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About ramblinwoman

I call a small, Minnesota town home. I'm a lover of life and all the simple things. Currently I spend my time enjoying my 20's and everything it has to offer, the good and the bad. I have a horse that acts much more like a dog. I have an undeniable love for "junque" and repurposing the old into something new and useful. Yes, I'm Norwegian, not full blooded by any means and I can't say I know the lost art of lefse making but I do enjoy Lutefisk...the good stuff....not the jelly you buy at the local grocery store. This is my first attempt at blogging, I'm a rookie and it will certainly show. However, I thoroughly enjoy putting my thoughts into words and spinning a regular, everyday incident into something a little more entertaining. I hope you enjoy the rambling!

Please Don’t Litter

I don’t necessarily want to continue turning this into a public service announcement but it’s certainly turned out that way. This week I want to put the word out there about garbage. Not just anyone’s garbage but yours.

Last week I posted a picture on Facebook of my dog next to a bag of trash. A bag filled with objects like foam, cans, bottles, yogurt containers, pieces of a shredded tire, chip bags, fast food containers, cigarette boxes – you name it, its in there. This all came about after many walks with my dog and the countless moments I had to stop just to take something away from her. Sure, maybe my dog shouldn’t pick it up. Maybe I should just let her get her fill of various types of plastic. But it occurred to me that I could do something about it. If she could pick it up, so could I.

I must have walked by this orange hole-y rag ten times. Every time Rousey (my dog) seen it she’d pounce like a cat and roll down the ditch with it hanging from her mouth. In the beginning I’d take it from her and then I wised up to completely deter her from it by walking way around it. There it laid in the same spot all ten times. Then there were the pieces of a broom head. Oh what fun they were for her and I’m sure the feeling of bristles against the roof of her mouth was glorious! However, once again I’d probably taken each piece from her and thrown it to the wayside. I understand that accidents happen and something may fly out of a vehicle but a lot of this could be prevented.

I’d personally like to thank the person that eats Dannon yogurt, smokes Marlboro Lights, drinks Old Mill, those that frequent Jimmy John’s and the person who throws out the cardboard to their personal pan pizza everyday. Thank you for entertaining my dog. It’s been a real honor. You might be surprised to know that not all, but some of this garbage is now where it belongs. In a trash can.

Oddly enough, even though a human (me) helped in throwing this garbage away, I also taught my dog to assist. My dog is now, partially, capable of throwing away someone else’s garbage. Yet, all the people who roll down their window and toss it to the ground have not yet refined this skill. Perhaps you’re waiting for a treat for doing so? Your treat – keeping your neighborhood clean.

Please don’t litter, no matter where you’re going, I promise there will be a garbage can.

Words to Feed The Soul

This week is a simple reminder about happiness. Our happiness, your happiness, his happiness and her happiness – all of the above! I’m not an expert but I have learned a thing or two in my day.

Life gets crazy and too complicated sometimes. I think we spend a lot of time making others happy instead of ourselves. But what we often forget is that if we are happy, those around us will be happy. It’s easier to be of service to people and give back when we feel content. Otherwise its just a vicious cycle of resentment and misery until something snaps!

Whatever you do, don’t snap! Don’t let it get to that point. We’ve all been there – stressed and a mess; when we can’t take it anymore we lose our mind, if only temporarily, we still lose it.

As if our daily routine isn’t taxing enough our news is constantly filled with doom and gloom. None of us have “personal” lives anymore. It’s all public – every last bit is public.

With Facebook, Snapchat and instagram we have the annoying ability to showcase every detail of our life. But its tailored to seem perfect when realistically we’re one screw loose from falling apart. My concern is that while we consume ourselves with constant communication and others lives, problems etc. we’re missing important real life stuff. The real stuff that makes us happy.

I recently wrote a piece on “8 Ways to Feed Your Soul.” I conformed to the big bad list world and made my bullet points on what a person can do to feed their soul when feeling deprived. Let me repeat that. I wrote a list, for other people to read, on how to feed their soul. Gross. Why do we need lists like that? Why do we need a reminder on how to do things that make us happy? Someone, somewhere has literally Googled, “how to feed the soul.” Yuck. For the record – the piece was really good and you should read it sometime, but please don’t be the person that HAS to read it.

Take some time for yourself, unplug and unwind. Do what’s good for you and dare I say, “feed your soul” Naturally of course, none of that artificial junk!


The past few weeks have been challenging. It doesn’t matter why because everyone has their hurdles. I’m not here to tell you why I feel pressed or exhausted. But, I am here to tell you about circumstance.

I often discuss quotes because they’re placed in quotations for a reason. They’re meant to stand out and draw attention. My favorite quote is my inspiration for this week.

“The same water that softens potatoes, hardens eggs. It’s all about what you’re made of not your circumstance.”

How’s that for a slap in the face? Refreshing? I think so! We all spend a majority of our time “busy.” Overall, I think we wish we weren’t so busy but at the same time we aren’t sure what we’d do without it. Its a bit of a crutch in my opinion. I don’t want to focus on only the excuse of being busy but all excuses. I’m tired, poor, dumb or old. There are so many more but I can’t possibly list them all. The point is, as the quote suggests,”…it’s what you’re made of not your circumstance.” We can easily change circumstance but our composition of character is a bit more complex.

While bear hunting this last weekend I went out of my comfort zone to hunt on the ground. A bit scary but overall a great experience. I wish I could say I took home a bear but a good nap, chipmunk and field mouse are all I could’ve caught. I may not have tagged a bear but I did bring home a lesson.

We sat behind a monstrous fallen down tree. Who knows how long it stood and who knows how long it’s laid in the woods. Half of it was rotted away as it showed an open face to its core. As it assisted as our shield, I couldn’t help but think about it years before. I can only imagine that it stood tall and boisterous over the other trees. Perhaps the pioneer of them all! As it stood I’m sure it never wished it be shorter, thinner or younger. I’d assume it was proud and happy that so many looked up it. A tree is a tree but how is it that we could learn so much from it.

On the day it fell I’m sure it was very aware. It wasn’t surprised or sad, nor did it feel broken. Perhaps it understood it had another purpose and was prepared to take on other duties. Surely you don’t believe I can speak for a tree so let’s replace the tree with ourselves.

We’re all very aware of our situation, lifestyle and choices. However, a large portion of us continually find something wrong with our situation, lifestyle and choices. There’s complaints, arguments and excuses. But for what? Hoping it changes? The only change will be with you. Let that sink in.

Back to the tree – From the time that it stood to the time that it fell it continues to provided food, shelter and resources to many living things and ecosystems. I realize feelings aren’t involved but substance is!

Each of us are unique, complicated individuals. We’re all made up of something special and have a lot to offer. However, if you can’t manage the individuality, talent and resources you offer to this world, who can? I hate to tell you this but if a tree that can’t move, act, or express itself voluntarily has the ability to adapt….so do you.

Defective Society

First and foremost I need to take a moment to thank all of you. Yes, you! You reading this right now that comes back each week and looks for me. I’ve had a TON of positive feedback. Whether it’s taking the time to stop me and let me know you enjoy reading, passing the good word onto my family or anyone who faithfully reads……Thank You! Above all else, this encourages me to continue. I appreciate you, you are awesome and I couldn’t do it without all the kind words. Mmmmuah!!

Since that was all a little too touchy feely I think I’ll switch gears rather drastically. Lately I can’t help but be annoyed with my surroundings. Not the company I keep, my home or family of course but with society. Most days I’m dizzy from everything I hear on the radio, news, social media and in passing conversation. So, if you don’t mind I’d like to explain why I must be a defective product of our society….

I’m defective because I don’t understand why females these days use the crop feature while editing photos to ensure their forehead is out of the frame, yet a ton of cleavage. For all the guys out there questioning, “what’s so wrong with that?” It’s wrong because a lot of these girls are young, too young to be able to put a photo on the internet that will be there forever. Perhaps I missed the memo on when foreheads became so awful? I like my forehead, it’s a little big but it serves its purpose.

I’m defective because I know when I need to express my opinion and when I don’t. Our viral world has enabled us to cram our opinions further down each others throats than we ever thought possible. It’s mentally exhausting listening to everyone’s two cents. I remember when it was inappropriate to discuss such things as politics, religion and human rights in-depth with just anybody. In a world where we are so PC I find it odd people act this way. If I’m eating my lunch in silence, chances are the last thing I want to talk about is my opinion of presidential candidates, planned parenthood or gay rights. I just want to eat my leftovers and mind my own business. Thanks, but no thanks.

I’m defective because I’m unable to be politically correct every waking moment of my life. If its green I’m going to call it green. I’m not going to call a green ball a 50% blue 50% yellow ball. Why are we so offended by what something really is and why must we glorify everything? I still believe in 1st place, I still wish a Merry Christmas and I still call the man who picks up garbage a garbage man…not a sanitation engineer.

I’m defective because I don’t suffer from the entitlement syndrome. A person doesn’t deserve anything if they aren’t willing to work for it. Why are there so many people with their hands out? Why do irresponsible and unmotivated people get help when there are those that work well over 40 hours a week and still can’t afford the essentials? There are so many things I can’t wrap my head around on this subject. I’d rather struggle and know I’ve done it myself than know I took advantage of a person or a system. I’d love to make a snarky sarcastic comment to go along with this one but I just can’t. The whole idea makes me more angry than not getting free groceries and free healthcare.

I’m defective because I don’t like celebrities. How did we shift from innocent idolizing to obsession? Most days I feel as though this is their world and we’re just living in it. We are the pawns and they are playing one heck of a game. It makes me sick knowing how much they influence the average person. Sadly it’s no longer only the teenagers that are crazed and driven to be just like their favorite star. I think we’d all be surprised by how many adults have posters of their beloved celebrities hung by tacks on their bedroom walls.

I’m defective because I don’t believe everything I see on the internet. I can’t even begin to count how many times I’ve witnessed people passing on useless information. I want to take a moment to remind everyone of the technology we have today, from photo and video editing to special effects, its abundant. Just because it was seen in a video/picture or read on the internet does NOT mean it actually happened. I repeat, it does NOT mean it actually happened. This does however create some fun for the slightly more intelligent. My favorite is the person who created a picture of Steven Spielberg sitting in front of a seemingly dead triceratops with an assault rifle nearby. Soooo many people were outraged by how heartless a person could be to kill such an animal. It’s a dinosaur and you’re an idiot.

I feel like I’m getting a little heated so I should stop here. Believe me when I say, there’s more where that came from. I could create a much longer list but for the sake of time and space for actual news, I’ll spare you.

Until next time….




I’m not sure if I’ve wrote about this before. I probably could’ve filed through to be sure I’m not repeating myself but isn’t that kind of the point of rambling. Going on and on and on and on…. it’s basically the Webster definition, okay, the Norwegian Webster definition. Slightly modified yet still synonymous. Any-who here it is…

Last week I had a hankering for Caribou coffee. If you didn’t know, I’m a bit of a coffee fanatic. So, here I sit in 80+ degree weather in my black leather upholstered, non-air conditioned car, hating every sweaty second of my wait in line. While my anxiety built and my head hung out the window like a hound I hear my total out the window to the car ahead of me. I found it odd but assumed an iced mocha and turkey ciabatta was the hot item of the day. I finally get to the window; hand over my debit card to find it’s already been taken care of. WOW! I suddenly felt a bit sheepish for complaining about my lengthy wait. My guess is that for one of two reasons this wonderful person picked up my bill. They either felt my pain as my head and tongue hung out the window or they had a kind heart that enjoys a surprise just as much as myself! I’ll go with the latter. I think even if the barista wanted to slap the smile off my face it wouldn’t have worked.

It really is the most fluttery of feelings when someone does such a thing. My mind raced with how I would pay it forward and how I would continue the good deed. Unfortunately I was very unoriginal and paid for the car behind me. As soon as I see the car pull up behind me I told the Caribou worker, “We might as well keep this thing going.” She matched my smile and took my card.

You hear about these pay it forward acts fairly often. It’s humanity at its finest. Doing something for someone without knowing their name, beliefs, political views or their take on public breast feeding. Thanks to Facebook I could tell you everyone who is pro and who is no on that fine subject. All kidding aside it is rather refreshing to be selfless and to do it on an unannounced note. I realize talking about it in a blog isn’t very hush-hush but at least its spreading awareness. Yes, awareness.

It’s unfortunate we need to spread awareness for humanity. But, welcome to the world we live in. I’m not saying everything and everyone is bad but acts such as the one I’ve shared with you today, surely give me hope for all the good out there. It’s undeniable that these events begin a chain reaction of good fun, positive spirit and joy. So, why isn’t there more of it?

This reminds me of the last time I lit the good karma flame. While out to a restaurant with my parents I seen an older couple digging for a coupon. The lady at the counter looked slightly irritated and called me forward to ring me up. I quietly asked her to ring up the couple’s food and she appeared confused. After some coaxing she did as I asked. Thankfully this was all done before the couple found what they were looking for because I think the gentleman would have tried to talk me out of it. When the couple looked up in amazement, they stuttered ever so slightly and asked, “How’d you do that.” I simply replied, “Magic.”

Following my last question….When is the last time you used your magic?


Regret or Gratitude

I don’t like to talk about death, I don’t like to think about it or believe it can even happen. Some people find peace with death through religion and in some instances reason. If we can understand why it happens maybe it will make us feel better. After all, we’re taught that everything can always be explained. When we fail to find understanding it’s time that we’re told heals. Loss is something everyone copes with differently so there is no cure all.

As I said death isn’t my favorite topic. Life on the other hand is. I read a quote by Anne Frank this week that said, “Dead people receive more flowers than the living ones because regret is stronger than gratitude.” This gave me chills and almost instant regret. It nearly sent me into panic thinking of all the people I need to send flowers to because I care about them, I’m thankful for them and I not sure what I’d do without them. As reality set back in I couldn’t help but wonder if every person I feel those things for knows. Knows that I love them, that I think they’re wonderful, unique people that make my world go ’round. Do they understand that they matter to me….that they matter to many? Do they realize their worth to others…...the uncertainty could go on forever.

The average person doesn’t think about this on a daily basis but perhaps we should start. If not thinking at least acting, acting on our feelings and portraying them appropriately. I say this for those that withhold their feelings, those that take people and moments for granted and those that are waiting for the right time. There isn’t a time set aside specifically for these kinds of things, they are for now. Don’t spare someone the moment for you to tell them how much you appreciate them, love them, need them or just hug them. I mean it, hug your loved ones. At the same time I think its equally important to talk about the not so flattering issues. Those nagging issues create distance and unnecessary resentment. Do yourself and others a favor and wear your heart on your sleeve. It doesn’t matter if its not the “cool” thing to do, if its not manly and if its too touchy feely. Just do it.
I don’t mean for this to be vague, it also isn’t something that by coincidence I chose to talk about. I’ve seen a lot of sadness the past few weeks and its understandable. It’s okay to be mad, sad, hurt, lost, confused and even emotionless. Whether it be young or old, losing someone is difficult. Whether it be family, friend or acquaintance, the lose is still impactful. Coming from this small community I am confident in it as a support system. I’m confident that we will be there for one another and help those through difficult times. Not just now but always.
Please remember to be kind. Be mindful. Be compassionate. Be understanding. Be supportive. Be present. Be love.

The Negativity Effect

Disclaimers usually appear at the end of a proposal, production or any debatable content. Since you’d find this subject under debatable I’ll just cut to the chase and give you the disclaimer beforehand. *In no way shape or form do I feel that I am not or ever have been a producer of the negativity effect. I certainly contribute my fair share. This specific piece I’ve written has nothing to do with any one person, it’s a generalization and in my opinion all people suffer from it. However, if you feel like you see some similarities within yourself…as they say, “If the shoe fits, lace it up and wear it.”

If you’ve read anything from me you’ll know 9 times out of 10 I’ll take the positive road. I’m a believer in karma, I think that what you give out is exactly what you get back. I believe the thoughts you think will eventually become a very real product within your life. I’m no motivational speaker but I know when someone should see the bright side of that murky, dark cloud above them. Life can ALWAYS be worse and life can ALWAYS get better. You decide which one you’ll focus on. Simple concept, right?

The negativity effect is something that starts with one extremely negative individual and flows through to every single person they meet along their way. This person wakes up in the morning…didn’t get enough sleep, has some type of ailment, probably had someone pee in their Wheaties….because that’s the only way they’ll eat their Wheaties, with a big helping of “poor me” some sugar. (wink, wink)

They most likely had some horrific thing happen to them getting ready for work or on the way to work because they’re certain it’s only them that get up, get ready and make their way out into the big world. Bravo, I am so proud of you for waking up and contributing to society, we all thank you. Even though you may show how positively proud you are of this person or thank God that they arrived alive and well, they won’t notice.

They won’t notice because they’re much too busy pointing out what awful circumstance was on the T.V., radio or waiting for them when they arrived at their destination. As they pour themselves a cup of joe you’ll wish they’d pour a cup of something very different. I’ll let you fill in the blank on that one, it’s so much more fun if you guys can participate with me. You’ll notice these people are excessive repeaters. So if it wasn’t fun enough to hear it once, you get the divine opportunity to hear it again and again until you get the positively, overwhelming urge to let them know you’ve heard it all before.

You’ll find all too often that as you catch up on the last few weeks, days, or even hours that your life isn’t nearly as bad as theirs. You’ll notice that your life isn’t as hectic, boring, cursed or important as theirs. You’ll feel slightly insignificant, unless of course you can come up with something as heinous as them.

If you haven’t noticed, in just a short visit you’ve already felt the need to hush someone, tried to control your sanity and felt the need to find something awful about your life just to compete. This is the negativity effect in full force. Soon you’ll pass someone who asks you how your day is and you’ll reply with a less than flattering answer. You’ll feel tired, sluggish and unmotivated while around theses blatant fun suckers. All positive energy has been drained and because you feel irritated you will in turn, force that irritation on others.

I’m not the only one that feels the pain of the negativity effect. I see and hear others enduring the same. That being said, like any other problem; if we’re going to complain about it, we should fix it!

The next time you show friendly interest in others lives…negative people’s lives, do you both a favor a make sure your reaction is perfectly tailored. If you ask how their Summer has been and they reply with, “Busy, I feel like I didn’t get a chance to enjoy it.” You reply with how wonderful yours has been because you aren’t afraid to take a break. When you ask them how they’ve been and they say, “Exhausted, I’m constantly going here, there and everywhere. So much to do!” You reply with how many great experiences you’ve had and all the places you’ve been thankful for going. When the negativity effect is being passed via social baton, you either throw that dirty baton on the ground or you do a dazzling juggling act and carry that baton like it’s your day job! Never let someone else’s poor attitude bring you down.

We learn these things as children but adults are quick to forget.




Welcome to 25

Turning 25 wasn’t difficult. In fact, it was like most any other day and the only obvious inconvenience was having to renew my license. However, I am still suffering from slight anxiety as to what my picture will look like. Though suffering from slight anxiety isn’t anything new for me I have noticed slight differences in my overall person. It’s what I’d like to call “Welcome to 25!” All you 18-20-somethings hear about it, you are warned well before to prepare, yet nobody is ever prepared.

Okay, I suppose to be politically correct, we’re all warned about every milestone age in our lives. 18, 21, 25, 30, 40, 50 and so on. Alright and maybe 25 isn’t a milestone age, I don’t know, I’m only 25 so give me a break on this one. But as I mentioned there are definite differences and unless you are very self-aware, you may not notice until it’s too late. So this is my warning to you.

Summer is the season of love, engagements, weddings, babies….blah, blah, blah. I have more wedding invites, thank you cards, birth announcements than I have fridge magnets. I hate to admit this but if you haven’t sent me something in the past month you are bumped off, cut, fired…from my fridge. You get demoted to “the stack.” You want to talk about differences in wants/needs at 25 vs. 21. I literally asked for fridge magnets for my birthday this year, at 21 all I wanted was alcohol. Booz, booz and more booz. Not now, my birthday wish list has been changed, rearranged and lost beneath a stack of other people’s love. I still didn’t get fridge magnets, perhaps that’s what 26 has in store for me, fingers crossed.

I’m a video watcher. Lord knows I love a good knee slapper of a video. All the latest from The Vine, YouTube, Dubsmash and any home videos that offer gut busting entertainment, believe me, I’ve seen it. If you could recall my search history prior to 25 you would see an obscene amount of “people falling, wipeouts, hilarious sports accident compilations.” Now you would see “funny cats, babies with puppies, little kids laughing and restoring humanity.” When, why and how….those are my questions. I don’t know when it started, why it’s happening and how I have continued to let it happen. But as I said, Welcome to 25.

This one is obvious and an oldie but a goodie. Well, sort of good but mostly bad. Say you and your bad, rebel 25-year old self stay out till 1…got a little crazy, maybe 2:00 A.M. The next day is ruff. It’s actually really nauseating and its near impossible to think of doing it again. Of course it doesn’t matter what age you are, you WILL do it again. But day two and three, those are the kickers. No joke, I’ve caught myself using hypochondriac like behavior for my poor health days after a night on the town. Unwilling to admit that it’s the lasting effect of not being 21 anymore. I strongly believe at about 17 you are given this wonderful gift of awesomeness and its a ticking time bomb. Nobody knows when its going off, but when it does, you’ll probably be 25.

I know I’ve said this numerous times, I’ve admitted to needing to slow down in the fun zone. Take off my party hate and forfeit the good time Kelsey. Oddly enough, you don’t choose to do this. It chooses you. It’s as if there comes a time and you are suddenly the chosen one. The chosen one to do more weekend projects than day drinking and to be in bed by 11 instead of 1. For example, our initial plan was a trip to Duluth for birthday festivities, then it changed to pontoon-ing, then it changed to landscaping my flower beds and mowing lawn. I’d say a far cry from Duluth but nonetheless a good time. That’s how it goes, suddenly you are content with so much less.

I’m not sure if people at some point see you morph into a helpless adult when it comes to making BIG life decisions but they always seem to want to offer priceless advice or give you their two cents thats been burning a hole in their pocket. Coming from a girl who has put zero thought into “girly” things such as weddings, wedding rings, baby names etc…this is as nauseating as the 2, okay, 3-day hangover. Please stop commenting on our non-existent weddings, wedding rings and babies. It’s not even okay to comment on the non-existent boyfriend. Leave us alone, we’ll have it figured out by 30. Or so I’ve heard.

I’m only 10 days into this enlightening journey of a quarter century but boy has it been fun. So fun, I’m actually a little exhausted from all the fun. And just so you know, you want to take more naps at 25 too. Also, a little rule to live by. Always, under every circumstance use the word “only” in front of your age, please…and thank you.

Horse Sense

Many know I have a four legged friend that I adoringly call Nikko. He’s a dog stuck in a horses body and we’ve been pals for a while now. This month he turned the ripe age of 11 and I’ll be turning 25. As my birthday approaches, I begin to reflect on the obvious…the last 25 years…or roughly 20 because who really remembers much before 5 anyway. Sure my parents got me through the first 14 years and have had much of an influence on the rest but good ol’ Nikko has been with me for 11. There will come a time where we’ve been together longer than we’ve been apart. Most can’t say that about a pet. As I reflect on time, I can’t help but reflect on him.

I’ve read stories about why parents made the choice to get their child a horse, how it helped shape their character and refined them into incredible adults. These stories are no joke. I can’t honestly tell you it’s specific to only horses but I’m a little biased on this so, yeah, it has everything to do with A HORSE. I’ll remind you at the end and I’ll tell you now…if you’re reading this and your child has asked you for a horse. You get em’ a darn horse!

I could go on about all the countless, hilarious predicaments Nikko has gotten himself into over the years. I could ramble about the infinite amount of times he’s misbehaved. I could talk about all the times I’ve fallen off, gotten a black eye or had my foot stepped on. I might entertain you with his quirks, canine like behaviors and his love of anything edible. I could woe you with all the times he’s fixed me when I was broken, lonely or sad. I could sit here and tear up like a fool and tell you a marvelous story about a girl and her horse, but I won’t. I’ll keep it very general so all you parents out there on the fence about acquiring a horse know just how important it is you get em’ that darn horse.

Nikko taught me about responsibility. As a condition of having a horse it wasn’t going to be a free ride. I was to do the chores, I was to spend time with him, teach him, love him and care for him in every way. I wasn’t given a horse free of responsibility. From the time I was proud enough to call him mine it has forever been up to me. At the point in which I might no longer want to do all of the above, he would be gone. Clean cut.

Nikko taught me about hard work. Everything about a horse is hard work….especially hay. Good lord, the hay. Ugh! From having to work to pay for it, to working to put it up. You will most likely touch the same hay 3-4 times, only for it to eventually be manure. And all the times my dad must have grinned ear to ear watching me struggle to haul water buckets I wasn’t strong enough to carry when the stock tank froze. You work hard for what you want, simple as that.

Nikko taught me patience. If you’re lucky enough to have a baby horse, both horse and human learn patience together. The halter training, the leading, the manners, and the riding. Repetition is the game and you my friend are player one and player two. You won’t always win but the sport is worth it.

Nikko taught me compassion. You learn to be selfless, caring and kind. Since horses can’t communicate verbally you never get a simple thank you. Yet, you will still care for them and do it without question.

Nikko taught me about trust. He taught me trust because you need it if you plan on jumping on the back of a 1,200 pound animal with a mind of its own.  He also made me aware that even if you trust something, it can still do you wrong, it can still hurt you, make you angry and frustrate you.

Nikko taught me forgiveness. I won’t forget every bump and bruise along the way but I will always forgive. Animals and humans alike, we all make mistakes. Forgiveness repairs and it is absolutely vital if you intend on interacting with others.

Nikko taught me to appreciate the small things. There isn’t one horse person I know that doesn’t wish they could make a horse air freshener. Just the smell is something to appreciate. Wide open spaces, nature, the breeze, the sun and everything else you fall in love with from the back of a horse. You learn to have fun without a single word being said and there aren’t many things that will teach you that today, if any.

These are just a few I chose to share. Horse person or not it’s hard to ignore the impact these animals have on a person. I only hope to one day get the timeless Christmas wish list from my child that sports #1 as: A horse.

If your kid wants a horse, get em’ a darn horse.

Add A Little “Pest” To Life

I wish I had more personal discipline. I wish I could sit down, take my half hour and write something every week. It’s not difficult; it’s merely a result of poor time management. I’ve had a few great things to put in front of you over the last couple weeks, yet, I’ve failed to do so. Daily I have these really great ideas for writing topics but it always turns out to be bits and pieces, never long enough to be suitable for a column or blog. Those really great, tiny ideas get put in a drafts folder to be added to later. So, no worries, my motto is better late than never. They will at some point make their way to you. I will also state that I’ve been working on discipline for 24 almost 25 years now and it’s a constant work in-progress. One might say never ending.

Like most things in life there is a balance. What you lack in one aspect you make up for in another. My poor time management, discipline and over all inability to strictly focus on one thing are complimented by my ability to work well under pressure and my luck of never living a boring life. Ever. Lately the little voice in my head has constantly been reminding me to write something. A constant nagging of sorts….very annoying. Apparently I’ve just been waiting for something to fall in my lap, an easy write up…just before deadline. So, here it is.

First and foremost I should admit that I make it seem like living in a hundred year old house is super fun and great. Even though I’m a lover of history, old houses and their charming character, there comes a time where I have to say living in an old house can be a tad gross. There are nooks and crannies, creepy crawlies and things that set up shop well before I did. Needless to say my first year here has been an adventurous one.

The first thing I noticed was bugs. I grew up in an old farm house so I know how relentless flies and beetles can be. Seeing those was no shock. I called people that get rid of those things and others for a living. Best money I’ve ever spent. All summer I was happy to find nothing else shacking up with me. Until at 24 years old, experienced my first bee sting. Actually, I think it was a wasp; they’d made a cozy little hut under an old deck table. I got stung, the death spray came out and the table got burned. Problem solved. The rest of the season I enjoyed the squirrels, rabbits, the occasional deer and birds… Err wait, no, I didn’t enjoy birds. In fact this reminds me of my stove bird.

I came home shortly after I bought my house. I’d recently cleaned out my wood stove as the weather turned warm. I walk in and hear a horrid, nails on a chalk board scratching. I’m looking around frantically trying to find where it’s coming from. I look at my stove and the pipe is rattling. I call Papa Dan in hope he’d have a magical solution. No luck…he’s there I’m here…after a bit of coaxing I get off the phone to further investigate. I flip my closed damper back and forth…nothing. I knock on the pipe only to get a scratching in reply. I flip the damper again, bloop, a bird drops into the belly of my stove. Here I sit staring back at the real angry bird. I gasp and he pecks on the glass at me. I have just enough time to snap a picture as proof that I indeed had a live bird in my stove. Then poof he’s gone! My damper was closed so he certainly didn’t go up. He must of crawled behind the fire brick. Then poof, there he was again! At this point it was funny, yet I had no idea how he would get out. Opening the stove door was completely out of the question. The next day he was still there, the day after that I never seen him again. He either crawled behind my fire brick and I cremated him on a cold evening or he skillfully flew out. I’ll just say I highly doubt he made it out.

Fall and winter made itself known. Only God knows for what reason at that point I decided to bring a cat into my home. A welcomed pest if you will, to keep me company during the winter months. A week prior to Roofus (the cat) joining me I had noticed something a bit strange around my house. Acorns. Yep, acorns in the most random of places. As a result I wasn’t sleeping well at night, as you might have guessed; it wasn’t me with the acorn fetish. I made a few concerned phone calls to my parents, like they were going to save me from the acorn hoarder. Any who, I make sure to be closing my door at all times and the pest people never found any obvious entrances so I thought perhaps I was imagining things. Until one night baby Roofus and I were sitting on the couch getting to know each other. He was no bigger than an acorn himself and out of the corner of my eye I see movement. There running the length of my living room was the acorn bandit! I couldn’t tell you what it was, but I screamed, stood on my couch and hurled the baby cat at it like he was going to save the day. I think I cried that night as I stood on my couch, calling my mom, wondering what the heck I got myself into. Another life line call to the pest pros and it was taken care of.

As most of you may know I now have this super cool guy named Tom that hangs around since Roofus went back to the farm. He earns his keep by doing manly stuff like weed eating with our cool new weed eater. This past Thursday he was out manly weed eating, I was doing woman things like washing dishes. I hear my name yelled. Not an excited or angry yell but a scared yell. I imagine he chopped his leg off or butchered one of my plants. Turns out he found one of his most favorite things in the whole world. A snake. He insisted I do something about it. Why yes dear can I please get that snake for you…ick…NO! It’s obvious that he can’t move because he’s holding it hostage against my step so it won’t further slither into a hole exposed by my recent need for internet! I knew internet was evil! This time I didn’t have time to call my parents, the pest people or borrow the neighbor’s cat to pacify the situation. This was all me. Being the cautious female that I am I grab gloves. I still feel the nasty, leathery snake on my fingers and I get the full body shivers. I’m screaming, Tom’s screaming…the neighbors probably think we’re dying. I lose it and grab a hammer. Why? Because that’s what I could find. I wrap the snake around the claw and fling it out. Except there wasn’t much flinging and it landed directly behind me. I proceed to scream, shiver, dance and further fling it away from the house. I won’t say specifically what happened next but Tom continued to manly weed eat…

Now that I’ve painted this awful picture, I would like to remind you that my home is quite wonderful! It’s not bursting with critters and I’m not planning on becoming Snow White anytime soon. But I do think unwanted pests are common with all houses, new and old. It’s just taking a little longer to make these pests aware that it’s no longer a town hall but a home, that’s the uncommon part. This isn’t a paid ad for my pest people but seriously, if you need anything, I know some people!