Of Shadbellies and Stars
Hola, everyone! I am writing this from the fabulous home of Math Scholar's momma. We have ensconced ourselves in the "cave," as Nussie (a friend) likes to call it. Soon I will be devouring Michigans and playing Yahtzee with Scholar's family. It feels good to be visiting.
But...
On the drive up, Scholar and I made our plans for 2005, and they are -- how shall I phrase this? -- AMBITIOUS. To the point where, as nice as a vacation is, I'm itching to get it over so I can get to work. 2004 was a transitional year. Scholar and I were on the move, making decisions about the future and resting, preparing. Prep time is over; now we haul ass.
Sis (I think I'll start calling her Rider) and I were talking about our dreams. She went out and bought a Shadbelly with her PetsMart gift certificate. This is a dresscoat that equestrians wear when they are competing (I include a link so you can see what I mean: http://www.equestriancollections.com/eq/editBag.do?s=-445122565&productId=255). Shads are expensive -- we're talking over $700 bucks -- but Rider found herself one on mark-down for $80 (where it was worth nearly $300). And she bought it. And then spent the afternoon with a bad case of buyer's remorse, because her gift certificate could also have purchased blankets, bridles, and a host of other, more practical items that she could use immediately. "Should I have gotten this?" She asked me. "I can't use it now; I'm not ready for it. I really didn't need it."
Of course, the whole time she was arguing with herself, she had the coat on. She was fingering the gold stitching at the hem, looking at herself in the mirror, and smiling. The stars in her eyes were blinding. She was like a kid at Christmas (how appropriate). She cut such a fine figure in that coat, and I told her to shut up about it already. It was a good purchase. A necessary one. I told her to take it back with her, wrap it in tissue and place it in a secure drawer, or maybe a chest. Every once in a while, she should dig it out and put it on. It's a reminder of her Big Dream, and she needs that coat on the rare occasions that she doubts the truth of it.
Same reason Scholar put a picture of Mag above my side of the bed. To remind me who I am. To show me I should trust. Rider spent every penny of that gift certificate on exactly what she should have. She invested in her Stars.
Me too.
But...
On the drive up, Scholar and I made our plans for 2005, and they are -- how shall I phrase this? -- AMBITIOUS. To the point where, as nice as a vacation is, I'm itching to get it over so I can get to work. 2004 was a transitional year. Scholar and I were on the move, making decisions about the future and resting, preparing. Prep time is over; now we haul ass.
Sis (I think I'll start calling her Rider) and I were talking about our dreams. She went out and bought a Shadbelly with her PetsMart gift certificate. This is a dresscoat that equestrians wear when they are competing (I include a link so you can see what I mean: http://www.equestriancollections.com/eq/editBag.do?s=-445122565&productId=255). Shads are expensive -- we're talking over $700 bucks -- but Rider found herself one on mark-down for $80 (where it was worth nearly $300). And she bought it. And then spent the afternoon with a bad case of buyer's remorse, because her gift certificate could also have purchased blankets, bridles, and a host of other, more practical items that she could use immediately. "Should I have gotten this?" She asked me. "I can't use it now; I'm not ready for it. I really didn't need it."
Of course, the whole time she was arguing with herself, she had the coat on. She was fingering the gold stitching at the hem, looking at herself in the mirror, and smiling. The stars in her eyes were blinding. She was like a kid at Christmas (how appropriate). She cut such a fine figure in that coat, and I told her to shut up about it already. It was a good purchase. A necessary one. I told her to take it back with her, wrap it in tissue and place it in a secure drawer, or maybe a chest. Every once in a while, she should dig it out and put it on. It's a reminder of her Big Dream, and she needs that coat on the rare occasions that she doubts the truth of it.
Same reason Scholar put a picture of Mag above my side of the bed. To remind me who I am. To show me I should trust. Rider spent every penny of that gift certificate on exactly what she should have. She invested in her Stars.
Me too.
posted by Tierant at Sunday, December 26, 2004
1 Comments:
A perfect purchase - one to be honored and revered both for it's incredible bargain status (surely a gift of the gods at a price so low, comparatively) and also for its touchstone merits as the symbol of a dream to be, a goal, an aspiration of the highest magnitude. Tell my little sister of heart that I endorse her purchase in the highest degree!
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