Relax, It’s Only Electile Dysfunction 


I normally shy away from discussing anything religious or political, but I sincerely {and I have tried} could not help myself this go round. Thanks to social media and the internet, it’s a free for all for opinion slinging these days on a bevy of topics from race, email servers, candidates, etc..  And I don’t like to jump in the fight {particularly when I am not educated enough to do so} but I did anyway.

This year’s election has me feeling like the 2nd coming couldn’t happen faster, because the real problem {I think} is one of these people will win. We are a nation of geniuses {relatively speaking}, and this is the best we have to offer?  My dog has more scruples, and that’s saying a lot. Trying to decide which presidential candidate is the most qualified to run our country is sorta like trying to pick a  cow patty up by the clean end… It ain’t happening. Can I just use a pitchfork?


On that note, I have totally offended, via social media, friends and random strangers these past couple of months by stating my political opinion {once or twice}, and it made me realize one thing…this subject isn’t worth it.  It isn’t worth the firestorm and barrage of heated opinions that come afterward, and it certainly isn’t worth losing friends over.  I’m not afraid to make people angry, or stating my thoughts or opinion, and my Irish temper and bad choice of vocabulary ensure the worst possible delivery of it. My witty humor is glared and scoffed at by those that disagree with the truth of the matter behind it.  And I am ok with that.  I am not educated in politics, but I am not a stupid person. {Just stupid enough to wallow in the mud with the pigs occassionally}.  But, I also realized that collectively, we have lost our sense of humor, and the ability to accept each other’s difference of opinion gracefully and kindly.  Believe it or not, incessant Trump or Clinton posting on Facebook probably won’t change anyone’s opinion.  It will only fuel the giant hate flame we have burning strongly.  The beauty of  where we live is having the ability to make a choice. We’ve become such an “in your face” society, that we can’t even post something on social media that isn’t a hateful opinion of some other situation. Myself included. And I no longer choose to go there.  Simply, because there are better things to focus on in life.

Politics shmolitics…I think our country is in need of a good old-fashioned stiff drink.  We’re all suffering from electile dysfunction. So, before you get behind your keyboard to post your next social media opinion, ask yourself a couple of questions:  Is it necessary? Is it helpful?  Is it educational?  If you can answer “yes”,  then share away, but be kind to those that choose to disagree with you.  Chances are neither one of you is right anyway.

In the meantime, vote your conscience, vote your morals, and love your neighbors, or at least try to like them.  Get outside of the giant media storm of politics, and get back to being good.  And don’t settle for second best whether that’s chocolate, beer, toilet paper, or integrity. Because we’re all going to need a lot of it to get through these next few months.

As for me, I will be sporting my Lonesome Dove “Augustus McCrae for President” shirt, popping the top of a cold one in honor of the good that remains, and riding my horse off into the big ‘ol Charlie Russell sunset.


Happy Trails~

Heather

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I Gotta Horse For Sale…

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Those of you in the horse world have seen them…those “horse for sale” ads and groups on Craig’s List and Facebook.  Now, I don’t begrudge someone wanting to sell a horse, and possibly recoup a little of the money spent on raising or training one, but from what I’ve seen lately, I’d rather buy a goat. And, before ya go and get your undergarments in a giant wad, or your hinder in a binder, here’s an example of what appears to be an acceptable ad these days:

RANCH DISPERSAL SALE

‘Beautiful Brood Mare Prospect’ 10 years old sorta broke registered American Quarter Horse grade paint brood mare with one eyeball, accidentally bred to my neighbor’s jack donkey through the fence. Bloodlines are amazing triple bred Doc Bar on sire’s side but the dam mighta been out of the great bronc, Lunatic Fringe.  She appears to be built for speed, but only when I try to catch her out of the 40 acre pasture, but most of the time she’s real friendly and you can catch her pert near anywhere with a grain bucket.  She’s pretty good with three of her feet, but that left hind is kinda a bitch. She might take your head off.  She’s a little toed in, and spavin hocked, but her teeth are good.  She may make a real nice barrel horse if you give her a 200 foot by 400 foot arena to turn her in.  Only asking $10,000 or best offer, but to a good home only.

’16 Year Old Seasoned Head Horse’ He’s a little stiff in the morning, but hell, what guy worth a plug nickel ain’t?  Appears to loosen up after stumbling a few laps around the the arena or 2o minutes of ground work.  He needs a little extra padding on them whithers and every month or so needs some cortisone injections, but he likes the vet.  He hates dogs, but would probably make a good “husband horse”.  I do believe John Wayne learned to rope off him.  He ground ties, trips into the trailer, and sleeps standing up.  He’s safe for most folks, but occasionally spooks at his own farts. He’s a steal at only $15,000. Won’t last long.

‘4 Year Old Green Broke Roping/Hunter/Jumper Prospect’ Nice tall boy. About 16H, a little narrow chested, but will grow. Has one testicle left but seems real calm and quiet.  Started him hunting and packing last fall.  That’s how we found out he’s a jumper.  Had him at the pack out corrals and he jumped the 8ft fence to flirt with the neighbor’s mare.  Once we caught him and had him tracking on some elk, he spooked when we shot the rifle, and we got to spend the rest of our time hunting him.  Brought him home and put him to work ranching, because we’re real ranchy punching cows and stuff. Threw a loop off him and he seemed to settle in real well until I realized I pantyhosed the calf, pissed off the mama cow, and ran the rope up under his tail.  He bucked just a little and cow kicked at me as I went off, but he just needs a little more ground work I think.  He’s gotta go though, cause I got some hospital bills to pay.  Only asking $14,500.  That should about cover the doc’s bills.

After all that… who needs a horse? Y’all be careful horse swappin’ out there… As for me, I’ma gonna buy me a goat…

Happy Trails~

Heather

 

 

Turn Out the Old Broodmare

I’ve recently decided that I am fast approaching what I call “broodmare” status.  Nothing center-drives that harsh fact home faster than having a beautiful & elegant seventeen year old daughter. (And possibly the sway back, crabby attitude, and hay belly that is starting to appear) And as much as I tell myself I don’t mind getting older, that age is only a number, I still seem to gracelessly accept this fact. But {hay}, I am also discovering there just may be some benefits to being the old broodmare…Here’s why:

  • Fillies are oggled over for their looks.  Ya know, nice straight legs, well-muscled & proportioned, a “v’d up chest”, strong hindquarters, and a pretty face to boot. Broodmares? Na. They’re just used-to-bes. Sway backs, gray hairs, and broom-tailed crabs, but she sure “has some nice-lookin’ babies”.
  • Somebody eventually tries to find the appropriate suitor, aka stud, for the filly; therefore, she always has to look and act her best.  The old girls don’t much care anymore, because the studs lookin’ their way ain’t much to talk over the darn fence about.
  • Young fillies have to prove themselves to be hard workers, reliable and dare I say? Unemotional? The first sign of PMS and attitude gets her labeled and probably reprimanded. Broodmares make darn sure everyone is well aware of their emotional status from the get go.  They don’t mince words, and you ain’t gonna get much outta them if you talk smart about it.
  • In order for the young girl to keep in shape, you have to feed her right and exercise her frequently.  After the old girl has foaled a couple of “keepers” you can pretty much bet that unless her teeth are bad, she can sustain on a rocky pasture with no grass or special needs, so she probably saves ya a little cash.  Basically, she’s less maintenance, and you better just lover her that way.
  • You have to teach the young filly EVERYTHING. You know gain her trust, teach her slow, let her make mistakes. Broodmares already know EVERYTHING. Even when you think they don’t. Don’t ever make the mistake of trying to tell ’em different. They didn’t make it this far by being stupid.
  • Youngsters think they have to be friends with the boys, and compete with the other fillies.  Old broads know where they stand with each other and learn to rely on their herd mates because they help get ’em through the cold months.

To sum ‘er up, I suppose aging ain’t all that bad.  With age comes a little wisdom, and a lot of life lived.  Old broodmare status is well-earned and well-deserved, so go ahead and turn me out in that pasture. And don’t worry young filly, you’ll be finishing that race faster than you ever dreamed!

Happy Trails~

Heather