as long as it was awaited

Unfortunately, I cannot yet post any pictures because the lack of plug adaptors has kept me from charging any of my electronics, and I am not on my own computer. Imagine... well, don't. Just wait until I can post pictures.

Where even to begin? Laying awake at night (as I am apt to do) I think up all sorts of things I would like to include here, but this adaptor problem combined with my workload has not left much time for the internet. I promise to be more regular with the posts, as at least half of this will be remedied this week. Let me just note that the place I have come to is so small that the aquisition of a simple adaptor has taken two weeks, and part of it was dont via mail.

I guess I will begin with the horses. That should get the flow going... You know those posters that say 'all I need to know in life I learned in kindergarten'? Well, I am pretty sure I understood the effect that the horse would have upon my very essence before kindergarten (children's garden, in german, btw), but that has certainly been confirmed. Holstein (the 'state' of Germany I have come to) is truly horse country. There are more horses than people here. The people live with their horses, literally. Houses are big brick buildings with huge, thatched roofs. One half is where the people live, and the other half is the barn. You can go to the barn without going outside. Inside the houses, to go to the 'barn' side of the house is just opening a bedroom door. Beyond that, I am riding some of the finest animals in the world. It is almost indescribable. My favorite horse is Johnny. He is a 7 year-old Holsteiner stallion. Yesterday, I jumped him 1meter20. That was pure bliss. You sit on his back, his big, gracious back, and he takes you places. Then, suddenly, you are not a man anymore, you are some other creature- one that has grown new parts, and has new capablities. Jumping him, you almost don't even feel the jumps- even though they are big- you are just going as this new entity, and the jumps come up underneath you, but the whole motion is fluid, elastic; it is earth, air, earth, air. You land after one fence, and he is looking with you for the next one, his ears up, he is exilerated too! You show him the direction of the next jump, and that in combination of asking for the lead change, he says, 'ok, little girl, that one? are you ready? hang on to me, keep your legs there, sit back, here we go!' and oh! how we go! I could close my eyes even, and still the whole thing would be perfect and seamless. Riding John makes me want to read more Plato. In him are all the Virtues- upon his back, in his 400 year-old blood, amongst his mane- I can percieve them all when I feel the softness of his coat. Everything could fall apart and I wouldn't mind as long as I could still have the grace that it is to ride that horse. Having just read a wonderful novel, 'The Life of Pi,' I am into this idea of things that will make one believe in God; riding Johnny will make you believe in God. Any of you men reading this that want to marry me, I'll just say now that I don't want a diamond or any of that silliness. I just want Johnny.

Another horse I really like is the Lifestar 5. I broke him last week (which, when done properly is NOT this cowboy-bucking-bronco shit you see on TV; there was no falling involved, no bucking, no rearing, nothing insane). He is a very sweet boy, just turned 4, is going to be a very cute hunter. He still has baby personality- putting everything in his mouth! But so nice; we started jumping him on Friday. All the horses here are really nice, they are just two of my babies.

My German is coming along. I know about 100 words. However, about 60% of them are specific to equispeak, another 25% are specific to Martin Heidegger, so I guess that only leaves about 15 words that matter to speaking the language generally. And considering that I can count to ten... maybe I actually need to work on that a little more. I will blame Torston. Torston is our mentally challenged stall cleaner. He tries to have complex conversations with me, even though he knows I don't really understand him. And, he is responsible for most of the German I am learning, so we will see what happens when I go to town and try to talk to people. I bet that will be comical. Someone should make a short film where that happens. No, actually, we have some pretty funny interactions. One would not believe what can be communicated through gesticulation. Since we work together, and he does do a bit more than just clean the stalls, sometimes it is very neccessary for us to relate information. 'Go and make the rope so I can turn the foals out in the riding halle' (This involves a complex system of ropes in which to guide the babies that cannot yet be lead with a halfter into the riding halle so they can run around) turns into a pantomime of small pferde (horse) which goes crazy and makes lots of noise when you try to lead it running through a maze and out into the open where it gets a big smile on its little horsey grill. Quite hilarious. I should get someone to video it secretly so you readers can see. Torston has no teeth, and smells very bad, but I am not confident that those aspects would not be lost on video... Mom, next time we play chardes, I'm going to kick your butt! Another interesting aspect of language is that sometimes, even with those that speak english, my vocabulary exceeds the person's comprehension. Here is a point where being a poet is actually quite practical; I can come up with pretty much endless similies for things. When you are miscommunicating, the best solution is to say what the thing you mean is like. Usually it only takes a few 'like' things to achieve understanding.

I live in a cottage on an organic farm. It is about a mile up the road from the barn. It is nice, but the farm is stinky. I have two wood burning fireplaces, and I cook a lot of curry. I don't know why. Perhaps it is because curry makes everything good, even cabage. Typical day: wake up at 7, get dressed, make coffee. Eat toast with nutella, pack lunch, put coffee in thermos. To barn by 8. Ride, turn out horses, tell the farrier what to do, perform silent film with Torston. 1pm, eat lunch: two hard-boiled eggs, almonds, yogurt, apple, bread; sometimes sausage and cheese instead of eggs and nuts. 2-6 ride some more, get yelled at by Max, try to get organized for the next day, clean bits, straighten tack room. Go home, make fire, curry. Shower, read, bed by 9pm. Sleep! Wake up, start over. I'm doing what I love, but working kinda sucks. Thank you, Lord, for my Johnny! It is pretty cold here. Every place I have ever injured myself pretty much constantly aches and complains. It is weird, because I feel like I am in the body of a teenager at times- I consistently am eating bread and butter and cheese and sausage and whole milk and chocolate (all SUPER delicious, btw) and I keep getting thinner and thinner and more muscled, even just after two weeks. But then, I have arthritis and cranky joints, and I can predict the weather with my bones as well as anybody three times my age. Human bodies are mysterious vehicles.

Ok, I think I have given a good overview to catch everyone up. More details to follow... Love from the other side of the sea...