So, I am sitting on the balcony thinking about what might be a good topic for my Monday post, and nothing comes.
Nothing.
This is not writer's block.
It is life block.
Sunday was a lazy day. Jiggs and I slept in late. I went to church.
The rest of the day, I read -- taking a long time to read very little.
And I caught up on the blog. That must have been about four or five hours before I realized the day was gone.
It was a good retirement day. And I have nothing to complain about there.
But, then I saw him. I do not know his name nor do I know the name of his steed, but I could probably see him pass by on my beach every day. He is there; I am not.
Horses and beaches are not an unusual mix. There are tourists who ride horses on the beach here just as they do at Pacific City.
But this fellow is special. He is the real McSanchez.
He lives about three blocks from me. In fact, there are several horses and mules stabled in my little village.
But look at the lariats. The sombrero. The fact that he is one with his ride.
He is the very essence of being in the moment. Some of us strive our entire lives to avoid striving. And here is an example of how it happens naturally.
Every time I see him ride by, I revert to being eight.
When my parents moved the family to the suburbs of Portland, a number of our neighbors had horses. Darrel and I lobbied for a horse for a long time.
Mom made a deal. If we saved up enough money, we could buy a horse. She kept an envelope marked "Horse Money" that we attempted to fill with the sale of vegetables from our garden and other money from chores.
I have no idea how much money we saved, but we never did buy a horse. And our boyish fancies turned to other interests -- as our mother knew we would.
But, each time I see my neighbor ride by, I get to live a little bit of the past while I admire the moment that has been given to me -- simply living here by the sea.
Nothing.
This is not writer's block.
It is life block.
Sunday was a lazy day. Jiggs and I slept in late. I went to church.
The rest of the day, I read -- taking a long time to read very little.
And I caught up on the blog. That must have been about four or five hours before I realized the day was gone.
It was a good retirement day. And I have nothing to complain about there.
But, then I saw him. I do not know his name nor do I know the name of his steed, but I could probably see him pass by on my beach every day. He is there; I am not.
Horses and beaches are not an unusual mix. There are tourists who ride horses on the beach here just as they do at Pacific City.
But this fellow is special. He is the real McSanchez.
He lives about three blocks from me. In fact, there are several horses and mules stabled in my little village.
But look at the lariats. The sombrero. The fact that he is one with his ride.
He is the very essence of being in the moment. Some of us strive our entire lives to avoid striving. And here is an example of how it happens naturally.
Every time I see him ride by, I revert to being eight.
When my parents moved the family to the suburbs of Portland, a number of our neighbors had horses. Darrel and I lobbied for a horse for a long time.
Mom made a deal. If we saved up enough money, we could buy a horse. She kept an envelope marked "Horse Money" that we attempted to fill with the sale of vegetables from our garden and other money from chores.
I have no idea how much money we saved, but we never did buy a horse. And our boyish fancies turned to other interests -- as our mother knew we would.
But, each time I see my neighbor ride by, I get to live a little bit of the past while I admire the moment that has been given to me -- simply living here by the sea.
22 comments:
As any newspaper columnist can tell you, and will, writing something of interest every single day is a terrific, and darn near impossible, challenge.
Should not put yourself in that position, especially when there is utterly no need.
But . . . you pulled it off today.
So what´s the deal with the Escape clutch? Did I miss something?
I know what you mean about reverting back to when you were a kid. Everytime I see a horse I can actaully feel myself back in college. I used to ride up in Spokane Washington until a serious illness took that away but it was some of the best times of my life.
For a brief moment, I thought this was you and a new lifestyle or a new pet.
I like that hombre's hat ;-)
looks like his trusty steed might be a mule?
After moving to Bend I came across the “Horse Money” while sorting thru things. I gave it to Darrel. I think it totaled three or four dollars and change.
Mom
This is my all time blog post!
I am so glad you had nothing to blog about. :-)
Calypso is right. That is a mule. And a nice hat.
And another nice post.
I can understand the times when no subject comes to the front and there you sit... I agree with others in that you are the only one pushing yourself to post something each day.
This should be a "job" that you enjoy doing -- and only do it when it is fun. We will understand. Well, maybe most of us...
(Although, if you try missing a day or so I can't wait to read the comments!!!)
Again, only one of us learned that life lesson our mother was teaching. The whole cost of something is not just the acquisition cost. There is also the cost (time and money) of care, maintenance and a location to keep it. It doesn’t matter if it is a horse, a car or a house. I (of course) didn’t listen and have had horses for 25 years. I justify having horses by saying “I would have to mow the pasture if I didn’t have them”, but I don’t have to feed a mower when I’m not using it.
By the way, I spent the money in the “horse money” envelope ($4.87) on your share of horse maintenance. I hope you’ve enjoyed them.
You know what they say about young teenage girls and horses. At 12 I had a friend with a horse, and I decided I had to have one. For about six weeks it was a daily obsession and I must have driven my parents crazy. Thank God, they prevailed and I remained horseless. It's all I can do to take care of a dog!
My whole life I longed for a horse. I had to wait until I was 34 before I got my first one. The next 10 years were some of the happiest I have ever known. Just to show that not all childhood dreams vanish into thin air.
Steve,
I think you're finally atop the retirement saddle. ;-)
Alee'
Gee, just think if you would have invested all that money from the envelope you would either have had the beachfront house in Mexico or the time to enjoy one....not both!
You need to make everyday like Sunday, then I will know you are really retired.
Felipe -- Some time soon, I intend to cut back. Right now, it is still a joy. As for the transmission, it continues to be shifty -- just as it should. The transmission shop ran some tests -- all came back A-OK. But I am waiting for the other shoe (or gear) to drop. It is merely a matter of time.
Rosas Clan -- We use the term "memory" as if it were not part of who we are. And I am not certain how to get over that.
Richland -- I have not yet denied the accusation.
Calypso -- Thought you would like the hat. Yes, it is a mule. Thus, the subtle references to "ride" and "steed." I needed to work my horse story into the mix somehow.
Mom -- The story comes full circle.
Paul -- Yes. More Sanch Panza than Don Quixote. But there are tales to tell.
Julian -- The moment it becomes a job, I wll hang up the blog. It is simply a convenient release for me.
Darrel -- You, of course, had to get a tribe of women to acquire your horses. Just consider my share of the horse money as the amusement Jiggs once got out of running with them.
1st Mate -- And we know how much care dogs need. Come to think of it, I guess I have my own horse now: Professor Jiggs.
Islandgringo -- And I know how much you enjoyed those horses. You would enjoy walking around here and seeing the number of horses in yards in town. Some of them are gorgeous.
Constantino -- I am getting closer.
Beautiful blog!
Babs -- Thank ya' kindly, ma'am.
We have had a couple of our most memorable adventures atop horses this year. Oh the other time when we almost hit the mule crossing the road - really.
AMM -- The thing on Mexican roads that has caught my attention are dead horses. I can only imane what the vehicles must look like.
MD -- For some reason, I did not get your comment posted until today. Thanks. I really liked walking (riding?) down memory lane.
So, does "McSanchez" regard you as hopeless paparazzi? Or is he too "in the moment" to notice that you are trailing him with a camera and notebook?
LOL...
Kim G
Boston, MA
Where, unfortunately, you can ride around downtown in a horse-drawn carriage in the summer. Wreaks havoc with traffic, never mind the droppings.
P.S. I love horses, but just don't think they belong in central business districts.
Kim -- He seems to enjoy having his photograph taken. Jiggs and I saw him tonight. We walked along with him for a few paces and chatted until el perro found something more interesting to do. Fortunately, we are not at the level of SMA, where he would be swarmed as part of The Local Color. I have a post coming later this week about a similar incident in Melaque last summer. As for the proper place for horses, when you live in a place where the boundary between the street and the beach is simply the size of the holes, horses are not a big issue.
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