Life Down South

Or, "What I Actually Do On A Daily Basis".

 

It occurred to me recently that I have said very little about what life is like in Arkansas (beyond horses, of course, because everyone know they're more important XD). There may be an effort to compartmentalize things....and then again, there may not. So please bear with me and the scattered offerings of my brain.

Something I'm doing everyday (more or less): I now have a workout partner! For the past two weeks I've been getting up at 5:45 AM, driving to the local library, and joining a lady from church in walking and doing basic exercises. There is a short walking track (maybe 1/4-1/3 of a mile in a full circuit) behind the library with a little pavilion and several benches. For stamina-building it's not ideal, but for walking and bodyweight workouts it's perfect. When it rains (and it's been raining a LOT here) we go to her house and pop in a workout DVD.

If you'll pardon me, I'm going to rant a little bit here re: women's workout DVDs. After doing some more intense weightlifting last year sprinkled with self-driven Crossfit (which I rather miss), nearly every women's workout DVD I've used is PATHETIC. It's all about 'toning' and 'sculpting' and using dinky hand weights, and has little to nothing to do with function. Where in life is picking up a 3-lb weight going to matter? Even a jug of milk weighs more than that.

But I digress.

In connection with feeling that women are getting the short end of the stick with such 'customized' workouts, I just finished a book called Convict Conditioning. The emphasis is on strict bodyweight exercises and starting off SUPER easy while working slowly up to such seemingly impossible moves as, say, a one-armed handstand pushup, while making sure that each move is correct and functional. There is additional emphasis on training the ligaments, tendons, and structural parts of the body rather than concentrating totally on muscles. The idea is that just because someone is ripped, doesn't mean that they're functionally strong.

Anyway. I'm hoping to start incorporating The Big Six (pushups, pullups, squats, leg raises, bridges, and handstand pushups) during the morning walks/workouts. If nothing else it'll give me something to concentrate on workout-wise. I mean, Crossfit is great, but it always seems to have something of a shotgun approach (IMHO).

Another thing I've been doing: getting up earlier. I started a few months ago setting my alarm back a minute a day. Sometimes I skip a few days, sometimes I set it back religiously, but I started at 6:30 AM, with my current wake-up time being 5:40 AM. I consistently wake up 2-3 minutes before the alarm these days. Now I just need to actually get UP and do something productive, like write or draw or read my Bible, instead of nestling in the warm blankets to scroll through Pinterest.

An Average Week: My days look pretty much the same from week to week with slight variations here and there. But a routine is good, right? Right?

*crickets*

Anyway.

Sunday: Go to church, starting at 8:30 for worship practice. (They've got me playing strings on the keyboard. The original idea was to get me on the piano, but I do not feel up to playing a major instrument. So for now I lurk in the background.) Church gets out at noon, and I spend the afternoon (a) riding horses, (b) napping (this doesn't happen very often), (c) making lunches/breakfasts for the week, or (d) working on various projects. Worship practice for evening church services is at 5 PM, with church starting at 6 and finishing a little after 7.

(It's been rare for me to go to a church that has a morning and evening service, and I'm still figuring out whetherI like attending two services.)

Monday-Friday: Up by 6, work by 7:45. Morning workouts thrown in the mix have made showering before work a necessity, and it puts breakfast on a rush. On Thursday mornings I go to the local Kiwanis meetings in an attempt to keep abreast of local events and stuff that may be important for work.

In the evenings, if I'm not riding (or working on my quilt), I go to the animal shelter and take pictures for them to post online. That has averaged out to going at least once every 7-10 days, and it gives me an opportunity to intentionally use my camera.

Plus the animals are just so

dang

cute.

Good grief.

Thursday nights once a month I get together with a quilting group from church. Lest that sound boring beyond comprehension, believe me when I say that it's actually a LOT of fun. (I'm the youngest one there. Next youngest is 36, and then it's a leap to the 60s. It's great.)

Saturday: It depends. I usually spend the mornings cleaning, baking bread (sourdough!), or going to the recycle center. Sometimes all three at the same time. The recycle center here in town is more like a really cheap thrift store--there is the obvious recycle and trash part, yes, but anything that's in decent shape is up for grabs. I bought a Spanish wine bottle for 50 cents (that I converted into an oil lamp), and found a GIANT frame (like 4'x3') for $1.50. One finds the thing they want, brings it into the office, and asks, "How much?" The price usually ranges from cheap to dirt cheap.

In the afternoons I'm usually riding horses, unless there's something else planned. For example: last weekend I went to a quilt show. This weekend I helped my aunt move. Next weekend I'm helping out with a mini derby. The week after....well, you get the idea. Suffice to say, my schedule is pretty tight.

Something I'm reading: Well, I just finished Les Mis for the 7th or 8th time last week. And read Convict Conditioning yesterday, and A Walk Across America last week, and have two books on beekeeping on my plate, plus Horatio Hornblower.

What can I say? I find interest in a wide variety of topics.

Something I'm struggling with: The constant balance between 'busy' activity with 'quality' activity. If someone knows the secret to that, I'd be thrilled to know it.

If you made it through that mess, I congratulate you.

I remain, gentlemen,

The Obsessionist

EB

Otherwise known as, "An Opportunity to Brag on One of My Extremely Creative Friends".

EB (short for Emily Brown) is yet another person who I met in Colorado (one of the first, actually--she helped me shovel wood chips and spoke the entire first in an Irish accent). She is highly creative in several aspects--notably poetry, songwriting, and leatherworking.

She made this, which has been my journal for the past several months (the proceeds went towards my friend Tess, who was fighting spinal cancer at the time--she loves butterflies).

To say that I love this journal would be an understatement of the century.

It was also kind of exciting to find leaves that matched the cover. It made my little artistic mind very happy.

M-bar-M, or M-M, is EB's brand on all of her work. (Speaking of her work, you should check it out if you get a chance. Seriously.)







The following project has something of a story behind it. I had this canvas knapsack that belonged to my grandpa (on my dad's side) during WWII. It had been in a closet for ages, until it was pulled out for use by one of my brothers. They didn't use it much, so I grabbed it and made very good use out of it for about 8 years (from ages 14-22).

By last year it was starting to fall apart--the canvas was double-layered, but holes were starting to tear in the bottom and the straps were beginning to part from the back. It was to the point where I didn't use it at all, for fear that it would fall apart in my hands.

A couple of months ago I had the germ of an idea, and I texted EB to ask her what she thought. My idea was to send her the existing bag, have her use it as a pattern, and reuse the hardware as best she could.

This was the bag before:



(So floppy and sad....)

And this was after.

*screaming internally*

She did an incredible job, and every time I look at it I can't get over the sheer gorgeousness: how it was put together, the fact that she incorporated some of the original canvas (serial numbers ftw!), how much of the original hardward survived the process...I can't get over it.

I use it every day and love it to death. :3

Since getting this back I've handed out almost all the business cards she gave me, and know of at least one person who has ordered something due to my singing her praises. With that said, if you ever want a leather creation of great quality, go to her first. Not only will you be supporting a private entrepreneur, but all of her work is of incomparable quality and custom-designed to last a lifetime.

There's not many things that one can say that about. (And if you ever see M-M in stores, you'll know who makes them!)

Okay, I'm done bragging. For now....

Current Horse Status: Quota Filled

When first moving to Arkansas, I had no access to any horses whatsoever (other than peering mournfully at them while driving past--then remembering to watch the road and trying not to hit anybody). Within two months I was about to go crazy.

 

I know that to be obsessed with horses is something of a stereotype for girls. (Just look at the hugely disproportionate ratio of girls to guys in any equine sport. Except maybe steer wrestling. Or team roping. But I digress.) I also know that it's a terrible thing to be horse-crazed and horse-less. It's like being homesick, or being hungry for a food that you can't find, or missing a friend who lives a thousand miles away.

 

In other words, it's a terrible feeling.

 

Around December, I took it upon myself to fix this quandary, and turned to the first thing that I could think of: Google.

 

(Before you hate on Google: through it I found the ranch, the salon where I chopped my hair off last summer, and it has assisted me in countless measure in the past. But I digress again.)

 

I Googled horse barns in northwest Arkansas, put together a list that seemed likely, and made a few phone calls. For brevity, let's just say that the first place was all right, but too far away. The second place wasn't quite as far, but still a fair distance (especially since I wanted to avoid having to drive much). The lady there, Diane, was super nice--I had called and asked a few questions, and she invited me out on a Saturday to help feed and get the feel of the place.

 

After a couple of hours opening gates and meeting horses and traveling hither and yon on the back of a 4-wheeler, Diane mentioned that one of her students might appreciate having a riding buddy. She gave me the name and the address for where she worked, and the next week I made a little side trip to meet Sabrina.

 

Again, for brevity: I met Sabrina and her husband Danny, we chatted for a while about what I was looking for in a place to ride, and I went out the next day to meet the horses. She and her husband had just gotten a few young horses back from the trainer, and that first evening I rode a colt named Peanut. (He only bucked twice. XD) The next time I rode an older horse, then a younger one, then the older one again...and before I knew it, Sabrina,  Danny, and I were riding horses several times a week. In addition, the second time I was over Sabrina invited me to supper. The third time I was invited to Danny's mother's for supper (she lives on the same property, in a different house). The fourth time, it was assumed that I would join them for supper.

 

Now I'm over there a few times a week and usually end up eating there at least twice a week. It blows my mind to see famous Southern hospitality in action, in addition to their generosity in allowing me to come whenever I want to play with their horses.

 

Speaking of which, it's time to introduce the four-legged characters that I see regularly. (Most of them, anyway.)

 

Socks

 

Socks is 15, mostly quarter horse, and while he's probably had the most training out of all of the horses, he's more reactive and twitchy than the others. By 'reactive' I mean that if I'm using leg pressure to get him to move faster, and thump him harder than he's expecting, he'll dart off to the side rather than just speed up. He also has this thing about zig-zagging, especially when one is trying to slow him down.

 

These quirks aside, he's actually pretty fun to ride. Even though sometimes he's a twerp. XD

Peanut

Peanut is the kind of horse who seems to think he's a dog. He's gregarious, loves people, is tremendously curious about EVERYTHING, and loves to run and play. The first few times I rode him he like to throw in a little buck here and there, with the occasional attempt to bolt, but lately he's calmed down a lot. The only issue now is that he has two levels of activity: "go as fast as possible" or "dead stop and don't move". But we're working on it.

 



Eve (or Sugah)

Then there's Eve. (Or Sugah, depending on how sweet she is that day.) She really is sweet--though extremely lazy. I used to ride her with a lead rope tied around the horn, so I could whack her with the end when her flanks of steel refused to acknowledge my heels pounding her sides. She's started waking up, though, and is usually ridden by Sabrina's friend Carla. Carla is getting older and doesn't want to ride anything that would buck her off or give her trouble...so Eve is perfect for her.

 

Biscuit

This is Sabrina's personal horse. And he has a topline to die for. (Even if he can have a bit of an attitude. XD)

 



Louie

Louie was gorgeous, athletic, and dangerous. (Sounds like a description from a bad romance. O.e) But seriously: they think that the trainer had done something to him, and the result was a horse that couldn't be touched, much less caught, and he had a disconcerting tendency to rear up and strike at anyone who tried to work with him. He would also rush at said person working with him, and kicked the new trainer in the hip after seeming perfectly calm and quiet.

 

Needless to say, Louie is no longer there.

 

(Honestly, though, I felt bad for the poor guy: he'd been put through the wringer, then brought to a strange place, ran in circles with a makeshift lasso halter on his head, made to do things that he wasn't comfortable with, and responded in the only way he knew how. I'm not saying that it was a good way, but I also think that his 'training' could have been handled in a much better way.)

 



Grace

This is one of the blue roan mares on property--they arrived with Louie, and are equally skittish with less violence.

 



Brix

The second blue roan mare. They have nice eyes, but as I said earlier: they're quite skittish and it's difficult to do anything with them.

I didn't get any pictures of the two new geldings either--they're older and untrained, but have awesome, quiet, mature personalities. I can't wait until they get back and we're able to actually do something with them.

And that's the herd so far...the only issue I've run into is the fact that there's so many horses to choose from. Terrible problem, right? But that means that each horse has something specific that needs work. By switching around from day to day or week to week, each issue is never fully addressed because I'm not spending enough time with each one. And then instead of being enjoyable it becomes something of a job because I have goals that aren't being met, and artificial stress is created due to the lack of goal-meeting....sigh.

In other words, I need to get my act together. This seems to be my mantra for life anymore, except for when it comes to work.


Creative Ventures of 2014

Or, "assorted drawings from the past year". They are very few and far in between, to my great disappointment.

 

Let's kick things off with Tom Hiddleston as Henry V!

 

 

I rather like this drawing. A lot.

 

The Tom Hiddleston kick continued with a portrait of the self-same man:

 

 

This is also one of my favorite drawings. I had never drawn quite such a large grin before, or so many teeth. Hence it was an experience. This was finished in Colorado.

 

 

For Christmas I did this for my uncle. He had a cat who was 17 years old named Leo (and this drawing was just in time, because the same cat ended up getting sick and had to be put to sleep a couple of months later. O.o)

 

Along similar lines, but not the same as the drawings, is the big projects of 2015: hand-piecing a quilt. Apparently I can never do anything by halves, because instead of doing something relatively easy I decided to start with a hummingbird pattern.

 

 

This is an antique quilt that my mom has had in her possession for over a decade. In all of my searchings on the internet I haven't found another one like it (unless one was to paper-piece it, and that version just doesn't look as interesting). Apparently every other pattern that looked interesting wasn't fiddly enough.

 

 

This is part of my take on it....at first I was going to attached each row as it was made, but I was having trouble getting my points to line up in a satisfactory manner. Now I'm piecing the rows with the idea of ironing them and then piecing the rows all at once. I think the points will turn out okay once the whole thing is done and quilted...but we'll see.

 

My grandma hand-pieces hexagon quilts, the English flower garden pattern, and has made several over her lifetime. My mom hand-quilts, and usually has one project or another in a frame. I've machine-pieced several projects, but have never quilted or hand-pieced anything before. Considering the familial tendency towards quilts, this gravitation towards an old-fashioned project has seemed very natural.

 

Otherwise, I have either (a) not had time or (b) not made time as far as my art is concerned for the past several months. It's not that I don't want to, or I don't care....but I have a difficult time staying focused on projects. I have two large drawings sitting in a sketchpad waiting to be finished, and tons of ideas...but it's hard to get it all down when one gets home from work and wants to go riding instead, or bathrooms need cleaned, or floors haven't been swept in two weeks, or there's a sinkful of dishes, or lunch hasn't been prepared for the next day, ad infinitum.

 

I think the moral here is that I need to learn to manage my time better. And to start drawing for me again instead of for other people.



Aftermath

Hey guys. So it’s been several months since I’ve blogged here…..again. For now the only excuse I have is that I don’t have internet at all, unless it’s at work or the library. And the library closes, on average, at 4:30. I can sit in the parking lot to use the wifi, but sitting in the car after sitting all day at work isn’t exactly my idea of fun or productive.Instead of whining about lack of time/laziness/whatever, I'm just going to post some blatherings that I wrote back in December before and after I had been asked out by a perfect stranger. Enjoy it in all its unedited glory.

            12/8/14

Endless waiting is nervewracking. (The clock reads 11:20. I can’t leave til 11:45.)

            I’ve had a headache since Friday. Stupid nerves. It doesn’t help that there’s a low-pressure system hanging over the entire region. There is a blank sheet of clouds pressing down—I can feel it in my sinuses, under my eyes and wrapped around to the back of my neck.

            For the past few days I’ve found it difficult to eat, difficult to sleep, difficult to think. Saturday I was distracted with making jelly. Sunday all I wanted to do was cry and sleep. Part of the problem is having not gone outside for days, and part is the weight of stress, of facing something that is FAR outside of my comfort zone.

            In other news, I finished Lord of the Rings yesterday and picked up The Silmarillion for the third or fourth time in 18 months. Each time I read a little farther, until I get overwhelmed with the names and events and have to put it down for a few months. Maybe I will finish it in this attempt. Currently I’m embroiled in the tragedy of Turin Turambar, and read the part where he accidentally kills Beleg and is struck with grief and madness. I was reading over my breakfast, and hated to stop for work (which has been a rarity with The Silmarillion—most of it is so dense that it’s a chore, albeit a pleasant one, to read). And I hated to see Beleg die, after most of that chapter was about him and his labors to bring Turin out of self-imposed exile.

            Insert a great noise of sadness and exasperation.

            12 minutes to go. Words cannot express how terrified I am right now.

            I have it on good account from the pastor at church that this guy is at least decent. The terrible part is that I don’t even remember what he looks like (beyond tall and skinny). Presumably he’ll remember me (for which I’m not sure if I want to be remembered).

            Something that has really struck me lately is how many people (mostly from church) have come up to comment about me or my looks. It’s kind of disconcerting—at the ranch it’s kind of expected, or at least not unusual. But in real life I don’t know what to make of it.

*UPDATE*

            I’m back. And all the terror was ill-spent.

            That is to say: it was nice. And I’m glad that I went, for no other reason than it was good to do something that I wasn’t comfortable with. But he was nice enough, and thankfully called it ‘lunch’ rather than ‘a date’.

            I was waiting for the guy (let’s call him J) to show up, and there was an old man painting a fence nearby. So, to kill time, I introduced myself and picked up a paintbrush. I don’t think he knew what to do, because he stood there for a moment before saying, “Now what’s your name again?”

            Suffice to say, it was amusing. J showed up while I was painting the fence, and seemed a little surprised to see me occupied thus (though I couldn’t really blame him).

            My biggest relief was that as soon as I got there, all my nerves seemed to go away (beyond not being able to eat much—traitorous stomach!). The anticipation was truly worse than reality.

            Two awkward moments arose, but thankfully they were easily brushed off. The little waitress, who knew J, had brought drinks and was going to get menus. When she came back, she said, “Are you two on a date?”

            I said nothing, but laughed a little. J said, “Let’s call it lunch.” (Words cannot describe how relieved I felt at that little statement.)

            She persisted, and said “I hear y’all getting to know each other and it’s just so cute,” before fleeing in a tizzy. I passed a hand over my eyes; when I opened them J looked at me and said, “Small town.”

            Small town indeed. I would have run into the same problem back at home.

            The other awkward moment was when a kid in high school came up to me and said, “You’re the Earring Girl, aren’t you?” before making some small talk.

            (Story-time: I had made some origami crane earrings on a whim a couple of weeks ago. I had made a quick run to Walmart the day after making them, and in that time this kid saw my earrings, told his mom, and she bought them from me for $20. Made. My. Day.)

            I guess the overall feeling from the entire outing was one of “all right, I can do this.” Given time and association, I probably could become attracted (and would, given my tendency to latch onto people who give me attention O.e). At this point in time, I’m not looking for a relationship and I have several orange to red flags that are concerning.

1.      He’s a nice guy, yes. BUT he’s also newly divorced (officially for about a month (!), separated since August) (the biggest red flag at the moment).
2.  The only thing that we seemed to have a mutual interest in was hiking. (He’s more what I would label the typical product of public school and college—not in a bad way, but interest-wise)
3. My gut feeling is one of hesitation, and I’m just…not…sure.    

            There were a few hints of “maybe I could show you around” and “it’d be fun to go hike sometime and talk to you again”. I agreed to nothing as of yet. He mentioned something about how hard it is to find someone to do things with around here, and I agree completely. But my experience with men has been that they have a difficult time remaining ‘friends’. That’s not necessarily a bad thing: men and women are magnets, and if they get close enough they’re going to stick together. That’s the way we’re designed. But I know that if I don’t lay down a boundary, the chances increase that he’ll eventually want exclusivity.

            I am a little torn, because yes, it would be awesome to have someone to hike with. Yes, it’d be nice to have a local to show me around. But I have a feeling that it’ll have to be a girl, or no one, because leading this guy on (intentionally or no) can only end in messiness.

********************************

As a follow-up to that little excursion: I never heard from the guy again. *insert great feeling of relief* The indecision was VERY short-lived and after a day or so I was going "please don't call me please don't call me please don't call me". (And it's times like these that I look back on my blatherings and cringe a tiny bit.) Thankfully there have been no other prospects or interest shown from or towards anyone. The result has been a series of wild oscillations from "yay, it's great to be single!" to "FOREVER ALONE".

I also finished The Silmarillion shortly afterwards. For the first time EVER. *cheers* And in January I started my giant project of hand-piecing a quilt. If I can get pictures, some will be posted eventually.

For now, consider this a tiny little update into a facet of life in Arkansas.