Life is a circus

A long time ago before there were so many different things to entertain us and otherwise take our money, there was the traveling circus.  Mind you, this is the more of traveling Carnival less Ringling Brothers and definitely not Cirque du Soleil.  It was a big deal when the circus came to town, all the pretty ladies in their sequined outfits, the clowns, the animal acts and a couple of things that were really strange freaks of nature--this was such a big deal that the town would have a parade.  The circus also had two types of horses--the show ponies--usually white or gray, prancing with feathers and bling. They were stars along with acrobats and acts on board. You just know that they were stabled in a covered area, so they would not get muddy.  They would be brushed so their coats would shine, they probably even had a blanket with their names embroidered on the side. If there was a plush animal prize for a game of chance or concession that had the show pony as a prize, it was the one the little girls wanted most.   Then, there were the work horses, the dark colored ones that pulled the wagon, hoisted the tent, and gave rides to children chained to a center post. I doubt there was much of a market  for the work horse plush animal.  Both horses worked, very hard, but were basically different.  Neither horse would be comfortable with the other's harness.   You were either a show pony or a work horse.

I am a work horse.  I come from a long line of work horses. I have always hitched my harness and plowed the field regardless of the weather or how big the field was.    Taken care of business, with not much drama and not much maintenance.  I don't usually need to have my butt powdered, or need to be given a lump of sugar (yellow marker) to keep going, just an bucket of oats every day and I am good to go. Ney, whinney.   In the past few months, every one has told me that I should take it easy, relax, let others do for me. I am trying, but it is hard.   I simply do not know how.  I am too old to become a show pony, I am so well trained that if cut loose I would return to the barn, or at very least keep going around in a circle giving the kids a ride.  I am happiest when I have a sense of purpose and accomplishment to my day. 

But for Monday, I was moving toward, getting my harness back on, and looking for my plow.   The angry villagers from Neulasta returned  because they didn't finish me off last week.  At one point I thought I was a horse headed to the glue factory...ugh, that is so last week.  Some drug intervention (read: drooling drug coma) and promises from my Onco Doctor that I would not be terrorized by the villagers on my next cycle (read:  No day after shot), the sun did indeed come out on Tuesday.  By the time I spoke with Lauren mid afternoon, I had been to the store, brain farted a Lunch date (hey, I now have an excuse--chemo brain) , taken a load of junk to Goodwill, cleaned up the cabinet in the garage, swept and blew the pollen, spiders and leaves out of the garage, clorox the green slime on the pool deck, and was prepping for dinner....boy, I love the feel of the plow.  I know this is not seem like a lot of activity, but to an old work horse, I was glad for energy that allowed me to get r' done. 

Tomorrow, Lauren goes back to work.  A little less than 6 weeks after having Eli.  When she was growing up, I thought she was a show pony, for sure.  After all, Ed's mother, Maxine, was the queen of show ponies.  But Lauren has proved me wrong, time and time again.  She is a work horse, just like her mother, but she does it with so much more style and grace than I ever had at that age...it must the work horse with a sprinkle of show pony in her gene pool.    I watch her in sheer amazement...my heart almost bursting with pride.  She is a wonderful wife, mother, worker bee, and friend...but best of all she is a great daughter.  She returns to work with a unusual schedule....when you have a 24/7 conference center, you can be creative with your 35 - 40 hours a week, it just doesn't leave a lot of "me" time.  Just like the circus horse, she will have a lots of different jobs everyday, each which will take her full energy.  It seems like a lot now...but she has been training for this, and I know she will be fine.  Meanwhile, I am saying a little prayer for my precious grandson, Eli, to sleep tight, so his mommy can get back in the harness tomorrow.