Fun in the snow?

I last wrote about how great it was to be out in the snow at dusk. Lo and behold, that night it started to snow. It was a great snow!! I went out at dusk and walked through the fields and absorbed the beauty. I went over to check on my horses and rrrrrrrrrrrriiiiippppppp (record stops). They had ball of ice and snow packed in their hooves so they were like they were walking on stilts. I grabbed the hoof pick and went to work. Two of them seemed to understand that I was trying to help and calmly lifted their feet. The ice and mud was so hard I had to chisel at it. Breathing heavily after one horse, I went to tackle the second. Managed with increased labored breathing to take care of that one. The third one tried to bite me when I went for its hoof. I said "f--- it" join the circus if you want to walk on stilts. Then I got the rest of the animals bedded down. I noticed the water trough was almost empty. It lasted two days and should have lasted five. What do I have horses or camels? Brought the dogs inside and drank a bunch of wine while I watched it snow.

The next morning, I got up and again had my Hallmark moment at 7:00 AM and went around taking pictures while it was still pretty and untouched. However, that soon ended. Had to feed the horses which were banging their buckets quite loudly, put the dogs out and feed and water them. Little dog ran around in the snow like it was on meth. I've never seen it with so much energy even though you could only see its nose at times. Shoveled the walks at my mother's house and mine. Had major heart failure and needed the paddles. Then I started working on filling up the water tank. I had tried to drain the hose before it got cold but the last six inches was ice packed so I had to stick it in a pan of hot water. Finally got water to come out and it gushed much more forcefully than usual. (What was that all about?) Didn't look gift horse in the mouth. I then needed new wiper blades for my car because there were pieces of rubber flapping the night before. Naturally I went to the mechanic at 12:15 and all of the guys were out for lunch except of course the guy that was sleeping on the couch who didn't give a shit that I needed new wipers. I had to kill time for 45 minutes till "the guys" got back. Finally got home at about 2:00. I was so exhausted that I crashed on the couch.

Today I am stiff and sore and think maybe I might die. The point is it bites to get old. Snow always used to mean sledding and ice skating and snow ball fights. Now it is chores and heart attacks. Don't get me wrong, I still love it but why can't the ten year olds do all of the chores and leave the fun for us. They have the energy and stamina. Once again youth is wasted on the young.

Winter Day Blues

I am sitting in my office wondering what I am doing here. I work at a place that when the weather is bad, you have to take vacation days if you don't come in. There are four of us here out of about 50 people. I have no intention of using vacation days sitting at home staring at a grey sky. Now if it was snowing that would be a different matter. My favorite thing is to go out at dusk when it is snowing and stand in the middle of the field. It is so quiet and peaceful. The horses are milling around with a coating of snow on their backs and that cats are trying to leap through the accumulated snow like they are sure they are going to get to a place where it is clear. There is usually no sound. No four wheelers roaring through the woods. No neighbors shooting their guns for hours at a time at imaginary targets. No cars speeding up and down the roads. Just absolute peace and quiet. The snow is pristeen. Except for a few deer tracks, it is undisturbed. People that live in the city just can't imagine the perfectness of this moment. It is times like these that make me remember why I live here and be grateful for it.

Discrimination Comes in All Forms

Last week this country had a historical event. Well actually it was only half historical. President Obama was sworn in as the first person of color to hold the post. But wait, he is actually bi-racial so it was only half historical. Lets fact it, he is light skinned and doesn't look like a conventional black man so the uptight caucasian population was more comfortable with him. When this country manages to elect a totally African American with dark skin, then we will know we have truly arrived at equality, at least concerning race. With women it is another matter.

Applying the same concepts of electing Barack to electing a woman, it would appear that for a woman to be president she would have to be only half woman. What would this look like? Transvestite, transexual, lesbian? Maybe we should consider running Ellen Degeneres. I think Portia de Rossi would bring a certain style to the White House. Or maybe the country would be satisifed with an outwardly straight woman who does girls on the side. I am sure the media would manage to leak that secret.

Which brings me to the hidden discrimination. I am referring the attitude toward women over 45. It would appear from my many converstaions with people under 40 that hitting the 50 year old mark means that you are pretty much done for. I am a 51 year old woman who is reasonably slim and attractive. I dress in a contemporary fashion. Now this is not a euphemism for dressing slutty or like a sixteen year old. It means that I take bits of current fashion and add them to my wardrobe as appropriate. if anyone would read the magazine "More" they would know what I am talking about. However, this wonderful magazine is aimed at women over 40 so I'm sure many people put it in the AARP pile. My major pet peeve is when woman, usually in the early 30s range tell my that I "look good for my age". They actually mean this as a compliment. The "looking good" part is fine but my quibble is with the "for my age". This implies that women of 50 should look old and frumpy. They should be a cross between Edith Bunker and June Cleaver. I always envision someone overweight, short hair that they keep that way because it "is so easy" wearing stretch pants and sensible shoes. I'm not there. I expecially loved it when an extremely everweight woman who takes no care with her appearnave told me she hopes she looks as good as "you do at your age". I have news for her, that would take a miracle becuase you don't look as good as I do at this age. There is a totally condescending tone to this whole conversation. I am not over the hill and my best years are ahead of me.

AT 50 years old, I am comfortable with myself, have a certain wisdom that comes with age. I am able to see not in black and white but in all of the shades of gray in between. I think I look better than I did when I was younger. I have interesting planes to my face and know how to emphasize my best features. Younger men appreciate me and older men run from me. But that is a topic for another day.