I don't know about you, but I'm mighty tired with this Energy.
I'm always muddy, soaking wet, my make up's running (if I even have any on), I haven't had a shower or all of the above.
However, we're on the straight home now, so all you and I need is a bit of a backbone and some, Fuck you's.
But out of all the confused emails, miscommunication, everything taking ten times longer than it should do, people taking offense at the slightest thing and everything breaking down, there have been some light moments, like today.
So I was getting something delivered, and it was great, turned up within the hour.
Counted it after the guy had left and I was two short.
Gave them a call.
No problem, will sort it within a couple of hours.
Which they did.
The guy turned up, was really apologetic, and was like, Hey, we're really sorry...wait...what the fuck is that?
That's the product you delivered...
That's not the fucking product you ordered! Then he laughed.
I was like, Is it going to work?
Will it cost me more?
Will I get any money back?
We're all good then.
As he left though he was like, I was really worried that I was the one that had mucked up your order, but I didn't. I don't make mistakes like that.
But that's what this Retrograde has been like for me. All bloody month, possibly 6 weeks. I can't remember now and honestly, I don't really care.
What I will say though is that as you are reading this right now, (not as I'm writing this - that's 6 days beforehand) this fucked up Retrograde Energy has finished.
And I wasn't happy with the mud. I don't like my babes standing in mud to feed. It's just a thing I've got.
So Plan A: Put down wood shavings.
That sort of worked but I wasn't sold, so phoned my sand place. They wanted me to buy by the trailer load, but I was like, Hell, no!
Mainly because I had to hoof it up three steps then 90 metres, possibly 120, to where I wanted it to go.
So I got it by the bag.
12 of them, at 5 kgs each.
And the lovely guys who delivered, actually took every bag physically to the fence.
So I put the sand on top of the shavings and it has given us a way bettter result.
Only time will tell if it a long term solution, whether I need more bags, or whether it doesn't work at all, but you know, that wasn't bad for Plan A plus 1.
You know I might not always get it right for my horses, but you know what, they appreciate my effort.
They're like, She tries really hard for us...
And I promise you, they try really hard for me back.
And not my breakfast, but a friend turned up and I sent her home with some home-loving. This is her and her partners breakfast with our home eggs, scrambled with our home made cashew lemon-and-garlic creme cheese and toast with our cashew creme cheese instead of butter and...
Freshly baked Anzac biscuits
...with home made Nutella - Do not judge me.
And on another note:
Belle was hanging round after everyone had finished their last dinner and was like, I'm still hungry...
So I told her to wait there while I got more food for her.
Well, I came back and she was down the bottom, one paddock over. So I called her name, short and sweet (trust me, sounds, volume and timbre of your voice is also a language in itself) then held up the bucket.
I swear, hand on hoof, she looked up, and trotted on tip toes up to the feed basket (so no-one else heard her and came to investigate what she was doing) and ate her extra dinner.
Not one sound was made.
Man, I love her. She is so damn intelligent and onto it, she's an absolute joy.
Although as a side note: When her and Boo-ba-lious were on hind quarters tapping hooves today I was like, Please stop that, you're terrifying me...
Actually, I'm really interested to see how this all pans out.
Boo-ba-licious has only two speeds - stop and terrifying.
Belle on the other hand is all cruizy like, but can put on the speed and has street smarts. She's got her shite together.
So mentally she can win.
Now all we're really waiting for is to see whether her Daddy has come up with the goods.
Attempt number 3 - because in theory the woodchips and sand worked really well.
I just needed it to go further back, so all 4 hooves were out of the worst of the mud.
I think I did pretty damn well...
32 bags this time and it is actually 200 metres from the 3 steps.
And a most unpleasant, but ultimately rewarding day...
Boo-ba-licious and Belle next paddock over, calm as, as Mumma and Cappy were being farrier-ed.
5 minutes later when there was thunder and lightning and hail!
As you can see in the background, Boo-ba-licious and Belle were super fine.
No one was stressing out or feeling overwhelmed.
20 minutes after that, Mumma and Cappy all farrier-ed and the sun is shining again.
This is what the gateway into the Welcome Paddock looked like today after all these storms over the last few days, and then the hailstorm today.
So after farrier-ing I rang my sand place and they dropped round sand within the hour...
The babies after the first thunder, lightning and hail storm.
When the sun came out.
A bit soggy here.
And what we finished with today..
I, absolutely, did not enjoy the farrier-ing part in the thunder and lightning and hail, but the horses didn't freak out and we got a really great end result.
I am pretty damn proud of myself and what we all accomplished today.
It was a real win.
And Belle is so damn clever.
I tell her to stand there and wait, I'll bring back food.
She never moves a hoof.
The young one on the other hand, Ooooohhhhh...what's that over there....
And funniest thing in the Universe, if my chickies are hungry at dinner time, I'll be out, sorting the feeds and the next minute I'll turn around and there are all the chickies standing behind me, We're hungry...
And, You are not a house chicken, Pat...
So that's been our week:
I may not have got everything right immediately this week, however, I am getting things right once I go back and do it again.
Or maybe once more after than.
And I've learnt things this last six weeks, maybe even closer to 10 weeks, that maybe I didn't fully realize before, and I certainly never acknowledged like, sometimes I really, really do not want to know what someone thinks about me because:
a) Unless it directly impacts me, my son, my home or my horses, which it normally doesn't, I don't care;
b) If I don't physically know, I don't have to deal with your messed up headspace;
c) I literally give no fucks.
That if you haven't sat down and had a conversation with me, had a drink with me, sat in my home or otherwise had any direct sustained contact longer than 30 minutes with me, then it is just you being judgey on who you think I am, how you think I live, and the work that you believe I do.
It has absolutely no basis in reality.
Which has continued on to...
I'm also not here to save you.
If there has been a repeat theme in the last 10 weeks, it has been this:
There is not enough money in this world that you can pay me, while you just sit back waiting for me to fix your life.
This is your life, make your own choices, be your own hero. Save your own damn self.
Or at least care enough about wanting to at least try.
I also found that all the boundaries that I have been working so hard on for so long, finally paid off. I can bake again and can have people back in my home, and have it be an enjoyable experience, not an emotional dumping ground.
That line between work and social has taken me fucking years and honestly, most probably I worked the hardest in the last 3 on this. Not hard financially, or because of this stupid virus, but I really didn't know how other people who weren't Readers lived.
How do you have a conversation without being a Reader? And the quick answer is, you can't.
However, in my personal life I don't have to listen to you while you consistently choose not to fix things, nor do I have to fix things for you.
Readers lives are colourful and vibrant and big and messy. We don't colour within the squares.
And that's not for everyone.
So that has been a really challenging journey because, if I'm really being honest here, I literally don't understand why everyone else doesn't want to colour outside the squares, too.
Life is so much better when you do.
But aside from that, I realize that I am, have always been, and will always be, a Reader - and being a Reader will always bring mountains and valleys, the depths of the oceans, the wind whispering it's secrets, the sun caressing your face and the moon dripping diamonds.
But I love being a Reader, as much as I love being Liam's Mum, communicating with Spirit, talking with horses and playing with Magick.
Those are all me. All woven into my DNA.
And to separate one is to make me less.
And I don't wish to be less.
But if I have wobbled, and over this last challenging month I have at times, I always remember Nana with her, Now is not then.
Big kissy hugs
Caps, me, Spirit, Az, Ralph, Chew, Suz, and of course, my beautiful Mumma Bear, Belle and Boo-ba-licious, Pat, Chuck, Rose, Pepper, Lily, Shelley, Marmite, Geraldine, Milli, Bessie, Raz, Sugar, Butter, Cookie and Cinammon, and the cows, Mickey, Mikey and Moose.
* There was a miscommunication, and my name never got put forward for the committee.
But wait...The National Executive Meeting was deferred until this coming weekend.
Taking bets now as to whether my chances have exponentially improved to: Slightly better than fuck all.
** And the most awesome lifestyle apart from yours truly, goes to our NZ friend in Cyprus working at the Wildlife Research Institute, their pathos being: Rescue, Rehabilitate and Release.
*** Was video chatting to my son this morning who went to the Pride Parade with his girlfriend this weekend, over in Washington DC, and they had New Zealanders walking in the parade.
We are both super proud that New Zealanders are so open and welcoming to all the different sexualities and are making a stand.
I'm so unbelievably proud of the kind of human my son is.
**** I have that crazy nesting thing going on again, you've got two weeks, possibly three, before changes you wish weren't, are coming.
Stock up now. Don't leave it.