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hunterseat df: Hunter Seat Equitation is a division that is judged on the ability and the style of the rider. The riders can be judged both over fences and on the flat.

Although true, hunters DO eat, at least the skilled ones do, my name derives from the world of horses.

And because the word hunter is in my name, people automatically think I'm a guy. Not even close.

Whenever I meet someone named Hunter I have to bite my tongue to keep from saying "That's my name, too!"
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Here's where I've been

Posted 08-29-2015 at 10:36 PM by hunterseat

I do really appreciate the 5 star rating from the two people who seem to enjoy my posts, even if the are few and far between. That sentence just caused confusion for me but I'm not looking back. Moving also causes confusion and, besides not blogging, I have also not been working out. As my blog disappears into the distance - til now - my jeans are becoming tighter. But I digest...

Stuff happens, life goes on, houses get purchased and restored. Out with the old, in with the not quite as old. She had lived here for 50+ years. As a matter of fact, I was 2 when she and her husband built this house, where they raised their three kids. And it belongs to us, we, who first met about 30 years ago and lost contact until 4 years ago. Thank GOODNESS we found each other again. God had to pull some fast ones to make up for us not catching on to who our perfect mate was all those years ago on the left-coast in the Marine Corps. Who'd a thunk it?

The house isn't even half done but it's coming along. It looks about half done until you go into the basement and/or look around the yard. LOTS more to do. Rome wasn't built in a day.

We took time out to attend Marine Corps graduation at Parris Island, SC. His youngest son is now a Marine! Something happened while I was there: I was honored to hold a seagull in my hands. Now just get over the fact that they are scavengers who might not have the best hygiene. This guy was struggling with a broken wing - I mean the bone was exposed and the more it flapped the more it flipped backwards and forwards. To make matters worse - which hardly seems possible - the poor thing struggled on the blazing hot sand and I knew it would cook. I was distressed when a stupid black bird swooped down to check the progress, awaiting the demise so ... fast forward, don't even think about it. I went to the gift shop and the infuriating person lectured me on the laws of nature, of which I am well aware. Then he promised to call someone - and stared at me as if he didn't plan on calling anyone. Honestly there were families out there who probably didn't need to see a bird suffering a painful death or getting pecked to death by a predator.

With great honor my sweetheart offered to wring its neck. That would have quickly ended the suffering. That's how he meant it. He is a softy but also is fair and just and knows what's best. I declined his offer.

So, as my OTHER step-son, also a Marine, looked on, I gathered the flailing wings in a natural fold against the downy seagull body and lifted. The bird turned his head and bit. It didn't hurt. Birds don't have teeth and this one barely had strength left to turn its head. I moved it up to the shade and laid it down gently. I left it there, not knowing what else to do. Maybe the other birds would leave it alone at least until it shut its eyes for the last time and its spirit flew away. I have to be honest. I had a fleeting image of a one-winged seagull living in my house. Wouldn't be fair to the cat.

Also while there we traveled to Savannah and got food at Bobo's. Right? How can I think of food at a time like this...but hold on. We sat in the truck eating the massive amounts that we paid nearly nothing for - shrimp, crab, corn, sausage, potatoes, crab cake... Something caught my eye and I looked to see a wide eyed cat risking it all to get close to the food. I tossed a piece of sausage and it was grabbed and run away with in a split second. A potato next - whoosh, retreated behind the bushes again but was soon back. A peeled shrimp was eaten just feet from the truck - getting braver and she ate it, tail and all. I held out one more shrimp to see if she'd come close and take it. She snuck up and batted it from my hand snarfing it down, too. That was probably all she needed to inhale but I was so sad that she was so hungry.

We later saw a scared kitten who seemed to have been abandoned. We really considered how we could bring her back with us. We'd flown with animals before. But she needed travel paperwork and a health check. No. We couldn't. It was heart breaking and frustrating.

We are to be stewards of this world and all that's in it. What is wrong with us that we can't take care of ourselves, each other, nor the beasts of the fields? Or the critters by the dumpsters? I have dogs that desperately need baths so I shouldn't throw stones. We need to do better. That's all I'm saying.

So back to the shrinking blue jeans. I have some to wear long johns under in the winter. They're bigger. They fit entirely too well these days. I'm going to get back on the treadmill tomorrow. And I'll try to write a little more frequently. Thanks, you two!
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