If you get thrown from a horse, you have to get up and get back on, unless you landed on a cactus; then you have to roll around and scream in pain.~ unknown

Wow. Has it really been over a year since I posted anything here?  I'd love to tell you that I was too busy writing the great American Novel, had been traveling the world and experiencing the great wonders, or perhaps returned to my former and still unrequited love of the stage.  I'd love to tell you these things, but the truth is I have been doing ....nothing.

Sure, I've been working more and have taken on added responsibilities at my job. I have a new car, a new computer, and new credit cards......and the monthly payments that come with these new things keeps me running on that hamster wheel.  When I come home, I just want to numb my mind. So I play games, stumble on the Internet, and watch bad television.  It worked perfectly.  I've been completely numbed for over a year.

I fell off the horse and just laid there.

Part of what threw me was a dissatisfaction with the outcome of my larger writing projects.  I started one story, then began another, then got side tracked on a third, then went back to an even older project, then lost 50% of all my work in a computer crash.

I was fed up.  Tired of treading water and not getting anywhere.  But lately, in one of those late night conversations with my husband, I came to realize something.  It is time to finally get up, dust myself off and get back up on that horse.

My problem was in thinking too big.  I needed to focus on short term goals. One story at a time.  One foot in front of the other in a steady path. This is the way to move forward, a slow methodical push and not a spastic dash from one side to the next.

So here we go.  Back on the horse and plodding forward at a steady pace. No whooping and hollering, no spurs digging in, and no rearing back and waving my hat in the air one handed.  I intend on staying one this horse until I cross that finish line.  "Giddy-Up."

“The function of muscle is to pull and not to push, except in the case of the genitals and the tongue.” Leonardo da Vinci

So there we were, sitting on the bed late at night.  My husband looked me deep in the eyes and said "You do me first and then I'll take care of you."

I bit my lower lip.  "Okay.  Let me get the stuff and I'll rub it in for you."  Reaching for the tube of magical ointment that has been a staple in our bedroom for several years now, I carefully popped the cap and squeezed a generous dose out on my hand.  Soon there were moans and groans and things were being rubbed until they felt good- really good!  This is a nightly routine in my house.

I am of course talking about rubbing down aching muscles with BenGay.  What did you think I was talking about?

At times like this I'm reminded of my Great-Great Uncle Albert.  My Grandmother's Uncle and Aunt lived in a trailer next door to my grandparent's house.  I would visit occasionally in the hopes of getting a piece of candy or a pudding cup.  There was a very distinct smell when you entered their home.  It was a mix of menthol and vitamins.  My Great-Great Uncle was a firm believer in the powers of natural medicine, and apparently menthol rub was the most powerful thing there was.  It must have worked well for him, because he hung around for quite a long time.

I didn't understand why they practically marinated in the stuff... until I hit forty.  Now I see a vibrating adjustable bed as a necessity, rather than a luxury.  I make decisions on what to have for dinner by whether it will give me heartburn (or even worse, gas).  I actually find myself struggling to stay up to see the end of late night television and waking up earlier every morning....whether I need to or not. Such are the burdens of old age.

I know, I yammer on and on about getting old.  Well, to quote a wise old sage, "I've never been this old before."

Getting older is something we all do, if were lucky.  Some of us are just better at doing it than others. The reality of not being twenty-something is a little hard to come to grips with at times.  One of those times is when I remind myself of my Great-Great Uncle.  Where ever you are Uncle Albert, I hope they have plenty of  BenGay!