Way to make a 180 at life, hey?

Four weeks ago, I was in tears over the bills that continued to plague my mother and my existence, and the lack of money to thwart their attacks. All we had were each other, four cats, a dog, a horse, and a fifth wheel RV which was all we could buy out of the proceeds from the sale of our ~2,000 sq. ft. suburban single family house. That, and the ongoing dream of building a sustainable, green farm involving cows, a llama, sheep, chickens, horses, and plants. In being mobile, we committed to chasing that dream and searching for grants and loans and jobs to make things go. And by the by, this dream was launched as a brainchild of mine over a year ago, but my god it feels like the scheme’s been in place for at least 5 years. Funny how time pretends to speed when there’s a lot going on.

Most everyone knows that April of last year marked a new beginning for my mother and I when my father had a dissection of the aorta and almost died. He moved to Florida with his family for rehab and my mother and I were instantly out from under a shadow of facades and resentment. Since then was the obvious sale of our house, moving all over the Rocky range in our fifth wheel, then coming down from the high of freedom to face the reality of the economy. Jobs in my mother’s trade were limited and risky; either you lost the job next month or the bosses want to pay as little as they possibly can regardless of expertise or the needs of the employee. My mother has her bachelor’s in plant science from Rutger’s, and hers is the most detail-oriented brain I’ve known. For me, conventional high school never worked, and nor did about four other online high schools. So while I’m sorting through what to do about education and keeping my horse happy and trying to get the odd art commission online, our situation with money went from diving into the unknown to hitting the cement floor below. We lived off of my mother’s IRA, then when that was gone our last lifeline was my college fund.

My college money is now depleted by over $10,000, but another funny instantaneous change came in the form of a near-stranger we met at one of the RV parks we resided in. My mother and she were walking dogs at midnight and got to talking. This woman had big plans for putting out a product for horses -- and any life form that ingests it -- similar to sand clear and fiberpsyll but far better tailored to the horse’s 72 feet of intestine. She was running research with a herd of wild BLM horses on her property way-the-hell-out in the Colorado countryside, where if you’re not careful, the winds will blow you clear to Kansas. Long after she left the RV park to move onto the research property, we got in touch with her again and she had us come visit the place. She said she had always remembered her meeting with my mother, and their values on sustainable gardening were on the same route. Of the philosophy that you meet people for a reason, she wanted my mom to head her sustainable and permaculture gardens also as part of a research that compost from animals taking the product -- called Coliclenz -- retains more moisture and aids in a healthier plant. She also wanted me to assist my mother and the head animal caretaker, but later, that caretaker ended up resigning from the position, making me the runner up.

Now, Gayle Swain and her company, PHP Pellets, of which my mother and I are the live-in overseers, has just gotten out of negotiations and organizing the transfer of a multi-million dollar investment. We started getting paid this week a sum many of my close friends know, but here, suffice it to say it’s a sum that will allow us to never fear bills again. In time, she will sponsor my pursuit of going pro in jumping, including the purchase of a new mount. All I know right now is that when Gayle says she wants to do something, she gets it done. I also know some of the company affiliates are Olympic level riders and international sport horse breeders. I know no details other than that.

In my job, I’m working closely with that wild horse herd who are let out to pasture right now with zero human intervention. I’ve gotten to a point where I can walk among them with no response, as if I’m part of the herd. I can touch many of the foals, and the most dominant of them has become a real buddy. He’ll make a wonderful mount and friend in the future; I can touch all over his body, walk square-on up to him, and his reaction has little initial fear in it now. His expression says, “HIIII friend! Can you scratch my butt for me?” I’ve named him Domingo, but I kind of think maybe he named himself. While watching him one afternoon the only word to pop into my head like a lightning bolt was just that: “Domingo.” Don’t ask me to explain because I can’t. It was a completely random thing for me. I’m not Spanish and know very little of it, and if I’d heard the word before it was completely forgotten.

I watch the herd every day and mingle with them several times a day. None of the adult mares will let me touch them, and why should they? In their perspective if I’m in the herd, why should I want to go up and touch them? It’s not natural for a herdmate to just come up and rub against another unless there’s mutually-initiated grooming going on, so Alice’s (one of the mares, a fleabitten gray) reaction to the only touch I was able to give her was perfectly normal if you think of another mare in the herd coming up to her and randomly making contact with her flanks. She kicked out with one leg and pinned her ears, but took no aim; it was a warning. She told me not to push it, girlie. You’d think the foals would be more shy, but this is a wild herd starved under BLM, so it’s the adults who come with the baggage. The foals just think, “Wtf are you? Do you taste good?”

It’s so much fun to watch the foals play games. They are very effective at tag, and if some members wander off, the young ones are the first to say “Hey, where you goin’?” They’re very vocal. Domingo adores the scratches I give while he’s shedding his baby coat. He tries to return the favor and groom me back but I thwart his ‘favors’. He thinks he’s being nice to me and I appreciate it, but he fails to grasp that my skin is not as thick as his, nor do I have fur to protect from baby teeth. First time this happened I thought he was just being mouthy, but then I watched as nearby, Sash and Groo groomed each other and I understood what Domingo was trying to do.

Today, I nearly fell asleep between Princess Sasha and Sash -- two other herd foals -- as they dozed under the midday sun. Domingo was close by of course, grazing now that he’s starting to wean. He fiddled with Sash’s mane and then came over and fiddled with my shoe before I realized it was lunch time.

While parts of my job are wonderful, such as these moments with the wild horses, others are stressful. I have to take on the role of groomer to five matted dogs, juggle very specific feed rations, and if by some miracle I get everything on my daily list done fast, I then have to stress over the uncertainty of whether I’d given myself enough to do. Gayle is very lenient. She says the help we’re providing is simply magnificent, and we’re allowed to schedule our days as we so desire. She lets all employees run themselves while she worries about the corporate side of things. It’s nice, but only once you get used to it. Until then, you fret over what you don’t understand about what needs done.

Only three weeks on the job and I already feel like I need a vacation. It’s tough to monitor time that passes when you’re not worrying about a schedule. But soon enough, I’ll be on the road to Montana to pick up my newest bundle of joy, Tate -- our just-weaned mini colt. <3 As for education, I'm in a GED program with little time to do anything in it, so we'll just see once things start to calm down. And our aspirations for a farm of our own are no where near diminished by Gayle's project. PHP Pellets will be a likely affiliate to our own company in the future.