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