Yikes! Where does time go?

Wow! Here it is after Thanksgiving already. One of these days I'm going to figure out how I get so busy that I can't take a moment to breathe and just write.

So the Rockies lost the World Series. That time off really hurt their game, but that's okay. The boys are on the radar of everyone else now and will be taken seriously next season.

What I really need to get out, and got me back here again is the radio. You know when a song just catches you, turns you around and sits you down. Well, Garth does it again. More Than a Memory just gets me. Yeah, I've got one of those in my past that no matter how hard I try to forget something just won't let me. I know what each line of that song is about and hearing it puts me back there. It's haunting. It's not so bad now, but a song like that makes it fresh again. How do you get past that? If someone out there knows I'd love to hear about it. For now the song abrades the wound, it hurts so very much but you know that the air and light will heal it after the bad stuff is gone. Moving on with one step at a time. That's all I know how to do. Ignoring what's been, and hoping that the future will be different and brighter because it just has to be. Usually I'm good at letting go and know when to move on, usually.

Here's to Christmas and all it brings. New beginnings and hopeful things. Some day though the beginnings will become continuings. I look forward to that.

Denver is abuzz, it's Rocktober here.

There aren't too many places around here that you can go to lately that you don't see some sign of support for the Rockies, and who can blame anyone one for that? Who doesn't like the Kid Rocks? Though I'm not going to put anything purple on my black and white horse, I did wear the color myself on Tuesday after they won the National League pennant. Even my school has a banner in the entry way that says "Go Rockies!" (Now if the Broncos would follow their lead...)

In my own backyard, well.... if I had one.

It's amazing who's around town and how small the horse world really is. In my search for a new horse I met Bruce Ford. Yup, THE Bruce Ford. Rode two real fine horses he's got for sale. (5 time world bareback rodeo champion saw me ride, I daren't ask what he thought of me.) One would make a great reiner, the other's good with cows and roping. Nice, solid, big geldings. It was too bad that they are not what I'm looking for, and I hated telling him that, but the pleasure was mine in meeting Bruce.

Not the way I planned it.

It looks like Jaguar is finally, unavoidably, slowing down. It became ever more obvious during my lesson with Grant yesterday. I guess it's time, but losing Fawn makes the search bitter sweet.

Fawn was my little girl. I bred her, Jaguar saw her born, we raised her. She was our baby. The plan was for this stunning two year old to take over for Jaguar. She had outstanding movement, unbelievable talent, and an awesome personality. Nothing bothered her, everyone was her friend, and between her intelligence and laid back attitude she truly was special. In the woods she looked like a deer bounding along passing in and out of shadows over uneven ground and fallen trees. In a field she floated with piaffes, passages, extended trots, canter pirouettes and flying changes. One time I put her in a round pen on her own with a couple of cows, the likes of which she had never seen before, to see what she'd do. At first she wasn't sure, then she became curious. The next thing I knew she was cutting them and pushing them around like she had been doing it her whole life. Two old cowboys looked on with amazement. "Boy, now she's got cow." I beamed. Of course my baby girl did. Thinking it was a fluke I tried it a few weeks later. She loved it, the cows were her new toys. And with Affirmed as a granddad she had speed and heart too.

It was only a couple of weeks after moving Jaguar and Fawn here that I got a call telling me that Fawn had cast herself and was beat up a bit. I got to the stable as fast as I could. Fawn was disoriented, bleeding from her nose slightly, and had some small cuts. The manager's wife saw the whole episode and thought that Fawn had spooked, reared up, fell over backward then struggled and cast herself. I cleaned her up, watched her for a bit then put her back in the pen. Shortly after she started to have a seizure. We moved her to the round pen where she continued to have full on generalized as well as partial seizures over the next several hours. The vet I called thought it might be caused by the change of altitude, but he said the onset is usually immediate. The next day we went to CSU where they took radiographs of her head and neck. Nothing conclusive was found. We were given antibiotics and anti-inflammatory meds and sent home.

Two weeks went by and then she seized again. I had blood pulled and drove it to the lab. Nothing unusual showed up in the panel. Another trip to CSU and we came back with a prescription for phenobarbital. I started researching the possibility of EPM since it can cause seizures and she had other symptoms/background that fit. By this time I had contacted Stephen Reed DVM of Rood and Riddle and was working with him. Next came another trip to CSU for a spinal tap for fluid to further test for EPM since the blood work showed a high positive for antibodies. That came back with a high positive so I started the treatment for it. (Don't ask what the vet bills came out to be.)

May ended, and June past with no new seizures that anyone was aware of. The treatment ended, but under Dr. Reed's suggestion Fawn stayed on the phenobarb.. The thinking was that it would give her brain time to work around the damaged area and eventually she would be taken off of it. I could tell she hated being on it. The medicine made her unsteady and sleepy. Some times she wouldn't eat all of it right away, but leave some in her feed pot to finish later. Most of the time, however, she was her normal, bright, outgoing self.

Late one night in July, 1 am on the 19th, I got a call that she was seizing again. This was the worst episode. Jaguar tried to help her by putting himself between the panels and her body, but it didn't help. She crashed into everything as she struggled to keep her feet. She had beat herself up pretty badly and blood streaked her sweat soaked coat. I couldn't let her continue that way so when she settled down we loaded her into my stock trailer and the vet put her down. Jaguar and I said good bye, and then I drove her body to CSU.

Donating her was the best I could do in the end, and it was through the necropsy that a tumor was found in her middle ear. A very rare, and because a MRI could not have been done while she was seizing, inconclusive reason for her seizures.

I still cry body shaking sobs for her, but am glad that I followed every thing through as completely as I had and now know that there was nothing to be done other than what I did.

Good bye my wonderfully beautiful baby girl.

I'm not Job

I really don't know alot about the Rockies, much less than enough to write a book. What I do know is that I am not Job. Though it seems that God thinks I might be.

It's been about 3 weeks now I think since I was asked to come into the Principal's office to meet with her and the vice principal. The door was closed and I was invited to sit down. After a moment or so of shuffling around papers Kathie says "Don't worry, you're not in trouble." Gee, did my shaking hands clenched tightly in my lap give me away? Then, "Our enrollment is lower than we had expected, and since you were the last one hired we need to find a new place for you." I'm single, have bills to pay, thank God my truck just got paid off, and I don't have to think about Fawn (the only blessing about that), maybe I can develop my horse business into something full time.... streamed through my head. "I've already contacted Suzanne about the 2 positions she has available since they are under staffed. Would you be interested?" It was all I could do to not scream H*LL YEAH! I managed a restrained "Absolutely, very much so." An email was fired off and I left shaken. What was I going to do?

Numbly I started to drive home after a tearful call to my mom who started the job search for me. Half way home the vp called me. "Sara, we've scheduled an interview for you tomorrow. Don't worry about your class, we've already arranged for it to be covered." She continued on with details about what to wear, talk and ask about, etc. I called Mom back and gave her the information. She pulled up the school's website and read to me the Mission Statement and other important facts.

Getting home became a race against the clock to get myself together, update my resume and portfolio, and do everything else that comes with prepping for an interview. Needless to say, the little sleep I got that night wasn't the best.

The next day I had to lie my way out of the building. Where was I going, why... Ugh! When I got to my interview the vp walked me around the school while I waited for the principal. Big, beautiful, new building. Nothing like what I'm use to. Next, the interview. What did I know about the school, what questions did I have... wait a minute, this doesn't sound like an interview. "So what grade would you like to teach?" "I'd prefer the lower elementary since that is where my experience is and I just added the Early Childhood Education endorsement to my licence, but I'd be happy any where you need me." Gulp, I don't want rule myself out. "Could you start on Monday then in the 1/2 classroom?" "Yes, if that is okay with Kathie." I got it? I got it. I really got it! "Let me check with her," as she spun around to send off an email. "Why don't we take a walk down to some of your teammates' classrooms and introduce you."

After about 20 hours of panic and terror I found myself heading for a new school going from teaching 5th grade back down to my little guys. My previous students were and still are very upset. I get letters from them every few days. When it was announced to them, the last half hour of my last day with them (not my choice) everyone cried. The boys hid their faces in their hands, shirts or in a corner. Not good. The girls outright sobbed. It's okay now, but it hasn't been easy. My new class is great and I like the school. Here's to a new year, again.

That was my September.

How about those Rockies!

They're hot... sizzling. I may just have to become a fan. Of course they will never replace the Tigers. Listening to the Tigs and Ernie (arguably the best announcer of all time) with Grandpa on a lazy sunny afternoon while camping can't be touched. Paul Harvey falls into the same category for the same reason. Ah, the radio, what a lovely thing.

I finally got to see my first professional game this summer at Coors Field. About a third of the way up on the 1st baseline, and they won. Not as involving as hockey, but good just as well and I still had a voice with no headache when we left. So I guess, since it doesn't look like I'll be moving back to Michigan anytime soon, the Rockies will have to do. Oh darn, but I won't give up the Wings.

Introduction

By way of an introduction, this is an experiment. For many years people have suggested that I write a book, or that I could, about the twists and turns my life has taken and how full it has been. Perhaps... it's an interesting thought, but is there enough substance? This blog is the test drive of that possible endeavor. Mostly the suggestion is about my romantic life, and how crazy it is. For others it is about my knowledge of various areas which I have passions for.

Because of my profession, teacher, I fear that I must remain anonymous. It's true, teachers are not really people (at least that's what my students think). We don't go to the store, or any place else interesting like a night club. We live at school, and pull the bed down out of the wall every night. I think I've actually had a few really believe that as once evidenced by the studdering student as I walked by her and her parent in Wal-Mart. "Mom, sshhhhhhee - sssshhheeee's .... teacher!" was all the child could get out as she excitedly pointed my way.

*sigh* the clock ticks away reminding me that I have two riding lessons to teach tonight with my angel-saint of a horse, Jaguar, and a little Jack Russell, Crickett, waiting patientely for me at home to go for a run after a long day inside.