dodge, dodge, dodge

i keep asking my girl,

are you going with me to all four days of dodge?

you keep asking me that,

she says, then asks,

what are the dates?

sigh. tweens. it's tough when they get older and a schedule all their own.

last year she went to two of the four days with me. this year, i hope to make it four of four. who knows what she'll want.

but it's a long stretch for a kid, and i can offer up the pass to others who may want to join me for the ride and the day (though, i don't know, sometimes i'm better off alone. but there are one or two poets who maybe i could take with me).

so i've got to get my tickets, i don't have them yet. and word is, someone got my card numbers, so my credit card company is issuing me a new one. i don't know how they got out, but my company said,

did you download some video games?

nope.

okay then, we're issuing you a new card.

kids, nothing better to do, i guess.

truth be told, i don't want to drag my kid to dodge, i want her to want to go. and, i think for the most part she does. but it's a fourteen hour day, four days in a row. last year she had conflicting commitments, which meant i had to drive her home midway through the day, then drive back. not doing that this year, that's all i've got to say.

i passed out after we got back from the farm. the horses were hot so we hosed them down, everyone with their head poking out into the aisle, sausages secure (stall guards, i know, but sausages is a cute word).

even the big guy, bandit, the one i ride, he let me hold him and hose at the same time, which is not something i would normally try, but there was a lot going on and i just needed to get it done. he gets very hot, and with those doors shut, even an 85 degree day is a scorcher.

i've come to really appreciate bandit. he used to be a hunting horse. (oh how my eyes itch, i think it's time to invoke benedryl). but now, he's just a teaching horse. i say, "just" but know that it isn't just what he's there for.

it's nice to have him calm and steady with me on foot. i try to just breathe and remain calm myself. it's hard to remember when the animal is towering over you, but he is gentle. if he startles, it's not that he's trying to, it's just that he did.

i keep telling my girl,

don't take things personal.

you see, velvet was in a bad mood when we arrived, but i think she was just hungry and hot. once we hosed her down and fed her, she was a peach.

and i love doing it. perhaps as much i love poetry. never thought i would say that. but we volunteered at a local community service project before we went to the farm, and though we're busy, it was good to do something in service to humans, not just horses.

though humans tax me to my limits, they also are a necessary evil. i keep telling my sister,

i'd really like to never have to deal with people again, but i just can't have it that way, can i?

no.

she replies.

and i understand this. i'm sure other people feel that way too. more and more an artists commune is sounding like something doable for me, perhaps someday in my nomadic future, i'll wind up spending some time in concentrated creativity apart from the rigors of the daily grind.

but that is, in little snippets, what the farm represents in my life.

the life i want. the life i'm working toward. the life that is coming to me.

we don't arrive where we're headed by hyperspace. we get there by deliberate action. by the choices we make.

i'm ready for the good stuff to begin. ready for the changes i've dreamed to take place, ready for the uncertain future, to become certain.

all of this and more.

i'm ready.