Wednesday, 21 March 2012

no h-word? no promises.

Wow, what an interesting perusal when I thumb through the archives of this blog.


I began writing here, more from a professional perspective, with my background as a psychotherapist fueling more motivational and less personal blog posts. As my book progressed, I took a fork in the road and blogged more from an author's perspective. Then, with our move to New Zealand, I couldn't/can't help focusing on all the exciting (self) discoveries. But what can't be ignored is how heavily I've focused on my relationship with my straight off the track, harness racing Standardbred: my RockStar.


Thank you for your patience. Blogging our time together served its purpose of documenting the journey so I would have something to refer back to if I ran into problems training him. For the most part, I think we are safely bonded and growing together. Now, with the impending purchase of a miniature horse to be a paddock mate for Rocky at our new home (where we will be at the end of April), I could go even more h-word crazy in this blog, but I will try to restrain myself somewhat. I can make no promises. I decided a while back that this is my one and only blog and it will change flavors depending on what is going on my life.


The content of this blog only goes skin deep.While a few of my American friends "complain" about how perfect my New Zealand life looks I need to make the point: shit happens. I just don't blog about my deep, dark, personal shit. It wouldn't make me happy; a fairly simple concept, aye?


So until next time . . . But I'll leave you with a photo of our soaking wet future paddock mate for Rocky, yet to be named.  He's five months old, just weaned and comes to just above my knees.  His owner thinks he will peak at about 31 inches. I love that he looks like my first love/horse, Misty.


Ringo.  Five months old.  Just weaned. First day of handling, harness, lead rope, leading.  He was amazing.
(added March 22, 2012)

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