New Year's Eve; Hot, Hot, Hot!

Today the goddess speaks about herself:
New Year's Eve began with sleeping in late, eating yummy oatmeal, and going to yoga with two of my three men. It was the right way to start my day to begin with centering and healing. The intention I set for myself during my yoga practice was to be more focused in my everyday life.
Not a bad start to the day all in all. I then proceeded to spend the rest of the day resting up for the big party. I'm no slouch when it comes to perfect party preparation.
I hadn't really been looking forward to this party, though, until just a few hours before. I'd been a bundle of nerves worrying about having company come, and making sure they had a good time with a bunch of people they didn't know. Plus, I didn't know the people who were hosting the party very well.
I beseeched my husband to let us all go out to a generic hotel/bar party where we would all be on the same footing so that we could solely enjoy each others company. He kept assuring me it would all work out. When our friends called to cancel I was actually relieved. I hate to say that because they are such old and dear friends. It's just how I felt.
It was that evening, as I was getting ready, that I began to look forward to a night out. My illness and cleansing had caused me to shed a few pounds; all in the right places for once. It was fun to pull on pants that hadn't fit in a couple of years, and a very sexy/groovy top that sparkled. I was lookin' hot! My hotness inspired my honey to feel me up as we headed out the door (goddesses love that when it comes from their one and only).
There were many, many people at the party. All of the beautiful Oolala's were there, of course. The five of us were the hottest women at the party, if I do say so myself, and I do because I am an expert in this area. We sparkled. Baby was there when we arrived. She was bejeweled and glowing carrying around her bottle of Jose Cuervo. She was wearing her new kick ass boots with the diamond encrusted boot bracelet. Lita was there too. I had noticed that she'd parked her little car close to the house as I came in. She had blatantly ignored the sign directing everyone to park in the field. It was perfectly understandable considering the hoochy-mama heels she was showing off. She was also wearing a short tight dress with a plunging neckline. Ouch!
I kept looking around for Tita and LaLa as I mingled with the other party guests. The whole house was just a little off balance without all five of us there. When finally she arrived, Tita, of course, looked gorgeous in her long black skirt and very low cut top (I have it on good authority that she was wearing a, 'Now That's a Damn Good Bra!' undergarment as well). Those girls of hers were definitely standing at attention; a fact her date did not miss an opportunity to be distracted by all night long. It was all too tempting for her date because I'm sure I caught a little nuzzlin' on the dance floor. Impossible to resist really.
I was becoming a little concerned about LaLa. We had considered coming together, and I was just a tad concerned. So, I was doubly glad when she walked in the door. The way her top sparkled, and her face glowed I'm guessing there was a little fooling around with her honey before they got out their door because she was looking tre oolala! As I approached her for a kiss, she was already being admired by everyone near the entrance. Finally, with all of the smoking hot Oolala's assembled the party was complete.
I didn't drink and I didn't eat much but, I did a whole lot of mingling and dancing. The evening entertainment began with my honey and another musician jamming for awhile. My man is so sexy when he beats his drum. This impromptu jam session caused a delay in the dance part of the evening however, and some of us were itching to get our groove on. When the musicians moved off of the dance floor Tita got the action going without delay. It was a sister fest of ogle worthy proportions. My man joined us when the feather boa came out. He cannot resist doing his little boa dance. There was even an element of danger to his dance as he was performing right under the ceiling fan (who knew it was dangerous to be tall?) He's no idiot either; he was having the hot women all to himself. Not to be outdone, Lita's husband came out wearing her full length leopard print coat. The host found him a pimp hat, and then the women were all over him. It was a wild night, and this was after the midnight kissing and fireworks! I'm guessing more than a few people got lucky in the wee hours of the New Year. Now, that's hot.
May you have peace, and get your groove on, in the New Year from, The Goddess of Everything

Girl's Day Out!

Today the goddess speaks about herself:

Whichever goddess invented pampering was a sparkling star among geniuses! Today the Babes hit the salon for spa pedicures. We had our delicate goddess tootsies bathed, oiled, massaged and decorated. While we talked of vacations, kids, husbands and colon cleanses our discreet attendents worked their magic. The only way it could have been better is if our chairs had been arranged in a circle. This spa even had cushy pillows! I have to say the chlorinated city water in a styrofoam cup was a little out of place in our plush surroundings but, a goddess needs something to keep her grounded.
So, about those colon cleanses. . . I've actually thought of putting myself through that particular indignity. Oh to be that clean on the inside. The idea has intrigued me ever since my grandmother told me what those little red rubber bags, that hung in everyone's bathroom, were for when I was a kid. "Eif ya git a little backed up, yew can just stick that hose up yer heiny a everthin' comes out nice and neat." (Granny had a little bit of her West Virginia accent left over from her girlhood).
I don't know how the neat part worked exactly but I figured it was just an expression anyway. Nothing I visualized was particularly nice or neat. However, it was one of the longer conversation I ever had with Grandma Iris, and I remember it. She usually would say something along the lines of, "Why don't you go on and bother your mommy with that bizness?"
Now I could understand taking care of a problem in the privacy of your own bathroom but, I was lucky enough to be given a tour of the Naturopath college once. One minute we were in the herb garden, among beautiful healing plants, and the next(without any warning at all) the tour was led into a room with two metal beds with troughs attached on both sides. It was the colonic room, where for an absorbinant fee one could have ones's colon cleansed in an invasive manner. I learned that the 'retrieved contents' were carefully examined by medical students. OK, Yuk! Evidently they find a lot of undissolved vitamins and any number of supplements. I didn't need an explanation to know that we, in the modern world, do not have good digestion.
Every time I take a pill now I say a little prayer to the goddess of digestion to please, please let this pill dissolve and not be stuck in my lower extremities for all eternity.
Back to the spa. . . Well, while Babe number three (that's by chair order) regaled us with her lovely colon cleansing experience, Babe number two seemed pretty grossed out. Maybe not so much grossed out as, hmmm. . . no, she was probably grossed out but, in a mature considerate way. She used the expression, "You've got to be frigging kidding me!" I believe. I was too amused to be completely conscious of every detail of the conversation. My thoughts, between fits of laughter, kept drifting to the three people doing the pampering. What must they hear on a daily basis? They managed so well not to respond. It was truly admirable.
Babe three kept on talking about her wonderful experience with hydro-therapy of the colon. Babe two kept up her interjections of astonishment. But, while I couldn't stop laughing at the conversation in that serene and public environment, I think I was still aware that the rest of the spa was dead silent. I bet there is a rush on the hydro-therapy, colon cleansing thingy place tomorrow! Women with brand new manicures and pedicures stampeding the doors for the ultimate cleanse.
I love my Babes, and I loved my outing with them. I was so happy when we didn't end it in the salon. NO, we didn't try to get a group rate for the ultimate cleanse. We went shopping at Chico's where we get to be a size 2 because whoever owns those stores must be a shining star, genius of a goddess too. Babe three made us try on beautiful tops, and then she secretly paid for them. What a fun and unexpected act of kindness! We were pretty darned excited to walk out with our gifts in size 2. I got to show mine off at a party tonight. Babe two gets to show hers off on television. How cool is that?
I can hardly wait for another girl's day out.
May peace, pampering and good friends be yours from, The Goddess of Everything.

Blame It On Beyonce`

Today the goddess speaks about herself:

It's not really Beyonce's fault. It's merely happenstance that she is involved at all.
I was the one with the brilliant idea of doing a 'cleanse' during my Christmas break. Just three days was all I was going to devote to this Master Cleanse thingy. It was a way to reboot my system back to healthy eating. I was one sick little hard drive the last three weeks before Christmas.
The mass amounts of chocolate and alcohol, bread and cheese, and coffee, and more alcohol that I consumed was world class. I could be in the Guinness Book of World Records for overdoing it.
Once I cozied up in front of my computer to watch missed episodes of Ugly Betty and Grey's Anatomy on ABC's full-stream, with a box of chocolates, I was a goner. The first couple of hours the box was downstairs. I would go down during each commercial break to grab one, or two, or four, and snarf them down. Before I knew it one box was gone. That's when I really let lose and brought the second box upstairs. Forget about exercise or self-control then. I was all in.
When I found myself wandering downstairs during a commercial I felt compelled to bring something back up with me. It didn't take much pondering in front of the open refrigerator for me to decide that I was darn thirsty for a beer. I wish someone had been there to slap me silly.
Months of healthy eating went down the toilet because of a couple of boxes of chocolate.
My students had wanted to gift me with sweets.Didn't they ever notice that I never eat the cupcakes at the birthday parties; or that I rarely have a gummy bear, and then I only eat one clear colored gummy bear when I reward them with gummies? Is this level of observational skill so beyond the scope of six and seven year olds?! Giving me chocolate for a gift must have been some kind of plot. They must have known that I would be lazing about during vacation with nothing better to do than watch old TV episodes on the Internet, and eat bad things!!
Never mind all of that now. After months of healthy eating my body completely went into gimme mode after my binge. The overeating of chocolate was the gateway to eating too much bread and cheese, followed by too much wine, chased down at the beginning of every day by too much coffee. My gut was a roiling, boiling vessel of hell; a lemniscate of bad digestion. I had to regain control!
During one of the few seconds I wasn't blinded in a haze of built up toxins I thought about a summer visitor. A friend of ours had told my husband about a cleanse that had really cleared his head, and made him feel healthier than he had in years. I told myself right then, "I will get back on track!" I chose Christmas eve to go off of coffee, and the day after Christmas to begin the cleanse. After grilling my husband about the ingredients of the elixir our friend solely survived on for ten days I was off and limping. The cleanse turned out to be The Master Cleanse. When I visited their web-site I saw that this was the very same cleanse Beyonce had used to lose weight for 'Dreamgirls'. BONUS! I vaguely remembered her remarking on her grouchiness and need to be in close proximity to the toilet but, I airily waved that memory out of my consciousness. It just seemed that if Beyonce, with her busy schedule and constant demands on her time could do this then, so could I. Also, I only planned to do it for three days not ten.
Day one and two weren't so bad. On day one I was inundated with food images on TV and and the Internet. However, I was stalwart in my resolve. I was also very sleepy. Day two was a much improved experience. I had a boost of energy that allowed me to complete several tasks that I had been putting off of late. All that day I was thinking of extending the cleanse to lose weight like Beyonce. It was such an unbelievable breeze. I even went to the movies, where the smell of popcorn, although tantalizing, did not cause me to consider breaking my fast.
DAY THREE.
Oh man, I didn't want to get up. (There was a ballgame going on in my gut or something equally as active). The call to the throne was just too urgent. Over and over again it called me until I didn't think I had anything left to give. I hadn't even done the chugging of the very expensive French salt mixed with a quart of water yet. Once I got that down though I was vigorously nauseous. What had happened? It had all gone so well the previous two days. This is when my husband told me that our friend hadn't been able to handle the salt water purge. Knocking my head against the wall I went back up to bed. My intent was to have that water come out the end for which it was meant. I had nine months of throwing up with the last kid. If I could learn to hold it back until I rolled down a car window, I could certainly hold back this little tide for a few minutes.
Well, it is later. I did hold that tide back until it was ready to cleanse what it was meant to cleanse. After all I am a pro. I'm just so conflicted now. My belly looks so much smaller. I even got out the tape measure. It is actually smaller around than my chest (a big goal for me lately).
How can I not keep going? If Beyonce can do it why can't I? So what if she had a big, cool musical movie as a carrot? I have my good health as a goal. I'm getting rid of nasty toxins so that my body can accept the good food I will feed it from now on.
Although. . . seven more days of this and I won't have any belly left. I would look amazing! I might even be able to try out for a big, cool musical like Beyonce.
I WANT TO BE AS BOOTYLICIOUS AS BEYONCE!
You see where this has taken me? It's all Beyonce's fault. Damn her bootyliciousness!
May peace and common sense be yours from, The Goddess of Everything
PS, bootylicious is now a word in the English Oxford Dictionary.

Getting Focused

Today the goddess speaks about herself:
We have a friend, L. He is a GSD (Get Shit Done) guy. He sees something that needs doing and he does it. Bam. It's done. I am not a GSD. Not right away anyway. It can take me months, years even to get a project done. Once I start I'm either easily distracted, or so task oriented that I cannot veer from my task to save my life. There's no middle ground. Then, when I get a project done I am utterly exhausted, collapsing in a heap to spend a week in recovery.
I can not figure out why I put some things off for so long. Why? Why? Why? Take my son's senior pictures for instance. We had his pictures taken in August, and at the same time did family photos for Christmas gifts. I brought the proofs home and they have been hanging on the closet door(in a bag) ever since. I can't bring myself to make a selection. We didn't even get our Christmas cards out this year because I couldn't deal with the pictures. What's up with that? It should have been so easy. It wasn't like we were trooping to the portrait studio at the last minute. I can't ask our son to decide because he is spending this year abroad. He picked out the one he wanted in the year book and vamoosed for an island far away. I wish I could go to an island far away.
That's it! I want a rest, a holiday, a retreat, a. . . what did they call it in the original Alfie movie when the doctor sent him to a sanatorium to rest? That's what I need; a doctor authorized rest on an island far away. Preferably a tropical island, not the icy cold one my son chose.
The island is necessary because I actually have to be far away from the responsibilities of every day life. But, what if that is what I have been manufacturing already? The reason I can't get things done is because I have created a private oasis in my mind where my responsibilities are not allowed.
If this is the case then maybe it is time to come home from my mental vacation. I'm starting to see a beacon across the sea. Waaa. Waaaa. Waaaa. (cue foghorn)
Trips over!
Time to get up off of my delectable laurels and toss aside my flowered lei!
I'm going to be a GSD. (for today at least)
Peace and a clear mind be yours from, the goddess of everything.

All I Want For Christmas . . .

Today the goddess speaks about herself:

My Christmas wish list isn't so long as it is time consuming. Each thing on the list is too big to wrap and, not as easy to shop for as say a moderately expensive pair of earrings. (I love jewelry, of course because goddesses do, and I am very easily distracted by sparkling objects). My poor B. would much prefer I change everything on my list to jewelry because my list stops him dead in his tracks. All he wants is for me to be happy. He can see that what I want would benefit us both, and yet, I know he would give anything if he could find one thing on my list at a store, wrap it up in pretty paper and sneak it into my stocking.
The List:
1. Remodel the upstairs bathroom, or at the very least, retile the shower stall so that we can actually take a shower in it.
2. Take out the crumbling tile floor in the kitchen, and replace it with anything that resists water and is not crumbling.
3. Put in a dog fence so that we can leave the house for more than a few hours at a time.
4. Take out the frog pond(swimming pool), and replace with a pretty patio for entertaining.
5. Keep his side of the bedroom clean.
6. Finish the upstairs railing so that we don't have to put ugly bookcases in front of the stairs to keep people from falling to their deaths in our home.
7. Go with me on a European vacation instead of going to Burning Man. It's ok to miss Burning Man one year. Just one! I don't begrudge him Burning Man; I just want to use his vacation time to go to Europe together once. I'll go by myself other times. I acknowledge him as A Burner.
8. Stop collecting so much junk-- Oops, I mean interesting objects with great resale potential, and start giving/throwing it away--Oops, I mean selling it.

Guess what I got for Christmas this year?
Number three on the list. (Cue choir of angels).
Hallelujah!
There is hope for the rest of my list. I will even give up number eight for any one of the other things on my list. I'm flexible. Besides, I also got a rainshower of kisses from my beloved. (I guess goddesses also love and are easily distracted by a shower of kisses).

May peace and gifts that cannot be wrapped be yours from, The Goddess of Everything

Coffee Detox

Today the goddess speaks about herself:
Christmas Eve, when you are having your family over for dinner, is not the day to 'take a break' from coffee. I had that, "Don't talk to me; don't even look at me until I've had my coffee", demeanor all day long and into the night. . . Three cups of ginseng tea helped slightly but, not enough to keep my whole family from hiding out in the other room-- the other room being any room I was not in at the time. Added bonus; with all of that ginseng in me I was also feeling a need for a little sexual servicing-- if ya know what I mean. . . wink, wink, nod, nod. And, I was definitely NOT getting the nod, nod from my sex partner. He was in the middle of cooking all day. That may have had something to do with it. Even a grouchy goddess can usually snap her fingers and have her man in bed (or any available surface really) in seconds flat. Thank God he was cooking because I could barely function. OK, I cleaned the house, finished wrapping gifts, made two kinds of amazing tasting potatoes, and even managed to put my face on. In the past, however, I would also have done the cooking, set the table and greeted everyone with a happy Christmas smile and hug.
People usually love to be around me on the holidays. If I am perfectly honest I can't blame my general bah hum bug attitude on caffeine withdrawal. Something has me off my game. It's been a long time coming and, here it is baby. Watch out! Mid-life crisis here I come.
Honey, turn the coffee pot on-- I'm going to need it to get me through!
Peace and coffee be yours from, The Goddess of Everything

The Stars At Night. . .

Today the goddess speaks about herself:
As I leaned into the fire, and looked up at the night sky, I thought how lucky I am to be able to see so many stars from my own back yard. I was also wishing that B would join me for a cozy chat by the chiminea. The minute we got home though, he had plopped himself down in front of the television to watch the food network. Gearing up for the big game tomorrow I guess; pre-game training for chefs if you will. He's cooking Christmas dinner for ten. And, although I will help, it is his show.
I really wanted to celebrate the completion of our new fence. There is a wonderful new privacy gate on our back porch now. It looks like a barn door. I love it! B never did join me. When the cold finally chased me indoors I found him asleep on the couch. He missed some good stars tonight that's for sure.
Solitary time is interesting. Sometimes I can get bogged down in anxious thoughts. Fortunately, tonight I was thinking about my connections with friends. There are many people that I would like to spend more time with. Taking time to do that is not so simple. I have two groups of girlfriends, two sets of sisters and several people I would like to draw into one of those groups. Each group has people who have a need to be insular. They feel safe if it's kept small. It's true that when I tried to get a big group of women together it got pretty unwieldy--difficult to be intimate in large numbers. Perplexing actually. I left feeling like it had been fun yet unsatisfying.
B and I were talking about that on the way home from a family function tonight. With 20 people to talk to he would just get a conversation going and there would be an interruption. He left feeling like he would have liked more time with each person. Whereas I avoided conversation there. Lacking any kind of party sparkle mood I didn't even observe; merely tried to stay upright. I have been pretty darned sick lately.
The answer, of course, is to invite all of my friends to sit around a big fire under the stars. Something about a fire outside lends itself to instant intimacy. So, as I form my plan of attack for bringing my many groups of friends together, the first thing I need is a bigger fire pit.
Peace and wishes for a warm fire under the stars from, The Goddess of Everything

The Very Grumpy Goddess

Today the goddess speaks about herself:

A very grumpy goddess embarked on a shopping trip way too early in the morning. She was accompanied by her most studly man nymph. They did not have a list. . .
The goddess and the studly man nymph must never go out without a list. It is more than mildly distressing how they enable each other to spend, spend, spend when they go shopping together.
After buying 12 things, 9 of which were not planned for, at the first store (who can resist popping extras into the basket at Cost Plus? she said in a beseeching voice) the very grumpy goddess suggested a stop, at Bob's Red Mill, to make a list over a healthy meal and unlimited free refills of coffee.
Ahhhh. . . The list. The coffee. The sumptuous reuben sandwich. The very grumpy goddess was now only slightly grumpy. The organized pair tra-la-lahed to their next consumer oriented destination; happy in their agreement that everything purchased at Bob's, that was not on any list, was perfectly legal since the list was 'created' there. All purchases made at Bob's were therefore automatically part of the list by association. Next stop--Trader Joe's.
As their golden carriage pulled near to their next destination, the goddess could see that parking would be at a premium, and although she pointed out a perfectly good spot to her manly companion, he assured her there would be a better one if they just waited. Waiting for the perfect spot only created a short line of chariots, with horses chomping at the bit, behind them. Maintaining her stately calm, the goddess ever so sweetly leaned into her patient soul mate and, caressing him with her breath, she crooned,
"I'm getting out here".
With a quick flutter of her long, burnished eyelashes, the goddess sailed out of the chariot, ever so gently closing the door behind her. I wish I could say that the studly man nymph joined her as quickly as possible but, alas the this story is not about happy little elves. After cooling her exquisitely shod heals in the store for twenty minutes the goddess was once again feeling very grumpy. You see, the SMN (studly man nymph) had the list in his pocket. The goddess tried to fill her basket with everything she could remember fr0m the list but, she had hit a wall. Parking her basket between the potted orchids and the bread rack (odd pairing that--read with a british accent) our lovely, forsaken goddess became quite agitated. Where could her SMN be? Had there been an accident in the parking area? Had an alien space ship appeared, hovering over the golden chariot, and whisked it away with her beloved still in it? Hark! A voice floats to her as if on a cloud of orchid dust,
"Hey, do you have everything yet?"
Sweetly, and not with her teeth clenched at all, the goddess turned; her long sable locks sweeping across the cheek of her perfectly intact SMN. Did someone cry out in pain? She thought. No. It must be her wild imagination. There he stood in all his befuddled splendor.
Needless to say, he had stepped into the store next door.
"Was it really so long?"He mildly queried when the goddess reported that he had been missing for twenty minutes. The very grumpy goddess requested the keys and left the SMN to finish the shopping with THE LIST.
A little holiday music, and a smattering of NPR worked their magic on our grumpy gal. By the time the bags were stowed in the back of the chariot the goddess was feeling not so grumpy anymore. They were soon off to visit not one but two New Season's Markets. Everything on the list finally accounted for the studly man nymph gave his goddess a much welcome embrace. Bolstered by the hug, the very tired goddess drug her exquisitely shod heels to her golden chariot and headed into the golden sunset.
The End
Peace and patience be yours, The Goddess of Everything

Sick, Sick, Sick,Sick, Sick!

Today the goddess speaks about herself:

Four days until Christmas and I am sick! This is the fifth day of me being sick(also,the fifth day that I have been on vacation, of course), and today I am sicker than yesterday when I was sicker than the day before. Right now I am hopped up on a combination of painkillers, muscle relaxants and decongestant. ( I'm also in my womanly moon phase --whoopdee frickin' do-- apparently these would have been quintuplets by the ocean of . . . never mind. TMI). Instead of using my altered state to run errands and clean the house, set up the Christmas tree I didn't want and find gifts for two of my bother-in-laws, I am writing about me.
Here I sit in the same ripped up tie-dyed t-shirt I have been wearing; yes, even to bed breaking my own thou shalt not sleep in clothes worn during the day rule. The rule was a self-defense rule since my husband would never change his clothes if he weren't encouraged in that direction-- goddess love him ( and I do). But, here I am breaking my own rule as I am too sick to care. Well, of course, I smell. Being unable to stand myself at this point I will shower and leave the house for more than a 15 minute dog walk. Soon. OK, after my next dose of that orange liquid stuff that tastes like oven cleaner smells. Not that I use oven cleaner; my oven is self-cleaning.
I was supposed to throw a double birthday party for two of the Oolalas tonight. We were going to ring in the solstice with wine, gossip and cigars smoked by the back porch chiminea. Tonight was supposed to be one that I anticipated with enthusiasm, not one where I am hacking on the couch while the girls are partying without me. This stupid illness has left them adrift too. While they can't decide on the restaurant, or what time to gather or if they want to meet at all without their goddess I feel that I have let them down. I really don't need the extra guilt. Guilt does not empower me or make my body heal faster. Also, I ask myself did I really want to throw this party? Did my body succumb to this virus as an excuse to not have the party at my house? Why does it have to be about me? If it weren't about me all of the time would I be sick right now? Can anyone who might be reading this still be more sick of me than I am of myself?
OK, yes. My son leaving for the cabin for the rest of the week, and my beloved staying at his shop all day answer the latter question.
So, I will finally shower and change clothes. I will run those errands and clean the house. I will not do anything about the Christmas tree I didn't want anyway. And, That will be That!
The goddess has spoken.
Peace and good health from, The Goddess of Everything.

My First All About Me

Today the goddess speaks about herself:
It is the day the dog fence gets finished. This is a day of joyous jubilation as it is a day that has been promised and recanted a thousand times over 7 years.
When my beloved was trying to convince me to buy this house, with its 5 acres of dead cars strewn about, and a tatoo parlor in the dining room, I had some conditions.
#1. A fence to keep the dogs in. (Number two was a promise to keep the yard work up and maintain the upkeep of a very large, very unfinished farmhouse but, that is another hundred blogs).
To be fair, a fence was immediately erected. With big equipment and a three man crew I was certain to be made happy. But, NO! What kind of fence did I get? One that kept my dogs from taking off to knock over other people's garbage and chase the school bus? One that kept those very same dogs from getting picked up by the dog catcher, requiring $600 for their release? NO!!! It was a PEREMITER fence. It was a MAN fence. The fence spoke, and it said, "This is my property!" My beloved was so concerned that the next door neighbors would be confused about what was theirs and what was ours that he couldn't sleep until a physical boundry existed. It couldn't keep a horse contained but, it let everyone know where our property line was.
Here I am today, with a fence. It's not the pretty white one I had picked out 6 years ago. It is not even the rustic cedar post fence I had said I would be happy with. It is a very ugly post and wire fence, with big, ugly, ten foot metal gates (just in case we need to drive the tractor through the dog area). The entire yard has been torn up by some weird bulldozer thingy that the fence guys are always driving around but, never really doing anything with. Now the dog area is a mud pit instead of the nice grassy place to keep their paws clean while they run and play. BUT, I have a dog fence, and that's really all that matters.
Peace and Blessings to you from,