Allow Me to Introduce Myself:
In typical “bad blogging” style, I will open this up letting everyone know that I have never done this before. Not only have I not done this before, the number of blogs that I have actually committed to reading throughout life is minimal. By minimal I mean that I may have read one…. Post… about dog food, four years ago, that I found somewhere on the Internet… that may or may not technically fit into the “blog” category. I would know better if I knew the actual definition of “blog” – (which I will be looking up before posting this anywhere online) In my mind a blog is a series of short, hopefully entertaining write-ups on a topic, following the author through some type of experience. Anyway, I like to write, and its something I’ve always wanted to take a stab at – so here we go.
Lets start off with a little bit of an introduction!
I’m not sure if you’ll pick this up in my little obsessive literary rants, but I over analyze EVERYTHING. Little things are often quite big deal to me, so you can only image what goes on upstairs when there are big things going on. I like to think I’m a relatively all right person, with compassion and positive energy. I like to do kind little things on the day-to-day… really easy little things like– Smile at strangers, hold doors, round up to the next dollar for charity or pick up some nonthreatening, easily accessible piece of trash in the park… you know, that kind of thing. I believe in peaceful existence, do no evil, be genuinely kind to others, don’t destroy the planet, and do as much good as you possibly can. Simple life.
As I’m sure you know, Hurricane Harvey hit Texas August 25, 2017 causing some of the worst damage in our country’s history to Houston and the surrounding area. BIG THING = immediate over analyzing. I was compelled to put my name on a volunteer website, hoping to find some organization that would pick me up and whisk me away from the increasingly isolating job of running a farm in Delaware County Pennsylvania.
‘Texas… I’ll drive to Texas with my boyfriend, my truck and a pink horse trailer and we will go save ALL THE HORSES!’ The thought breezed through my mind so easily it literally made me laugh out loud at how silly it sounded. ‘Ok, well, I’ll at least put my name on the list,’ figuring the chances of actually pulling off a trip like this realistically were pretty slim. I impulsively signed up with Volunteer Houston that night, then mentioned it to Jon who was equally skeptical yet enthused about the idea. ‘Wait, could this actually work?’ As soon as a little glimmer of optimism slipped in my head, a list of problems immediately arose, and the wildly liberating idea of going on a whimsical fantasy rescue mission slowly began to become unglued.
1) My wonderfully amazing “boyfriend” isn’t really my “boyfriend,” I don’t know if its for lack of emotional availability, fear of commitment or what, but we just cant seem to make things official. For the past year and a half he’s been my prince-charming type of a man who lives down the road. He showed up at my farm one day looking for a stunt rider for a film (which I don’t do but very early agreed) and we’ve been best friends evolved to lovers ever since. It’s been the best love story of my life so I’m running with it! ANYWAY – That could be a whole other blog so we’ll leave this one here for now. But taking a fantasy dream trip with a man whose not really yours could always hold the potential of uprooting some uncomfortable situations. Especially with me involved in the mix.
2) I rarely get off the farm. The owner of the farm where I live and manage is a 86 year old, off-the-boat British woman who lived in England through WWII. Her idea of a vacation is staying at a dinner party until 9PM, and believes that I, as an unmarried, no-kidded 28 year old should have those same standards. I’m lucky if I leave the state once a year and get extremely home sick whenever I do get away. I have a lot to miss too - my dog Blue and his annoying little sister Layla, my big dog of a horse Koda, the other 13 horses on the farm, chickens, goats, donkeys… and yes, even my 86 year old keeper and best friend Jill. There’s a lot to miss when you live with a ton of animals, there’s also a lot to worry about too. Jill always would say “Why go on vacation when you have all of this? This is vacation.” She would of course then follow that up with some insulting comment about how only un-educated, dull minds need vacations for entertainment because they’re too stupid to entertain themselves at home.
3) Money & time. These two unfortunately go hand-in hand. Its very difficult traveling with out cash. Mind you, I’m not broke- but making money in the horse world is not easy, and there is definitely a learning curve making equine bodywork and training into a profitable business. A curve that I am very slowly riding out at the moment. Driving to Texas takes what, 3 days minimum with a truck and trailer. The clock is ticking because lord knows I can probably only get coverage for the farm for about a week, and even that’s pushing it.
4) What the heck am I actually going to do there? On the news you’d see a ton of ranchers with their horses and livestock stranded out in flooded pastures, then some cowboys would show up with their horse on the back of an air boat, they’d wrangle the rouge horses, load them up, and haul them to higher ground. Sounded pretty amazing, but in reality – no way would I be able to do that. No horse, no boat, and it’s been pretty much impossible to navigate around the Houston area the first week or so after the storm. I’d pretty much be somewhere around the Houston area with a little dinky F150 and a two horse little pink Barbie trailer. “Thanks for the help princess but we’re good.”
Forget it. We let the idea sit and went on with life as usual.
About a week and a half after the storm, there began talk of another bad hurricane moving into Florida, Irma – a rapidly developing category 5 hurricane was announced headed straight for the Florida coast. My mind immediately went to the volunteers who would be pulled from Houston over to Florida for the next major hurricane relief aid. Sure enough, I was checking my e-mail that night, and had a response from a lady named Rose, who was in charge of an organization called Friends of North Rosenberg, welcoming us to come and volunteer mucking and stripping drywall from flooded out homes outside of Houston. ‘Hmmm… is this an actual woman talking to me, and where the fuck is North Rosenberg?”
It had been very difficult in the beginning for Houston to organize the influx of volunteers who rushed into the city. They had trouble in the pairing the needed with the needy, so smaller relief organizations like this one popped up to help all of the “forgotten people” team up. This woman was very kind in her e-mails, so I decided to call and speak with her directly.
After a brief chat about the duties and our physical capabilities, the conversation to an abrupt turn - “You just let me know what days you can make it and I’ll put you on the list, we meet at 8:30 am at 503 3rd street, Rosenberg TX. See you then!”
Impulsively I answer, “Sounds good Rose, see you soon!”
WHAT did I just say?
Later on in the barn before a riding lesson, I was chatting with one of the boarders, Dawn, who also happens to be a good friend of mine, about how I had committed to showing up somewhere in Texas with some spontaneous small organization, doing some work in severely damaged, untouched flooded homes that I may… or most likely may not be qualified to do.
“What?” She asked. “When are you going? How are you going to get there? Are you going alone?”
Uhhh… I don’t know. I had no clue. Hearing me attempt to explain the situation made it sound even more impossible.
“I have friends in Texas, they’re in Fulshear, I’m sure you could stay with them!”
After our lesson I went in and Googled “Fulshear Texas,” figuring with my luck it would be on the other side of the state from the woman I spoke with from the volunteer organization. Nope. Dawn’s friends, Michelle and Ryan were… I kid you not… 15 minutes from the headquarters of Friends of North Rosenberg. I got the information, spoke with Michelle, called my Jon, picked a date and booked a flight. DONE. NO driving, just fly right in and get to it.
It was impulsive, improbable, but it was booked. The stars aligned, I saw the opportunity and I went for it. I just had 5 days to organize a farm full of people and figure out a few minor details (which, in retrospect were actually larger details) That’s it. Jon and I will land at Houston international Tuesday September 12, 2017 and figure out what we’ll be doing to help save Houston.
This should make for a good story.
