The 250th Post

My worlds have collided!

What does this mean?

The original header from April 2011

Well, it has taken 250 posts, but a real person in my real world has finally found my blog.  I was not trying to hide in the Blogosphere, but I was also not advertising that I was writing and publishing stories about my life with horses for the world to see.  I shared this blog with my family, but, not being horse people, I do not think that they gave it a second thought afterward.  My Mom is probably the only family member who stops by and reads once in a while and that is fine with me.  I do not want my daily acquaintances and friends to feel that I am going to publish our shared conversations and experiences on the web.  I write about my riding lessons and Harley's health and management, but I keep the specifics and the identities of others under wraps as much as I can.  I am even hesitant to share horse names for his reason.

I very much like the idea of having a venue to share experiences and connect with others whom I would not otherwise meet.  I truly appreciate the time you take to read my (sometimes very lengthy) posts and when you leave comments, it often makes my day!  I have learned a lot from many of you through your comments and by visiting your sites and reading about your trials, tribulations, and successes.  Sometimes my perspective is stretched and expanded and other times I feel confirmed in my philosophy, but either way, it is an enjoyable experience and an aspect of my life that I am so happy to have begun 250 stories, adventures, and anecdotes ago. 

The curious person who found Memoirs of a Horse Girl was the barn owner.  She was impressed, which made me feel good about this site, and then immediately asked the most important question:

"How can you make money doing this?"

I had to laugh, because a) I do not make money doing this and b) aside from installing advertisements, I do not know how to make money doing this.

It was a valid question, but I guess that I am not of the entrepreneurial spirit, which is probably also why I am in teaching!  My ratio of annual income to degrees and certifications is not very good.  It is even worse if you include my therapeutic riding certification and annual, required continuing-education hours for both of my professions.  For someone who has an expensive hobby, I am just not in the money-making business.  I guess I should have been a banker, but I would definitely despise that and I really like what I do, even if I would have a difficult time supporting myself on my income alone in our lovely state.  And someday, I want to get a farm.  Will Harley be around to see that?  Will I be young enough to run the place?  I sure hope so, but that is a dream in the very, very distant future.

"That's right kids!  Surprise!  More education and working hard do not translate to more money!  But stay in school and get good grades."

 (And please do not pick an expensive college because, when you actually land a job, you will be paying back the loans forever!  Thankfully, I am not in that boat.  State schools and their merit scholarships rule.)

I worked so hard in school (high school, college, graduate school).  I worked smart, too, but there is no cutting corners when you want to be the best and that is how I always approached school.  I completed every assignment ever assigned to me and I did it with the philosophy that "you never turn something in that you are not proud of".  I try to keep that philosophy going with my job and for my students and with this blog, but as the responsibilities pile up it gets more and more difficult.  Prioritization becomes a must and that means "trimming the fat" and "triage".  Somethings have to slide to stay sane.  I kind of feel old and wise saying that.

I sort of wish someone had told me the truth about getting rich and working hard and going to school years ago, but I do not think it would have changed my path.  It just would have made it less of a shock once I grew up, which will happen someday, if not literally (I am 5 feet tall.), then figuratively.

Riding, training, and caring for my own horse: a dream realized