’t throw big snow boots, winter jackets, gloves and a hat in the back seat. Smiley Face.

That’s Mister and I, anyway. We even keep snow-pants and a blanket in the van during the winter months.

Unlike most people, I will miss winter. Not the extremely cold days, but the freshness of a winter walk and the relaxation that comes with the season. It’s a great time for catching up on visiting or inside crafts and hobbies.

For those waiting for summer, it’s no longer wishful thinking that spring is approaching, the signs are popping up everywhere. Flowers and tree buds are sprouting, the geese have returned from down south, and the Jackrabbits are changing back from white to brown in color.

Neither geese nor rabbits would show themselves on Sunday so I could take their picture for this post.

spring flower

Even surrounded with snow and ice there is signs of life in the flowerbeds.

Mother nature can’t make up her mind though, and last week’s weather was like rolling dice. Something different showed up each time you looked outside.

Last Wednesday and Thursday were prime examples.

By noon Wednesday the temperature warmed enough that a light shirt and vest was efficient not just inside but when outside.

Born and raised in Alberta and setting out on a road-trip though, my winter coat and snow boots joined an overnight bag in the van. A duffle which contained three layer options of clothing for Thursday’s planned shopping day with my girlfriend.

For two hours, I drove North on dry roads for a night at the daughter’s. The glorious sunshine heated the van interior enough I had to put the air conditioner on from time to time.

Keeping up with weather forecasts is a must at this time of the year, so we checked it after supper. They predicted an overnight cooling with possible precipitation. No big deal, we’re use to that.

I joined the daughter when she set out to do evening chores. She fed and blanketed, “Nugget” her horse. With access to shelters and with him more content outside, he doesn’t spend nights in the barn. The temperature wasn’t expected to drop enough to warrant a quilted blanket but since he had already shed most of his winter hair she put a rain-sheet on him.

Early Thursday morning we woke to about one and a half inches of fresh, wet snow. It continued lightly falling while we drank our coffee, but the weatherman said it should clear by the afternoon so us girls decided to still go shopping. We picked up my girlfriend and by 9:30 am we were heading North for the forty five minute drive to the city.

The snow didn’t stop, instead the flakes got bigger and came down heavier as the day went on. With near zero temperatures the roads and parking lots got slushy and by the time we headed back South, between vehicle spray and falling snow, visibility on the highway was crappy.

Halfway to the girlfriend’s house the weather cleared, and it didn’t look like the area got the storm the city was getting.

I phoned Mister to see what the weather was like at the lake so I could decide if driving home or staying at the daughters one more night. He said, “Sunny and 5 above Celsius, all day.” I drove home that evening. The roads were dry the whole way.

So that was my Thursday, and its two seasons of weather in one day.

I should have taken pictures of the different conditions, but I was too busy enjoying the girls day out.

It’s not uncommon for us to get temperature changes, of ten or more degrees, during a single day. Now, that’s hard to dress for and why I pack more than I need. LOL

Do you get drastic weather shifts where you live?

Lego, and The Kid In Me

IMG_2016

No children were involved in the hands-on part of this post, LOL. That’s right just me and an afternoon of building Lego.

Interesting Facts, you may not know.

-A Danish carpenter, Ole Kirk Kristiansen founded Lego in 1932. He started by making toys and wooden blocks.

-In 1958 he patented and began manufacturing what we know as Lego today, and every block made since then can lock together.

-Lego is the largest manufacturer of wheels, out producing Bridgestone and Goodyear.

-If Lego figurines were real people, they would be the largest population in the world.

As a youngster, I loved playing with Lego. I often built a truck and livestock trailer for my farm-set animals. Oh wow, this might date me. Does anyone remember farm-sets? Maybe they’re still made, I haven’t been in a toy store in a long time. I had the tin barn kind with most species of plastic farm animals, choking hazard size or smaller. The figurines were poised and on platforms so they would stand. There was snap together fences, a tractor and field equipment. It even had rows of garden crops, tools, shovels, and tons of other tiny pieces.

Anyway, back to my main topic, Lego. What I had growing-up was about six sizes, in single or double row blocks, some platforms, and flat pieces. Most were red or white.

Using just these simple blocks meant projects other than buildings would resemble what you were trying for but they were rarely pretty.

In those days, Lego sets weren’t as specific, they simply came in different size sets.

You used your imagination to design things because building manuals didn’t come in sets until 1964.

I remember the excitement when black, yellow and blue colored pieces appeared and specialty pieces started showing up. Like curved corners, clear pieces, different doors and windows, and the little people.

Even back then Lego was a costly toy, so I had little of it, but my cousin often got the newer sets. During visits to his house, him and I would create and build for hours.

By the time, mine and Mister’s, kids were old enough and Lego returned into my life it had changed a lot. The son and daughter both enjoyed building things, and they started with what I had saved of mine and their collection grew from there.

They only got a few big fancy sets, special ones like, a large pirate boat, a castle, and a stable set, to name some favorites.

The kids and I, enjoyed great times together building for hours. It wasn’t Misters favorite thing to take part in because we usually sat on the floor surrounding a pile of pieces or laid on our stomachs propped on our elbows.

Why am I writing about Lego you may wonder?

Because, knowing how much I enjoy building Lego, the Son and his Girlfriend got me a unique set for Christmas.

I was waiting for a chance to build it with him during a visit, but that hasn’t worked out. So yesterday being a cold blustery day, I selfishly built one of the set’s options and enjoyed every minute.

lego LH

Have you ever built Lego?

P.S. – Dropped or forgotten pieces of Lego found by stepping barefoot on them is still as painful as it used to be.

Country Life

kids-hay

What’s that noise?

Faint rustling followed by squeaks and gurgles of a baby fussing came from the feed and tack stall next to the booth where Mister and I sat at the horse event. Exchanging an knowing glance with my husband I went to investigate.

Pictured above is what I found. Our daughter with this sheepish look sprinkling hay on her little brother who was supposed to be asleep.

Our family often jokes about the saying, “Were you born in a barn.” Although not born in one, our kids spent a good portion of their childhoods in either a barn, an arena, or outside and nearby while we did our chores.

Four legs, manes, tails, and everything horse best describes our daughter’s likes.

For a few years, a spring horse took center-stage in our bay window. She spent endless hours in that saddle, her stare focused outside, and her eyes glazed with little girl daydreams.

The toys that entertained her while indoors were all horse related. My Little Pony’s, Lego stable sets, and the jeep, horse trailer and horses for her Barbie’s. Even the multi story, upright, Barbie house Mister made her, of course, had a floor level barn included.

She was happiest outside, even if just watching the horses eat or roam the pastures. As an adult, she still spends her spare time outside with her horse or in the barn.

She recently posted this picture and description on Instagram. (@candie214)

Pretty sure this is why I like watching people ride, I spent hours on those tires.

img_1986

If you look close, you’ll see the small child saddle I’m riding in so I could take the edge off “Dr. Pepper” before she rode.

In her I see the younger me. Doing barn or farm chores was, and is, rarely considered work and when given a choice they trump household chores.

To us horses aren’t a hobby, they are a lifestyle. Location has changed this for me since I live at a lake resort now, but it’s still her way of life.

This is “Nugget” Her current, young, Quarter Horse Gelding she’s training.

ck-riding

We were blessed as parents to have children, especially teenagers, whose passions meant they were happy at home.

Our son’s interests changed from horses over time and if you haven’t already, check out my post, “Our Version of a Norman Rockwell” for a glimpse into what makes the male’s of our family tick.

Did you have a childhood passion?

Do you still enjoy it?