A couple of weeks ago, my niece moved to the U.S. from Norway. She is a U.S. citizen, though she’s lived most of her life in Europe. She’s well educated, speaks excellent English, and knows how to drive on the right side of the road. So you would think that getting a driver's license and buying a car should go smoothly. Not so. Her experience reminded me of that old Belafonte song, “There’s a hole in the bucket.”

First step was to apply for a driver’s license. Can’t do that until you can show proof of insurance. Can’t get insurance on your own until you get something to insure. Because we knew she was planning to move here, we had held onto our old old station wagon when we got a newer car and planned to sell it to her.

So she’s ready for insurance, which, of course, requires a driver’s license. Most companies can’t even give you a quote unless they can type your driver’s license number into the appropriate field on their computer screen. We worked our way around that with a few agents who were able to put in her International license, but come to find out that her 12 years of accident-free driving in Europe doesn’t count for anything here. She has to be rated as an inexperienced driver. That means an insurance premium of nearly $1,000 for six months! And that’s for liability only! After days of calling around and talking with insurance agents, we found  a policy not so punitive, paid the fee, and finally had the proof-of-insurance paper she needed for the DMV.

We headed to the “tag” office (both my husband and I are on the title, so we both had to go to sign it off), assuming that we’d transfer the car into my niece’s name, so she had the title to go with the insurance when she went for her driver’s test. No. It doesn’t work that way. She needs a license before they can register the car. So off we went to the driver’s license bureau.

After filling out a series of papers and showing proof of insurance, she was allowed to take the written test. She passed and was allowed to take the driving exam, and passed with flying colors. License in hand, we headed back to the tag office to transfer the vehicle. That, of course, required that she get a new license plate and we turn in the old one. Good thing we had driven to the DMV in the car we were transferring! Mission accomplished — finally.

Now I know not every interaction involves a  “catch-22,” but many do. I couldn’t help thinking, “What if she didn’t have family? What if she couldn’t spend $1,000 to insure an old beater car? What if she didn’t speak fluent English? What if she’d bought the car from people who didn’t get the paperwork right?”

This experience has reminded me that life is more difficult for many people than one might think at first glance, and I should count my blessings — one of which is to head across the street to feed carrots to a horse who seems eager to see me. No paperwork required.

A long time ago I learned that there are people who drain your batteries and people who charge them. After a difficult experience with someone who drained my batteries, I made up my mind to be a battery charger – to leave people a little better off than when I found them. Often just a kind word or a smile will do it. But sometimes I have to bite my tongue so I don’t say something that may drain their batteries.

That’s not to suggest that I think everyone should be blindly optimistic. But it is to say that we should be aware that even small interactions have an effect on people. I’m always intrigued by the attitude of grocery store checkers. In our town, there’s one checker who is a delight. She is always “in the moment.” She pays attention to what she’s doing and has a pleasant manner. There’s another who I avoid. She has a put-upon expression, and clearly the customers are an annoyance to her. I’m sure she wants the paycheck, but she doesn’t want the job.

What the sour gal doesn’t know is that her day would go a lot better if she was nice to people. Her attitude drains her batteries as well as the batteries of the people she checks out.

When batteries run low, confidence does too. But when we encounter a cheery attitude, confidence builds, like when your horse hears the crunch of a carrot. He perks up, and we do too. Maybe smiles are like carrots.

While the owner had had dreams of this mare becoming a dressage horse, she’s now wondering if the horse will ever be even rideable. We’re hoping for a complete recovery, but whatever comes, the horse does have a home for life, which is an unusual commitment considering that the mare is only three.

But, back to our point. It’s natural to presume that any horse can be tied safely, and I don’t fault this owner for not knowing that. I do want to mention to our readers, however, that the only safeguard when it comes to tying is teaching the horse to yield to pressure — to move forward when he feels pulled on. (If you don’t know how to teach your horse to “tie without trauma,” click here for an article with step-by-step instructions.)

Some people try to get around the problem by tying with baling twine that will break if the horse pulls. At best, that’s a stopgap measure. Sooner or later someone will tie the horse to something that doesn’t break easily. And the old idea of tying the horse to a stout tree and letting him learn on his own is just not safe. If the horse gets startled, it may be the horse’s anatomy that's the first to give.

This information isn't coming from an ivory tower. I personally have a horse whose life has been significantly affected by having had a pulling accident in the barn aisle long before I owned him. Some good basic training would have prevented lots of physical and behavioral problems, and would have saved his prior owner and me considerable expense in rehab and retraining.

So this is one of those things that deserves your attention from the get go. When horses pull back, they can endanger themselves and the lives of the people and animals around them. If you’re not sure that your horse has learned the lesson, read the how-to article, figure out your game plan, and set a date to train. You can slip the preliminary training into your everyday horse handling, but to be sure the horse will be safe to tie, you need a few sessions of serious training. It’s well worth the effort. And then, of course, be sure to put some carrots in your pocket — a reminder that you’re doing something really great for your horse...and for yourself!

Most people would say that I have two choices: whine or do something about it. But there’s a third choice and that’s the route I’m going to take for now — ignore it. When I get the chance, I’ll pull weeds and tidy things up. But I’m not going to try to catch up. This is not the season for planting.

I’m afraid the same thing is happening in my horse life. My horse is boarded across the street from my home, but I haven’t ridden in who knows how long. He’s healthy, well fed, and has plenty of turnout. When I’m in town, I go over and pick his feet, groom him a bit, and put him on a lunge line for a few minutes. I don’t want him to go totally to seed, but I’m not going to feel guilty about not riding him. For me, it’s not the season.

But it has been the season for family and close friends. My brothers and sister and their families all live fairly close together, but I live a distance away, and it’s been years since we’ve had a family reunion. We’re not a big family anymore, so we don’t really have any excuses. I guess more accurately said since I’m the one who hasn’t been “home” in a long time, I don’t have any excuse. But we got together and had a grand time. I had time to talk with each person one-on-one, as well as to enjoy a few hamburgers and laughs with the whole group.

I also visited old friends while I was in town. When you’re apart, you know that you value the friendship, but being together makes it all the more real. I came away reminded that close relationship are always in season, and they need more frequent care than what I’ve given them.

So as I look at the weeds, I smile, glad that I’ve let the garden go in favor of more important things. I’ll wait 'til next year for the flowers. But later this summer, I’ll plant carrots and ride my horse. It will be the season.