9:42 AM: Sitting at Panera after having devoured a blueberry bagel, listening to the young French family next to us. Un, deux, trois. I've already had an anxiety attack (loose dog) and had to reapply my makeup.

11:11 AM: We are home owners. Note to parents: don't bring your kids to legal proceedings.

12:48 PM: Just had lunch and cupcakes sitting on the carpeted floor of our house. Husband carried me over the threshold and only grunted once.

4:04 PM: Currently sitting in front of our fake electric fireplace, as it lights and crackles but offers no warmth. We have loaded and unloaded a fifteen foot truck. Four school kids have crossed our lawn and I only fussed at one (Get off my lawwwwwn!).

7:09 PM: Exhausted. Drinking beer and eating nachos. Still have to clean the turtle tank and go to Home Depot in preparation for tomorrow's work day. Still amazed that my husband knew so little about this house and trusted me.

11:07 PM: Finally in bed. Spent $455 at Home Depot (thanks, Dad!) on paint (9 cans) and painting supplies. Chicken wire. Step stool. Poop can. Getting up early to start the painting madness (also with the intention of leaving stuff to paint for the MIL).

I forgot to mention this, but Archie's $40 HorseLoverz blanket came in.

I was immediately smitten.

Looking sharp!

I didn't even realize that it had this fancy system.

Okay, so it's a little big.  Covers that butt!

The only non-cool thing:  leg straps aren't removeable.

When I took it to the barn last night, also with the plan to ride, BO made a funny:  "Oh, good.  I call his other blanket his Speedo."  Which is 800 times on point because Arch would be the type of dude to sport a banana hammock.

Since Skinny Guy was already munching on hay by the time I mounted, I decided that it would be a short and sweet ride.  That.. and the 25 mph wind gusts.  Yeah.  I had a simple goal:  keep him occupied.  It was a couple laps of walking, a couple of trotting, and a simple scary canter.  I had to ask twice for the right lead, but at no point did he explode.  When we were done, I hustled to cool him off so he could eat his dinner.

He was a good boy.  :)

---

Soooooo.  As if y'all don't already know everything about this topic already, we close tomorrow.  By 11:00 AM EST (approximately), we will be homeowners.  The plan is to:

• Meet the lawyers and sign the documents, while giving over a giant multiple-zeros check.
• Pick up cupcakes.  (We've purposely held off for this occasion.  It's been three months!)
• Pick up lunch.
• Go to OUR HOUSE and have a stinkin' picnic.  (Note:  this will be D's SECOND time in the house!  Ever!)  (Oh YEAH!  I also demanded to be carried across the threshold!)
• Go rent a truck.  Start moving boxes and small furniture into the garage.
• Return truck.  
• Go to Home Depot and purchase all the things we've already picked out (ladder, some paint colors, painting stuff, the dog door, a hydraulic arm for the screen door, a dog poop trash can, etc).
• He'll go to work the next day.  I'll go over to the new house and immediately start painting the master bedroom, the master closets and master bath.  (And maybe sneak in some pony time.)
• Friday, he still goes to work.  His parents are coming up to help out.  His mom will help paint the kitchen and his father is going to do (and re-do) some miscellaneous things that neither of us is competent enough for.
• Move the rest of the furniture on Sunday.
• Live happily ever after.

I got two rides in this weekend and I'm not sure what this week is going to look like.  I've got secret hopes of skirting off and riding one of the three days that I'll be off work, but no guarantees.  I feel the hubs might be working me to death.

On Friday, it was an easy walk/trot before it started raining.  And then it continued to rain until Sunday morning.

I'm actually wearing a polo.  Be impressed.

But I was able to get on him Sunday afternoon, since soccer was cancelled from the fields being waterlogged, and we worked.  It was incredibly muggy from the rain and sudden heat.  Two warm up walking laps, three trot, one walk to cool down a little, three more trot with downward transitions (fifteen strides trotting, ten strides walking).  Rinse, reverse, repeat.  We had one little moment where he started kicking out while tracking right.  I pushed him forward and when he got back in the rhythm, I praised him.  I find myself saying, "Good boy, good decision making." a lot.  Like I can tell that moment where he's considering being a giant ass, decides it isn't worth it, and keeps going and I feel like I should acknowledge that moment.

After the ride, I put a few braids in his mane (to train it!) and hosed him off, before reapplying his fly boots and giving him his beet pulp.  I guess I can justify a little bareback ride or something when I'm supposed to be going over to give him his beet pulp.  Also can figure out the actual time between new house and barn.  Woo.
We ended up taking Savannah to the vet on Saturday.  D texted me on Friday while I was tacking up Archie that Sav'h had exploded.  I called the "new vet", who we wanted to switch to anyways, since it's practically in our new neighborhood.  They had an opening and I took it and then I found myself apologizing for letting the sickness go on for so long.  :(  At the appointment, we addressed a whole lot more than just the diarrhea.  I was impressed.  I'd had her history faxed over, so she could see where we'd been treating a chronic UTI and how, previously, being on the antibiotics had stripped her gut of good bacteria, which is why I'd restarted her on the probiotics on Monday.  She also brought up that Savannah is technically obese (I think she looks great, dammit!) and how this could be related to the UTIs.  Fat dogs don't express their bladders completely.  I opted to go ahead and retest her urine (so I wouldn't have to pay for another office visit later). Both her fecal and her urine were clean, with a tiny, tiny bit of bacteria in the smear and a pH of 8 for her urine.  I'd said that she'd responded to metronidazole very well in the past and the vet confirmed that she was going to dispense that.  Then we talked about food.

A lot of people hold to the idea that dogs are carnivores and should only eat as much meat and meat by-product as possible.  And if that works for your dog, awesome.  My dogs are omnivores.  When we're outside, they sometimes like to graze.  I let them.  In veterinary journals, the grazing of dogs has not been scientifically linked to any one thing:  it's not a nutrient deficiency and it doesn't mean that they are going to hurl.  Sometimes, your dog just wants to munch on some fresh grass.

So the food we went with is actually a prescription diet generally given to diabetic dogs (Science Diet w/d).  Savannah loves it.  I'm feeding her the amount directed for her to lose 15% of her body weight.  Here's hoping!

I gave poop.  And pee.

That "house brain" that I was talking about last week?  Where I can't finish thoughts or sentences because I'm too busy thinking about Arctic White versus Blue Cloud?  Yeah.  It's gotten worse.  I expect on Tuesday, the day before we close, I'll be a blubbering mass of ratios, sheens, and trying to figure out where I'm going to put the turtles' tank.  In the move from Augusta to Savannah, they were stuck in a small half gallon aquarium that rode on the front seat.  Horse stuff was on the back seat and the girls rode in the hatch. I expect all of this to be repeated to some degree.

I haven't ridden since Monday, but I have worked out twice.  I haven't run, either.  See, it's all that House Brain.  I'm too busy focusing on schematics.  Oh!  And did I mention that the damn apartment has termites?  Like, serious termites.  The baseboard on the downstairs bathroom has holes everywhere.  I alerted the landlord, the same dude who took almost two weeks to fix my oven, and he sent someone to spray the outside.  D said that, afterwards, there were swarms of dying insects all over the front yard.  But he never addressed the inside.  I sent texts.  He forgot.  Then he said that he would prefer that I wrote him a note and put it in the drop box at the office (even though, in two and a half years, he's never mentioned that being the preferred method over texts).  But whatever.  I wrote him a note on our "goodbye" letter's envelope.  :)

So, between moving, termites, Savannah being sick (last night was the first time all week that she made it through the night without an accident), and the personal drama, I just.. haven't thought about the things that make me happy.  Like photography, running or riding.  But that will change today, dammit!  (The gym time has helped with my stress level ((D went twice yesterday, if that's any indication of his level)), but the anxiety is rolling around at about an 8, perpetually.)

At last week's soccer game, when D took photos of us playing, I stopped on the way to the car and photographed this kid.  He was precious and brave and already had the "I love my owners" look down.

And just a random photo of my man's ever-growing bicep.  SERIOUSLY HOT.  I need to do a comparative analysis post of his amazing transformation.

Yesterday was an odd day.  Savannah was sick (diarrhea, cha cha cha) and D was squirmy to get out of the house.  I was slightly frazzled and restless, after having cut work for two hours to go meet our agent at the new house to measure the master bedroom and check the progress of our conditional repairs.  Those are some motivated sellers!

So instead of sitting around the house and looking at each other, I dragged him to the barn.  He somewhat willingly photographed me and the Kid.  If you're a facebook friend/instagram follower, you've probably already seen these photos.  I'm gonna share my faves, anyways.

I mentioned last week about wanting to see if Archie was as responsive to this new, confident, squeeze, squeeze, squeeze version of me while bareback.  He is.  Even though we just walked around and posed for the camera, he was a rock star.  He listened perfectly and moved off my legs wonderfully and did all the random things I asked him for.

So I took off his bridle.

And we walked in two little circles.  I smiled for the camera, dismounted, and praised the fuck out of my little pony.

Going back in to my history, and my complete inability to make and maintain friendships, I do actually know another equestrian in this city.  I helped her find her current barn, the place with no shade that is considerably closer to the new house.  She's a Western rider and did mostly trails back where she's from.  I nag her about not wearing a helmet when the opportunity arises.  I get that it's a huge Western faux pas to protect your head from gravity.  I get it.  But I think it's fucking retarded.

I was really taken aback when she commented on one of my photos that I'd wear a helmet, but no saddle, bridle or proper shoes and how that confused her.  I farted out some retort but it's been sitting on my mind since then.  It feels like the categories (safety and tack) are completely different.  Like losing tack (and shoes) doesn't inhibit my ability to be safe so long as I am in control of the circumstances.  Would I have taken the bridle off if he were snorting, spooking or crow-hopping?  Fuck no.  I probably wouldn't have gotten on him.  But a calm, sane and completely compliant Archie?  Why not?  It felt like the perfect opportunity to try it (damn you, Stacy Westfall) because Archie was responsive and I had a live human being (who is also a medical professional) watching my every move.

He's so bored.

Cliché heart.

Beka, why aren't your toes turned in?

I look preggo.  I'll probably get grief when that time comes and I'm still riding Mr. Ponykins.

Thank you for removing that vile contraption. Lick, lick, lick.

In a ton of the photos taken of me over fences, I'm biting my lips together.  Like this.

And you will move..

And then move the other way...

I love his expression on this.  I just wish, you know, I looked equally as nice.

This probably won't reach y'all in time (I'm not sure when it ends), but if you're in the market for a cheap blanket, HorseLoverz is having a "flash" St. Patrick's Day sale.  Okay, it ends at midnight, PST.

But I found a giant, waterproof, medium-weight BLUE random-brand blanket for $40.  Shipping was $22.15.  And then I found two codes online for $5 off each.  So, bam, steal my codes and buy something pretty:

Let's go back in time and I'll hit on all the highlights.

Humane Society

Archie

Good mother.  Horrible equestrian.

I should probably clean this.

Guess what's back!  FLIES!

..And ticks.

Running/Fitness/Soccer

Playing offense.  She was much, much better than me.

I will catch you, slender long-legged woman in better shape..

Hou$e

I boxed up about fifteen Trail of Painted Ponies.  I have a ton.

It just dawned on me, but I've been officially blogging for over a year now.  That's a year of my life, forever immortalized on the interwebs (because, you know, it doesn't ever really disappear).  So before I go on, let's look at what brought me here.

After having moved to a strange, horse-less city and craving equine in my life, I started reading the Fugly Blog.  Now, if that link even works for you, I'm not giving any sort of recommendations for any of the posts over the past two years or so.  But!  If you go back, way back, to the original author's posts, it's amazing.  The original author is Cathy and she's incredibly snarky and unbelievably honest.  The truth hurts.

In reading Fugly, Cathy mentioned a few choice riders/trainers that she would actually trust and one of those was Jessica at Canter Mid Atlantic.  Being a blog about retraining fresh OTTBs, I dug in.  If you've ever had any sort of interest in seeing how horses progress with proper training, changing jobs and changing their lifestyles, this is the blog to follow.  Jessica retrains a multitude of horses each year and really gives you details.  You learn the personalities of the horses and you see before and after photos, as they've gone from fugly, muscle-less OTTBs to above-par hunters, three-dayers and pleasure mounts.  I think one or two might be mounts for police or Civil War re-inactors.  In all seriousness, I hope my next horse goes through Jessica's hands.  (If I had the money, I'd ship the Archer to her for some training!)

And from there it gets a little.. harder to follow.  I'm pretty sure I found Team Flying Solo somewhere after the Canter blog.  Even though I have absolutely no finite experience in three-daying (come on, dressage lessons and hunter paces don't really count!), I was drawn to Solo's saga.  I started reading before she increased the red herd and at about the time that Solo was injured.  I even contacted her via email to talk about how Archie had a jacked up back and to commiserate and get tips.  For being a stranger on the internet, she was still incredibly pleasant.  If you read her blog, you'll realize that she's a rider intent on not just improving herself but understanding the fundamentals of why we do what we do and what the impact is on the horse's body and how best to improve all of that.  I also learned about "roaching" from her. :)

At some point after emailing her, I started writing.  If you go back to those original posts, I swore to the pony gods that this would not be a horse blog.  It would be a life blog, but the life of a horseowner.  I think it's a fine line and I sorta think I'm failing, but I do realize that I talk more about my life in general than the other writers that I read.

After finding Solo, I found Sprinkler Bandit. I'm still not sure what sprinklers she bandit-ed, but it's an interesting read.  I think SB teaches us all to remember the reason why we're so involved in horses and that it's important to get back to that base reason:  we love them.  She had a gorgeous mare but the pieces didn't fit, so she changed the puzzle and found a better fit.  Now we get to share in the mad-Cuna-love and watch that relationship develop.  By attempting to participate in one of her challenges (the two-point, which I failed at miserably), I was introduced to more blogs.

One of those blogs was Viva Carlos. I think if you read either of our blogs, you'll realize that the world is a weird and tiny place.  And a serendipitous place.  I moved to my city about two and a half years ago.  At about the three-year anniversary mark (I think?), L. will be moving across the country to my new city, too.  I don't like getting all touchy-feely, but I'm super stoked to have a horsie friend here.  I'm going to shove cupcakes down her face, after I prove to my husband that she isn't actually a serial killer that I met on the internet.

And from L.'s blog, I met a million others.  And I couldn't be happier.  :)

I had planned, honestly, to ride yesterday.  Just a little fifteen minute bareback on the Kid to see if he could get stretchy and responsive with my tubby butt directly on his back.

But at about four o'clock or so, my legs started telling me something else.  Have you ever had that happen?  It's like, yeah, we're all for wrapping around a horse, but, if we had a choice in the matter, we'd rather run today.

And I realized that it's been a disgustingly long time since I've run.

And then I was enthralled with the idea of running, the mental vision of my legs hitting the pavement, the stride, the turnover, the jolt in my joints, the air in my nose (even though I'm a mouth-breathing-runner).  I was consumed by it.

So I didn't ride.

Instead, I laced up my new (FREE) Brooks and hit up my ol' training ground:  Lake Mayer.  There were new signs up and the lake has been taken over by some water plants and I really, really haven't been there in a very long while.  Half a mile in, the calves started screaming.  They screamed for the next mile, telling me that they weren't used to asphalt anymore and why weren't we doing short sprints on a grass field, instead?  I was worried about shin splits, because even if the muscle remembers how to run, it doesn't necessarily have the ability to do it safely (something to keep in consideration when rehabilitating a skilled horse).

I did three (point twelve) miles last night and it was easy.  No pain today.  I feel like I've just taken the little edge off the eagerness of my legs to run.  I foresee more running in my future.

Today, I'm working through lunch and leaving early.  I've got an appointment at the Humane Society to take "group staff photos."  This horrifies me.  1) I'm not used to shooting people.  2) I'm certainly not used to photographing groups.  3)  WHAT IF I FUCK IT UP?!