After a few conversations and texts today, I realize that a chronological clarification is in order.
In our early thirties, my former husband and I worked side by side to complete a top to bottom renovation of this house.
After the divorce, I turned an old rodeo venue into Three Pines Draft Horse Rescue.
The 14 acres property had a rundown barn, a huge riding arena and a concession building. The barn was fixed up first, barbed wire was removed and new woven wire fencing erected...I have my priorities!
Dad came down to help. Here he is grading the arena.
Next came my house.
The old horse trailer I'd been living in was OK, but the roof leaked and without any windows, the bugs were a real nuisance.
My solar heated outdoor bathtub worked well, but it wasn't going to be near as pleasant when October rolled around.
Working evenings and weekends, the house was ready in 6 months.
I had Hispanics working for me on my janitorial and landscaping crews. Every night a handful of guys patiently taught 'Pequena Hefa' (Little Chief) how to build a house.
My house rule: I work alongside you.
One of the greatest experiences of my life.
Our weekend crew. I spoke Spanish more than English back then. The Mexicans' culture parallels my French Canadian roots and made me feel at home.
Raised in Canada, I arrived in the Deep South culturally disadvantaged. This square peg still doesn't fit in the round hole! Being sidelined while the menfolk work is contrary to my upbringing.
My Dad and uncles encouraged me to participate.
At 8, I had to keep up with them on my snowmobile on all day excursions.
In 1985, my Uncle Bob gave me my first pair of Vise Grips (engraved with my name) that I still treasure today.
At 15, my friend and I spent a weekend rebuilding the transmission of his Massey tractor. 25 years later, he and his wife farm 1200 acres in Quebec with matching his and hers tractors. My kind of folks.
Thanks to the Patry family, I learned how to operate farm equipment and put myself through college in Canada driving tractors 3 Summers in a row. They planted in me the love of draft horses that I still nurture.
Four years ago, the tanking economy, health problems and the ensuing enormous medical debts forced the sale of my beloved farm.
I took my menagerie and moved on...
Unfortunately, I took a wrong turn and embroiled myself in a doomed 3 year relationship with an individual who thought my skill sets were limited to holding tools and fetching him a coffee. A year out and I am not bitter--really. Where did I put that voodoo doll anyway?
Back on track nowadays, playing with sharp tools and building smokers and such.
Keep putting one foot in front of the other and it will all work out.
