Lazy Summer Evenings

As nice as it is sitting around the house, teaching the boys about etiquette and the finer things in life,


I’m trying to take advantage of summer.

For all I complain about living in SoCal, sometimes there are perks.

The beach is quite nice.

After work I’ll toss the boys in the car and drive down to the pier. Traipsing about in the sand while the sun lingers in the golden sky is a very nice way to end a busy, stressful day.

DragonMonkey and the Squid seem to have a good time.

It’s nice to see them bonding as brothers.


Some nights the thought of dealing with sand and the inevitable meltdowns is too much.

I’ll plop The Squid in one of the many carriers I have around,

slap a leash on Max, and off we’ll go.

It’s hard for me to be depressed about my life if I’m outside. Besides, both the DragonMonkey and Bad Max seem to enjoy our new evening rituals.

Last weekend I dragged The Bean with me out on a walk.

“Come on, you’ll enjoy yourself. It’s beautiful outside! Sun, breeze, fresh air….”

I grabbed his hand, and pulled him to his feet.

“You won’t regret it.”

The four of us set off to walk along the riverbed trail.

It was really nice.

BadMax and the DragonMonkey forged ahead. The DragonMonkey’s extremely proud of the fact that he is walking HIS dog, and he makes sure everyone we pass knows it.

“Walk MAX. I walk Max. WALK MAX. Yoook. Yook at me. WALK MAX,” he hollers.

The sound of the sand crunching beneath my sneakers was soothing, and The Bean and I walked along in companionable silence, shoulders bumping.

The afternoon breeze was light, but the day was warm enough that it felt good against my skin. I closed my eyes slightly and tilted my face up to the sun, smiling slightly.

Something fluttered against my hand, brushing down lightly.

Landing? Did something just land on my hand?

Umm… did I have a bug on my hand?

I pride myself on not being a squealy girly-girl about bugs, but still… did something seriously just land on my hand?!

With The Squid strapped to the front of me I couldn’t just glance down, so I did the next best thing: I shook my hand, blindly trying to flick it off.

Something large clung tightly to my finger… AND BIT ME.

It’s amazing how quickly someone who prides herself on not being a squealy girly-girl about bugs can throw her pride out the window.

“EEEEE! EEEE!” I flapped my hand frantically, accidentally smacking The Squidgelet in the process, prompting him to howl. “Eeee! Get it off! Getitoff! Getitoff!”

I shied into the Bean, hard, throwing him off balance. I could still feel it, whatever it was, heavy and flappy, clinging tight to my hand. I flapped it against my thigh, trying to squish it, but it clung stubbornly and bit again.

“EEEEEEE!!!! GETITOFF!”

With one last flick I felt it come loose and out of the corner of my eye I saw it falling towards my pants leg. I bounced to the side with another squeal…

And watched as a large butterfly fluttered brokenly to the ground.

I stared at it in confusion for a moment.

“It’s a just a BUTTERFLY. It’s a MONARCH BUTTERFLY.” I looked up to see who spoke and saw a pack of bicyclists riding past me, all glaring at me with similar looks of disdain and accusation. Stupid sissy girl. Butterfly killer.

I blushed, and busied myself trying to soothe The Squidgelet. I didn’t look up until the sound of their bicycles and their feel of their judgy, judgy eyes were far in the distance.

“It bit me,” I explained to The Bean.

“Butterflies bite?” He raised his eyebrows.

“WHATEVER. I know what I felt.”

Ahead of us, the DragonMonkey and Max were stopped, watching us. “Bug? Mama kill bug?” The DragonMonkey watched me, eyes wide. Learning.

Yes, that’s right, my son. In this family we destroy butterflies. We also eat spotted owl soup and warm ourselves at night with our baby seal blankets.

“No, DragonMonkey. It was a mistake. Forget about it.” Right. As if. “Let’s just keep walking.”

“Butterflies bite?” The Bean asked again, smirking.

“Shut up.”

I came, I saw, I rode… and Conquered

Labor Day weekend.

It was our last real weekend together as a family until Thanksgiving. The Bean is taking 18 units this semester in addition with his normal full-time job. I expect I’ll catch glimpses of him between now and then, but that’s about it.

He graduates in May and we both agree it just can’t happen soon enough.

Since there is only one real way to celebrate a three day weekend, there was little doubt where we’d go:

Bakersfield.

Horses.

Am I sounding like a broken record yet?

The DragonMonkey shows every sign of becoming a full-fledged member of the horseaii society. (Mugwump, did you come up with that phrase or did you hear it somewhere else?)

He didn’t sleep at all during the nearly three hour drive up to Bakersfield.

Howse? Horwse? Wide Horwse? Wide Horwse? Pet Horwse? Niiiice, howrsie. Niiiice. Ride? Ride Horwse?”

It was cute at first, but after three hours I was almost wishing horses didn’t exist.

We saw Cotton’s new filly, who at three months old is growing up to be quite the little looker.

I finally got a chance to ride Willy, Ms. Pal’s three year old son. I took a couple of hurried pictures, which I promptly forgot up on a camera chip in Bakersfield. The pictures are hurried, because I WAS hurried. There was a horse. And he was about to have a saddle on his back. And my butt was going to be in that saddle.

Who can be bothered with photography in a moment like that?

Willie is, sadly, quite handsome. I say sadly because I’d like to own him, but he’s out of my league. He’s 15.2 and will probably end up 15.3, huge (and not finished filling out yet), beautiful head, kind eye, intelligent, beyond sweet, great feet, and packaged nicely with a stunningly flashy deeply silver red roan coat. He’s the kind of horse that markets easily, goes for good money, and then sells for even more money when he’s a little older, if someone doesn’t keep him for liffe. DARN.

The ride was great – Willie was fresh – quite fresh, actually. I surprised myself by swallowing the butterflies and actually enjoying myself. Immensely.

I got up on an extremely fresh three year old I’ve never ridden before and took him out on trail. We set off in a long trot and worked on headset while Bunnygal rode the unflappable Rocky (her stallion) alongside us.

I feel like I crossed some sort of milestone in my riding. Two or three years ago I would have been miserably nervous, which would have fed Willie’s energy. I would have battled him into a jiggy walk and be scared I would lose control the entire time. Instead, I got on, raised my eyebrows as I felt the loaded bomb of a horse beneath me, and took off at a trot to get rid of some excess nerves. Willie settled right down, and we both had a blast.

The next day we went out to visit MaryJane, who is currently in training. Remember MaryJane, Rocky’s first foal?

Well, she’s not a gawky yearling anymore. It’s amazing to me how much she’s filled out in a year.

She’s in training with a local cutting trainer who says she’s doing well. Very well.

She still has her fancy buckskin roan coloring.

And she’s still sweet.

Really, really, really sweet.

I think the DragonMonkey and I both fell a little bit in love.

I had to separate the two of them when she started licking his head and making his hair stand up on end.

I also got a chance to hang out with some cows. I like cows. Yeah, they’re not the brightest animal on the planet, but I like the way they look at me as if I’m the most fascinating creature to walk the face of the earth.

Whenever I see this:

THIS is really what I see:


(if you have crappy eyes like me, click on the photo to read their thought bubbles)
See? The sky’s even brighter and the field is even yellower when cows are around.
(It has nothing to do with me learning how to use a photo editing service, either.)

Of course, the horse the DragonMonkey and I both really fell in love with on this trip was Ms. Pal.

I mean, how can you not? She’s just so stinking sweet.

Sweet, sweet, sweet. I wish I were better with a camera so I could show how she’d lower her head and close her eyes and just melt into the clumsy little pets that the DragonMonkey kept bestowing on her.

She’s just a total sweetheart.

Ms. Pal’s always kind of taken a backseat in Bunnygal’s herd. After being greenbroke (and poorly at that) as a two year old, she took a hiatus as a pasture ornament and broodmare. She throws her great conformation to every foal, and most importantly, she gives them her incredibly sweet, willing attitude as well. I always enjoyed visiting with her, but there were always flashier horses who captured my eye and attention. Recently, Bunnygal started riding her again. She probably has about twenty or maybe thirty rides on Ms. Pal over the past couple of months.

When we first arrived at Bunnygal’s place I immediately noticed that Ms. Pal was standing tied at the rail with a saddle on her back.

Normally I don’t like getting up on anything less than a well-trained horse. I don’t have any real lessons under my belt aside from the helpful critique’s Bunnygal’s been giving me over the years. Not only does it make me nervous to be up on a greenbroke horse, but it really emphasizes how little I know. I hate that feeling of getting up on a horse and feeling it deaden up and go numb beneath me because I’m not being precise with what I ask.

On the other hand, I’ve been hanging around Ms. Pal for years now, and I was dying to try her out.

I hopped on, and WOW. I’m beginning to realize it may not be the horse, so much as the way Bunnygal trains, but WOW. What a “click”. Even though she probably knew less than any horse I’ve really ridden it didn’t seem to matter. She was light and responsive, steady, and approached everything I asked of her with her customary sweet, willing attitude.

When we trotted I had one of those moments where I felt my center of balance sink deep in the saddle and it felt like nothing could make me fall off.

I love those moments.

Afterwards, we gave her a bath and let The DragonMonkey walk her around until she dried off. Considering it was 100+ degrees and the middle of the day, that didn’t take long.

I will be really sad the day he outgrows the “menial tasks are fun!” phase.

I also learned that roundpens are good for more than working horses.

I want a roundpen in my backyard now.

I can’t really figure out how to end this blogpost, since it wasn’t really anything more than me sharing some photos and blabbering on about how much I like horses. I know, I know, it’s not exactly thrilling stuff. I promise that it’s only a matter of time before I spastically embarrass myself at my work office or say something idiotic in public. When I do, I’ll be sure to share it with all of you. Maybe I’ll even find some old Jr. High photos of myself and we can have a “geek-off” and see who was the nerdiest.

I bet I’ll win.

Meanwhile, I am going to shamelessly plagiarize from Haiku Farms , and since I live down in Southern California and she lives up in in the Northwest (and is therefore too far away to retaliate by throwing something at me) there’s nothing she can do about it, either:

Life. Is. Good. ©