So Thoroughly Nice

Despite the date showing that today is Monday, we’re going to pretend it is Thursday so I can meet my weekly Theme Thursday post.

This week’s theme challenge is: Sand

Ah sand.

Beautiful beaches. Swimming in the surf. Sand in your shorts.

Really, sand is sort of a metaphor for life. So useful. So inviting. So “ow, damn!” all in one substance.

I wanted to do something different with this theme so I went to my favorite free stock photo site, had to go several pages down, and found the image that really grabbed my attention.

Now we’re talking sand!

If you are a horse person, then you know *exactly* what that horse it up too. Just back from a nice long ride and back at the barn, the saddle has come off, the saddle blanked peeled back. The moment that trusty steed is turned loose he will drop awkwardly to the ground.

All four hooves will then swing up in the air and a much happier horse starts wriggling around, scratching a sweaty back in the sand with SUCH a look of joy. Some horses will even groan a bit while they scratch.

Ya can’t help but laugh.

It’s a moment of joy so pure, it makes me wanna flop down in the sand and roll around just to see what all those sighs of contentment are about.

Photo by Sue Nagyova and provided royalty free from stock.xchng

Life Imitating Art

So things are going to have to change up a bit here on the ol’ blog.

Ya see…I started a new job today.

After ten successful months of consulting work and being my own boss, I agreed to be owned by a corporation once again.

It’s a good job and a good company and this morning, nervous and anxious I burst out the gate, excited and ready to run.

This after I spent my last five days having a blast in New Mexico with my best friend in the whole world and two other good pals. Since my girlfriends are all teachers, this was a last hurrah for them, too.

A chance for us to act like kids before it became time to act like grownups.

Among other things, we hit the town of Ruidoso, NM and painted it red.

For my non-New Mexico readers, Ruidoso is known for, in this order:

1) Horse racing
2) Skiing
3) A preponderance of Texans

This weekend, the horses were fast, skiing non-existent and the place was crawling with Texans. An almost $900,000 purse for race number nine, the Rainbow Futurity, brought them out in droves.

I didn’t manage to take home any of that fast flowing cash, by the by.

After the races, some dancing got done. There might have been some “adult beverages.” Lots of cussing and discussing was also accomplished.

Yesterday, worn down with that good kind of tired, I came home to get ready to go to work. I had to pull the work clothes, dust off the cobwebs and act like a professional.

As time marches on, my idyllic weekend in New Mexico will be like a distant memory.

How long before I’m running as fast as I can, falling ever more behind, quirted into submission?

This being a grownup thing is a big load of horse hockey.

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Life Imitating Art and associated images by Karen Fayeth are licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported License.

These boots are made for…

Been going through some stuff in storage, pulling out the keepers, tossing the others.

But then, there are some items where it’s hard to choose, stay or go.

I just unearthed a box full of my old boots. This is tough.

I don’t wear most of these anymore. But I just can’t bear to part with these dear friends either.

I just look at the worn leather…and I remember.

Like, my first pair of ropers.

I’d worn pointy style boots, but when I got to NMSU, all the folks there were wearing ropers. So of course, I needed some too.

I was about a sophomore in college, I think, when I went down to the Tony Lama outlet in El Paso to procure these babies. They are gray goat skin, soft and forgiving. I wore these a lot, as evidenced by the worn down heel.

These were my main everyday boots. I wore them dancing on the boards at Corbett Center. I wore them for my horseback riding classes. Covered in manure, I’d wear them up the hill to attend the business college.

The toes are scuffed all to hell. The pretty gray color job didn’t hold up much under the dainty hooves of the insane mare I was assigned for a while in my riding class. She liked to step on feet. A lot.

Thankfully my gray boots were made for working.

When my grays were starting to show some wear, I saved up and decided to get a new pair of boots. I wanted to try Justins this time and I wanted lace ups. I also wanted pretty. My gray boots were utility. I wanted flirty.

So I bought these very impractical pearl white beauties.

Man, I loved these boots. I started wearing these to dances and leaving the beat up gray boots at home. I almost never wore the pearls riding, except once, for the horse show I participated in (and won).

I got these pretties on the cheap, as you can see, they are marked “imperfect.”

I’ll admit the heel wasn’t balanced quite right on the right boot, but I didn’t care. They were roper perfection to me. These boots were made for flirting with cute cowboys.

Ya wanna know the best part about the fact that I still have these boots?

Look at the circle engraved into the leather sole. You know how you get a groove like that on your boot? By dancing, that’s how.

The leather is cracked and the boots are worn out, but they are still utterly gorgeous to me.

And then, after college, and on to work. That’s when I went back to Justin and bought these guys:

I wore these to work a lot. The soft rubber and not-leather sole was easier on my feet, especially the time spent on the shipping and receiving docks. That concrete is hard on the legs, but these babies are comfy and they look good.

And the leather…oh, the leather just ages so beautifully.

These boots were made for my first real job out of college. They helped me make the transition.

I might actually pull these back out and find another chance to wear them. They are delicious.

And finally…we have these.

This is what I’m wearing now, my beautiful Ariat Fat Babies. These boots went to see the Merle Haggard show recently. These boots get a lot of compliments every time I wear them.

Right now, these boots are packed tightly in my suitcase that, by the time you read this, will be tucked in the cargo hold of an eastbound airplane.

If I’m lucky, I might get these boots out on a dance floor in Southern New Mexico on Saturday night.

Cuz these pretty pink rhinestone boots? These are made for dancing.

I’m a little ticked.

Believe me, I’m no card carrying PETA-type person, but I do have a deep love of animals. And I believe if you are going to take one on as a pet, you have a responsibility to that animal, in good times and in bad.

And the cost of keeping and caring for an animal for their lifespan MUST be factored into your decision. Also your contingency if you are unable to care for your pet any longer.

I see *too* many people using the disposable pet approach.

And that gets me steamed.

So why am I ranting on this topic today?

Because of this article in both the Las Cruces Sun News and the ABQjournal today:

Horses May Be Relinquished as People Economize

Seems as the economy gets tough, people are looking to give their horses to Dona Ana County animal control, who only has capacity to handle a few.

Owning a horse is a lot of hard work. They eat a lot (and feed prices get driven by ever upward spiraling corn prices). They need to be ridden and exercised. They need a lot of vet services. And farrier work too.

While I know that when times are rough, expenses and “nice to haves” have to be cut back.

But abandoning your animal? Not cool.

From the Las Cruces Sun News article:

“Childress said he’s suggested horse owners try to sell their animal or find another home before contacting his office. But that can also prove difficult because of the number of horses already on the market.”


The price of petrol affects more than just the fuel in your gas tank.

And the dominos fall.

Max Evans

If you don’t know who Max Evans (the writer, not the “Roswell” character) is, you should.

If you are a New Mexican and you don’t know who Max Evans is…for *shame*.

Max is truly one of ours and in behind the deeply furrowed face of that crazy man beats the heart of New Mexico.

If you don’t know about him, get thee to the nearest receptacle of books, be it library or retailer and take a look. He’s a writer of cowboy stories. He’s an artist. He’s a funnyman and a raconteur extraordinaire. No one puts a spin on a story like ol’ Max.

And so I was happy to read this interview with him in the Albuquerque Tribune.

He’s got a new book out, “For The Love of A Horse” that I will probably burst into flames moving so fast to acquire. (Amazon reports only two in stock so this may be harder to come by than I first imagined….)

I, too, have been influenced by the horses I’ve known in my life. I remember them better than I do most former boyfriends. And I remember them more fondly too.

I’m fired up to read his stories. I expect alternating pangs of homesickness and heartbroke over the steeds that have come and gone. Should be awesome!

By the by, as an update to my last post, my mom is improved, but not out of the woods. My brother is there with her now and we are waiting on some test results. I may have to head back out there next week and am NOT looking forward to it. Work is insane and family life is insane and I want to escape into the relatively un-insane home I share with my incredibly sane man and hide…for a long time….

Day at a time.

AP Photo/Jake Schoellkopf