I've only got one more Christmas present to buy and instead of feeling invigorated, like I'm headed out on a hunt, I'm rather melancholy. Buying the final present signals that Christmas is pretty much over. Or at least it's winding down. I think I'm feeling this way because this last, straggling gift is nothing glamorous. I'm on my way out the door to buy a two-piece rain suit for Ron.
The other day, when it was pouring rain and Ron and I were outside, schlepping sandbags across the horse trail in an effort to avoid erosion, we both looked at each other and decided we resembled Sissy Spacek and Mel Gibson in the climatic scene from the 1984 film, "The River." The two stars, husband and wife, were fighting the forces of nature to keep their ranchland from being washed away by floods caused by a relentless storm. At least I had on my famed Goretex parka. Mel-- I mean Ron-- was clothed in only a corduroy shirt, jeans and his muck boots.
I gave him that pair of muck boots last Christmas. When he opened the box, he stared at the rubberized shoes, then looked at me and said in an odd tone, "No one's ever given me a pair of muck boots before."
Well, this Christmas he's going to open a box and discover a men's size medium rain suit. And he'll probably say, "No one's ever given me a rain suit before."
But much like the muck boots, he'll end up by wearing the rain suit more often than he'd like. And so it goes when you live your life around horses. Even Christmas gifts are influenced by the amount of time you spend tending to the beasties.