As I settle into my morning routine of coffee, Facebook, and blog rolls, I see the results from local trials start to make their appearance. Scores are posted, run stories are recounted dressed out with a bit of embellishment, award pictures with handlers, dogs and esteemed judges provide proof. I look over at the faces of those who don't understand why I can't get my hinny into the truck for a drive to spin some sheep around a course, and feel torn.
That's just where I am in life right now...."Hello, my name is Lora and I'm an addict". If I could, I would trial every single weekend from now until Jesus comes back again. Living in the Pacific Northwest while coupled to the fact that I am not afraid to drive, days on end if necessary, I can legally and healthily feed my addiction. No one would be the wiser because there are others that are addicts too; which helps in my justification and makes me look a little more normal (just a little). Oh, but I did not start out this life of mine as a dog/sheep/trail/clinic/lesson addict; which makes me wonder about the genetic makeup of my disease. I can't slip into blaming my parents for this one.
This weekend, my son came home from college. Thanksgiving was the first time since August that both of my boys sat on either side of me. I felt complete, there with my husband across the other end of the table.....adults all of us, conversing, laughing, sharing stories of lives well lived. I'm getting better at management; family time is precious and football games a finite number when it comes to my flesh and blood in pads on the field. Finding balance requires great imagination as well as patience from my friends. I still chuckle about the day I listened to a football game while taking a break from a shedding clinic.....my son catching a touchdown pass and me going game day crazy. I'm sure it does not surprise anyone that my game day crazy is CAARRRAAAZZZZYYYYY especially when its my son catching the touchdown pass! But I missed it in real life. Friends stood in the gap, posting the clip of the catch on Facebook for me to watch (time and time again) while another friend watched the rerun that night with me. If I had to do it again, knowing then what I know now, I'd do it just the same (other than I would have begged the gal living next door to let me watch it on TV) Balance; I'm not sure there is any "program" that uses the word BALANCE...but I'm balancing.
"I can't; God can; I might as well let Him" becomes my mantra second to Seize the Day. Then I dig deep and work at finding balance between the things that ignite my passions: family, friends, dogs. I'm thankful that worlds collide: circles over-lapping circles as my family "gets" my dog passion and all of my besties understand my life outside the dogs. Next weekend, there is a local dog trail that I will miss. Instead I will drive up north for some dog work and dog friends then cross the mountains heading east to a play-off football game and family. Weather and roads cooperating, it will be the best of my balancing act. Today, I'm missing yet another trial down the road. I'm staying home to help pack my son's ride as he's heading back to college today. I always feel a little sad in the hours and days after he leaves. I will not miss his send off. I know too well, there will be a day where my home won't be his home and he will just visit me.
Gyp and Nell have come in and put their heads in my lap. I scratch them with deep affection, glad they don't have computers with Facebook or blog rolls. Thankfully, they don't know they are missing a local trial. Once the boy is packed and headed on his way, I think I'll take the girls out to feed my addiction, give them a spin on sheep while filling in the bit of void left behind by my boy and the unattended trial. I'm balancing my addiction.....I'll let you know how that works out for me!
Seize the Day!
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