Update on: Miss Bobbie Socks after she left me….

Well here I thought my blogs were just stupid rants and raves about my little life....

I wrote a story about my horse Giselle (Miss Bobbie Socks) that I had re-homed. At the time I could barely write the story due the excessive crying while typing... it was not an easy story for me to write about.

Yet, the story worked it's way to Google, and a girl who was on a mission to find her once loved horse now knew where to find her. I knew that Giselle had a story, a good one... and magically her story came to light when I received an email from a girl named Mallory. I was in shock.... she sent pictures of Miss Bobby Socks at the Hampton Classic, with this girl on her back.

The email was this:

Good afternoon,

My name is Mallory ******  and due to the help of many friends I have come across your blog post about "Miss Bobbie Socks"- or "Giselle".

Almost three years ago I was shown a horse that was picked up from auction in my search to lease the perfect child/adult jumper. Miss Bobbie Socks, or "Hope" as she is known to me was one of them. I leased her for a year and a half and we ended our run at the Hampton Classic right before I left for college (photos attached). When my lease was up she returned to her owner, Wayne Dougal, who later sold her to the Strain family horse farm. I was confident that this was a good home until recently when I became informed that she ended up at Camelot. Attached are her photos from Camelot, as well.

I have been desperately trying to track down her new home in an effort to make sure she is safe. I am completely torn apart over the fact that she ended up at auction but your blog post has sincerely given me so much hope for her safety.

Please, if you know who has her or who got her from you, let me know. I am on a crazy manhunt here and judging by your post I'm sure you know why- this is an amazingly special horse. By the way, we had trouble picking a show name when I had her until finally we saw her jump. We then settled on "SuperGirl"- you know why!

Thank you for taking care of her for the time you had her. I am so relieved to see that. I am hoping I can see her again.

THANK YOU

Funny enough.... I came up with the Name "Giselle the Gazelle" in the truck coming home from Auction.... the guy at Camelot said that this horse had jumped out of the round ring, and was too much to handle for the two other people that had adopted this horse before us.... well now we know where she learned to jump! 
Of course... I was over the moon about this new information.... Mallory and I quickly started writing back and forth and now Mallory is on a good path to finding her beloved horse... I hope they can meet again.... If anything, the power of this blog has helped a girl find her friend once more. I am so happy for her, and do hope that she in the end gets her horse that we both loved so much back.
Good luck Mallory!
And my love will always be with you my sweet peasant girl....I think of you every day, and miss you terribly... if only you knew how much you have touched those around you. A very special animal indeed.
Here's to a happy long life with lots of people that love you unconditionally. 

My first day with Giselle the Gazelle my Peasant Girl.

Mallory and "Super Girl" (her show name).

Mallory and "Hope" as she was also called.

Mallory and Hope 

Mallory and Hope

Me and Giselle after our first ride.

Giselle after she kicked a hole in the wall....

Giselle a few days later

The race horse....very scared and unsure at first.... looking at the blueberry farmers in the field in front of us.

BUT WAIT…. the story still goes on for this poor horse. I just got an update on Miss Bobbie Socks.
I sold Giselle (Miss Bobbie Socks) on July 20th 2013.
I was just notified by (Miss Bobbie Socks) current owner of her history so far since she has left my pasture plus she did extensive research and found all the places that Giselle has been before she hit Camelot.  (Where I found her)
I sold her to a Trainer in Connecticut that would find her a forever home.

The trainer I sold her too sent me this after she sold her to her new home.  This is a picture of Chris (her current owner) riding her.

which is where the current owner Christina and her partner bought her. She now lives in Malvern, PA only an hour or so away from me. She is currently being worked from the ground up and will hopefully have a forever home. If Christina does not want Miss Bobbie Socks anymore I have agreed to take her back. Because she is so close to me, I may even go visit her.

Christina sent me this picture of her 1 month ago in her current home. 

Miss Socks all ready for lunging. Chris takes exceptional care of her and dressed her in they fly sheet to help her concentrate while lunging. 

That is one happy and healthy horse. I'm so pleased to have met Chris and correspond with her regularly with fabulous stories of the horse that was once a mystery. 

Lets hope this is the last update.
Goodnight Miss Bobbie Socks. I'm thankful to know where you are. I can sleep well tonight.

My life without kids

Today is one of those days where I desperately want to go on vacation from my children. I sit in a daze as my children scamper all over my body pulling my hair, ripping my glasses off, shouting over the news that I am desperately trying to watch, and jabbing a knee or elbow in my soft parts.... and a terrible feeling of numb engulfs me where my body and mind turns off and runs to a different place.

That place.... I often wonder what it would be like.

A business woman perhaps an art director, or Interior Designer....  wearing a pencil skirt, stilettos, and Italian shirt tucked in with gold expensive jewelery dangling from every part of my body.... I would grab a coffee from starbucks and jump into my brand new sports car that still smelled of fresh leather and would be gleaming with imported wood. I would have music blaring as I raced across town to my very important job where people looked to me for all of the answers. I would work late most nights, but on those nights that I make it home I would make time to ride my horses.

On my days off, I would stay in bed snuggled under my very expensive clean white crisp smelling sheets, and read a book with my cat and my freshly brewed coffee just inches from my hand. I would take a shower for over ten minutes and walk around in silk pajamas before once again starting my day of painting, and riding my horses. Some weekends I would have to wake up early to primp and pamper my horses to haul them off to a horse show, where I would enter the show ring and walk out loaded with awards and ribbons.

To celebrate, my husband and I would pick a fine restaurant in the city to drink and dance the night away together... the conversation would not involve how many poops our children had or what color or smells they consisted of, but instead it would be devoted to talking about our accomplishments, things that were happening around the world, and of course where our next big vacation would be... perhaps Australia, or Bali, or even Bermuda for a romantic get-a-way.

Long hours would be rewarded with high pay, and with that money we could travel in luxury, anywhere our hearts decided to go. Paris would be a hot spot to do some shopping, and Africa would be a place to see our favorite animals on a safari.

Next on the list would be friends... lots of them... I would host dinner parties where couples would flock to have the best cheese and the finest wine. So tired from laughing they would leave with large smiles on their faces and great stories.

And scene!.... lets snap back to reality for a second.

Currently... my one year old is tormented by his teeth, and along with his screams of pain his older brother, a complete monster comes over and football tackles him to the floor, where his already sensitive head hits the floor, with the silent screams to follow, I am the only person that he can go to for comfort.

Then while my two year old sits in time out for being a terrible brother he dismisses the fact that he no longer wears diapers and craps on his time out chair... to clean this up, I must put down my sensitive one year old who erupts into violent screams as I try to clean up fresh poo... using my leg to hold back the one year old and scream at the two year to stay clear of the one year old... this is not what I signed up for.

Having children was a terrible move on my part. I wasn't cut out for loving this career, yet there is nothing I can do about it now. My hopes and dreams have flushed down the toilet with the poo of my two year old, and now it is only a matter of waiting for them to grow up so I can start my life over the way I want it.

Yet, if I hadn't had these children I doubt my dreams would be so intense.... I took life for granted, and my personal time was nothing more then a luxury that I didn't appreciate.

Now with the drive, and forced intuition for hard work, I feel as though I'm ready to conquer the world, and looking forward to enjoying my life as an adult.

I wonder sometimes if this was the only way for me to push myself to what I was meant to be. Maybe the children were a blessing, even though most times it feels like a terrible burden.

At the end of the day, I have a job.... raising these boys to be men that treat humans and this planet with respect. If I can accomplish that then my life will mean something greater then having a successful life as a corporate business woman. I gave a giant chunk of my life to create two men that will hopefully work as hard for something they love as their parents did.

Maybe then I can feel successful. Yet right now... I feel like a failure wasting my life, and growing old and ugly... my youth is slipping away, and at the end of the day I'm  just a mom stuck in a house in New Jersey surrounded by bad smells, loud noises and the constant feeling of numbness.

London Calling

We just got back from Brighton, England. My Uncle John turned 80 and it was a great chance for the hubster to meet all of my family across the pond. It was a daunting task to haul my 1 and 2 year old on an 8 plus hour journey. We had to drive an hour to the airport, wait about three hours to get onto the plane, and then travel through the night for 7 hours to arrive at a very large airport, find our way through it to take a shuttle bus to the car rental place, and then drive on the wrong side of everything another two hours to our final destination... my aunts house.

I haven't felt that sleep deprived since having a newborn baby, and even that did not compare to the sensation of utter mind warp. For a whole week my mind was in a gentle fog and my brain cells were working at about 15%. The boys did not do well with the time difference either. Their tight schedule of naps and sleep time were hit with a wrecking ball and my little baby turned into a grump monster that would wake up on the dot at 3 am screaming while my two year old would sporadically start his sleep with a nice cough and vomit on the floor. A mystery that we still haven't figured out.

On top of the sleep deprivation we all achieved the luxury of having terrible colds. Sore throats, runny noses, blocked sinuses... it was one wrecking ball after another when it came to physical comfort.

Those were the bad things....

Yet, on top of all of this we had an amazing time. My cousins took us out drinking at night, (the hangovers did not help the sleep deprivation, colds, and mental retardation) and during the day we pried ourselves off the sofa to go sight seeing.

The hubster is an expert tourist. He has had the luxury of growing up with a family that dragged him around the globe to see all sorts of different countries and do the tourist thing of joining tour guided groups. He wanted to see London. He had never been, and as much as I dislike large cities I couldn't throw a wrench in his hopes and dreams. Elliott, my cousin is an expert at traveling with out a car, and he had a doctors appointment in London at 4 pm. We all went on the train and landed in London an hour later. Our first stop was Wellington Square to meet up with a free tour. Gary was our tour guide. We walked through Hyde Park and learned about Queen Victoria and her many assassination attempts. We, walked past the walls of Buckingham Palace and learned of the many break ins and the people that had met the Queen Mother with out a welcome. We stood in front of Buckingham Palace and learned about the flag, and the gardens. We saw Prince Charles and Prince Harry's home just across the way and took photos of the guards with their bear fur helmets.

Hyde Park is very much like Central park of New York City, only there is not the constant sound of beeping and there are no homeless people. It was very much picturesque of the Renaissance days of luncheon in the park. I know that if I lived in London this would surely be a place I would frequent. Amazing how this beauty of a walk was located in the center of a city. It changed my opinion of London Instantly.

We ended up in front of the National Gallery, where we left the tour.... seeing as our time was running out. We dashed into the National Gallery for a quick look at some Rubens, Jan Van Eyck, and many other Baroque Artists mostly Flemish, since that was the area we were in. The interior was instantly soothing to me. The architecture was as beautiful as the paintings. The first thing you approach as you walk in is a stained glass dome, light pours in and marble stairs in case you. My only stipulation with the gallery was that to every room you went to there were very heavy doors that took a bit of strength to open. Not only was this irritating, but I couldn't help but feel sorry for those in a wheel chair, or the elderly, or parents with kids in strollers. What a pain.

Buckingham Palace

The fountain outside of the National Gallery. Trafalgar Square.

London Guard outside of Prince Charles house. 

Anyway, we grabbed some lunch and waited for my cousin as he went to his appointment. We took the bus back to Victoria Station and went home.

We went to my uncle's birthday party, which was lovely. He had booked many rooms for family to stay in and we had the privilege of having a room with an extra room and private bathroom. It was awesome. I spoke to many cousins I hadn't seen in ten years, and then we went out after the party to celebrate some more.

The following day we went to Beachy Head. A quiet drive through some picturesque country side. We passed the largest sheep dealer in the world. Who knew that sheep came in so many different shapes and sizes, AND did you know that sheep have tails? I didn't.

We finally arrived at the Dover Cliffs. One of my most favorite places in England so far. I had visited there when I was about sixteen or so. A depressed teenager I was... and walking towards the edge gave me an overwhelming feeling of life. I didn't want to lose it by standing too close. The wind is strong, and the view is empty of civilization. It can't really be described in words or pictures. There is no fence to hold back your cars, or your body's from plummeting off the edge if that's your goal of the day, and many people use this as a place to do exactly that. As we peaked over the edge we could see the remains of a car. The front axle with two wheels laid on the ground below.... a testament to how serious this place can be. Just the day before a couple had leaped to their end... how can such a marvelous place not change the minds of these poor souls?. Surely, the landscape alone would put a bit of life back in them. It exudes life, freedom, everything the spirit should be made of... and yet these fools are blind to it, and throw their bodies to the ground. Something I can't understand...

Overall, it was a great trip. I learned a great deal from the tour that my hubster forced us on... very grateful for it now. I loved seeing my family, and catching up with them.... as an adult with my family surrounding me.... ever so proud of my boys and hubster. I felt as though I had achieved a great deal since I was last there.

We came home with not a bump in the road, and pulled into our driveway at 1 am. So happy to be home and to have my little life back... yet, I will never forget my second home, and the great times I had while I was there.