Photo: This Morning

Right now, wakin up, still sleepy. Kylin was happy that I came back after my slumber party. Man, I crashed hard. Me, the author, is still adjusting to some hard physical work, so I've been slacking some on words, but it's hard to do everything sometimes. Wow, I wish I could just have and ride my own horse and write, ha, someday. That would be a godsend. I pretend a few of the beasts at work are mine. Also, there's this huge black dog named Mac who I love, who coincidentally has the same nickname as me. His face is unbelievably expressive, more human than dog really. He loves to come over to me and get right in the way when I'm trying to work.

Allow me to indulge in a selfie...FB photo not on FB.

C.A. "Mac" MacConnell


Quotes of the Day

"We're fucked...and not in a good way."  -- anonymous person next to me.

Me:  "Hey! I brought ice cream bars. They're in the fridge!"
My "Debbie Downer" coworker:  "I'm lactose intolerant."

C.A. MacConnell


C.A. MacConnell


Horse Sense: Laughter and Love

Today, I was cleaning stalls, and I wasn't feeling top notch with the heat and all, but for once, we were getting the work done fast, and we were almost done, but I swore that I felt someone watching me. I looked around. The other guys were shoveling away. Nothing. I shrugged and started sweeping. Still, I knew that someone was watching me. I knew it, but I swept on, sweating away. Then I stopped and looked around again. Still nothing. So I continued with the mission, feeling weird.

Then I stopped quickly and turned around fast, and I glanced at the stall across from me. There was Rugby, the 16'3 bay thoroughbred gelding, staring at me. He was the one intently watching, and I realized that he'd probably been watching me sweep the entire aisle. Rugby is a horse that just got shipped in from another farm and weirdly enough, I used to work at the other barn, and I used to ride him, so he's new at this farm, but he remembers me, and I think he's thrilled to know someone at the new place. He's super talented, and I really like the guy, so sometimes I pretend he's mine. Well, I think he does the same thing; that is, he pretends that I'm his owner. So there he was intensely staring at me, and he continued to stare while I worked. And he was clearly smiling. Horses have this look, and it's an unmistakable grin. Sometimes it even gives the feel of a chuckle or a clear laugh. For some reason, Rugby is fascinated with me, and he also thinks I'm hilarious. Not only did he stare, but when I moved, he shifted around in his stall to make sure he still had a view of me.

So I laughed and waved at him.

He shook his head, smiled, and stared. He was so entertained by our "staring game" that he wasn't even eating his fresh hay.

It's the funniest thing. The other day, his possible new owner came to ride him, and I happened to be in the aisle sweeping when she was trying to put on the bridle. Every time she tried to tack him up, he moved around, looked at me, and I swear he laughed. The new possible owner was furious, because she was having a horrible time getting him ready, but he was just playing a game with her, and he was making sure that I saw his tricks. Just like people, some horses have a great sense of humor. Rugby likes to play games and watch me slave away cleaning aisles, ha.

But what has struck me is that when I get around horses, I immediately become more intuitive, and I'm often this way with people as well, just because I've lived most of my life in the horse world. There's this ability, or "horse sense," I like to call it. I wrote an article about it for Cincinnati Magazine and The Chronicle of the Horse some time back.

Any job/hobby/lifestyle will change a person's view of the world. My world with horses has taught me to see what is really there behind the silence. In Rugby's case, it's all laughter and love.

A good way to live life, Rugby. Thanks for the reminder. Laughter and love. Come join me,
C.A. MacConnell


Sign Patrol: Finally, Home.

You know, it's hard for me to find a place to fit in, but I saw this sign, and I knew I was home.

C.A. MacConnell

Photo: Lionel


Isn't he amazing?!! I came across this new friend on my walk today. :)

C.A. MacConnell

Photo: Flashback Friday

Me at an event for something or other at some time or other. If no one told you yet today, I love you. Yes, you. You know who you are. Sometimes a girl has to be specific. All of that I just wrote sounds creepy as all-hell. Who gives a fuck.

Man. My new mantra according to my spiritual adviser:  Okay, Whatever.

I'm glad I lost my mind a while back, because it really frees you up, just sayin. You can have an imaginary boyfriend for as long as you like. I've had the same one for about two and a half years now, something like that, not sure. I would like him to come visit for real, but what can a girl do besides talk to ducks and herons and horses and entertain herself with children's books? That's me.

Actually, in reality, I'm hyper organized, cautious, and quite practical. All I do is fucking clean. I know, boring.

I'm off to do some studying. Okay, whatever,
C.A. MacConnell


Photo: Dark to Flight

Dark to Flight

Howdy. Last night, I read Tuck Everlasting, the whole book. It's still fantastic, even though I'm a big person technically. Now, not to give anything away, but if I were Winnie, I would've chosen to drink the magic water at seventeen and live forever, so that I could be with Jesse. See, I figure that even though they'd be doomed to live forever, and that would get old, at some point in time, with all that time on their hands, someone would surely come up with an antidote, so they'd have true love until they died together, which would rock. Just my opinion.

I smell like horseshit, and I have scratches on my arms from something, probably hay.

Also, Herman the heron has been alone since as long as I've been going to the pond, but yesterday, he was with Helen the heron. Nice work, Herman.

Moral of these musings:  see what happens when you stick it out.

C.A. MacConnell


Tooth, a Haiku


God's Eyes -- Child
Lost One Baby Tooth;
This Is Fame.

-- C.A. MacConnell


And When Your Heart Burns

When your heart burns, ask yourself, What if this is all there is? Right now, what if all that you have -- where you work, where you live (whether you are single, married, or in between), what car you drive, the car that's in the shop, your bus ticket, your bathtub, this sky, these stars -- what if it is all that you will ever have? What if you'll never be able to fix that hole in the wall? What if you are sitting on millions, but you are alone? What if this is all there is?

And for me...what if there's no book deal, no true love coming, no horse of my own, no cure for my illness? What if this small apartment, my aged cat, my lack of furniture, my barn job that's way below my experience, my few possessions, and my few clothes are all that I will ever have? What if I will have to fight my dark thoughts forever? What if this is it? Would this be all right?


It has to be, because in this moment, this is my reality. I can accept it, or I can feel utterly defeated. Which one will I choose today? Will I choose to live inside a world of frustration, or will I do the best damn job I can while cleaning disgusting feed buckets. Well, my fingernails are black underneath, if that tells you anything. Suit up, show up, do the best job I can. In this moment, that is all I can do.


Dream like a fire tearing through kindling. Dream like a warrior heading home to see the child he's never seen. Dream like a girl sitting in her closet, waiting for that one phone call. Dream like no one has ever dreamt before. Dream you will ride again, and dream that in the show ring, you will kick the ass of anyone you've ever worked for. Dream that motherfucker who told you not to dream will take a cross country trip and learn how to dream himself. When your heart burns, ask it where it wants to go. Dream like a windstorm ripping through the tallest trees. And dream that true love is coming, because magic makes you feel alive, and life is too short to feel any. other. way.

I see stars.

And then make sure the feed buckets are spotless.

C.A. MacConnell

Photo: Ducks Resting

Ducks Resting

C.A. MacConnell


F'n Rad Horse for Sale: B.S. Investment's Nip Tuck


F'n Rad Horse for Sale:  B.S. Investment's Nip Tuck

5 y.o. Quarter horse/Morgan/Welsh Cross stallion, 14'3. A handy, hungry, brave hunter, B.S. Investment's Nip Tuck has been showing successfully in the 3' Large Pony Hunter division on the A-circuit. After having spent the winter licking up choice bran mashes at Wellington in Florida, Nip Tuck flew into Lexington to swallow all entries in the ring at Kentucky Indoors. Always a show stopper, Nip Tuck has proven to trample the class both over fences and on the flat, beating the top movers in the undersaddle classes in the entire country. Tuck has had only two bouts of stomach aches, thyroid issues, and severe colic symptoms per year. Once, good ol' Tuck went straight into the show ring with a twisted intestine and came out making manure like the best of the herd. Another time, after overdosing on grass, Tuck had foundered so badly that his front hooves were horizontal, and his bones were holding him up, and he still trooped into the jumper ring, and he later led the Pony Open Jumper class in Wilmington with a time of 50.4, winning the blue. Occasionally, Tuck has needed an oil and lube or a ride in the trailer to keep him alive, but other than that, he is sweet, gentle, and an extremely easy keeper. This pony only ingests one flake of grass hay per week, so the boarding cost is always at a minimum. No worries if the competition is looking fancy. Once Nip Tuck enters the ring, all of the other ponies suffocate. He is a proven winner through and through. And through. And through...

For more information on B.S. Investment's Nip Tuck, contact our 30-year veteran trainer, Priscilla Isabel Soundbury at 543-TUCK.


Photo: Buckeye Falls

Buckeye Falls

C.A. MacConnell

Milk Carton

Proof of life:
Tangled hair, twisted throw.
The animal and I,
We wake.

Strange captor calls from the

Now, stretching. True, I'm no brow-beauty.
Some other missing girl will
Bring the ransom
She'll be a longer living wall fly.
Some say she'll stick.

Ground coffee, look here, I make the black
Law. I admit, it's a little

Strong, okay.

Call the shepherds. They know
Find the sign,
The lost shoe,
The search team, the one
Phone call,
The right or wrong
Words. Relatives know how to make a
Deal. Someone finds a bad sock,

A trace.

Hero, empty or full, don't forget the suit

C.A. MacConnell


Sign Patrol: Hero Wanted

My barn hand. This is a sign that even a feminist can accept a hero into her life at ANY moment.

C.A. MacConnell

Sign Patrol: Attention, Oversize

This is what I like to call the "obvious sign." Uh, oversize, no shit.

C.A. MacConnell