Could Fear Wait Over There, Please?

I took a bunch of kids ice skating today. We also went Monday, and it seemed like Monday was more fun maybe because it was Monday and not today, where everything is fresher and we had to compare it to Monday, the better day.

This time there were six pairs of skates to tie on six different people, and I'm not kidding, a half hour later I finally finished. Leaving only and hour and a half to skate the 50 bucks I spent to get everybody in. There was one kid that should never, EVER have soda because he talks so fast anyway, having him talk while hyped up on soda was like traveling on the Millenium Falcon on hyperdrive. It was kind of amazing to behold.

But I didn't get into this blog to talk about the skating, this is my Maggie blog. I didn't get to ride or work with the Mag today because the kids were home and there wasn't that hole in the day that I could jam a 1400 pound cowhorse into. I did manage to lay on the diving board face down in the sun with Lilly wearing SpongeBob pajamas at like 1 in the afternoon. While Emma was in the treehouse, and Nathan was riding around the neighborhood collecting Christmas trees to bring home and cut up with a chainsaw. (The urban boy's firewood gathering.)

Maggie has been here almost five months, and getting on her everyday, whether I want to or not, just being a robot and doing the same things over and over so it becomes routine, has helped to shape her into a riding horse. She's 80% there. She still has maybe 19% I Want to Do Things My Way in her mind. But she's learning. I ride with about 20% fear. I'm trying to reduce that. I took Hank with us to give her some company, and I spent so much time yelling at the dog who kept wrapping himself around poles and stepping all over his leash, that I forgot to be scared, I was too busy being angry and yelling at him. It was kind of refreshing, to have the immediacy of anger to focus me away from the internal dread of getting bucked off. I might take Hank more often, it made an hilarious circus train of a ride, I'm sure all the people passing in cars on the street were amusing by Cussing Girl with Dog and Pony Trailside Show.

I should maybe designate a recepticle that I could place my fear in as I head out to ride, and retrieve it later, because it sure takes over everything. Maybe I'll put it all in the mailbox. Maybe I can accidentally mail it in with my Netflix and never have to see it again. Until I rent it next week. Dammit.

Aside from Maggie having an itchy neck and butt and scraping all the hair off those places, she's a healthy and fat individual. So far.