Magic City Con Magic

Thirteen years ago I did something life changing.  Thirteen is my lucky number.  I was born on May 13th.  Whenever my birthday falls on Friday the 13th, I have an extra special birthday party. This year's theme was "Villains" and it was one of the best parties ever.  I was Pizzazz of the Misfits from Jem and the Holograms.  Pizzazz went to the Masquerade Ball at Magic City Con.

Thirteen years ago I auditioned for the performing street cast of the Ohio Renaissance Festival.  Thirteen years ago I met some of my very best friends, and I met my husband.  Thirteen years ago I moved to Colorado for a day, then drove 23 hours back home.  Unemployed, and disheartened I found a new home at ORF.

Almost 13 years to the day, my life changed again in the very same way.  Magic City Con.

Once again, I found another home, another family, another group of people who I felt I had known my whole life, been looking for my whole life, a group of people who understand me at my core, a group of people who understand me in a way no one else understands me.

To find your second family once in life is a gift.  To find them again is a miracle.  I have spent the last 13 years with my faire family, thankful that I have found home, thankful that these people are there for me when I need them, thankful that I have found my place in this world, a place that loves me for who I am, a place where I can always be myself and feel safe and loved.  I have spent 13 years in this place, returning every summer to wallow in love and fun, to pour myself into The Blaze and embrace her zest for life, her zaniness, and her ability to spread joy and her energy.

This past weekend it happened all over again.  I traveled across the country with three other women I had never met in person, to attend a Con with other people I had never met in person, to meet the man who voiced the character that made me fall in love with a fandom that has given me one of the greatest gifts ever: an entirely new family.

I had a small family growing up.  I gravitated towards friends with large families, friends who invited me to family functions to eat and drink and be merry.  I'm still friends with those ladies today.  I still see their families from time to time, grateful to have those memories, grateful to those people who took me in and gave me the family I craved.

The Ohio Renaissance Festival was one of those friends.  For 13 years I have been embraced by a family that chose me and that I chose in return.  For 13 years I have found myself time and time again surrounded by people who love me unconditionally, people who bring me true joy and happiness, people who know what it's like to find that second family.

At Magic City Con I was blessed to find it all over again.  I marveled in my luck, telling my husband how amazed I was to feel those same feelings of love and acceptance.  Magic City Con changed my life.

I laughed.  I cried.  I hurled.  (No, thankfully, no hurling, unless you count threats.  Sorry, Mary.)

Immediately, I felt like I had always known these people, like I had been searching for them to complete me.  Many of them I had befriended what feels like years ago, discussing Dragon Age alongside of our deepest wants and desires, even though it's mostly just Cullen.  Some of them I only met last week.  Even so, I embraced them into my fold of my dearest friends, only forgetting about one of them one time.  (Sorry, Mary.)

I'm sad that I won't be able to go to DragonCon with most of them since I'll be busy at the opening weekend of ORF.  That, and I can't afford another Con this year.  But, I look forward to next year's Magic City Con.  I will be there, traveling 8 hours in a car with 3 of my closest friends, friends that I only met in person a year ago, but friends that have their own special place in my heart.

I look forward to late night chats, game tips, group fics and pics, stories about our dogs and cats, beta reading, heartbreaks and heartaches, new loves and old loves, donuts, shit coffee, death wishes, cosplays,

I look forward to the family reunion that will be Magic City Con every year.

Thank you to each and every one of you.  Thank you for being my newest family.  Thank you for coming into my life.  Thank you for keeping me up late, for cosplaying with me, for talking about Dragon Age, for introducing me to Mass Effect and Fallout 4.  Thank you for loving me, and hugging me, and crying with me.  Thank you for being you.  And thank you for loving me for who I am.

The Shortcut Street Gave Me

Today, after my busy summer of preparing for the first week of Summer Camp here on The Astral Plains, I get back to writing - my other passion.

I started writing shortly after I started riding horses.  I do not remember a time when either of them weren't at the forefront of my thoughts.  Years ago my mom gave me a giant envelope made out of posterboard full of my writings from grade school.  I've already written several books.  They were about my family, and cats, and horses.  I wrote about what I loved.

In college I was an English major for four years.  I wanted to be a writer.  Eventually, I realized that you didn't need an English degree to be a writer.  I also realized that after the death of a friend, I didn't have the strength to grieve for him and stay in school.  I was a wreck.  Ryan Street, or Streetie Weetie as I called him, passed away just after New Year's Day.  I believe it was January 3, 2003 but I've never been good with dates.  My friends, his friends, and I spent 3 long, grueling days in the waiting room of the hospital after he had a seizure.  He never woke up.  I was in that waiting room with 2 ex-boyfriends.  It was tense, and uncomfortable for so many reasons.

Sitting here, I shed a few tears for Street.  He was one of the best friends you could ever hope for.  I only knew him a few years.  But, they were some of the very best years of my life.  He had a way of bringing everyone together.  During those years I was friends with people who I never would have been friends with otherwise, most of them I am no longer friends with.  They weren't the kind of people who stuck around in my life.  But, when Street was alive, everyone wanted to be around him all the time.

I have a photo album of those days.  We had so much fun, that some of those pictures are hidden behind other pictures; they're indecent, and they were developed at the grocery store.  I still have a pink leopard spotted bra hidden away in a drawer or plastic tub or suitcase somewhere just because I have a pictures of me wearing that bra with Street.  (Also, there's one of Brad Buchanan in it.  If you still talk to "Iceman" tell him.  He's not on FB for me to embarrass him publicly.)  We were fresh out of high school, had over 21 friends buying alcohol, and locking ourselves up in someone's cousin's house for a weekend.  Thanks for the memories cuz.

My senior year of high school I lost my Uncle Johnny and Mom-Mom, my grandmother, in the space of less than a month.  Pop-Pop, my grandfather, died a couple of years later.  When Street died I was still reeling from their deaths too.

It has just dawned on me, as I write this, that Street's death drove me to follow my heart and build my future.  Wow.  That made me cry.

Uncle Johnny's prayer card reads: "I shall lead you through the loneliness, the solitude you will not understand, but it is my shortcut to your soul."  I held that so close to my heart over the years.  That saying, by Thomas Merton, has gotten me through all the tough times since.  To me, it's a better way of saying "Everything happens for a reason."  All those times I felt at my lowest, lost, alone, afraid, I brought that prayer card to mind.  For my birthday in '05 I tattooed it on my arm.  I know I still have the prayer card somewhere, probably in a diary.

Of all the suffering I have gone through in life, dealing with death has always been hardest for me.  In an odd way I welcome it, in the way that I no longer fear it.  I know that through the death of each of my loved ones, I have learned a priceless life lesson.  Some just take longer to realize than others.  I'm blessed to find my way to the other side, eventually.

Street's death pushed me to find my future.  The year he died I went soul searching.  I made the decision to move to Colorado to work on a dude ranch.  I drove home the next day.  Unemployed, and painfully grieving, I auditioned for the Renaissance Festival that summer.  That year I met two of my soul mates, my best friend, Megan, and my husband, Wayland.

I have accomplished so many of my lifelong dreams since Street's death.  Next up, publishing a book.

I've worked on writing, starting and stopping, three different novels.  I'm taking my newest project and running with it.  Soon, maybe you'll be buying it off of Amazon and getting lost in my world. For now, it's time for me to go get lost there.

Spring Has Sprung on The Astral Plains

We did it.  We finally named the farm.  The Astral Plains.  It was a name that came to us, actually I think it was Wayland's idea, early on.  Also considered were Mystic Fields, Soul Dreams, and Spice of Life.  We wanted something that would embrace our love of the Sci-Fi and Fantasy genres, but it was more than that. We wanted something to tell people who we are.

We're dreamers and thinkers.  We're creators.  We're open to the possibilities of life - the endless possibilities of life, our planet, our universe, and beyond.

Here on The Astral Plains we feed imagination while making dreams reality.  Here on The Astral Plains you can find peace and inspiration.  You can find love and acceptance.  You can find yourself or you can look for your self.

Yes, I will be teaching horseback riding lessons on The Astral Plains.  But, it is so much more than that.  I'm offering a chance for people to live life the way they want to live their lives.  I'm offering hope for the future, a new beginning, a way to relax and enjoy a day on the farm.

My hope is that people will come here to embrace life.

Yesterday we had a chance to embrace an evening like no other evening.  Our dear friends, Skogen and Lulu, came over for dinner.  As usual we enjoyed preparing a meal together and watching the antics of the critters.  A spring thunderstorm rolled in and it rained for over an hour.  Thunder made the dogs cower in fear, but the rain brought green grass and spring buds.

As the rain began to subside we noticed the driveway had flooded and the horse field had given birth to a river and a lake.  Strider, who is usually a cautious dog, waded knee deep into the new lake.  He chased the spiral of water flowing into the drainage pipe and watched it cascade out the other side in a waterfall over the rocks and cinder blocks.  He spooked  at something, making a big splash, spooking the horses as well.

Brave Deacon had to come over and check out what was going on and he began splashing in the lake on his side of the field.  Water loving Smokey and Prince quickly joined in.  And even Land Lubber Sonny visited the lake.  Bandolero was having none of it, though grazed close by as not to be left out of the herd.

Soon, it was a big horsey wading pool.  Everyone was splashing away.  Luckily, Wayland noticed the fun and went for his camera early so we have several shots to commemorate the affair.  Smokey went down to roll not once, but twice.  Perhaps he wasn't wet enough after that big rain shower.  Or perhaps he just really loves water.  Prince, who usually gets both front feet into the water trough to splash was much happier with this new lake.  He splashed and splashed, and then put his nose into the water to blow bubbles and get a bite of hay off the bottom.

It was better than any movie or TV show I've ever seen.  I could watch my horses play all day long.  This was truly a special treat and a moment I will cherish as long as I live.  I'm thrilled that I got to share it with not only my husband, but also the Studebakers because that's what The Astral Plains are all about - sharing love with each other.

Not an hour later the lake was gone.  It had all drained out through the drainage pipe, which deserved some time off after doing such a good job.  This morning even the river is gone.  The grass is greener, and bushes that weren't blooming yesterday are blooming today.  Spring has sprung on The Astral Plains.

Now, we will sit back and enjoy the ride as soon as we finish all the work that needs to be done.

An Artist in Dreams

I lit some candles last night and became an artist in dreams.

I was cleaning and found the stash of candles from my Tree's house warming party. (Yep, I belong to a Tree.)  They had carved words into the candles to bless my new home.  Words such as: prosperity, wealth, health, positivity, laughter, and fun.  I went to bed tired, earlier than usual, and woke up feeling refreshed.

I had a nice, new dream.  Not that my old dreams aren't nice, but I tend to dream about the same thing or same theme quite often.  Last night was new.  I was driving a new to me, yet quite old red pickup truck.  It had pictures all over the dashboard from the former owner of him, his family and his horses.  I really liked this truck.  It was smaller than my behemoth of a truck and had character.  Perhaps I'll keep an eye out for it.  I was driving this truck up a cobblestone street when I realized I needed to drive through this very small barn to get home.  As I pulled into the barn I realized it was full of some type of black exotic chicken.  Small, fuzzy grey chicks were running around everywhere and I nearly hit one.  I stopped and jumped out to check on it when the farmer came running up.  He was a middle aged Latino man, who was very concerned for his chick, yet very welcoming to me.  He knew that his barn was a street that people had to drive through.  After checking on his chick, which was unscathed, I told him I would help him stop the use of his barn as a street and get the city council to put in a new street instead.  He was very appreciative.  He told me I could finish driving through.  I decided it would be best to back up and find a way around.

Back out on the cobblestone street I saw a beautiful white Victorian house with a large sign out front.  I thought it was a "For Sale" sign.  But, it was actually a sign with a large pencil drawing of my father on it.  The sign read: "Anthony Maruffi Properties."  My Mom and Aunt Cathy were on the front porch.  I walked up with tears in my eyes.

"Mom, I thought you decided to sell this place!"  I said to her.

"No, we decided that you should have it as your new shop,"  she told me.

"Shop for what?" I asked.

"Whatever you want," she said bringing me inside.

Trinity Ruggles was at the door.

That's the last thing I remember.  I don't know what this place was, or where, but I do know that last night in my dream I became an artist.  On that sign, clear as day was a wonderful pencil line drawing of my father.  How in the world can my brain create a perfect drawing in my dreams, but there's no way I could ever recreate that while awake?  (By the way, my father is alive and well.  I think this sounds like he's deceased.  But, he isn't.)

Perhaps the dream is telling me that I'm not done dreaming yet.  I know that most of my biggest dreams have come true.  And I'm incredibly thankful for that every single day.  But, perhaps I forget I have more out there.  I want to be a better witch and a better healer.  I want to open up a tack store one day.  And perhaps, I want a little, old, red truck.

I woke up suddenly and completely this morning.  I didn't take Benadryl last night, which helps.  That always makes me wake up slowly and groggily, and late.  I'm trying to get off the 'dryl.  It's not good for me.  I don't want to have to take it because I'm so snotty that I can't breathe.  I'm going to get back into Reiki and chakra work.  I really enjoyed it when I was doing it.  I felt empowered.  And it's something I strongly believe in.  If I have the power to help myself heal in my very own hands why am I not using it?  Laziness.  That's the only answer.

This year, I'm going to be less lazy.  I can't say that I'm not going to be lazy because I know that's a lie.  I like being lazy to an extent.  But, as with most things I "Go big or go home."  So, I do it all the way.  And being lazy all the way just gets me a gut, a sugar belly, a pooch, a FUPA!  Agh!  Not a FUPA!!!

It's hard when it's the middle of winter and it's cold outside.  I start my day by bundling up, feeding 5 horses and 2 donkeys and cleaning the barn.  I work up a good sweat doing this.  It makes me feel like that's my workout for the day and I can go inside and sit around.  But, it should be just the beginning to my day.  I don't usually eat breakfast before I feed horses.  But, today I did.  Today, I woke up, made tea and toast, blogged, and fed my dogs first.  Today I'm going to do something I can be proud of.  Perhaps today I'll suck it up and ride.  Perhaps today I'll read a Reiki book.  Perhaps today I won't be lazy.  Perhaps today I'll be an artist while awake.

"Dog Tired"

Yesterday, I took my dogs to work with me.  I love spending time with my dogs.  I'm ecstatic that I can take them to work with me.  It doesn't always work out.  When I have lots of lessons and lots of students I don't want to ignore the dogs and have them wander off.  But, yesterday I only had two lessons instead of three.  So, we got to camp in the early afternoon, picked up Lucy the American Bulldog at Colleen's (my boss, who was working) so she could go with us, and went for a long walk.

Walking through the woods with dogs is like taking very fast children to the zoo when it's crowded.  One blink and they're gone.  They always come back on their own though, unlike children.  It makes me a bit nervous, but they have so much fun.  The exercise and the enrichment is good for them.  It's also feels good to be able to trust my dogs to be off leash.  There's freedom there.

Back at the barn students arrived and I was pulling muddy horses out of a muddy pasture.  After hosing off the horses, I hosed off the dogs, quickly dried them, and stuffed them into the truck.  They were asleep by the time I glanced at the truck to check on them.  There were much fewer people around for my last lesson so I went to free the dogs from their comfy cage.

The windows were all fogged up and they were happily looking at me and wagging their tails.  I reached for the door handle and pulled.  The door didn't open!  I went around to the driver's door.  Nothing!  They were locked in!  And of course my keys were sitting on the console.

I called Wayland to leave him a message saying he would need to come down with his keys to let me in my truck after he was finished at the gym.  Then, I remembered that I bought a defective truck!  The driver side rear door doesn't lock and unlock by power, only by hand!  I called Wayland back, left him another message, and ran to the truck.  The handle opened the door and the dogs were free!

I unlocked the rest of the doors and ushered the dogs into the barn to keep them mostly clean and out of the mud.  They enjoyed running around the arena and eating horse poop unaware of my near panic.  Of course, being locked in a truck on a 40 degree night isn't much of a danger to two pooches. . .just to the interior of my truck.

Regardless of my mistake, or perhaps because of it I had a great day with my dogs.  Do you know what 'dog tired' looks like?  I do.  Two dogs run around trees, another dog, horses, people, water, birds, horse poop, strange cats, and mud for seven hours.  They get home, pee again, poop again, eat dinner and collapse on the couch.  They didn't go outside again before going to bed, which they always do.  They didn't wake me up in the morning, which they usually do.  And they are currently sleeping on the couch instead of staring at me with a toy at my feet.

I hope that early lesson slot on Monday doesn't fill up next week.  I want more dog tired dogs.

FHOTD - Blog writer submission draft 3

Obama signed a bill and the horse nation is in an uproar.  (At least I think this all happened because Obama signed a bill.  I hate politics so I’m not really sure how it all works.  And for me to spend time researching the exact reason that horse slaughter is going to begin again in this country would take up too much time.  I’d also forget what I wanted to say.)  What should we do?  Should we support the reopening of the horse slaughter houses in our country or rally to keep them closed?

Personally, I won’t send my horses to a slaughter house for their death.  I pray they go quietly and peacefully in the night.  Yes, I’ll be devastated when it happens.  I have yet to say goodbye to one of my equine friends.  I’m lucky.  It will be the hardest thing I will ever have to do.  But, I will always have horses.  When my current horses have passed onto the next life I will get more.  I’ll probably get more before then.  I can’t imagine life without horses.  And I can’t imagine putting my horses through any unnecessary pain or suffering. 

I’ve read up on humane euthanasia that goes awry even when performed by a vet.  That doesn’t sound pleasant.  But, at least if it happens it’s not on purpose.  I’ll have every intent to end the suffering of my beloved horse quickly and painlessly.  If I knew how to use a gun, had good aim, and was adept at killing animals perhaps I would do it myself. 

If this country offered slaughter houses for horses with strictly enforced regulations perhaps that would work.  A clean, sanitary place with compassionate workers just like your vet would be appealing to many people.  No harsh chemicals and no terror, just like a cozy doctor’s office (unless you’re terrified of doctors of course.) 

From what I understand, because I’ve never been inside of a slaughter house, and have no desire to go into one, the slaughter houses in this country are unpleasant to say the least.  Horses are packed in shoulder to shoulder after being forced into substandard trailers and shipped too far of a distance without water or breathing room.  Then, they’re unloaded into a cramped paddock or cement room with other terrified horses.  They slip on the floors, slick with the blood of the others who have gone before them, as they’re loaded into a chute.  The captive bolt gun misses several times when the horse ducks out of the way and can hit in other places on the body.  The horses don’t die right away.  They suffer the multiple shots.  They hear the screams of other frightened horses.  They bleed to death slowly.  They suffer broken bones, bruises, cuts, and mental anguish.

Then, they are shipped to another country to be consumed by humans. 

I have a couple of questions:

1.  Why don’t the citizens of horse eating countries eat their own horses?

2.  Why doesn’t the government that allows for the opening and closing of horse slaughter houses regulate the operations of these places?

3.  If the legislators responsible for the slaughter bill were on that show where the CEOs of companies have to start at the low end of the totem pole could they be forced to work in our nation’s slaughter houses?

4.  Why is it so hard for Americans to walk in the shoes of other people?

5.  Why are there heartless bastards in this world?

Of course I can’t answer any of those questions.  But, they plague me when I think of the argument about horse slaughter.

For example, I have a cat.  He pees on my walls, my furniture, my drapes, and my clothes hampers.  I thought about putting him to sleep.  There, problem solved.  Cat pees on stuff; kill cat.  Wait.  How am I being responsible for the life of the creature I chose to bring into my life if the solution to my problem is death.  I did some research.  It turns out he has some pretty severe OCD.  He licks paper, tape, plastic bags, and envelope glue (ok, maybe the glue has killed some brain cells too.)  I took him to the vet, put him on some anti-anxiety medication and voila!  No more pee.  Of course, there is user error.  If he doesn’t get the medication every day he might pee on something.  I can only blame myself now.  Also, for clarification, the marking by urination is an OCD behavior, thus it is resolved with the medication.

The point is, in case you haven’t gathered it, is that I took responsibility for my actions.  I got a cat (ok, it’s my husband’s cat technically.  But, when I got a husband I got the cat too.)  So, I helped make the quality of life better for the cat. And I succeeded.  The medication is $5 and lasts two months.  That helps a lot.  If the medication was $60 a week I might have had to make a different decision, starting with a less costly medication.  But, euthanasia was the last option.

I was raised to take responsibility for my actions.  I don’t lie.  I don’t like to sugar coat the truth either, but I will if necessary for kids and clients.  The bottom line is that I believe the way to make this world a better place is to start with yourself.  I make me happy.  I try my best to not hurt others in the process. But, once I realized that my happiness is in my own hands I started to take responsibility for my actions.  And I find happiness in being honest, even if it hurts, and by taking care of those I love.

So, horse slaughter.  I think there are more than two sides to this issue.  Side one:  you’re against it.  Side two:  you’re for it.  Side three:  you think both side 1 and side 2 need reformed.  Personally, I’m side four.  I won’t send my horse to a slaughter house.  But, if you want to send your horse to a slaughter house because you can’t afford to feed it or euthanize it (and no one else wants it) then you should be able to do that.  I am for a humane, quick, painless death for horses.  I do not think that the horse slaughter industry in this country is for a humane, quick, painless death for horses.

Perhaps that is because some people who kill animals are not people who care a whole heck of a lot about life.  In grade school, I lived across the street from a family who had a father.  This father used to catch squirrels in traps and drown them in a bucket of water while the boys watched.  That guy might work in a slaughter house now.  What was his childhood like to make him think it was ok to drown tiny, helpless animals while his young children watched?

What if an equine vet or humane society employee had to preside over all horse slaughter houses instead of the squirrel drowner?

Also, I don’t believe that the horse overpopulation problem is directly related to the slaughter house issue.  Horse overpopulation, like any overpopulation is due to irresponsible and unregulated breeding.  That is an issue unto itself.  There are not too many “unwanted” horses because there are too many horses being bred.  There are too many horses being bred because people don’t educate themselves, they fail to see life in a long term sense, and because they fail to take an active role in responsibility for their own lives.

If you bring a horse into your life I believe that your life is now responsible for that horse.  You don’t euthanize your child because you can’t afford to feed it.  You don’t put it up for adoption when you decide you don’t want it anymore.  You bred, produced a child and now you have to take care of it for the rest of its life.  Why should it be any different with horses or other animals?  Your livelihood, your reason for wanting to own a horse, the essence of who you are is tied to the quality of life of that horse.  That living creature now relies on you to take care of it.  You need to feed it, give it medical care, give it a shelter, and love it to keep it living the highest quality of life available.  When you can not meet the needs of the other living beings in your life it is time to reevaluate yourself.  Do you need to get a new job, get a second job, sell something of value, take more time out of your busy schedule to spend time with your loved ones, feed your horses, sell your horses, get a divorce, go back to school, what?  What do you need to do to make your life work?

Don’t blame it on the economy either.  It’s not the economy’s fault that you can’t keep your life together.  It’s your fault.  It’s your life.  Try harder.  Get help.  Get new friends.  Make new friends.  Find a support group.  Whatever it takes to make your life better, do it.  Or else you have no one to blame but yourself.  And don’t let your horse starve out in the field.  Shoot it yourself if you have to.  Or have your neighbor the squirrel drowner do it for you.  I’m tired of excuses. That’s why I don’t make them.  Ok, I do make them.  I can think of an excuse in seconds.  It must come from my knack for creative writing.  I can pull an excuse, a good one, out of my butt so fast that you’ll believe it.  I’m good at lying.  I just don’t do it.  The truth is more fun for me.

So stop being a loser and get your life together.  Be a winner.  And winners do what they want, right Ricky Bobby?

I have very few rules in my life.  I don’t like too much structure, or too little organization for that matter.  But, I found what works for me.

1.  I make sure I’m happy.  I do what’s right for me. (You know those mugs, t-shirts, aprons that say “If Mama ain’t happy ain’t nobody happy.”  It’s true.)

2.  I take the feelings of others into consideration when I make decisions that will affect them.

3.  I don’t hurt animals or people that can’t fend for themselves.

4.  I make changes when change is necessary.  (This is the rule I have trouble with.  I don’t always like it; it’s rarely easy.  And it makes me cry.)

You may want to ask if I eat meat and if I care how those animals are treated.  Yes, I eat meat.  I love meat.  I wish I could buy all of my meat from the man down the street who kills those animals quickly and humanely.  But, I don’t.  That would be expensive and I’d probably have to drive all over Ohio.  But, there are people out there who do not eat meat.  And they lobby for the humane treatment of those animals that I eat.

I don’t eat horse.  But, I’m out there lobbying for the humane treatment of those horses that are ending up on someone else’s plate.  That’s the cycle as I see it.  Am I a hypocrite?  My horses don’t think so. 

What does your horse/cat/dog/rabbit/goldfish/mother/father/husband/sister/employer think about you?

In no way do I live my life for other people, which I think has become quite apparent.  (I do live it for my horses, though.)  However, the way your loved ones view you should tell the world what kind of person you are.  When I was applying for a job as a horseback riding lesson instructor at a local camp I had no doubts in my mind that my clients, friends, trainer, or the man I pay to board my horses would give me anything besides glowing reviews. 

I stand up for what I believe in.  Please, take a stand.  If every person on this earth would stand up for one thing they feel strongly about this world would be a better place.  And isn’t that what it’s all about?

Poof! Here's your man.

I'm working on my novel and started editing and rereading.  I got to a point where I got kinda stuck.  It was on a description of main male character #1.  I feel like I shouldn't have gotten stuck, but I did.  I went over the the Computer Room, which no longer houses a computer so it should be called the Green Room or the Library and we can play Clue in it.  I came back with a book called Wild Mind by Natalie Goldberg.  It's a book full of writing prompts and I got it in a college creative writing class.  I don't remember much about the class. But, I still have the books from it, one of the few classes I purposefully kept books from.  I like the book so much I think it's called Writing Down the Bones.  But, that is another book by the same author.  And this book happens to mention that book on the cover.  I suppose I should get that book also.  I'm sure to like it. 

So, I went to the Library (which also houses our costumes in the closet.  Perhaps it should be called the costume room.)  to get this book and sat down, picked out a writing exercise and promptly forgot the point of the exercise to instead write about the book and the room.  That is what is writing is about.  That is what writing exercises are for - to get the brain moving and the fingers tapping so that words flow and ideas form and men materialize in front of you.

Now, if only I could get men to materialize in front of me.  I really would make a fortune that way.  Poof!  Here's your man.  Poof!  Here's your man.  Poof!  Here's your man!  What would that business be called?

I am a Rennie.

Today was a great day in many, many ways.  I feel blessed to a be a firm believer that everything happens for a reason.  And my husband and my friends are some of the very best things to have ever come into my life.  I know many people wonder, "What is the appeal is of the Renaissance Festival?"  Well, to simplify things. . .it's home.

Alongside of the handful of friends I still have from high school and my childhood, my friends from the Renaissance Festival are my nearest and dearest of friends.  Since June of 2003 I have wanted nothing more than to spend as much time as I can having fun with them.  Some have come and gone.  Some have been missed and some have not.  But, they have each left a lasting impression in my life.  I found a place in this world where people are understanding, accepting, and for the most part open minded.  These people struggle to find a place in this world, just like everyone else.  They find it at the Renaissance Festival, and I am one of them.  I am a Rennie.  It's a place where we can be ourselves, where we can live without the confines of modern society, and where many can live without the worry of judgment.

I can not imagine what my life would be like if I would not have gone to auditions that summer day.  Everything that is closest to my heart today is because of that day.  I love each and every one of you. . .even if I don't like you much.  We are all a part of this world and we must strive to make it the best it can be each and every day.

The approaching season is going to be an exciting new season.  The winds of change are blowing and I anxiously await it's arrival.  I am ready.  I am ready for change.  I am ready for clanging steel, tight laced bodices, 100 degree pirate ships, and sweltering chess matches.  Bring it on.  The Blaze wants to play.  I hope they haven't run out of Woodchuck again!

Peace with every breath

I feel like the last thing I want to do right now is to relive the pain from yesterday.  But, to share it is to let it go. 

The morning started with the first post-op visit to my surgeon/ENT.  I told him I'd been feeling so sick and in a lot of pain and he said that was unexpected.  He also said that he wishes I would have told him earlier.  (I don't know how I was supposed to know that, which he also said, but he knows now.)  Then, he went in to dig out some crud from my sinuses, and I had a vasovagal response where I almost passed out.  (This has happened before, I think when they hit a certain nerve up there.)  So, he gave me some different antibiotics to take in case I was getting an infection.

Then, we head to Walgreen's to fill my prescription and then over the Guard Tower to get some D&D minis.  I found three that I liked.  As we were checking out of the Guard Tower my stomach started to hurt a little bit.  Then, I got in the car and it started to hurt more.  By the time we pulled out of the parking lot I was having the worst pain of my life.  My stomach was cramping so bad that I couldn't talk, or think, or see.  It eased up after a few minutes, and some frantic driving from Wayland who was trying to find a hospital.  But, then the pain came back on strong.  By the time we got to the hospital it was excruciating again.  Wayland ran in and got some help and came out followed by a man with a wheelchair.  As I was wheeled in the pain started to lessen again and I was able to give my name and date of birth.  I had one more wave of pain as I got my IV started.  The whole thing lasted about 45 minutes or so.  I hope I never have anything like that ever again.

Recently, my dear friend, Joe was treating me with some Reiki and taught me about Shanti.  "Peace with every breath," he said.  Somewhere in the midst of the pain I could hear him in my head.  I could feel his hands on my stomach holding me.  I could hear him whisper "shanti" into my ear.  I held my hands on my stomach and tried to take deep, relaxing breaths.  I chanted "shanti" over and over again.  As the pain subsided for the last time in the hospital, I begged the goddess Epona to give me strength and take the pain away.  She did.

So maybe this entry is about my spirituality, not my pain.  Wouldn't that be nice.  I've never been much of the religious type.  I was raised Catholic, went to an all girls Catholic high school even.  I loved my Catholic education and am thankful for it.  I'm lucky to have extremely open minded parents.  They never pushed religion on me, not being very religious themselves.  We always believed in God and celebrated Easter and Christmas like good Christians.  But, none of us were ever really strong minded Christians or Catholics.

 Many of my journeys have started at the Renaissance Festival and my spiritual journey is no different.  Several years ago on a wonderful vacay to New Orleans I picked up a book called Italian Witchcraft.  I read that book several times, enjoying a glimpse into the life of my ancient ancestors.  I just didn't know what to do with it.  Recently, I've discovered that I am a Pagan through and through.  I love worshiping nature and the earth.  It makes sense to me.  I'm free, free to worship any goddess or god that has even been worshiped by anyone, anywhere, anytime.  Life makes sense and has meaning. 

I wear my pentacle as a proud sign of my beliefs and practices, even though few know what it means.

Today, I'm going to cast a circle and sit awhile.  I'm going to start work on cleansing my chakras and perform some Reiki to make myself feel better.  I think that yesterday was a reminder.  I need to take care of myself and I have the power to do it.

Hopefully, when I go see my doctors next week I will get some good news and show some improving signs of health.  That's what I'm planning on anyhow.

Dear February in Ohio,

Dear February in Ohio,

I hate you.  I hate your below freezing temperatures.  I hate that it's too cold to go ride.  I've ridden in the teens before, and my fingers almost fell off.  I'm not going to even attempt single digits (pun intended.)  I hate that all you have is snow and cold and this sun that tempts me to go outside because sunny days should mean warm days.  I miss warm days.  I'm ready for spring, and summer, and fall.  I'm ready for rain, mud, sunbathing, swimming, faire rehearsals, riding in tank tops, and sweating in all the glory that is the 80's.

There is a big part of me that wants to embrace 6 degrees Fahrenheit.  I want to bundle up and go play with the dogs and ride my horses.  And maybe I should just suck it up. Complaining hasn't gotten us anywhere. . .ever.  But, I'm just letting you know that I'm threatening to leave.  I don't want to.  But, I'm sick and tired of your frigid winters, full of snow and ice.  Arizona is looking pretty darn good right about now.  You better shape up before this Ohioan decides to find a clime better suited to being outdoors every day of the year.  I won't even miss snow at Christmas, I betcha.

I used to stand up for you too!  And this is how you treat me?!  I always said, "I like winter.  I enjoy getting all bundled up and riding."  And I meant it too!  But, you have gone too far!  It's been below freezing for 3 months now.  Maybe you've forgotten how the year works.  There are 12 months in a year.  There are 4 seasons.  That means each season is 3 months long.  You are over.  It is time for spring.  Tomorrow, I expect all of this snow to melt, and it should be 40 degrees outside.  Then, you can work up to the 50's for next week.  I fully expect 60 degrees by April and 70 by May.  If you could just cooperate you'd make a whole lot of people happy.  And when people are happy they are more willing to work.  Thus, more things will get accomplished and life will move on as it should.

I'll be sure to thank you properly while I'm out brushing the mud off of Smokey for an hour before I can even think about riding him.

Your former love,
Tina

I Enjoy Wonder

I put some much effort into school these last few years, that I lost track of how important many things are to me.  All I've been able to think about this past week is getting back to writing my book.  It's the second book I've started and left unfinished.  And I'm itching to pick it back up again.  So many ideas run through my head.  This winter I hope to finish it.  I'm combining many of my favorite things into one story - characters I've never seen together before.  I wonder what I will call it.  I wonder if it will become a series.  I wonder if you'll be able to buy it in stores.  I enjoy wonder.

Luke is named after the Jedi

Today I will take my last test of the quarter.  Next week are my two final exams.  I hope they are my last final exams for awhile.  I'm ready to focus on the therapy program.  Laurie and I already have a great program lined up.  Now, I just need to get all the paper work together, get the website up, and work on getting brochures and business cards printed.  After Christmas I plan on starting to pitch our program to hospitals and schools in the greater Cincinnati area.  It is a good program.  It will work for the kids that need it and attend it - even if they have to go through the program more than once.  I wish I had something like it when I was younger.  Thankfully, I had Laurie as a role model and I turned out great.

For those of you who don't know Laurie Stober, she was my religion teacher my freshmen year of high school.  She has one arm and a son named Luke.  Back in high school I asked her if she named him after Luke Skywalker.  She said no, he was named after Luke from the bible.  I still think anyone named Luke is named after the Jedi.  I digress, as usual.  Laurie made high school religion fun.  We filmed a soap opera about Bathsheba.  All I really remember about that is that we made tampon commercials to make the soap opera more realistic, and I think, Bathsheba took a bath on the roof of a building somewhere.  She also lead the Outdoors Club, Laurie, not Bathsheba.  We took a camping trip where we played football and told ghost stories in a scary, dark, old barn.  One of her friends, disguised as some crazy guy came through the side of the barn with an axe, just like in the story.  It was a trip I'll never forget, just like Laurie.

I used to sit on her desk after school and eat her candy and bug her.  But, she never seemed to be bothered by it.  She left Seton High School after my sophomore year and I missed her dearly.  I'd think of her from time to time over the next 13 years or so.  I always remembered her fondly and sent out many a "thank you" to the universe to deliver to her for being such a great role model.  I told countless people about my one armed religion teacher.  Recounting those days made me realize that having her in my life helped me get through a lot of tough times - times when I was full of doubt, self pity, and uncertainty.  But, if she could get through the loss of an arm and still be so upbeat, then I could conquer anything.

As fate would have it, I ran into her in a restaurant one evening.  I heard someone call my name and looked around.  There she was, sitting with a few other woman by the bar.  I almost cried when I saw her.  The woman who had such an impact on my life recognized me and remembered me after all these years.  I sat and talked with her, introduced her to my husband and we exchanged phone numbers.  We got in touch a few days later and realized we both shared a common love for horses.  She had a small therapy program where she counseled trouble teenagers through sharing her horses with them.  And she needed a horse trainer to help her out.  Lo and behold this horse trainer was more than willing to help out.

I started at Full Circle Therapy in the summer of 2010, 15 years after first meeting Laurie Stober.  My hope is that Full Circle Therapy can touch the lives of young people all over Ohio and help them find their inner beauty and their way to enjoy life and to enjoy being who they are.  I know that my hopes and dreams are in motion because of her.

Too Much Tolkien

I am a good horse trainer.  I understand horses and I think they know it.  I'm a good teacher.  I think it's because I wish everyone could spend time with horses and enjoy it as much as I do.  If everyone could be happy with a horse this world would be a better place.  Sometimes I think about how much work I've put into being a student.  I want to put that much work into being a successful horse trainer.  I know that nursing school wasn't the "easy road" but, that's how it feels for me.  Because the hard road is working to make a living at what I love most, working with horses.  And the easy road is doing what society says is a good idea, a safe bet, or a good safety net.  Although I ride with a helmet I do not want to take the safe road; I'll take the uphill, rocky climb any day.

I think it's time for me to get back on the hard road.  "Two roads diverged in a yellow wood" and I think I took the wrong road.  It is not too late for me to go back and take the one less travelled by for it calls to me for my feet to trodden its leaves black.  I know its my chosen path because my heart pounds and my hands get cold at the thought of taking the hard road, the road I've desired to take my entire life, the road of a woman struggling to swim against the stream.  Yet I will smile and enjoy the water splashing in my face.  For my life is my own.

I can do this for the rest of my life and be proud, happy, and prosperous.

And, if one day I find myself again going down the wrong road, I'll find another.  Life has many roads and I will enjoy them one day at a time.  I am lucky to have a supportive husband throughout all of this.  More than anything else he wants to see me happy, that's why "we" have four horses.  But, he understands that my strong will can accomplish anything.  So far in life I've accomplished every goal I've set my mind on.  And I will not stop here.  When I find myself at the fork in the road again, I'll just ask  him what he thinks, grab his hand and enjoy the journey.  At least we'll be together.

I will no longer feel like butter scraped over too much bread.  I will put my ear to the ground and follow the  Uruk-hai to rescue Merri and Pippen. . . ok, I think I'm getting carried away here.  Too much Tolkien.

The Way to Ideal Gratification

I love quiet, early mornings in my kitchen.  It makes me long for the day when I'm getting up early to feed hungry horses.  It's the reason I decided to go to nursing school, so we could afford a farm of our own.  I want to say that I'm lucky to have married a man who decided to intertwine his future abode with my horse farm, but it's not luck.  It's the best decision I ever made in a man.  Goddess knows I made plenty of bad decisions when it came to men.  I dated a guy once when I was younger, and I asked him if he'd be willing to follow me around the world.  He said "no."  I knew he wasn't the one, although I certainly thought he might have been. But, I was young and naive.  At least he taught me something about myself and about men.  I knew I wanted to see the world and I knew I wasn't going to live in Cincinnati forever.  He wanted to live in Newport, Kentucky for the rest of his life.  I told him that maybe one day, when we're old and gray, we'll be sitting next to each other in a diner in downtown Newport and we'll recognize each other.  And if we're lonely enough, maybe we'll finally make it work.  Of course, now we're friends on facebook, so I imagine we'll always know what each other looks like, where we work and live, and where we're going to be on any given day.  Which I'm ok with; I can avoid him.  Don't get me wrong, I wish him the best in life.  We had many fun times together.  But, I am soooo happy that I didn't marry him.  I guess that's why I had to go through all those men, to find out which ones I didn't want to marry.

Barn/House

I found this picture today.  It's their barn and their house rolled into one!  Wayland would never be far away if we had something like this.  When I've got a stack of hay getting ready to fall on me I could just yell for him and he'd hear me!  It's something to think about.  Maybe this guy (who's an equine estate realtor down in Kentucky) would let me visit his place.

Anyway, the whole point of my morning, and most mornings lately, is that I want my own farm with my own horses in my backyard, and my own tack in my barn. That's why I decided to be a nurse.  I wanted to be able to afford my own place.  I've never had a place to call my own.  This dream means so much to me.  I've accomplished all of my other dreams so far in life.  I have horses (although I only ever wanted one), I have my dogs, my cats, and my wonderfully supportive husband.  I'm only missing one thing.  I guess I am in a bit of a hurry to get it.  Although, I know it's coming to me.  All good things take time.  When you wait 30 years for something, you do expect perfection though.  And I've always been one who enjoys instant gratification, hence all the previous men.  But, at least I have the evidence to show that instant gratification is very rarely the way to ideal gratification.

I guess it's time to do some homework now.  I've only got two weeks of class left in my quarter, and then finals.  God and Goddess, help me to get through the remainder of this quarter.  Then, I've only got one more quarter of classes, and one more quarter of clinicals until I graduate.  You should start preparing now for my graduation party in June.  It's going to be BIG!

It's Wednesday

Strider is laying on top of Tempie, chewing on "snurffle ball" and making whiney "I'm gonna eat your face" noises.  I have a cup of coffee.  I can hear Wayland in the bathroom getting out of the shower.  It's a morning full of life, my life.  I like my life.  I like where it has taken me, and all the journeys I encountered along the way.  Ten years ago I could have never predicted I'd be here, in this chair, in this house, with these dogs, married to this man.  I love my life.

Ten years ago I kept a journal.  I wrote in it every day.  I told it about who broke my heart, who I kissed, what I bought at the mall, and in which city I last saw *NSYNC.  Those were good days.  So, I'll pick it up again.  Only this time I'll give blogging a shot.  Let's see how good my targeting is.

Another faire season has just ended and another cast party is behind us.  I must say I'm thankful for social networking sites that keep all of us connected in the off season.  I remember my first few years of faire.  Megan and I shopped all winter, just the two of us.  Now, I can't get rid of these people!  All year long there are parties, and dinners, and gatherings!  It truly is a blessing to be surrounded by rennies all year long.  I look forward to this weekend when I get to go pick apples and pumpkins with my brothers and sisters of my coven.  Another day spent with rennies, followed by more delicious food at the Gubbe residence.  Is it Saturday yet?  No.

It's Wednesday.  Another day of class, homework, and studying.  All I have to do is make it through the rest of this quarter.  Then, I get to enjoy another month off, hopefully a month full of riding my horses.  I get to kick it off with a friend's wedding and a weekend get-a-way with Wayland.  December is going to be a good month.  I will be sad to see October go, as always.  But, I welcome the impending winter, which in turn will skip spring entirely and go straight to summer.  Which once again brings us back to faire.