Missing Information

Fresh from sleep, before daily thoughts and duties influence my mood, is when I enjoy writing. When I’m connected with my true feelings and creativity seems to flow.

When a crazy nightmare gets me out of bed earlier than usual, I can shift that energy and spin the heavy thoughts into interesting post topics. Those mornings can be very productive, but health wise I’m glad they’re not a regular occurrence.

For me, writing is therapeutic. Putting thoughts down on paper often brings clarity to issues.

Blogs are great platforms to share lessons, hints about life or interests, or inspiring stories.

I wish everything I posted was upbeat and made people smile, but that wouldn’t honor the “life as it comes” part of this blog. I do sensor my subjects though. Tucked deep in my iPad are drafts that will likely never get published. The stories I regard as too sad or the subject is too sensitive to share.

Does January have power over us like people suggest? Is it more depressing than other months? I’m not sure about all that, but it seems to make me contemplate life. Here’s where my heart and thoughts recently visited.

Retirement isn’t for the weak. No, that’s not quite right, aging isn’t for the weak. I don’t mean in the physical sense. I’m sure this statement and my following explanation is thought about by many, realized by most, but is seldom spoken out loud.

My fingers have already paused periodically over the keyboard, debating if I should continue, but here goes.

Have you ever watched or seen a retirement condo advertisement. The lifestyle they flaunt looks grand. They boast about gatherings and activities. Sometimes they have me comparing them to child summer camps. Of course, there’s no large bunk-bed quarters, shared washroom facilities, and usually no chaperones. (Not that I’ve been to summer camp, but I’ve seen them on TV.)

The lake development where Mister and I live isn’t a retirement or even a restricted adult park. There are plenty of young people and families who own places here. We love it, and we love the friends we have made. The majority of the time, life is grand.

The thing is many full time residents are, I hate using the word but, older. So, back to what you don’t see mentioned in commercials or pamphlets about places with an aging population.

Using a well-known cliché reality can sure, “take the wind out of your sails.” I’m not naïve, I know it’s our destiny and that bad things can also happen at any age. But, seeing an ambulance with lights flashing visit the park always sets a bad feeling. No one told me about the high exposure to sicknesses, diagnosed diseases and worse that comes with aging and sometimes where we live.

Emotional strength is needed and tested far too often as our circle of friends decreases. Smiling and staying positivity is sometimes the most difficult thing to do in a day.

So there you have it, the not so rosy part of aging. What do I hope this post accomplishes? I hope it reminds us to appreciate every waking day we and our loved one’s have.

On a lighter note something else I was never warned about that also happens regularly in retirement is, how hard it can be to figure out what day of the week it is. This makes us seem like we’re losing our marbles, but honestly it just doesn’t hold as much importance. Smiley face.

Country Life

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.

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.

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?