Luckiest Girl

Our doubts are traitors 

and make us lose the good we oft might win

by fearing to attempt. -William Shakespeare

For updates from Connecticut, please follow my horsemanship blog. I will try to update it regularly, but I am working on a research paper and have a couple hundred hours of practicum and teaching to do in order to get my certification and get home before Thanksgiving. As for this entry, it might be my last until I return home. 

I have been feeling the need to express something. I feel like the luckiest girl.

When you can golf like him, you can wear pink bling!

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. Ok...I am fond.

I wouldn't be in Connecticut if it wasn't for the support and encouragement of Travis. When I say I could have spent the rest of my life content with just being content, I mean it. But Travis could not let me be just content anymore. He wanted more for me and made me believe that I should want more for me. A few years ago, I would not have even attempted to be here.

It starts with a jolt of awakening in April of 2011, where I returned from a trip in Arizona to confess to Travis through confused, blubbering tears that my life had changed. I made assumptions of his reaction and feared his rejection would cast doubt on what I had experienced. He listened silently as I explained. His first response was, "I believe you."

Looking back at the reason for my job at the now-defunct Service Merchandise in the mid-1990s, it was that I was meant to meet Travis. Only, at the time, I was disappointed that he had a girlfriend. I (unintentionally) returned a vending machine dollar to him at an inopportune moment for his girlfriend and shortly thereafter we were seeing each other.

Initially, he didn't understand my love of horses. I had to tell him that if he was going to have a problem with me having a horse, then I wasn't the right girl for him. I intended to always have a horse in my life. Always. I couldn't play tennis, wasn't very athletic, and was more the bookish type. So a few months later, he proposed to me on my Arab. It must have been his way of telling me that he was prepared to spend his life with a horsechick.

Anyone who knows Travis knows he has an unabashed sense of humor, relentless sarcasm, and "ludicrous speed" wit. His soft side is revealed when you hear him talk to the cat. He has an unbreakable bond with his mother and brother, likes to stay up late with his nephew playing Call of Duty, and lets his niece play rrrrough with him before bedtime. He has broken more bones than I have, but, thankfully, fewer than Evel Knievel. It's amazing that he survived a broken neck with a partial dislocation. In anatomy class this week, I was reminded that 9 years ago (almost to the day), he lived. If the dislocation at C5 would have been complete, he would have suffocated. Instead, he got back on his dirt bike and met us on the road where we were looking for him. He changed his clothes so the doctors wouldn't cut his gear and walked into Bozeman Deaconess Hospital. Two days later, Dr. Stephen Speth fitted Travis with two titanium rods, 5 screws, some wire, and relocated some hip bone fragments for the fusion. To me, this is a miracle. To him, he is immortal.

After another half decade or so, and another half dozen broken bones, he has taken up golf and has immersed himself in the game, shocking everyone (including those who have been playing since he was in diapers) with his "half swing" that can drive a ball over 300 yards down a fairway. He has won an amateur golf tournament. He has made some connections that have allowed him to play some of the best golf courses in California and Nevada, including exclusive private courses.

Travis has opened my eyes to a living, dynamic love that has grown over the past 18 years. He loves me and believes in me more than I can comprehend. I have reveled in our Yahtzee tournaments, where he has challenged me to find my inner-competitor and even roots for me when I am on a roll. He has surprised me with a horse trailer, a 30th birthday party, origami, a helicopter ride, and affection for our animals. He does the laundry. He maintains my trailer before I leave for a trip, even though he asks me to check it weeks before I leave. He changes the oil and rotates tires, changes air filters on my friends' vehicles, repairs busted pipes, and has led the way in remodeling homes in order to provide me with my dream of having a ranch house. Horse property wasn't his dream, so he lives in my dream instead. He tolerates my clutter, annual horsemanship clinic visitors, and lets me dress him for Halloween. He entertains my interest in the enneagram (he's an 8, I'm a 9) and eats my vegetarian dinners without complaining. Usually when he's upset with me, it's because of the problems I inflict on myself.

Over the years, what Travis didn't seem to understand is that no matter how much he tried to push me to look at myself in the mirror, I just couldn't see the same person he saw. I have always seen the flawed human that I am, focusing on those flaws, and vicious self-criticism told me that I was nobody special. I believed the silent voice of an inner demon over the audible voice of my husband who loved me. But this year, Travis has found a way to finally bring to my attention—in a way that I could finally hear—that I have a propensity to succumb to my doubts by failing to try something for fear of failure. I still do it, but he is supporting me so I can try to break that cycle. This, of course, scares me. I don't want to let him down.

He has waited for me: down the aisle at our wedding over 16 years ago, at marathon finish lines, and hospital waiting rooms. He is waiting for me at home, while paying the bills, feeding the dogs and Pichu, watering the braided Pachira "money tree", and letting my little blonde horse out of his muddy stall.

I just wanted to let everyone know how much I love and appreciate you, Travis. Thank you.

Yep. I am pretty sure I am the luckiest girl.

The Yahtzee Experiment - An Introduction right before my journey

Travis is 1 up.

As everyone who knows Travis knows that he is competitive, it doesn't stop at Yahtzee.

We played some in Murrieta when we first got married. And we played the travel version on the plane once.

Last year, I bought Yahtzee. I thought it would be a fun, easy game to have around. The unopened box collected dust last summer until Pat came to visit, and she and I played Yahtzee one afternoon while Travis golfed.

Recently Travis and I began playing. At first, I suggested that we play when Siri and Randy came over for the now semi-regular Champehodge (Champion and Hodges) nights. But Randy is not a fan. I finally commented on how competitive Travis is...and how is it that he is even good at Yahtzee? He gave me a tip. It taught me to strategize a little bit more like him. I took his advice and rolled with it. My scores progressively got better. Noticeable better.

One night, I challeged Travis to a (modified) Yahtzee Tournament. We tied our first Tournament and I was excited to come to the realization that I could possibly compete against Travis at something...even if it's only Yahtzee.

And so began the Yahtzee Experiment.

As of last night, we have played 22 tournaments, which is 126 matches. As of yesterday afternoon, we were tied for wins in 21 tournaments. The rest of the tournaments were tied. Travis had me beat 3 matches in a row during Tournament 22. I did not want to be skunked, so I rallied in Match 4 and won. Then I really rallied in Match 5...I told myself when I won Match 4 that I could tie Tournament 22 and would be leaving with our games all tied up.

I didn't tie the game. Travis pulled of the win in Match 6, with two Yahtzees (including a 1 Yahtzee).

His win following my blistering score of 596 in Match 5. I rolled 4 total Yahtzees (first and second rolls were a 1 Yahtzee and a 5 Yahtzee...then rolled three more later in the Match).

Here are the stats thus far with player averages. On the tied games, it averages both of our scores.



Oh, and I puked last night. And got my first migraine in about 18 months. So that was fun. I am just worried about leaving Travis and the four-legged kids.

I will be updating onehorsemanship on a regular basis so check there.

If I can convince Travis to play FaceTime Yahtzee with me, then the tournaments will resume.

First amateur win - SCGA Crossings Tournament

The Crossings at Carlsbad—a course that gave away three times as many bogies as it did birdies, a course that another player complained should have all their greens bulldozed and leveled, a course that was tough for all who played—turned out to be the course that Travis would take home his first amateur golf tournament trophy.

He won low gross score winner and tie for first net score (but he couldn't win two trophies).

Needless to say he is pretty excited to meet his goal of winning an amateur tournament in 2013. This was his fourth tournament this year.

Congrats, Trav!!

This cup can hold a lot of soda

Geeking on Golf this weekend

Travis was trying to organize some buddies to join him on the links this weekend. One of his good friends, while on speakerphone said, "Dude, it's the masters this weekend. I gotta watch it live."

"Don't live live (that's liv lyve...yes, I get why English is a frustrating subject) or anything." I muttered.

Travis laughed and repeated it.

His friend said he was going to have to think about that one for a bit. Nevertheless, Trav did find a group to play with both yesterday and today, and caught up on the Masters in the evening.

It was this time last year, when golf finally caught my attention.

Bubba Watson's amazing hook shot on the 18th hole, a shot so seemingly impossible, executed impeccably, with Bubba's own humble belief and confidence that it could be done. In an interview this week, he said he likes "creating" shots. It was clear the way he played that shot that he does. Whether or not I knew what I was seeing, I was impressed.


It went down in the history books as one of the greatest shots in Masters history (or maybe in televised golf for that matter). This week, the Golf Channel did a moment-by-moment breakdown in the physics required to actually make the shot happen.

So that's when I realized that Travis is playing a game that is something bigger than glorified croquet. The words you hear golfers use in their interviews: patience, focus, dedication. The gentlemen's sport fascinates me.

Who will win the green jacket today?

Have you signed the pledge?

Recognize anyone in the new SCGA commercial?

Apparently the downside of more people playing golf is the slowing of the pace of play. The reasons are endless, drinking, talking, golf ball after golf ball lost in the hazards.... People who play but have no respect for the game that was once heralded as a gentlemen's sport. "Candy golfers" as a good friend of ours coined them.

So if there are any golf wives out there who wonder why their men are gone for 8-10 hours...tell your men that they need to sign the pledge.

Merry Christmas — Reflecting and hope for the future

It's just a few days away. Merry Christmas everyone! It's cooold up here, with some lingering snow on the ground. The horses are blanketed and Jaeger is cozy on his bed beside me.

2012 has been a phenomenal year. Looking back at things I've blogged about, and some things I didn't share, it's been a good year. Where applicable, I will link to corresponding blog entries.

Travis recovered from his ACL replacement and went back to golf as quickly as possible, dropping his handicap to the single digits. He has played some of the best golf courses, including PGA West and Shadow Creek, and has played in three states this year (CA, NV, UT). While recovering from knee surgery he built a wrought iron front fence and gates that turned out amazing! Now if we can only get the last of the horseshoes we are using to adorn the fence, we will be done. When he wasn't golfing, he course marshaled a century ride in Big Bear this year, did a couple of short speed training runs with me, and rode mountain bikes with Jason on our anniversary trip to Colorado, and took his 52 split window bug to a couple of VW shows. He has not been on a dirt bike in over a year, and has spent 2012 injury free.

VW Jamboree, Irvine August 2012

As for me, I've been riding, running, reading, and writing. This year, my horsemanship ventures took me to Phoenix in March for a Buck Brannaman clinic, to Reno with Alisa in May, and brought Paul Dietz to Big Bear in July. Drifter is every bit the horse I had dreamed he would be, while Jake is still my go-to horse for when I am feeling competitive. He's put me in the money in a few cow sorting jackpots. As for running, I just barely completed the Phoenix marathon in January (on a hilarious trip with Nell and Peggy), ran the Pasadena half marathon in February and, this fall — after finally putting in some decent training runs — I finished the St. George marathon in what was by far the most exhilarating marathon experience. 

Suz and Drifter learning to rope (not great form here, loop way too small - haha!), Paul Dietz clinic Norco, CA 

We took a few trips this year, including a visit to Lompoc in March to golf and relax, a visit to Colorado for our 15th wedding anniversary in June (shamefully not blogged...what an awesome trip hiking and hanging out with Jason and Lou!), St. George Utah in October, and Vegas in October (following the marathon) and November (for a golf tournament). 

To get to this old Crystal, CO mine, you have to take a terrifying, vertigo-inducing dirt road.

Hanging Lake near Glenwood Springs, CO

We also got a boat this summer, used it a few times and sold it this fall. We took Pat and Rusty out on the lake in August, but we had to get towed in when the engine failed. In September, Hans and Samantha came up and Samantha stayed on the swimdeck until sundown, then tried her hand at driving the boat. She liked full throttle circles the best.

Watch out for that boat! Look out, ducks! Don't hit the buoy!

Construction: We have been stuck with major repairs due to a suspicious water leak upon our last tenants' departure from the rental house. Floors and cabinets needed to be replaced. After this last bout of inconsiderate tenants, we are looking to sell. In addition to repairing the rental house, I came home this fall to find Travis dismantling the hall closet and tearing out drywall. He has always disliked the jack-and-jill guest bathroom and decided it was time to convert it, close off access from the guest bedrooms and move entry to the bathroom from the living room, and remodel with slate tile and knotty alder cabinets. It's going to be the nicest room in the house!

New floors and cabinets at rental house

Remodeling guest bathroom at home

As for Christmas and the New Year: we are looking forward to seeing our nephew Trevor and niece Samantha this Christmas. For 2013, we look forward to what is to come and I wish to express my thanks to everyone and everything that has gotten me here. And we hope that all of our friends and family, near and far, have a safe and happy holiday season. 

Merry Christmas everyone!

I will finish this entry with my hope for a kinder future for animals. 

As you are certainly aware: legislation takes a long time. Starting this Christmas season and into 2013, will you please vote (with your wallet)? My request is as simple as deciding where you shop for groceries. It's far overdue that this supposedly civilized country get its meat handling practices under control. What you eat is your decision, but there is absolutely no reason that the meat on your plate should be mistreated when it is still alive. Labels like organic, cage free, or grass fed is not enough. There is a voluntary standard that some meat-packing plants have implemented that go above and beyond the bare-minimum practices set forth by the USDA. These voluntary practices, pioneered by Dr. Temple Grandin, have produced measurable objective criteria to evaluate the well being of the animals, and the best part is there are enough grocers in the country who sell meat from these plants that you can make a difference without inconveniencing your normal routines. If more people begin to demand (via what they purchase) that their food comes from certified humane sources—that means no growth hormones, no deliberate abuse, and less stress for the animals at slaughter—then the rest of the industry will have to change. If you agree to become more cognizant of where your food/meat is coming from, I've done some research for you. 

Where to shop: Certified humane meat can be found in Southern California only at Trader Joes, Vons, and Whole Foods grocery stores (with the exception of a few small market operations). If you don't have a Vons or Traders Joes in your area, stores in other parts of the country that sell certified humane meat include: Safeway, Bi-Lo, Piggly Wiggly, Publix. Or you can find where to shop in your area at certifiedhumane.org.

Thank you for reading...and for your consideration :) ~Suzanne

Sweet Quincy, Rest In Peace

Old man Quincy

When we lived in Temecula, Travis played Snout the Tinker in A Midsummer Night's Dream. One of his lines in a roll-call scene was "Here, Peter Quince."

That line inspired my decision to change Leon's name to Quincy.

We were still living in our tiny cabin on McWhinney in 2001 and Travis had just started working for the city. He was inspecting a deck when a bouncy German Shorthaired Pointer came over to greet him. The owner kicked the dog in the ribs.

"That wasn't necessary." Travis said, shocked at the blatant abuse. "He's not bothering me."

Before Travis left, the dog approached and was kicked again. "If that's the way you treat your dog, I will take him."

And my phone rang. Travis gave me directions to the house so I went to look and knew that we had to take him. We didn't have a fenced yard but within a couple of weeks, we had gotten that covered and Leon had a new name and a new home.

He loved to fetch and swim in the lake, chase ducks and birds, go on hikes and snowshoeing, and even followed me on a couple of horseback rides when we moved to the ranch. But as he aged, he just couldn't tag along anymore.

When we got Jaeger, Quincy brought the whimpering little pup into his own doghouse on the first night. And as Jaeger grew, they still shared a doghouse, cramming their leggy bodies together. They were best friends.

In the last couple of years, Quincy's hips started to go. We put him on supplements like glucosamine and Cetyl-M that really seemed to give him a couple of extra years. More recently, he had been falling. He was slow to get up. I joked around that he needed a walker, but then he would bound around the yard like a puppy. We decided that he would let us know when it was time.

Wednesday night, Quincy was hobbling around. We brought him in by the fire. Thursday morning, he barely was able to get up to go to the bathroom, and somehow managed to pull himself back up on the deck. I let him in our bedroom to lay on a blanket so Tramp and Jaeger wouldn't knock him over.

I had to go check in at work, but left early to spend time with Quincy. He hadn't moved from the blanket. I had to touch him to wake him.

He gave me a little wag but didn't get up.

I took him to the lake so he could watch the ducks and smell the lake air. We sat in the truck and he rested his head to look out the window at the lake he loved to swim in.

And then it was time to go.