It’s funny, the things that sneak up on a person. If you were to ask me, I, without much hesitation, would tell you although I miss riding, quite tangibly now the weather has improved so dramatically, I don’t miss the daily slog of barn ownership and management.
The never getting to go away because, well, horses, the lugging hay, mucking stalls, tack cleaning – the list goes on.
And, as I said, if you were to ask me, I would tell you that no, I don’t miss that aspect of my life.
Until this week.
I have been on a one woman mission to cut my lawn – but really cut my lawn.
You know, move and restack the woodpile so that I’m not simply mowing around it kind of mowing.
Hard core, dedicated, lawn maintenance – or as best as I could do it with a little electric mower, anyway.
So, for three evenings this week after work, I found myself at the mercy of my lawn and the mower, I’ve named him Neville, and have now spent a lot of time walking my grass.
And in doing so, as a self-proclaimed “I don’t miss that life at all” kind of gal, found myself studying the horse-worthy composition of my lawn as I mowed it.
Grass type – good, clover and weed ratio – good. Drainage? Only one real low spot to speak of.
Result? This yard would make for above average grazing.
Above average grazing? Really? And then I realized that really, for the first summer in 17, I’m not ordering hay, or preparing to stack it.
I’m not clipping coats for summer, and I’m not organizing a showing schedule.
I’m not looking for bulk shavings, not coaching endlessly, and do not permanently stink of bug repellent.
More importantly, I realized that it’s going to be a huge adjustment, and if I’m honest with myself, there actually is a part of me that misses it.
Not in a cry myself to sleep kind of way, but in a much less tangible way.
I suspect it’s that, for a huge portion of my adult life, I’ve been the girl with the horses, and it’s strange to suddenly not really be that girl any longer.
Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t change a thing. I needed a break from that lifestyle, and given the option, wouldn’t go back.
The choice I made was, without doubt, the right one, but it doesn’t change the fact that as we find ourselves meandering into the summer, I am experiencing it in a remarkably different manner than I have for the bulk of my life.
And now I’ll admit it. I miss it. But only a little bit.