I didn’t buy a lottery ticket. I’m in the camp that believes the lottery is a tax on stupidity. (Sorry.) I also look at enough school budgets to know that you’d “support your schools” better by handing that cash directly to your kid’s teacher.
But that didn’t stop me from dreaming. What if I DID win the lottery — with the proverbial ticket-found-in-the-gutter, of course. What would I do?
Here’s what. I would:
Buy the 22 hilly acres next door. Build a hay barn. And a horse barn with four regular stalls, a foaling stall, a grooming aisle, a heated tack room, a warm-water washrack, and a studio upstairs that I would use for writing and guests.
I would cover the round corral. Build an indoor arena. Install all-weather water and lighting for the entire horse compound. Fence the new acreage with safe, beautiful, post-and-rail fencing.
Strike that. I’d have someone else fence the new acreage for me. Because I would be too busy training and conditioning horses and traveling to faraway endurance rides with my shiny new truck and living-quarters trailer. (Naturally, I would have quit my job to focus on the farm.)
I would take riding lessons and attend hoof clinics and buy books and actually have time to read them. I would study equine physiology and treat my horses to massages and explore all those mysterious and expensive options for supportive care.
I would refinish my hardwood floors and hang art on my walls and add on a den with a fireplace and a view of the horses, where I would sit on snowy evenings and watch them munching hay.
I would wake up early to drink coffee and write and observe the horses at dawn, and build my days around them.
But then, I already build my days around them.
I don’t need all the other stuff to do that. They may not have all my time. I can’t afford to give them as much luxury as I’d like. But they have my heart. And I have them.
Without them, none of that other stuff would be any good at all.
I’ve already won the jackpot.