I can't believe that I haven't posted in so long -- I think it's a record. Thank you, Jackie at Regarding Horses, for looking for me and for tagging me with this meme. I'm supposed to post the rules, so here goes:
- Link to the person who tagged you.
- Post the rules on your blog.
- Write six random things about yourself.
- Tag six people at the end of your post.
- Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
- Let the tagger know your entry is up.
Jackie chose to make all her things about horses, but I'm going to make them about my fears. Here are six things I'm afraid of:
- I'm afraid of smelling like an old person. In fact, I'm afraid of smelling like any kind of person (horses are okay) at all. My defense against this is to bathe regularly, etc. And to wash my clothing, bed linens and everything else a lot. This has led me to become a detergent and fabric softener connoisseur. Because your nose can get used to scents, I keep about three kinds of coordinated detergent and softener pairs going (plus who wants to have shelf space in their laundry?). I use them at random but never two loads in a row. Current favorites are Gain original, Tide with baking soda (chamomile and lemon verbena scent), Tide with Dawn (sometimes you just need something that cleans the dickens out of your dirty laundry) and some high-priced purple bottle (Downy amethyst something?) that doesn't say what "flavor" it is but smells woodsy and wonderful.
- I'm afraid of trailering horses. I know, I know. I've been doing this for decades but it still makes my pulse race. I haul once a week to a riding lesson (really a non-event, but I skeedaddle before dark and get nervous if it's dark because, you know, horse trailers and trucks automatically break down when the sun sets). I'm afraid that the horse will fall through the floor, since I've heard about that happening to local people. I'm afraid soem speeding redneck will rear-end me and break the horse's legs. And most of all, I'm afraid of breaking down. Because heaven knows if I broke down, the horse would turn upside down in the trailer and we'd never get him upright again. (Actually, he would keep eating and I'd be the one to turn upside down.) Having said all that, I do have a vivid memory of one of our horses trying to climb out of an open-topped trailer when I was a child. Fortunately, the trailer was parked. My father stood in the bed of the truck and used a crop on the horse's face to get her to put her front feet back inside the trailer and onto the floor. I remember seeing the horse fall into the trailer, and while floundering around, slit open her back hoof. It became a cloven hoof and the blood, oh the blood. Fortunately, the hoof healed and the horse lived to die of old age. (And we got a closed-top trailer.)
- I'm afraid my daughter will discover boys. See this post. For this reason, I'm hauling her and her horse to Pony Club this Saturday even though it is quite far away and we don't have our new trailer yet. Me, one horse, one girl. Too bad it's a bad idea to take Xanax and drive.
- I'm afraid I'll never finish my novel(s). Or that I will, and they'll stink. Here's one thing and another.
- I'm afraid it is possible to weigh 500 pounds. If I eat everything I want, how big will I get? I'm afraid it is possible to weigh 500 pounds. I'll stop indulging -- right after I have this piece of homemade Christmas fudge.
- For my last "I'm afraid," I don't know what to choose. Should it be something real and serious, like, "I'm afraid you really can wreck the U.S. economy and we can become a third-world country" (true). Or some other scary thing like, "I'm afraid that there really are people in this world whose religion says that they have to kill us." (true). How about this instead: I'm afraid of cows. Actually, I'm not afraid of cows. Oh, I've run when I was in Ireland in a pasture full of cows and they started ganging up on me, but I don't think they're mean or dangerous. I don't know what to do with cows. I don't know how to look at them. They don't look right. They look, to steal from Terry Pratchett, like a sack full of coathangers. What's with the bony hips? Can I feed you and get those covered? They stick out in all the wrong places. And what are they thinking? I can't read cow faces. They all seem to have the same expression, which appears to be, "Where's lunch?" Think I'll stick to horses. Plus, who wants to smellscowsey?