So normally I talk about the farm and animals and goats and dogs and chickens and gardens and cheese and milk and other things that I live day to day.
But today I want to talk about something different.
On Tuesday, I got into an epic 'discussion' on my private Facebook page with an old classmate over the above photo. Not exactly 'over' the photo exactly, but triggered by it; he made a series of comments which basically challenged our rights to the first and second amendments - and then he accused me of being a Yank. And that's when I lost the plot. While I refrained from cussing him out on my actual page, I did remind him that I live South of the Mason-Dixon, thus rendering me a Southerner, not a Yankee. I may also have told him that it was typical of a dumb Brit to not know the difference.
Our discussion continued on private message, and ultimately concluded by me being 'un-friended' for being "one of them". I've never been more proud.
Disappointed that I'd allowed myself to be drawn into a mud wrestle with a pig, I went outside, but I couldn't quite shake the residue of the discussion. You know how talking with some people just leaves your brain foggy and feeling like you need to take an emotional shower?
So I went looking for my happy place. I have many of them, all over the farm, but this one never fails to put me back on an even keel.
See that black and white girl at the back there? That's my Brandy. Brand-ee. She smells better than any pony I ever met. And she loves to be sniffed. So I went and hugged her tight and buried my nose behind her ear and inhaled.
Ahhh. All better now. Just for good measure, I also kissed that soft bit of almost-bare skin right by her nose. Delicious.
Brandy is 28 now, so we don't really ride any more, she's mostly just for hugging. And sniffing.
After I left her and went back to dig in the garden and plant some more tomato seeds, I watched her walk down the pasture towards the pond, sound and swinging free from her shoulder, not a hint of the arthritis that plagues her during the cold weather. She ambled down into the water, standing up to her belly, and splashing with her front legs. As I watched, my cat, Chairman-Meow-of-the-Itty-Bitty-Orange-Kitty-Committee, known as Committee for short, rubbed against my legs and demanded to be picked up. I tucked him against my shoulder and stood looking at my beautiful, old pony taking a bath. I was glad I had taken the time to switch them from the back pasture (no pond) to the front pasture earlier in the week, so they could cool off properly with the weather being in the 80s again. I'd do anything to give Brandy a happy, long retirement.
Suddenly all was right with the world again.
Social Media is a great thing, but it gives emotional vampires a forum and a medium by which to invade our lives and share their toxicity and misery. It gives the screen-brave a place to vent. Fight back - and I don't mean literally. The greatest victory you can have is turning your back on someone else's issues and embracing the things you love. Find your happy place and live in it.