Roots are never firmly planted.

They can be ripped away in a heart beat.



I don't want to go into it.

Let's just say, I'm counting every night I spend in this house. Each one could be my last.
Our house is more than likely going to get foreclosed.
Where do I turn?
I asked Kasey if, this does happen, if I can keep my horses at her house, even if just for a little bit.
I hate asking favors of other people. Especially if it requires me to burst out into tears over the phone.

As much as I hate this house, this is HOME. I have spent half of my life here. I grew up here.
I lost my best friend in my barn.
I can show you every stump, lump and weed in my pasture.
I can tell you the stories.
I know exactly where my feet are planted at all times.
I know where my roots are.

But now, it feels like something is slowly boring me out of my dirt. I feel like time is ticking slowly, I only have so much time left.

I'm so glad I have blogging to turn to. When I have no one to talk to, at least I can talk to myself. And, then maybe someone will hear the words that I scream in my head over and over.

In better news, I found somebody who is interested in Rebel. She sounds perfect. A little horse obsessed girl, just like I was when looking for my first horse.:)
Oh, and it's raining. Praise God, thank you!!!! Hay was going up to $11 just for a square bale of bermuda.

This beautiful flower has been growing outside my window all summer. It's thorny and no so pleasent to the touch, but definately something small, that I would have taken for granted.