Thanks, God

What's a man to do?

The job of a horse trainer doesn't just include ground work, riding and finishing horses. I decided to make myself Warren's shadow and bring my camera along to try to capture a picture journal of his day-to-day life at work. I found out that my husband's job is so versatile it will take a full blog page just to describe it! His days are filled with...

...transporting horses...

...buying hay at the local hay auction...

...fertilizing the pastures...

...buying feed...

...grooming horses...

...helping his wife make ice cream (what a guy!)...

...riding 6-8 hours a day...

...fixing fence...

...being the day's hero when the cows got out...

...and visiting the emergency room after taking a nasty kick to the elbow from a horse!

In Warren's words all he does at his job is: "spend all day with his wife and play with horses." I've debated whether I should try to convince him that all these hours he's putting in are actually hard work. 

Naw, I'm pretty sure I'd be wasting my breath...

Stop & smell the alfalfa

We really are living the dream. Since Warren quit his job in Grand Island and we moved south of Lincoln to a horse facility, much of life--almost all of life--has changed. We have a different schedule, a different apartment, a different income, different neighbors, and a different lifestyle. Warren now works on the same property we live on and I'm often in the barn or arena with him so there's no more wishing I could just talk to him while he's at work. We get to do life--all of it--together now. It's true: we're living the dream.


It's interesting to me that in the midst of living the exact life we've talked about and hoped for since we started dating, it's easy for me to lose sight of the big picture and concentrate on the "if only" parts of our story. If only we owned our own house, this would be our dream...if only we never had to worry about whether we were going to have enough horses in to meet our budget...if only feed cost were lower...


The other day I was walking through the horse barn, where the thick, sweet smell of horse feed permeates the air. I literally stopped and smelled the alfalfa. And then it occurred to me: no matter what we do for a job or where we go, there are always going to be little things that could be less worrisome or a little better or newer or easier. If I concentrate on those things I'll miss the amazing reality that right now, today, this very instant, I am living an abundantly overflowing life that revolves around Warren's and my biggest and most impossible dream of being self-employed in the horse industry.


I'm not waiting for the ideal anymore. The truth is that we're already living it. Is this life perfect? No. Maybe perfect is what heaven's for. We're awful close, though.


In fact, now that I think of it, we're so close to perfect you can breathe in its thick, sweet scent if you'll just stop and smell the alfalfa.