Semantics...I'm freakin' over semantics...

Specifically, the word 'facilities'. This word can mean different things to different people. Everything from 'bathroom' to 'shelter'. Right now, for me, it means a knot in my gut and a pissed off and mighty puzzeled kitten.

See, another meaning for that word is 'horse barn'. As in show barn with guys in ties feather dusting the stalls. And, yes, I've actually worked at a place like that. Seabrook Farms over in Jersey. Mannington Twp. Really, really rich guy with Lippazons. (Those white horses that spend about half their time leaping around on their hind feet.) That's the kinda place someone is usually talking about when they use the word 'facilities' in conjunction with horses. Perfectly maintained, swept out every 47 seconds, no poop allowed to be anywhere for more than a nano-second, 20 large box stalls or so, indoor arena, shower stall or even a swimming pool for the horses...that kinda high-falutin' shit.
Now, a horse barn...that's a different kinda place. Horse barns are great. They're smaller, less perfectly clean, contain massive amounts of cobwebs, lotsa dust, a coupla useable stalls, have hay everywhere and a radio playing rock-n-roll 24/7. There are cats wandering around, mice for the cats to play with, a dog sleeping in the straw in the corner...there could even be a horse turd or two older than you are somewhere. If ya look...and who would?
The kind of people who are used to 'facilities', that's who.

I need to shit a 'facility' somehow by 3:30pm. Today. God.

On Monday morning at around 3:00am, I was reading the Sunday paper and happened to notice the 'Pet' ads. I scanned 'em, even though the last thing I really need is another dog, cat, rabbit, rat, goat...you get the idea. So, what do I find?

The one thing I do really want. A free horse.

There's a Quarter Horse in there, needing 'a good home' with no price given. Hmmm. I contained myself enough to wait to email the guy until about 5:30 or so (in the morning...). He emailed me back before noon. Wanted to know where I live, told me it's his daughters horse and she gets final say and that they're giving him up because his leg gives him problems after show jumping. Okay...I can handle all that. I emailed him back, told him where I am, let him know I've been around horses forever-race and riding-so I'm familiar with leg problems, told him about Gia (my blind old lady Appaloosa that I have for no other reason except to have her) and stuff like that.
His wife called my cell today and left a message containing the word 'facilities'. As in "If possible, my daughter and I would like to stop by tomorrow about 3:30pm to see your facilities." My first thought was "God, I hope she means the bathroom."

I'm shittin' bricks now. Even after I called them back and spoke to the daughter. She sounds cool and laughed when I told her 'facilities' was freakin' me out. She said "Oh, don't worry about that. It's fine." I think I squeezed something in there about "please look harder at my animals and the condition they're in instead of Bill's barns". I also explained (a bit) in the second email that we aren't rich, but we love and take good care of our animals. I think it may have been the first email that I mentioned why this is so important to me. Which is Eric.

I owe this guy BIG. He says I don't, but he's fulla shit. He not only got Gia for me, he also proved to me that I still exist for a reason and substantiated what my heart knew and no one else believed. All those 70's love songs are true. What they portray does exist (Acidman-which is why I keep saying 'Don't give up yet...'). Eric proves it once a day, every day, all day long. I want to do something really special for him. I toyed with several ideas. One I know, no matter how tempting it is sometimes, is a bad idea and illegal. Plus, I'm not 'connected'...if ya catch my drift. Then, I have this other idea that I'm not giving up on til I make it happen which is to somehow get him a decent lawyer. The coolest idea so far, is getting him this horse.
The horse has a leg problem, yes. But their vet said he'll be okay to ride, not to show jump, in a little while. If all we can do is ride him bareback around here, wonderful. That's all we want. I don't show anymore and Eric doesn't rodeo. But, we both miss it. And horses. Just being able to climb on board and canter off across a field, wind in your hair, sun on your face and the feel of such a powerful entity fused to you body and soul. My God. I don't know who said it, but whoever they were they were dead-on right..."There ain't nuthin' wrong with the inside of a person that the outside of a horse can't fix."
I want to give that to Eric.
That freedom. That exhileration. That rejuvenation after a day of stress around here.
Granted, that's not the only thing I want to get for him, but it is one hell of a start.

IF this place passes inspection. And, if I haven't mentioned it before (I have), this place is barely workable for the cows. It's not completely hopeless, though. First of all, there are places around here where there can be some really nice horse areas and secondly-I'll be doing it. Not Bill.
I just hope they see it that way. I have this numbing feeling I'm gonna wind up in tears trying to explain the 'Eric' part. Maybe because my throat is tightened up to the diameter of a pencil, right now. Just writing about it is hard enough to do dry eyed. I can just see verbalizing it. To strangers. That I don't want thinkin' I'm goofy. People that I need to favorably impress. You know that old "the harder ya try, the more ya screw it up" thing? Well, Hello, I've been the poster chick for that since 1963. Every freakin' year. I'll be relieved and surprised if I manage to not say 'fuck' in front of them. Merciful GOD,I'm scared. If I mess this up, it'll be sooo much worse than anything I've ever blown for myself. I have GOT to pull this off. Got to. For Eric. Which is probably why I feel like I'm gonna be arguing in front of the Supreme Court, or something.

Pressure. I feel like I could give Freddy Mercury a whole new idea about pressure right now.

And, not helping myself one damn bit, I just took two horse pills of Ephedra. I need to get the house cleaned back up. Won't be too hard. Not after last weekend. But, at first light, I also have to go do something with a barn or two around here. I'll be taking more Ephedra before then. Oh, and I'm still drinking coffee from when I got up. I'm currently out of iced tea, so I don't see an end to the coffee anytime soon.

I'm so tightly wound right now I make that cat in the cartoons with the 'sneak-up-behind-him-and-bark-in-his-ear-thus-causing-said-cat-to-cling-to-the-ceiling-with-his-claws-puppy' look like Bugs Bunny on ether. You know, as in veeeerrry relaxed? Oozing down stairs n shit. Yup. That's that cat compared to me.

I guess I ought to go breathe or something and get started. Before I sit here and have a stroke. Or something.

Oh...and the pissed off, puzzeled kitten? See the previous post. He was thrilled, let me tell ya.

I have GOT to relax.

Posted by: Stevie at 03:06 AM

Comments

Posted by: Stevie at September 25, 2003 03:21 AM (Chbec)

Posted by: Pixy Misa at September 26, 2003 04:57 AM (jtW2s)

Processing 0.0, elapsed 0.0057 seconds.
18 queries taking 0.0041 seconds, 10 records returned.
Page size 10 kb.
Powered by Minx 0.8 beta.