Update on Ben & Shera

March 22, 2011

Ben  (January 2011)

Everything went well Friday – the day my Ben went to his new home.  Lundie is a complete doll and I think the world of her.  I really couldn't have picked a better new mommy for my horse.  It was hard, and I miss him, but it doesn't hurt anymore – thank goodness.  I never realized how many times a day I looked at Ben until he wasn't there anymore.

Allan & Shera

The new pup is working out just fine.  I have to watch her around the little kids and the chickens, but she’s been a complete joy.  I’ve learned not to set the egg basket down around her or she’ll steal the eggs out of it!  She also figured out how to get to the treats and started treating herself!  She’s a very happy, very friendly dog, and she’s smart.  But she’s still got some puppy ways and isn’t used to sharing her favorite toys, food, or her personal space.  But she’s learning.  She’s very attached to Allan so maybe now I can “win” Trinity’s heart back, LOL!  Trinity is going to start Basic Obedience soon and now that we have two dogs, so will Shera.  I’m going to designate Allan as Shera’s handler and I’ll be Trinity’s.  This has been fun – having the girls in the house and going places with us.  Sometimes they act so much like children – it’s pretty funny.  J

I'm a new mommy!!

Thursday March 17, 2011
I’m a new mommy again!

I’m getting a 1 year old female reg. shepherd today at 5:00. Week before last I met Katherine when she came out to meet Ben.  After watching her with him I knew that it wasn’t a good match.  They just did not connect.  However, I did find a great horse for Katherine – she got Kaebo from Trisha (my long time friend and neighbor).  So Katherine was happy and so was I – plus I gained a new friend.  Katherine and her family live at Fort Jackson here in Columbia.  She had this female German Shepherd but no yard.  The dog was spending much of the time in a kennel and it was really bothering Katherine.  After coming out to my place she asked if we’d be interested in giving her dog a new home (she knew I was a Shepherd nut).  Allan said, “you decide” and of course, I decided YES!!  Her name is Shera and she’s awesome!  

(left to right) Shera, Allan & cigarette, Trinity

Ben has a new home

I met a very nice prospective buyer named Lundie.  Saturday March 12th she came out to meet Ben.  She spent about 3 hours or so at my house.  I had an instant connection with her.  We went riding thru the woods and down the trails across from my house.  She fell in love with my horse and Ben responded well to her.  He is usually impartial to whoever is handling him, except for my husband who he is a bit wary around.  But Lundie more like me – has that gentle easy way about her and he picked up on that, as I did.

Lundie said she had another very well trained horse to go and look at Sunday and she would decide after that.  The other horse was a black Quarter Horse that was being deer hunted off of, which means he’s trained to stand while shooting a gun off his back – a horse with a lot of hours of training behind him.

She called me Sunday evening and told me that while the other horse was very impressive, she just didn’t feel an emotional connection with him, and she had fallen in love with Ben and his gentle ways.

So, she’s buying him and all of his tack.  She’s exactly the kind of person I was hoping to find for him.  I couldn’t have hand selected someone better.  She and one of her friends are coming up Friday to take him home.  I took the day off.  She has already made arrangements with her husband that if anything ever happens to her, Ben comes back to me.  She wants me to come and visit her as often as I like.  She and her husband don’t have any children (she’s 65) and since she spent so many years teaching college classes, she has “adopted” children all over the place and wants to bring me into the fold! :)

So, I’m very happy for both of them.  She’ll keep in touch with me and tell me stories about Ben.  I’m just sad for myself.  I’m imagining Friday and for awhile thereafter it will be hard for me.  Even in the past when I’ve moved Ben over to a pasture to graze, it killed me not to have him there every day.  He talks to me every morning and evening – really anytime he sees me, even if I’m just standing on the back porch.  And if I go outside and do anything in the yard he follows me from his paddock.  So I’ll miss him terribly.  But on the other hand, he’ll be loved and petted, and most of all – ridden.  It’s what he loves and what he was meant to do.  Plus he’ll be giving Lundie a freedom she’s never experienced, and judging by her character, it will be something she will cherish.  So, I know it’s the right thing to do.  L

What's that stuff in the milk?

We used to have Nubian dairy goats that we milked twice a day.  The routine was to let three goats out of the pen at a time.  They would jump up on the milking stands and eat.  We would wash their milk bags with a mild soap and water solution and then begin milking.  Sometimes the goat would step into the milk pan.  Other people would throw the milk away, but not us.  Momma insisted it could all be strained out.  

After being milked the goat would have Teat Dip (an orange medicated solution) applied to her teats to help prevent her from getting Mastitus.  The milk was then carried into the house, strained and refrigerated.  

It was quite normal to see goat hair, manure, dirt, and little orange specks of Teat Dip solution floating in the milk and settled on the bottom of the jar. My sister and I were forced to drink this milk.  To make it even more of an ordeal, the milk had a "goaty" smell and taste to it.    So we learned to gulp it down quickly while holding our noses.  My mother, always helpful and full of advice said, "Just strain the milk through your teeth!"

Mommy Dearest

 Momma would go into these blind rages.  She'd start punching and hitting me until she beat me down to the floor. Then she'd kick me.  I'd wrap myself in a ball to protect myself, begging her, "please stop mommy, please - I'm sorry" but the crazy fit would continue.  Sometimes I had done something that might warrant this behavior, but sometimes I was snatched out of my bed from a deep sleep and thrown on the floor, waking up to the screaming and beating/kicking rages.  They lasted until she ran out of energy.  When I was younger she'd come back later and apologize to me, and cry, and tell me that it would never happen again.  I loved my mother.  Back then I always forgave her and hugged her and wanted to believe what she said.  But it kept happening.  As I got older the apologies came less often until one day they never came again.

The cuts and bruises healed.  It was the heart scars that lasted over the years.  For a short time when I was nine years old my mother told me I could no longer call her momma; I would have to address her as Mrs. Sigmon.  I was not to speak to any of them at all unless I absolutely had to.  I was not to be around them and had to stay in my room, even eating my meals in there.  There were other rules that I can't remember.  She had a long list of them posted to my bedroom door.  My sister was forbidden to speak to me at all.  I was completely isolated.  I remember most, how the words "Mrs. Sigmon," just wouldn't come out of my throat.  Those words were huge, and painful, and I just couldn't say them without bawling.

More Fond Childhood Memories

This picture brings back memories.  The horse training whip was my mother's preferred weapon of choice in disciplining me.  She used to show it to her friends and brag about beating me with it.  She'd wrap the long nylon tail around the fiberglass pole and beat my bare legs and whatever else she could hit.  Sometimes the ragged tail would come unwrapped from the pole and would wrap around my legs, only to be snatched back off with her next swing.  Those were the most painful beatings I received.  I screamed.... not only from the pain, but also with the desperate hope that maybe someone would hear me and stop her.  Once or twice my neighbor did hear and did attempt to stop her. After these sessions my mother would leave red-faced and panting from exertion.  I'd be on the ground, gasping for breath, my throat raw from screaming and my legs dripping with blood.  

Not All Mothers Love Their Children

My mother 2010

The truth of this has finally been confirmed!  It has only taken 42 years to get a straight answer, but by golly, I finally got one.

Do you know what it’s like to grow up thinking your mother doesn’t love you?  Sure, I realized that my step-father didn’t, but that was okay because he wasn’t my real dad – I wasn’t his real daughter.  As much as I felt that Momma didn’t love me, I questioned myself… it couldn’t possibly be true.  I tortured myself over this for years.  There was that part of me that believed, if only you do this better, or that better, you’ll see – she really does love you.  Lord, I tried so hard, over and over again... only to end up with my heart broken from the pain of her rejection and indifference.  Then there was that other part of me that said, Look – can’t you see that she’s defective?  She doesn’t remember your birthdays, she drives right past your house to see your sister, she doesn’t call to check on you when she finds out you’re in the hospital, she didn’t even tell her best friend of 20 years that she had another daughter.  Hell, as soon as my parents put me out at age 16 they dropped my medical coverage and forgot about me - they never contacted me again.  I moved into 11 different homes in that first year and they didn’t even know about it.  If it hadn’t been for my sister trying to find me and keep in touch they still wouldn't know anything about me.

Little Me at 2 years old

So, anyway, I’m getting off subject.  Hallelujah, I finally got the truth out of my mother and it feels great!  April of 2010 my mother confessed that she didn’t love me and never had, even though she tried.  However, she is proud of how strong of a person I am and how well I’ve turned out.  Amazingly enough, this awful truth brought me peace.  It erased most of the bitterness I’ve been carrying around in my heart for years.  I finally know the truth... I wasn’t imagining things... I can trust my judgment because I was right all along.

Fishing for Boll Weavils

I was strolling thru the kitchen one day and saw my mother intently staring into a boiling pot of elbow macaroni, occasionally dipping something out with a large spoon.   I had a feeling I needed to find out what was going on so I casually asked,

“What ‘cha doing momma?”

“Looking for Boll Weavils,” she replied.

“What’s a Boll Weavil?”

“Wait a minute and I’ll show you…here’s one” she said, proudly displaying this little black beetle on her spoon.  “The Weavils got into the noodles so I’m fishing them out,” she explained.  

I looked into the pot and sure enough, there were little black beetles floating up to the surface as the water churned and boiled.  I started thinking about that.  What if the little bug got stuck inside the elbow macaroni and didn’t come out?

I went to bed early without dinner because I came down with an upset stomach.

Making Biscuits Momma?

I just happened to pass thru the kitchen while my mother was sifting flour for biscuits.  I heard her cuss so I stopped to see why.  She was peering carefully into the metal sifter as she turned the handle.  

“Damn Meal Worms” she muttered and dumped more flour into the sifter.  I glanced around her shoulder into bag of flour and the flour was moving!  Little worms were happily weaving their way up and down and all around in the flour my mother was sifting.  

“There are worms in there!” I exclaimed. 

“Extra Protein,” she commented as she methodically sifted the flour.

I headed toward my room thinking that I really wasn’t hungry after all.  I stopped by my sister’s room and offered up a suggestion:

Don’t eat the biscuits.

Down Home Cooking Momma’s Style:

These are some fond memories I have from childhood and eating from my mother’s table.

Vegetable Soup

fresh Vegetable soup made from our garden

Dinner at our house was a structured event with rules set in stone that were strictly enforced.  No elbows on the table, no drinking before the meal was finished, and no talking unless spoken to, were a few of the rules.

I had almost eaten all of my soup and was near the bottom of the bowl when I noticed something thick and green that looked a little peculiar.  I carefully fished it out and was examining it closely when recognition caused me to jerk back in surprise.  

The boiled Horn Worm hit the table and rolled a couple of times.  My step-father, the Enforcer, sat to the right of me and was on me in a second.  I explained in horror that my bowl of soup had a boiled Horn Worm in it – see right there?  The worm was briefly examined and to my growing horror, I was instructed to finish my soup.  I cried and begged, but it was no use.  Gagging with each bite, and staring into the Enforcer’s hard, cruel gaze, I had to finish my meal.

Purging the Soul

I have two long-winded major parts of my life I want to talk about.  I don't have any children and I think relaying these stories are important.  I had to suffer through too much for them to be simply forgotten.  One is about my life growing up and the way things were in our house.  The other is about what happened to me after my parents kicked me out at age 16.  Both of these things effected my life and helped to shape and create the person I have become.  I can't tackle these stories head on because they are so hard to tell.  So I'll start by slipping sideways into different portions of the story and hopefully will be able one day to go back in and fill in all the important details.  Right now, today, I want to talk about what it was like, from my prospective, growing up in Pelion in the Sigmon Household.

All about Ben

Well, I have finally reached the difficult decision to sell Ben.  I've had Ben for seven years - and he's been wonderful.  He's too good of a horse to just stand in his pen day after day, wistfully looking at the other horses pass by.  I will miss him terribly but I am trying to offset that by finding him the best possible home - hopefully with someone who will want to keep in touch with me.  I made several little video clips of him Saturday, February 26th.  He had not been handled or ridden in about 5 months when this video was taken.  When I say not handled, that doesn't include petting, brushing or putting his insulated blanket on.  Anyway, some of the video is good, some is embarrassing.  I did get pissed at Allan because I thought he was being too impatient with Ben, (he had a time with the bridle) but it all turned out well anyway because it shows Ben's personality and patience with us.  LOVE THIS HORSE!!  Here are the clips in order: