I know that some of you have noticed that I haven't quite been myself lately. Well, my husband lost his job on the horse farm and it's been weighing heavily on the both of us. As I edit this post, things are ok. Really. But this is what has happened. We've been living on this horse farm for ten years, and my husband and a co-worker who had been here 14 years were both given termination papers on June 27, along with a sad story involving the Thoroughbred racing industry in this state in general. You know, up until this point, neither of us had ever, EVER been terminated from a job. And even though they said it didn't reflect at all on performance and wasn't personal, it really is. And so we were faced with having to start all over somewhere else, which I've decided to look at as an adventure. But in this case, it just seems pretty scary. It's working on my nerves something fierce. There was unemployment insurance to file for, a job to be found that has housing available and where the job will be, when the whole state is suffering in the Thoroughbred racing industry. The following morning found us in the basement, going through all our old things and getting rid of as much as we could part with. We cleaned the basement too, because it was hot outside but cool in the house and especially cool in the basement. Sunday found me in front of the internet, contemplating signing on with Equimax, a search site for equine employment. I also signed on a free service called Equistaff. I made some iced green tea with ginger and lemon because it's a happy drink. And as I sat there, I watched my husband make lists of things to do, and realized how sad he was and that I would give anything for him to be happy and feel productive. There's more to this story that I can't reveal because it involves his health, and it's personal. I've said before in this blog that he's lucky to be alive. Today he doesn't feel so lucky, though. When I tell him that I honestly think that the whole thing is a blessing in disguise, he dismisses me. I glanced onto my laptop screen just now which is dark because I'm using the big 22" Dell flatscreen that my husband gave me as a gift last month. In the dark screen, I see a woman who is much older than me, who looks troubled. I realize that it's me! I'm surprised at how much older I look when I'm not smiling! I chuckle and tell myself that at least my skin is still soft and nice. So there, laptop screen with the sad woman inside. Take that! My husband has gone to Lowe's for garden string and boxes. Let's not even get started on the garden. Oh, my. I pray, too. There's a road I ride the bike on, and it's right down the farm lane. It's lined with sycamore trees, 60 of them on either side. Underneath is a smooth road, and it feels safe there. It's right where I saw the fox the other evening. It's beautiful, it's serene, and it soothes my soul. And when you get to the end of the road, you can see the river that leads into the Chesapeake Bay. This is where I pray while I ride my bike with George trotting at my side. I realize how much I'll miss this road when we leave. I remember a time when we were preparing to move from the first horse farm we'd ever been living upon. I was in my early 20's and it was in Chester County, PA and as I took one of my last walks there with my border collie, Alex, I cried and thought to myself that we'd never find a place as beautiful as this. I was very young and thankfully, I was very wrong. Because every place we've ever lived since that time has been even more beautiful than the last. And hopefully, this time, our luck will hold. I have to believe that. To be continued . . .