Well, I'm awfully close to being a professional cowgirl, at this point.
The other day, as I galloped a horse across an open field plumb in the middle of the workday, I thought to myself: "my life is weird."
I took a trip three weeks ago with my sister to the west coast. We bobbed around in zodiaks looking for whales and sea lions, drank beers around beach bonfires and hiked through old growth forests. On the way back to Alberta, just as the last time I spent any time away, I felt my heart opening across those prairies. Have you ever felt free and grounded at the same time? It's how I feel about the land sometimes.
Tonight I took my dad to a movie for his Father's Day gift, and as I drove home through Garneau, the usual wave of nostalgia washed over me. I will be leaving this city to live in the country in September. I feel like I miss it already. I don't know how to deal with the constant nostalgia -- I feel wistful for just about everything. Even the bad things.
On the trip, I stopped taking my medication. I haven't taken it since, but the lethargy, the lack of productivity, the clenched feeling in my chest -- they creep back in. I thought for a few days that maybe they wouldn't.
Tomorrow, I have three horses to ride. I think I'll wear my cowboy hat. I am the real deal, here in Alberta, it seems.
