Personal Reflections After Watching Say Her Name: The Life and Death of Sandra Bland

1. I've never been assaulted by a police officer.
2. I've never been wrongfully detained by police.
3. I've never been afraid when I saw a police officer.
4. I've never considered how lawful actions may get the attention of a police officer.
5. I've never been arrested.
6. I've never been stopped by a police officer while walking down the street.
7. I've never learned all the reasons why a police officer can stop me.
8. I've never learned what my rights are if a police officer pulls me over.
9. I've never been pulled over for no reason.
10. I've never had a family member teach me what to do if a police officer pulls me over.
11. I've never seen my #whiteprivilege so clearly.

See the official film page on Facebook here.  #BlackLivesMatter #SayHerName

Stop DAPL: Bombard the Executives

Not everyone can travel to Standing Rock, ND to help the water protectors protect important fresh water resources.  I've created a document to help us contact the executives at the at Energy Transfer Partners L.P. and included a copy and paste letter template.

I will try to provide more resources and letter templates to contact public servants and others.

View the resource here: http://tinyurl.com/stopDAPLcontact

Family Additions

Once upon a time, there was a woman who had 2 dogs, 2 cats, 8 chickens, and 1 horse.  She loved her pets and lived in a modest home with a big back yard.

One day the woman was very sleepy and snuggled into her bed with 2 dogs and 1 cat - because Thomas (ahem) I mean, the other cat liked to play outside at night.  She drifted off to sleep smiling and thinking about her wonderful life.

Shortly, she was sitting in her Versailles apartment wishing she had more animals.  She went shopping at a Petsmart-like store but it was all animal adoptions.  She decided on her new kiddos and went home to the apartment in Versailles.

Now she started getting her new family settled in to their little homes.  She was thrilled to welcome 2 chinchillas, 2 fancy rats, 2 rabbits, and a large colorful bird.

Very soon the rabbits quickly turned into 6.  Then 10.  Then 14.  And then she woke up like this.

A Special Number

So if you know me, you know my life involves horses.  Eventing is my sport.  Jake is my horse.

I had a really special moment today at JumpStart Horse Trials at the Kentucky Horse Park and I want to remind myself of it once I forget.  So here's the story.

One of Jake's students was showing him in her first horse trials so I played the role of horse show mom.  I was watching Jake and another teammate warm up for show jumping when a young lady approached me and said, "I'm nervous."  I engaged in the typical conversation of "breathe" and "I think you'll do fine."

She then said, "Well, I'm the one at Kentucky Classique who demolished jump two."

I replied, "Oh I was your ring steward and I remember that!"

For those of you unfamiliar with Eventing, that's incredibly poor manners.  Coaches always tell their students "nobody will remember" when you have an epic fail.  Clearly, I am not a coach.

I can't remember the exact words of the conversation but I quickly learned that her coach injured her back earlier in the morning and could not continue coaching.  She was at the warmup alone.  She was nervous. She was worried.  So, of course, I asked if she needed help.  She gladly accepted my offer.

I quickly got her name and looked up her number, jump time, etc. and instructed her to start trotting/cantering so I could see how they go.  She started jumping and I gave her tips and her warmup improved.  I asked how she felt about going on to the ring early and she said she was ready.

After walking to the ring gate, I asked if she had any questions.  She asked how to ride a line.  Um.  I didn't even know the course, let alone, had I walked it.  She knew it was six strides so I gave her how I "thought" I would ride it, a couple last tips, and in the ring she went.

I clucked, legged, and half-halted with her every stride on the course.  She overcame and had her first double clear at the Kentucky Horse Park.  She was thrilled.  I was thrilled.  Her mother was thrilled.

Gracie Roades and Moves Like Jagger

I friended them on Facebook and ran into them again walking around the Cross Country course.

Now that I've had some time to reflect, I know why this experience was so special to me.  I'm sure I didn't tell her anything she hadn't heard before but I was there as support and I was also in her stirrups a few short years ago when we regularly had rough stadium rounds.  I remember my first double clear in that ring.  I remember the incredible sense of accomplishment.  I remember the partnership I felt with Jake that we had finally succeeded in jumping those dang standards and sticks.  I still have my number from that show hanging on my desk calendar.  Every time I look at it, I am reminded that I can overcome obstacles and be successful with hard work.  It is a special number indeed.

So now I conclude with, thank you, Gracie.  Thank you for picking me out of the people standing on the rail so I could remember that feeling again and share in your moment.

Love my sunburned boy

I love my sunburned boy.  Now before you call social services, I'm not talking about a human boy. I'm talking about this boy.

He's really starting to sunburn and I decided today that I love it.

Instead of a sharp black and white tone he's starting to take on a variety of bronzy-brown hues throughout his coat.  Most people scoff at a sunburned horse.  But I celebrate it.

It means I let him be a horse.  It means he spends time in fields instead of always in a stall.  It means he's naked and free instead of sweating in nose to tail wrappings that make me feel better as a human.

Sure most people envision horses spending time in fields serenely munching on grassy goodness.  But in the Sport Horse world, that's not always the case.  We want to make them beautiful for the show ring, which our definition is completely artificial.

I go back and forth because I do love the sharp contrast of the black and white in our show photos when we're really launching it over a kick-ass table.  But then I think about my horse sweating in a fly sheet or getting it all cattywampus and having to sleep like that.  If I didn't shave his tail, the fly sheet never would have started.  My delicate little flower needs a little TLC because without his top tail hairs, his pink skin is exposed and suffers terrible sunburn. Thankfully a little sunscreen can help that.

I think I'll sit back and look at his sunburn in a new way and enjoy his happiness that comes along with that bronzy-brown and white horse I have.

The dirty little secret about Roomba iRobot

There's a dirty little secret about the Roomba iRobot that nobody will tell you.  I'm here.  And I will.

I started off my day working a little in bed like I normally do when I saw a Facebook post announcing a deal on Amazon Prime Day for the Roomba iRobot 600 series.  I thought about it.  I pondered.  I justified.

I live with two cats and two dogs inside, 9 chickens and a horse outisde.  I'm highly allergic to cats.  I console my allergist by telling him I'm job security.  As you can imagine, it's a little dirty at my house.  My mother moans that it's a farmhouse every time she visits.  I cannot deny this accusation.

We have hardwood floors and only a couple of small rugs to give the dogs traction when they're chasing each other or the cats.  I vacuum at least weekly and sweep with a broom at least weekly and often more because I can't stand to see dirt on the floor.

During my Roomba jusitification process, I realized I never vacuum or sweep under the couch, bed, desk, hutch, or any other under-cover place.  This could be why I wake up from dreams of swimming, which I can't, and not being able to breathe - only to wake up with my asthmatic lungs seized up into a dither.

So, I ordered a Roomba iRobot for the bargain price of $250 +tax.  But nobody told me what would happen.

I eagerly awaited it's arrival, opened the instruction booklet, and followed it step by step.  I set an alarm on my phone so I'd know when it was fully charged and ready to get to work.

Then I pressed the "clean" button with no idea of what the future would hold.

Roomba bounced off the walls, backed up and back again, crawled under the couch with it's gentle murmur and I was thrilled.  It crossed it's path so many times I began to wonder if it was faulty.  Finally it moved into the dining room where I saw it's little brush excavate particles of crap from nooks and crannies I never knew existed.

It worked tirelessly in the living room, dining room, and kitchen without ever making it to the hall, bedroom, bathroom, or office before heading back to the docking station for a little R&R.

I was dumbfounded.  What the hell?  I thought this thing was supposed to vacuum my whole house, not just three measly rooms.  I mean - IT'S A ROBOT.  I could vacuum longer than that with my damn Kirby.

I flipped to the next page in the booklet to learn the next step is emptying the dust bin.  Hastily, I trudged over to the docking station and lifted it's little bum to remove the dust bin.

And then I saw it.

The filth.

The filth from floors where I could see no dirt particles on the floor before I started it.  The filth I had unknowingly been living in for years.  The filth that made my lungs wheeze and my dogs sneeze.

Nobody will tell you that the Roomba iRobot will show you what a filthy life you live.

Photo by Jodi Dickey - Keeneland Racecourse Fall Meet 2011

Photo by Jodi Dickey - Keeneland Racecourse, Lexington, KY - Fall Meet 2011