Almond and his fan club.

What’s the difference between a midlife crisis and a midlife achievement?

And does it really matter? They both end in new muscle parked in your yard.

The year has been rough. There's no two ways around it. Recently, our horse, Almond, had a stroke, and we had to say yet another goodbye. So many kids came to pay their respects— Almond was well- loved by the neighborhood Littles. My mom had gotten Almond for my Oldest as she felt that no child should grow up without a horse. Now his pasture was empty except for a couple of lambs and a billy goat.

I felt like the camel who'd just broke his back. It was just one loss too many this year. I couldn't cope. I couldn't think, I couldn't eat—I just cried. I cried over the laundry, over tea, in the swather, and to sleep. My dreams were filled with horses and my sleep was fitful. The days weren't getting better. One evening my husband suggested I may be experiencing a mid- life crisis. “That's ridiculous.” I told him. “It's just been a hard year.”  But that thought niggled in my mind. All night, it kept repeating, 'A mid life crisis.' Death I can't fix. But a mid-life crisis? I've watched enough TV to know that a mid life crisis is easily fixable—it just needs a little horse power. That next morning, while everyone was still asleep, I started looking—nothing serious—I just wanted to see what was out there. What would I want? A Chevelle? A Barracuda? Before long, an hour had passed, and I needed to start the day. But I noticed that while I was still crying, it wasn't the deep despondent tears it had been. As the days went by, I browsed Craigslist and other online sellers. I looked at Shel by's and Chargers, Mustangs and Firebirds—and then I found the one. A sleek, streamlined Nova. But how to get my husband on board? I decided to combat my midlife crises with logic. “Honey,” I began. “You have a classic Trans Am that we went all the way to Florida to get—don't you think I should have a little horse power also? I found the perfect one—in Montana.” Ten days later we fixed the lights on the trailer, before heading out on our all-night trek. We arrived at 4 a.m. and had a few hours to sleep before we met the seller at 7. “ You know,” my husband began, after we loaded up and were on our way home. “Some people buy sports cars during a midlife crisis...” I smiled and would have fluttered my eye lashes if they wouldn't have been so heavy with sleep, “They both have horse power, but mine will run on hay.” It was love at first sight. A 2 year old Belgian draft/quarter horse cross. From the adventure in her eyes to the white N branded onto her flank—she exuded all things Nova. Not only was she my mid-life crisis horse power, the word Nova, originates from Latin, meaning “new,” and symbolizes fresh beginnings and bright starts. . That's just what we all needed. After a year of goodbyes, we need a fresh start, new possibilities and adventure. Turns out I’m not having a midlife crisis, I’m having a mid-life celebration…of a Super Nova.