The first time I heard the term “horse-poor” I was watching John Wayne in The Sons of Katie Elder. The context made the meaning immediately clear, and I loved the term. Having grown up around horses, I knew just how expensive–and how delightful–they could be. I grew up horse-poor, and I’m grateful. No, we never went on vacations or had fashionable clothes or parties, but I spent my childhood on a farm and had more fun than any other kid ever did.
I think of this because it’s where I am now, too. Horse-poor and loving it.
It’s not how I imagined it, but I’m published and I love it. My books are out there, being read. It’s amazing, humbling, and glorious. And I’m working on more!
I have a great kid, a great friend staying with me, and a great job where I’m (mostly) appreciated. The pay could certainly be better, but I can (usually) pay my bills and sometimes save a bit and splurge a bit, so it’s good enough. I have many more great friends than just the one geographically nearest, too!
She has no heat, no AC, and the windows function grumpily at best, but my good old car is still running. My apartment is small, but it’s pretty and I have a responsive landlord and that is worth a lot. (Anyone remember the Great Ceiling Collapse of a few years back? Preceded by–and caused by!–the Roof Ripped Off Event? A month to fix the roof, then another month to fix the ceiling that fell because of the water LEAKING THROUGH THE UNFIXED ROOF.)
I have books and cats and internet. Squid and candles and more printer paper than most people could use in a lifetime. I have a comfy bed and a pretty comforter and a peaceful bedroom.
Sure I’m exhausted right now and my dishes aren’t done and I’m up past my bedtime. But none of that matters much.
Life is sweet.