So that last post was a little weird, I’ll admit. But dreams have a way of skewing the mind, bending and twisting it into all sorts of odd shapes.
Okay, so that’s a lame excuse. My mind is skewed and not just because of some dream. But still, I do believe that dream made my brain get skewed-er.
The kids have brought all the daffodils into the house and plunked them on my kitchen table. (That is, all the daffodils that were left after the Baby Nickel mowed them down with the clippers one fine spring day.)
They decided that yellow daffodils get boring, so they stuck them in cups with food coloring water.
Some of the stems they split in half so they could get bi-colored flowers.
I had nothing to do with this project. Projects like this make me feel like my fur is getting rubbed in the wrong direction. Projects like this make me want to hiss and spit and give myself a vigorous shake (or clear the table with one mighty swipe of my paw, as the case may be).
But I don’t. My exquisite self-restraint makes me feel very big. (But then today I discovered the children dunking their carrot sticks in the beginning-to-be-putrid, colored water and I think I hissed a little.)
This morning when I was getting all heated up about something—dye-dipped carrots, perhaps?—my oldest daughter quipped, “I smell an angry mama.” That girl is the best quipper.
That same daughter is obsessed with horses. She spends large portions of her day astride the back of the sofa.
Is this love of horses true of all girls everywhere? I know that in Little Women the sisters (or at least Amy) spent much time riding on a saddled tree branch. I remember being slightly smitten with horses, but I think my daughter has far surpassed me.
My other daughter is obsessed about getting her ears pierced.
Do any of you have little girls with pierced ears? If so, I’d appreciate being enlightened on the pros and cons of bejeweling a seven-year-old’s ears.
But back to horses. Ree had a horse photography contest last week. I didn’t enter it, but the contest did inspire me to take some pictures of horses. I’ve decided that I’m going to try to follow her prompts—in other words, take pictures of whatever subject she throws out there—even if I don’t enter them. It provides a way for me to move outside of my normal photography habits. Hopefully, I’ll grow in the process.
I didn’t have to go very far to find a horse to photograph. A horse field butts right up against our property. Only problem was, the horse didn’t feel much like modeling for me. She (I think it’s a she) hung out on the other side of the field and engaged in boring horse-like behavior that centered around eating grass, flicking her tail, and eating more grass.
She did stop drop and roll once.
After awhile of nothing happening, I called my horse-loving daughter to my side, told her I needed that horse to come closer, and then sent her into the horse field to go fetch the horse…somehow.
She did it, my girl did.
The carrot helped.
See the fly on the horse’s nose (on the picture below)? Something tells me there’s a connection between our fly-infested house and this horse. (And our chickens and the neighbor’s steers, etc.)
But that’s okay. It’s all part of the ambiance that comes with country living.
This same time, years previous: my baby’s faces