#When I began university I was told there are jobs and they're well paid

[thesolarangel]

It's not my fault, it's the current job market, it's not me, it's the current job market, it's not my portfolio, it's the current job market, I didn't choose the wrong field, it's the current job market, it's not me, it's not me, it's not me, it's not me, it's not me, it's not me

[passionatewayhorsemanshipllc]

IT ALL STARTED WITH A LITTLE CHEESE AND CRACKERS (page 1)

WHERE IT ALL BEGAN

When I thought about sharing my Ritz story, I wondered where the best place to begin would be. That’s when I thought, the most logical place to begin is where I invented my story. See, I had no idea that you can write your future as young as eleven years old, but I did. I created my almost unbelievable story so accurately to what I live today that I can’t help but want to share.

When I was eleven years old I was given the good fortune of the opportunity to get sent to sleep away camp. The camp was several hours from home which was exciting for me. I was not the homesick type of kid, I loved adventure. So what better way to have an adventure than to insert myself into a story that I would tell everyone. Since the camp was so far from home I felt safe from anyone taking the time to fact check me. This story was likely sounding a bit far fetched to any adults I told it to, but it was the story I was sticking with. It was such a solid, not varying much in details, story that I even continued to tell it for many years later.

So, this is where this story begins.

Before I left for sleep away camp, I had dissected a poster board project that, shortly before, had been taken down from the wall where it was displayed. I found it in the classroom trash. It was being thrown away so I decided I wanted the Kodak pictures that were pasted to that poster board. That I assume is when the story originated. The pictures were of horses, several horses and one beautiful bay, that I named Bo. Bo was being shown by a young boy in a Western halter class. That little boy quickly became my younger brother in my story. (I had to explain the boy in my picture) 

Having imagined and believed in my new story, I was ready to give it a test run on other people. What better place than far away from home. I made sure I packed my props to back up the story I would tell at camp. I had all the proof I needed in those pictures, I thought.

So here is the story that I invented when I was just eleven. I hailed from an equestrian home (Not true, I was the only one in my family involved in horses), where I personally owned eight horses (Not true, I owned one, but I had the pictures to prove that I owned eight). I was a prodigy horse kid who trained horses. I offered that the specific training I was “paid” to do was “starting or breaking” horses. (So… that was not exactly true, I WAS the kid that got to ride the green horses that were not yet suitable for any lesson program. So, to me, I believed I was at least instrumental in some level of training) I added the part about “breaking horses”, because I did climb on an unbroke pony when I was ten and “tamed” her. So of course I could tell the part of the story about “breaking horses” with some conviction.

I had my story so rehearsed that no one could set me off balance with questions. I told variations of the pony ride story so to multiply my experiences to more than the one. I also made sure that it was understood that I provided my training services to other people and their young horses. Oh, I was good at telling that story. I went to that camp two years in a row so I was able to keep my story alive. I likely added adventures to tell, like showing accomplishments and what not, but the foundation story was the same. Since not every cabin mate was the same from the year before, I got to tell my story over and over. I loved that story, it was a story that I grew to believe even a little bit myself. 

Now, who knew that story, in all it’s grand details, could come true? The only part of that story that has not yet been realized, is the ownership of eight horses. I own seven! The first of those seven is Ritz. Ritz is the horse who made me who I am today. I am no longer eleven, but I feel almost off the hook for the life long story/lie I told, because I look around me now and say, “WOW how did I write this story so long ago with so much certainty and now stand in the middle of it’s purest reality?”

Connection

Now, jump ahead 20 years…

It had been a few years since I owned or even was able to be around horses. Life happened and horses just didn’t fit in. I missed them with all that I was. It’s weird but the longing I felt is best equated to how addiction is described, I truly longed for their smell, their soft noses, and the energy they have around them. I felt like a piece of me was missing, for sure. Some days were better than others, but I really missed having access to horses. I’d drive extra slow and very tourist-like when I’d see a horse farm. 

I often expressed that feeling of longing for horses to anyone who would listen. It was so bad that I just wanted to be invited to someone’s barn or backyard for the mere opportunity to just pet one’s soft velvety nose. To be honest, I probably had “pet the horsie" opportunities but my pride definitely got in my own way. I thought I was too good to be a giddy girl wanting to PET a horse. As someone who prided themselves on being on a show team and through ribbons and trophies concluded that I was even kind of good at the sport of horses, I never thought I would be satisfied with just getting to pet one again. Plus remember, I had a story I told and it didn’t stop being told at camp. Oh no, it was told to anyone that didn’t know me before and wouldn’t likely meet anyone to discredit it. I had a story to keep alive and I clearly didn’t believe just being excited to pet a horse was very cool.

I worked as a truck driver for a small paving company. Part of our work also included site work, where we would stay on site and move material around for a construction crew. We often would remove material to a nearby dumpsite but for the most part we were stuck on one job site all day, and often for several days, even weeks. This job we were removing dirt or fill from the site to a horse farm. Well that was like pure torture. I was excited to see the horses and the activities of a riding facility, but knowing I was there in a capacity much different from that, it was like torture. Pure torture to not be able to stop and chat with horse people, pet horses or ride. I would go home each day with a stronger longing for horses in my life. I started to feel like I NEEDED them back in my life. The thoughts and dreams of being back in a barn, walking my horse down the aisle, putting him on cross ties and grooming him with each stroke of the brush, pouring untainted love on him. I needed that bond again, that connection that cannot be explained. I felt such a strong absence that it almost hurt. 

It was bad enough that I was being torture by the dump site, but then, to add to it, the location of the job site was terrible for radio reception. I struggled to find something to listen to that didn’t have a lot of static. I would rather sit in silence than listen to crackling in and out radio signals. That is when I stumbled on a Christian station. The music had nice tones and catchy lyrics and wasn’t full of static. It was a station that stayed connected from the job site all the way to the dumps site. I found I liked it enough to set it on my radio as a “preset channel” that way I was not searching for it every day that I would be sent to that job site.

This radio station played all upbeat and uplifting music that did indeed incorporate religious story telling. I myself would never have imagined me listening to a Christian radio station let alone like it. Not only did I like it, I was starting to learn the songs and even singing along. I felt lighter in myself, I felt peaceful and even joyful within days of this station being my primary radio. I also learned the bits, like a daily game segment where callers can participate. I even looked forward to specific segments. One in particular was the “I believe Friday”. That segment was when people would call in and tell the radio DJ about something that they believed God will help them with or through. I found myself planning to be listening at the time that segment would air. It was interesting and there was such faith heard in the hopeful voices. So inspiring, in fact, that I would even say out loud, to tell the universe, what I believed during the playback of all the “I Believe” statements. I guess I kind of pretended to call in myself. I would say, “I believe God will help me find horses back into my life.” I’m pretty sure I stated that same “I Believe” statement three or four Fridays in a row. 

It was not until I started writing this book that I realized how my “I Believe” statement was answered.

I was kind of new to the area I was living in, so I didn’t even know of any barns to try to visit. So, in my need to find something to do with myself, I got involved in the local softball league. It was fun, but it wasn’t the same as spending time with horses. At the end of the softball season, they scramble all the teams in the entire league to form new teams for the All Star game. That All Star game changed my life. I met Dawn. Dawn was the catcher for the team I was on for that game. She was a chatty girl, so it was nearly impossible to not listen in. When I heard her talking about her horse Spirit, I was not only listening, I was trying to figure out how to place myself to get into that conversation. I literally said to myself, “You need to know her.” 

I was not only successful in injecting myself into her conversation, but we became fast friends. I was so excited to accept her offer to go meet Spirit at her barn, I felt like a little kid when they're told they're going to get to go to Disney. I don’t believe many days had gone by, if any, before I was jotting down the directions to Dawn’s barn and gearing up to go. It really was a very exciting time for me.

I was so happy to get to just be around the horses, telling stories, TRUE stories, about adventures and experiences I had had with horses to that point. Then it happened, Dawn offered for me to ride Spirit. I cannot explain to you the feeling of exhilaration, I was truly getting my horse fix that day. I joyfully accepted her offer and hopped on. I rode her like a child on a bike. Nothing was forgotten, not even how sore I knew I’d be the next day! Before the seeming best day of my life was over, I was offered to ride another horse that another lady, Janie, (not her real name) was “training”. 

I got to ride TWO horses that day! I was hooked!!! Horses were available to me again and I was never going to turn back! I knew I met Dawn for a reason, we were definitely meant to meet. And as you read my story, you wouldn't be able to help but to agree! 

My “I Believe” Statement

The trucking job were I dumped material at that farm was an ongoing job. We were there for months. That meant I was listening to that radio station long enough to really know some great songs and really look forward to the parts of the show that I liked a lot. I think I looked forward to Fridays the most because I really enjoyed the “I Believe” segment. Sometimes the statements were sad, with people asking for relief from grief, or help with their troubled teen. There were hopeful people asking for guidance in a job change or the purchase of a new home. It was a segment that seemed personal and exposed. It made my heart feel for the people that called, as if maybe hearing their statement sort of caused the audience, me included, to maybe kind of pray for them. 

One Friday something came over me to call myself…

See, the Saturday before the Friday I called in, Dawn and her boyfriend Mike came over for a barbecue. While we were visiting, Dawn said, “Jimmy (not his real name) just got back from Kentucky and he brought back two babies.” Jimmy was the fellow that ran the barn she kept Spirit at. She had pictures of the new arrivals on her phone so, of course, I quickly got up to hover over her shoulder as she scrolled through her phone to an adorable picture of this tiny chestnut baby. She told me that they decided to call him “Ritz” like the cracker because he was orange. I laughed and she proceeded to show me a picture of Ritz’s mommy, Emily and another baby, a bit older, out of the same stallion. At the time I thought I’d be most drawn to Eddy, the other baby. No matter which one I was drawn to, I was not in a position to own a horse. Even still, something told me I had to go up to her barn and see these babies. Even getting to interact with them would be pretty fun. So, we set it up for me to visit her barn the next morning.

Sunday morning came and I was bright eyed and excited to go see these babies. When I got there I was all giggly inside and as excited as a child the first site of the amusement park in the distance. The adrenaline was intense, so intense that I had to stop myself and take a deep breath. 

The first thing I noticed was the barn “trainer”, Janie, was hand grazing the older baby, Eddy, across the street. I believed her to be kind of hiding him from me, honestly. So out of respect for the bonding time she clearly was attempting to have with Eddy, I left them be and didn’t even try to visit. Of course I was curious to see him, meet him, touch him and smell him, but it just felt like a guarded situation at the time. So off I went towards the barn entrance where I was expecting to find Dawn.

Once I was inside the barn, I saw Dawn and she immediately took me out back to show me the baby they called Ritz. Ritz was two months old and still very much dependent on his mommy Emily. I just watched them in awe. His conformation was as perfect as a two month old foal’s conformation could be. He was not only cute as a button, but promised to grow up pretty well put together. Dawn took me out to the paddock that they were in and I got to visit with Emily and Ritz for the first time. When I asked what Jimmy was planning to do with them, Dawn said, “I think he wants to keep Emily but plans to sell the baby.” 

That is when it happened, my calling to own that baby! I felt such a positive vibration toward owning that baby. I envisioned him being mine in that very instant. It was meant to be, he had to be mine! So now what? What was his price, where was I coming up with the money, where would I keep him, and for how much could I board him there? I started asking all those questions and that’s when Dawn gave me Jimmy’s contact information. I had met him before in previous visits, but had no reason to acquire his contact information. As soon as I got out of the bad area for phone service, I called and discussed my wanting that baby and what it would cost for me to keep him there. I had to keep him there until he was weaned at least. I sure had some things to figure out but I knew I would.

That’s when the “I Believe Friday” came into my experience. I was so needing a sign that this was the right decision, buying a baby horse. The time came when the DJ asked for callers to participate in the “I Believe” segment and without any hesitation I started dialing. 

“Um” I said, quickly trying to form more logical words. “I believe God will guide me in my decision to buy this horse.” The DJ said something about my statement and we hung up. I stayed glued to my radio, volume turned up, just waiting for the playback of all the “I Believe” statements. Then it happened, I heard myself, I heard my prayer statement on the radio.

After work I asked Dawn if I could go up and visit with Ritz. I told her that I was really thinking about buying him, but I needed to see him and see if I could just spend a little time with him to confirm for myself that that was what I should do. She told me that she would not be able to go, but told me where I could find a key. I guess it was ok if I went alone. 

The horses were in for the night, so as soon as I opened the sliding door, there stood Emily and Ritz. I stood at their stall door and just told Ritz that he had to give me a sign. “Little man, I’m up here to make a decision. I want to make you mine, but I need to know you want me to be yours.” I stood there for several minutes just enjoying the mere sight of him as he wandered around his mommy so sure of himself. He would take a little milk break and then pop his head around Emily as if to check and see if I was still there. Then he would wander from the front of her to the back. Then it happened, I got my sign. Ritz wiggled his little head between his mommy’s back legs and her tail. Slowly yet very deliberately, he emerged from the black tail curtain. First his soft little nose with a little white marking, then ever so slowly, his eyes would appear. As soon as we made eye contact he’d pop his head back through the curtain of long black tail and disappear. He did that two or three times… he knew he was a clown even at that age, because what he did next is what made me say in my head “SOLD” as loudly as an auctioneer. The third time Ritz pulled back from the clear game of peekaboo, he stepped two steps out from behind Emily and stuck his top lip up in the air so high. Horse people call that “laughing”. In truth, they usually do that if something smells or tastes funny, but this day I had no problem considering that a form of laughter. He made me laugh and then got this proud of himself look in his eye and that was it for me! He definitely gave me the sign!

Once I KNEW he was going to be mine, I had to figure out a way to buy him. The only thing I could sell, that had any real value, was my car. Problem solved, I decided to sell my Volvo.