Author Archives: Exechorseluver

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About Exechorseluver

A writer and horse lover (animal lover) at heart. With a few year's exception, I have mostly worked outside the animal field. I am pretty good at what I do. But at the end of day, I want to be with the horses, cuddle with the dogs and sit quietly as the sun goes down with a cat on my lap. Spending time with my family and especially my grandchildren is number one for me. My little farm gives me a perfect life.

Wait for it.

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No Hurry!

I am constantly in a state of waiting for the next thing.  It is very difficult for me to be in the “now”.  I get up in the morning, hurry through my feeding chores, get dressed, hurry out of the house, hurry down the freeway to work, hurry through projects at work, hurry through lunch, hurry through the afternoon so I can hurry down the freeway, hurry home to feed the animals and hurry to get to bed so I can be sure to get enough sleep so I can hurry through tomorrow.

What kind of life is this?  How many of us are guilty of the same.  We look forward to our upcoming weekend activities and then can’t wait to get home so we can get ready to get back to work (not necessarily because we want to go to work but because we are afraid we will be too tired to do a good job at work).

At some point in my life, I must stop the hurrying.  I must stop the treadmill.  It is not about having a vacation or being well, it is about making better choices about spending time.  Undoubtedly, my best moment of each day is when I sit in the early evening after the horses, dogs and cats are all fed and watered.  Usually, Lauren is off doing young adult with the boyfriend things.  I am alone.  I sit in the plastic chair in front of the barn, in the shade and just watch.  If I truly do it right, I see not only the chores that I have not completed but the lovely pattern the evening sun is making against the barn wall.  I hear my wind chimes moving with their soft melody in the breeze.  I see the cats tumbling and playing in the spring grass.  I pet the cat that has staked out the spot on my lap.  I register the occasional objection of my dogs as they quarrel with one another or guard the fenceline from the advancement of feline intruders.  I see the vehicles passing along the road in front of me.  Many (that I don’t even know) waving at me in the early dusk. Right now, I can smell the jasmine still flowering on the vine.  On other days it will be the hay, just cut in the field that is fresh on my senses.  I am dirty.  I am tired.  I am most at peace.

If I could learn to take this time of contentment and spread it over to my other activities and be more in “the moment” I know I will be a richer person.   If I could just learn to wait for it and enjoy the wait, life would be fuller for me.

I can’t join the Justin Bieber Fan Club

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Jordyn loves Justin Bieber. She is going to be mad at Granny.

Do you remember that my granddaughter Jordyn loves Justin Bieber?  I heard on the radio this morning coming into work that he was launching a new world tour and that he would be coming to Houston.  All I could think about was how amazingly delighted she would be if she got to go to a concert and see Justin. 

On the radio they mentioned that his fan club members would get priority access to his tickets.  I am not out of touch so much that I do not realize that getting tickets for this event will be difficult.

So, I went to the “Bieber Fever” website.  I scanned through the opportunities to join the fan club.  There were monthly, quarterly and annual commitments for sale to his fan club.  Each more expensively priced option promised better access to tickets.  For $100 a year, you would have first access to his tickets, or so they promised.  I wasn’t sure which option I was going to go with but decided to “register” to join his fan club.  First screen asked for name and date of birth.  I decided (this is where it all goes wrong) that I should use Jordyn’s name and birthday so she would get all the crazy and annoying Justin Bieber crap that would no doubt be generated from this membership in Bieberville.  So, I put in Jordyn’s name and her birthday of September 4, 2007 (and the year was an option-no where did it say you must be a certain age to join Justin in his fan club).  But as soon as I pressed enter-big warning signs came up that said I could not register!!  I immediately took out her information and tried it again with my daughter Lauren’s information (she is over 18) and once again I got the big error again.  I shut my computer down and tried again with my name and date of birth.  AGAIN, I could not join the Justin Bieber Fan Club. 

I sent an email to the “contact us” tab on the site.  I explained that I had tried to belong and could not.  I quickly got a message back and it is shown below.

Subject: Justin Bieber Re: Can’t register 

Ticket #6090: Can’t register

 
Your request (#6090) has been deemed solved. To reopen, reply to this email or follow the link below:
http://justinbieber.zendesk.com/tickets/6090Sean, May 23 08:44 (EDT)Pursuant to the current privacy policy, membership registration is not available to you at this time. For further inquiry, you will want to contact (646)367-5441 between 10am-6pm Mon-Fri. Please note that if someone does not answer it simply means that all representatives are assisting other customers. Please leave a brief message stating your name, and call back number. We assure you we will contact you as soon as possible.

 

So, I cannot join the Justin Bieber Fan club.  It concerns me a little that I may be on some “child creeper” list somewhere.  I may have made a huge mistake in trying to be a member of the Justin Bieber.  Just wait until I try to go through customs at some international port and find I have been placed on some government watch list.  Later, I tried to log-in from my home computer that has a different URL address.  Still failed.  No Justin Bieber membership for me in my future.  I guess I will be regulated to trying to find tickets for Jordyn on eBay.  My biggest concern is, given Jordyn’s undying love and devotion to Justin Bieber, what if I have somehow, inadvertently, caused her to be blacklisted from the “Biebs”.  I think Granny may have finally succeeded in doing something that makes Jordyn madder than sending her pony, Snowney away to Devs.  A loss of the Justin Bieber Fan Club could clearly ruin her young life, and I was responsible.  Oh, boy!

Growing

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May 22nd Texas Corn

When you grow up in the Midwest, as I did, corn was a late summer crop.  It was an August thing.  My mom would go to the farm stand, buy fresh corn on the cob, my dad would shuck the corn and I would eat it.  Part of our summer life in the Midwest.

In south Texas, corn is planted early.  The picture above is the corn today-in the middle of May.  It is almost ready to be picked.  It changes the way you think about things.  I grew up with the saying “corn-high as your thigh by the fourth of July”.  Sometimes corn is that high by Easter here.

So, what is all of this about corn?  It is an example of the same thing grown in different ways but just as successfully.  I spent the weekend with two of my daughters (Lauren stayed at home to mind the farm) and all the grandkids. I was reminded how my children remember growing up uniquely.  Amber’s childhood was much different from either of her sisters.  Amber saw a marriage.  It didn’t always work, and certainly there was conflict but there were some good years as well.  Amber is infinitely patient with her children.  She and Ryan will teach their children well, and still each child will grow up to be different. 

Ally and Lauren grew up in a post-divorce single parent home for the most part.  Ally tries to be a better parent than either her father or I ever was for her.  I hope she succeeds and I know she and Luke will always do their best.  Lauren doesn’t really remember her father and I ever together.  She will bring yet another view of parenting when she has children.  And yet all the children will grow.  At different rates, in different climates, in different ways, but hopefully in the end there will be a successful life for all of them. Just as there has been for mine.

Siobhan

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Just a quick note, when I recently wrote about friends, I wrote about my cats Orange and Siobhan being best friends.  Siobhan was hit on the killer highway last Friday.  Orange told her not to cross the highway but she tried and she was too slow. 

Lauren let me know when I was in Denver.  I miss her but not near as much as Orange does.  He seems inconsolable.  I am sure he will team up with another cat but not yet.  Now he just cries to Lauren and I.  I am not any more consoled than he.  I loved my Siobhan cat.  I will miss her sweet face.

Hay

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Across the hay field-bales waiting for pick-up.

One of my mom’s favorite stories to tell about her childhood was about loading the hay into their barn from the hay wagon.  She (for those of you that don’t know her) is a tiny, girly-girl never much more than 110 pounds and has never liked the barn, horses or dirt.  She with her numerous other brothers and sisters would be sent out to help with the hay bales.  Inevitably, her brother Cleo would find a snake in the hay and throw it at her and her sisters. They would scatter, screaming hysterically at the boys and refuse to help move anymore hay. Apparently, it made a big impact on her because she has told the story many times over the years. 

I originally thought hay was somehow magically delivered to the barns where I kept my horses.  Later when I was responsible for my own horse’s feed and hay, I learned I would have to go to the feed store to buy hay.  I have purchased my cars since my days in Florida mindful of if a bale of hay would fit in the hatch or the trunk.  I really couldn’t have picked out a hay field from a field of grass.  And I had never purchased more than a few bales of hay at any given time.  I certainly hadn’t had the means or motive to move a large quantity of hay from a field.

Hay has become a big part of my life. You have horses.  You need hay. The acreage behind my place is in hay and corn.  My first spring in the country, my friend Linda, told me her dad would be cutting and baling hay.  Linda asked if I wanted to buy hay “in the field” from her dad and that it would be cheaper than the cost at the feed store (or in his barn) if I did.  That seemed like a good idea and economical too!  Looking back it was certainly an “ah ha!” moment. 

The first time Lauren and I headed out to the hay field with the truck to pick up our own hay was not a good experience.  As five year veterans of this process, we have learned a lot.  We thought we would take the truck and just throw the hay bales into the back.  First, neither of us (at least in the beginning for Lauren and now for me) were capable physically of throwing a bale of hay much of anywhere.  Together with gloved hands we could slide a bale into the bed of the truck, and then Lauren could climb up and arrange them in stacks.  Again, due to our physical limitations, those stacks weren’t much more than two or maybe three bales high.  If you think you can do better, we get hay from the field probably six or seven times a year, we always need help, you will burn a million calories and you can come show me how high you can stack it.  For us, it was hard work.

But like most of my stories, this one ends with Lauren and me getting better at what we were doing-in this case hay collecting.  We have one person drive and two on the ground with the hay bales on both sides of the truck.  It is a quick process and I am lucky enough to be the one driving most of the time.  We still have to stack in the barn but we have a process for that also.

The interesting offset to this hay thing, is I have become the Hay Broker.  My friends who have their own place close to Houston or manage/own bigger barns are always on the lookout for good, quality hay at a decent price.  Last year with the drought so devastating, getting hay for any price was almost impossible. It got to over $18 a bale at the feed store last year.  Today it is $7 a bale in field behind my house. That’s an incentive to drive to my small town.  The more hay you use (and one barn Lauren and I visited this year uses over 100 bales a month) the more this means.  To me on my budget, it is clear I must go to the field to get my hay.

Usually, how this works is Lauren or I watch the fields behind our house. We speculate on when the hay will be ready.  Roland comes to do the horse’s feet and he gives his opinion.  But not being agricultural specialists, we never are quite sure when it is time to cut.  Cutting also depends on when the tractor is available (it could be used for planting, applying pesticide or some other use).  Not a minor detail is how long the weather will be clear and dry.  You do not want to cut and have it rain.  So, bottom line, we usually have no idea that they are about to cut and bale until we see the tractor head to the field. 

This spurs a frantic and involved process of calling, texting, emailing the hay man or more often his daughter (because I want her to be involved in all the fun I am having) to determine when he be ready to bale so that I can send out a broadcast text to my hay list friends that hay will be available. I tell them the going price and ask for a commitment on the number of bales they will want.  It is like being a power broker! The hay man needs to hire men to load the unsold bales on trailer and return them to his barn if they are not sold.  He needs to know how many are accounted for by “my people”.  Last year with hay so scarce, every bale was sold in the field.  If you said you were getting 100 bales you best be on your way because someone else would buy it out from under you if you didn’t get there fast. 

You wouldn’t think it would be so difficult but until I actually witness a bale of hay hitting the ground you don’t know for sure when it will happen.  It can be too wet, the tractor breaks down, the baler doesn’t work or something else happens.  Now understand for those on the hay list, they must- within the next 24-36 hours, hook up a trailer, find some willing help and make at least a hundred mile round trip drive to come get the hay.  To compound the difficulty of pulling this off, this usually happens during the week (when most of us are at work) and always without notice.

So, Saturday when I was in Denver with my mom and family, Lauren texts me from home that the tractor was in the field cutting hay.  And so, long distance, I got the word out that hay was being baled.  After leaving Amber’s Colorado home at 6 am yesterday morning, I got back toTexas to an afternoon of loading hay.  Our friends come down with the horse trailers and trucks.  We made the trip to the fields and helped each other load up.  I had the whole age thing going and got to do the driving (thank God!).

We put up 135 bales of hay for friends and ourselves.  I was moving the old, leftover hay in my hay stall to make room for the new bales when a snake slithered out from under a bale.  I yelled “Snake! Snake!” a few times but got no reaction from either Lauren or Blake.  I went back to work and thought about my mom.

What I Learned from Nursing Homes

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I wish I could be the person that works at an assisted living place or a nursing home. Due to communication issues (and no memory cells on the behalf of Jim or my mom) they forgot I was coming on Friday and I spent a lot of time waiting and observing at their facility this weekend.
That is good because I learned about the flow of the place and saw first hand how the staff interacted with the patients. I saw the facility in the early morning and late in the day. I talked with a lot people that lived there. I was immersed in a world where I was seemingly the only one without a cane, walker, or oxygen. Not that I can’t use any of those things on any given day with my mobility problems.
I learned that if I worked at an assisted living facility I would be a better person. Why? The staff goes out of their way to be kind, to be considerate of others, and to be cheerful. I need to incorporate all those things into my day. Why don’t we try to do that in the corporate world? Would we not be better off for it?

The person at my work who is cheerful brightens a lot of people’s days. I am more likely to be the grump or the complainer. I am going to take what I learned at Clermont Christian Living and try to apply it to my life. To be kinder, happier and warmer. It shouldn’t be hard but I know it will be. But how much richer I will be if I succeed.

Family Matters

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My mom with her youngest great-granddaughter, Lexi at a recent visit.

My sister died the year my daughter Amber was born (1982).  My father died in 1991 so it has been just my mom and I for quite some time.  Of course, I am lucky to have my girls and their families as well.  But in terms of my original family it is just the two of us.

My mom has been remarried, to the OB-GYN that delivered me, yeah, that’s a little crazy, for over 15 years.  She now lives in an assisted living facility in Denver.  Her husband, Jim, is moving in with his elderly sister. My mom doesn’t really understand why Jim is leaving her. Although moving does make sense from Jim’s perspective as he can stay with his sister and not incur the cost of an apartment.

I am off today to Denver to try to get my mom situated and little more secure.  Ally and Jordyn will go with me for this fast trip.  It will be nice to see Amber, her family and for the cousins to get to see more of one another.  Ally is seriously pregnant so it certainly will be her last trip before baby Kendyll makes her way into the world.

It is so much harder than I thought it would be to have elderly parents.  My parents took care of me, and then we kind of co-existed side by side.  My parents and then my mother were available if I needed them.  But now she needs me.  She has dementia and her eye sight is failing (macular degeneration of the retina).  She gets confused and agitated.  And the lady who would never dream of going out without make-up, lipstick and her hair done, has trouble getting dressed each day.  I miss my mom.  I am sure she misses her old self, too.

This trip will bring some hard decisions about her care.  There will be papers to sign and things to change.  In the midst of all of it, Jim will have his 95th birthday.  If I am lucky I will be doing as well as he does at age 95.  He bought himself a brand new Infinity SVU.  He drives it proudly if not erratically.  He is continuing on with his full life of computers, cameras and cars.  My mom is stuck solidly in a new world that she did not design nor desire.

I don’t know if it is time to bring momma home (my home-not hers) to Texas.  I could see her more and observe her care better.  I don’t think she is ready but how do I know?

I know she is alone in an assisted living facility with no family and no friends.  She is fortunate to have Jim visit her along with some terrific long-term friends/care givers.  But is she lonely and confused?  I think so.  Is moving her away from her husband the right thing to do?  I don’t know.

My mom loves me.  She loves her granddaughters and great-grandchildren.  She doesn’t necessary remember who any of us are by sight. But once we remind her, she gets it.   I hope I can bring some cheer to her this weekend.  And leave her filled with a little of the love I feel for her. 

I pray that God helps me know what to do for her and when.

To Move or not to Move

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Looking across from the road, new drive to the left and “barn” straight ahead.

Moving to our little home in south Texas, was an easy decision at the time.  I was working in that area and commuting from Houston to this little town.  I was paying board for my horses to stay with someone else.  It took awhile to find the right place (or the best of possible choices) but then once decided it moved quickly.

We have been here five years.  Long enough for Lauren to go to high school and start college.  Long enough for me to change jobs and now be commuting back to Houston over 100 miles a day.  It was long enough for a menagerie of four horses, six dogs and million cats to make this little farm home.

Honestly, Lauren and I had no idea what we were doing when we moved here.  They say God protects fools and small children and maybe we qualified on both counts.  We made some good decisions and have certainly made the most of our little place.  When we bought it there was a 1400 square foot house, a 12×10 shed, a dilapidated green house (like one you grow plants in) and almost six acres of farm land with no trees except around the house.  No fences.  No barn.  We did not own even a riding lawn mower.  I pretty sure the farm land only included a crop of Texas gumbo mud.  Sun flowers pop out in the late summer but no edible plants have ever come up.  Certainly, no grass or pasture has ever been established there. Mud is our top product or dirt during the drought years.

We have moved the little shed next to where we built our (run-in shed with stalls) barn to serve as a tackroom.  We built an arena.  We got a million loads of sand.  Of course, the sand delivery thing was not without angst.  The sand was delivered in a semi-tractor trailer.  My land was never as dry as anywhere else.   The driver thought it was dry enough to deliver the sand.  It was not.  The driver sunk the semi in the middle of my pasture up to the axles. He unloaded the sand.  Still it was stuck. The driver called his friends named (seriously) Bouncy and Bubba and he sent his wife off to get a bottle of Crown Royal (apparently that goes as payment for a job well done here in my town). Bouncy showed up with a dually tractor while the other good ol’boys cut down my fence to give him enough room to proceed.  The dually tractor pulled the semi out of the mud and it was all a big adventure.  Next day, I noticed my arena fence had a new 18 foot hole (used for the tractor to run through) and that I could no longer close my arena except by using ropes to tie it off at foot wide intervals. My front fence had the wires snipped but at least they had hastily been repaired.  If you’ve been reading along, you know we recently got a new fence for the arena and front of the property-this little escapade was why it was needed.  Oh, and we got a new sand delivery man too!

My son-in-law and friends installed giant lights so we could ride through the long winter evenings and cooler summer nights.  We bought, built, and created jumps.  We now have a pretty decent riding space.  We have added fencing, gates and barn lights.

We added a second driveway to get the trailer in and out, and the driveway actually has gravel in it now.  There was a time in the early days when I got home from a horse show to a torrential down pour.  Lacking the ability to back the trailer into my narrow driveway, I took off (with Mickey in the trailer) at 50 miles per hour across the pasture thinking if I moved fast enough I could get the trailer turned in a big circle and back to the concrete before I sunk in the mud.  EPIC FAILURE!!   Yeah, those were great times.  My neighbor finally came with his tractor (not Bouncy with the dually tractor-just a neighbor who took pity on me) and pulled the trailer and truck backwards to the driveway.  He didn’t answer my calls for a long time after that.

Although that certainly wasn’t the first or last time we got stuck, we did learn to have a variety of “boys” on call to get us out of whatever our latest disaster was.  Fortunately, Lauren’s boyfriend, Blake has a big truck with four wheel drive, can back a trailer with ease and has gotten us out of some seriously tight spots.  Like the night we went to pick up Feather from a barn in Houston after she had been on a trailer for three days from Florida.  Lauren picked the EZ Tag lane that was too narrow for a truck and Blake saved us again. Just prior to ripping the sides off the truck and trailer (with who knows what damage to the horse), in the middle of the night, Lauren in tears, Blake crawled across the front of the truck to save the day again.  He proceeded to back the truck and trailer down Beltway 8 so we could go in the wider lane.  Great times abound when we trailer horses.

We had the bathroom that was original to the 1950 house remodeled last year (the bath tub drain had eroded away and water drained outside on the ground-one observant friend told me that wasn’t sanitary-really?).  It has a walk-in shower so my disabled body can be clean (a bonus for all that work with me).  We have upgraded the kitchen and appliances after CenterPoint Energy blew up the entire kitchen with some voltage issue.  We have done a lot of work on the grounds, the barn and the house.  We have made it our home.  But perhaps it is time to see what else we could afford that would be closer to work for me.  I am afraid of starting all this work over in a new place where we do not have a network of friends.  I know that as we get closer to Houston, the amount of land we can afford and the house and barn we will be able to live in will be less.  Maybe we need to live in the little green house until times are more secure or Lauren moves on.  When Lauren moves it will be necessary to re-evaluate this home I have created.  With two of us, it is mostly doable and enjoyable.  On my own, I am afraid it would be frightening and overwhelming.  Obvious answer-Lauren stays with me forever.  We will see how that works.

Lauren with Feather in the arena showing off my fine crop of dirt and great lights.

Children’s Activities

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Through the years I have learned that your children’s activities determine your friends.  You may of course have other friends, but no matter if it is hours spent at the barn, the swimming pool or the ball park, friendships are made there and often they endure over time.

When we moved to Florida Amber played soccer and softball.  We were brand new to the community and her dad was willing to help coach.  Immediately, we gained a family.  We are still close with Amber’s best friend from those days, Jenny.  I noticed on Facebook the other day that Jenny, now living in North Carolina, was voted “teacher of the year” (way to go, Jenny!) and not only did members of my family in Texas and Colorado respond but old members of their ball team did as well.  Sports create families.

The Bergs were/are terrific friends and have supported the girls and I through our moves, attended the kid’s weddings and congratulated me on my grandchildren. We have shared joys and great sorrow.  All because we met at a ballpark.  It is that spirit of camaraderie that is fostered by the endless hours thrown together sitting at the games, waiting for the games or traveling to the games.  I am certain that if you do not like someone at the ballpark (pool, barn) you will not like them at your house.  It has been a good test for me.

In Florida, as Amber moved on to college, the rest of us moved on to horses.  Ally met some of her best friends at Wickham Park.  We are still in touch today-14 years later.  I know the whole social media thing helps but we had common loves, common interests and common memories.

Here in Texas, we made our first real friends at the Diamond C Training Center.  We had just gotten Kid and Mickey.  We spent every day there for several years.  The kids grew up with a large surrogate family -it was like having cousins, aunts and uncles.  They learned about competing, sharing and working hard.  Ally had her first job there.  So many of us are still friends today including Anisse, Rachel, Karen, the Herffs, and the Davangs. We still support each either and praise one another’s accomplishments-whatever they are now.

When I had my hip replacement, we needed to move from Diamond C to somewhere I could have daily care for my horses and Lauren could have her trainer available when I was not.  Lauren had been riding with Dianne for a while and we made the move to Whipple Tree Farm.  Ally was less involved by this time-moving on in her life but Lauren and I were more absorbed than ever.  WTF (probably not the best acronym for a barn for children but who knew?) became a second home for Lauren.  Even though we have been gone five years now, her dearest and best friends were/are the girls she grew up with at Whipple Tree.  Lauren’s friends that she made there are too numerous to list, but Megan and Caitlyn are especially close to her.  Recently, I learned that Megan was still giving Lauren relationship advice, from Canada where she has lived for many years now.  They remain close friends.  I would be missing part of the story if I didn’t say that Dianne is one of my truest friends-we have struggled through our mother’s issues, shared our daughter’s issues and sympathized about our horse’s issues.

At Whipple Tree, (from left) Stefani, Cara, Lauren and Megan

Part of it was Dianne’s special summer camps.  Nothing was looked forward to with more anticipation than summer camp-especially overnight camp.  Those times helped bring together friends for life.  Dianne, herself, deserves big kudos for providing the kids with an environment that was safe, fun and mostly, drama free (as much as anything can be with kids).  Even today, the kids come, take their lessons, ride multiple horses, eat lunch, hang out and their parents come get them at the end of the day.  In a world of dangerous predators, it is a simple day in the sun filled with horses and fun.  Lauren and many of the girls have grown up and moved on. But they still support each other and applaud each other’s latest victories.

It is the shared stories.  The -do you remember when the team from Norway used the “F” word in their softball cheer at the junior Olympic game at Cocoa Expo?  No one will forget that one.  Or reminiscing about how many of the girls fell off a fat white pony named Snowboy.  Or the time Secret flipped over the fence when Roland was trying to shoe her? So many great times with a shared love for an activity.

We are truly formed by the friends we make.  I would have never dreamed that I would form a friendship on the ball field that has lasted over 18 years.  Nor that after 12 years in Texas, my closest friends are my barn friends.  It is the shared times, the shared stories, but as I am reminded again today by my friend, Gaylyn, it is about our shared dreams.

And MayFest was our Fest this time

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The loot from the MayFest (plus some serious cash and token gifts)

We had a rough Saturday.  Mickey and Lauren both were getting tired.  Hard to sustain the speed and edge as the jumps got higher and higher.  Still a lot went well. 

Today  we learned that Lauren won Grand Champion for two Divisions.  Total points for the division are calculated over all the days showing and the rider with the highest points is the Grand Champ and second highest points are awarded the Reserve Champion designation.  Over all the years Lauren has shown in the rated shows, once (MayFest last year) she won one Grand Championship.  And once quite some time ago she was Reserve Champion for a show.

So, two Grands!  Wow.  And in her Low Adult Jumper division she was one point (1 freaking point) out of Reserve Champ.

I am very proud of both them. 

 And since it is Mother’s Day, I would also like to mention how lucky I was (am) to have my great Mother!  She doesn’t remember much these days.  I am so saddened to have lost my biggest supporter and advocate.  I must carefully edit my remarks to her so she can understand them and so she doesn’t get scared.  I am so blessed to have had her by my side all these years.  Momma, I love you so!  I miss you so much too!

My daughter Amber is the best little momma herself.  She is always selfless and trying to do more for her kids.  I know how hard it is to work and have young ones. though mine were never so close.

I love you, Ammy and am proud to be your mother.

Ally has been the greatest mom to Jordyn.  I just don’t know how she could have done better.  So soon, she will have baby number two and I know she will be the best mother to Kendyll as well.

I love you, Ally and am proud to be your mom.

Lauren, of course, is a great mom to Mickey, Sneaky and Puppy Girl.

How they all learned this is puzzling.  I know I have not been half the mom to them that they are to their children.  But some how they learned.  I thank God everyday for my wonderful family.

Today, I give thanks for many things!  Happy Mother’s Day to all you, moms.  God Bless you!