If I Had a Magic Wand …
I would first want peace in this world and to have this virus gone. There are so many things I would like to do—like win the Powerball (lol)!
I would stop hatred, racism, and senseless killings as it has gotten out of hand. I remember my dad took me to see the movie Woodstock. There was sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Now it has gone to hate, killings and drug deaths for no reason.
If I had a magic wand, I would make sure the people I love were all okay and well. I wouldn’t have to worry about money or bills. When John Lennon of the Beatles died, I was devastated. That man was all about peace on earth. Yet another senseless killing.
I know if I had that magic wand or could wiggle my nose like Samantha on Bewitched none of this would be happening.
I want to win the Powerball—not for selfish reasons, but so that my friends, my daughter and grandson would never have to worry. If that’s selfish, call it that, but I want to help the people I care about from having illness and problems.
This is my problem: I want to help the world, but I know that is impossible.
I would like to have that magic wand. I am sick and tired of hatred and racism.
We all bleed red and all have the same feelings.
… So WHY?
My Dear Mare Holihocks
Ruby Regina Witcraft
I often think of all of the horses that I have trained in dressage and jumping over a 25-year period. Each horse had its own attitude or, in some cases, no attitude at all. Just a very giving nature which made training a simple pleasure for both of us. This is due to the training method called “Dressage” which is a very gentle method of understanding how a horse moves. Incorporating straightening and power producing actions which make them glad that you understand their body. Much like the strength training any human athlete would do. I have always heard that horses have the intelligence of a three-year-old child. Good thing we have a bit more or we would be pulling the plows.
Holly must have had more than her share of horse since, like a typical mare, She, although, sweet tempered to be around, was absolutely strong willed, temperamental, jiggerly, and as much like any opera diva than I could have ever imagined.
She took very willingly to basic training, which made walk, trot, canter and jumping a joy. Never balked at a jump and took them like a champ. Went into the show ring like a pro and was not a bit nervous. This made winning a cinch.
However, she did have very strong self-preservation. Our neighbor boy liked to wander over and stay in the woods that were near the outside exercise ring. She was doing very well while training her over jumps, this particular day, but suddenly she stopped abruptly. I almost went over her head but knew what the problem was. I yelled, “Johnny come out of the woods or go home. You are scaring my horse because she can smell you.” She snorted, agreeably, but I knew that was the end of this exercise.
Since you wanted a completely trained horse to sell to your riders there was just one little trait that had not arisen. She hated water and absolutely refused to put her nicely shod hoofs in any puddle on the ground, even if shallow. Assuming being a once stalled race horse this never came up and was a hazard to her.
I tried riding her through puddles forward, backward, sideways but she would always avoid them by jumping over or around them. Finally, making the extreme gesture and not wanting to get rough with her, I got off, stood and walked through the puddle, fortunately in my rubber boots, while she watched me. Patted her neck, took the reins and tried to lead her into the bug-a-boo, hoping no one was seeing me make a fool of myself. She jumped over it every time! My barn hand was watching and just shook his head at this strange behavior. From my watery position I looked her in the eye and decided that was enough. She snorted, shook her whole body and stared back at me. I had the feeling that she was thinking, “I’m standing here with dry feet and you are standing, ankle high, in muddy water. Who has better horse sense now?”
You just can’t change some ladies’ minds, as gentlemen well know.
Angel of Interference
Have you ever noticed that there are people who can’t stop themselves from interfering in other people’s business? Perhaps you are one of those. One of those who has to be a part of everyone’s everything. There is something inside of you that starts to itch whenever you get an idea of how to help someone who you see as crying out for you to interfere. You have to be the solution to what ails them, so to speak. Where do you find the time to do that?
Scheduling is the key. If you are going to be that meddlesome one, then you need to make sure that the meddling doesn’t interfere with your life. If it does, well then it becomes a nuisance, and you should just walk away. (Not a chance!) So, schedule your meddling time to fit in with your family, work, and alone time. All of that has to jell and work together for everyone’s sake.
If you have children, they need to be washed, clothed, fed, and on the bus each morning for school. Well, you won’t be getting any meddling done early morning. Considering you have six children, and one on the way, those morning activities are going to take a lot of planning, clock working, and a whole lot of energy … every morning. Before you know it, 5:30 a.m. soon becomes just a minute shy of 7:45 a.m. The bus gets to its stop at 8:00 a.m. You are cutting it pretty close, and if any of those kids miss the bus, well let’s just say, they better not. Right?
So, for the sake of argument, let’s say they all got on the bus okay, and they are off to start their day. Where does that leave you? Home, alone? Let’s see, the kids are at school, the spouse is at work, and you are … late for that doctor’s appointment. You scurry around, collecting mostly useless stuff for the drive to the doctor’s office, and jumping in the car, you start it up, pull out of the driveway, and you are on your way. As you drive, you do three things, and not always in the same order. You adjust the rear views, you turn the radio up loud, and start lip syncing to the oldies, the third thing? Well, that’s easy, you remember the last visit you had, and how the receptionist was talking about her kids and their problems at school. You see it as an opportunity to get some needed interfering time in. Killing two birds with one stone as it were.
No doubt, you have interfering down to an art, maybe even a science. It has become so much a part of your day that your bank of knowledge about everything and anything is bursting to be shared. Fortunately for you, there are a plethora of people out there who are just dying to be interfered with. And you, Dr. Buttinski are all too willing to accommodate them.
At the end of the day, you sit quietly as all the kids are in bed, your spouse is doing whatever it is they do in the other room, and in the quiet darkness you find peace and a sense of satisfaction, knowing that during the day, your act of selfless interference helped someone who needed it. You can sleep well tonight; Angel of interference.