WARHORSE eats flowers and inhales pink...

Why WARHORSE?  Where did you get that name?  Why not a sunflower as your company logo?  It's been said that WARHORSE might be too "masculine," too strong for some women... 

WARHORSE isn't about gender. WARHORSE is about the necessity of duality--being aggressive and kind, strong and gentle, working and playing, respect and defiance.

WARHORSE eats flowers for lunch, gallops on rainbows, and inhales all things pink. WARHORSE and I both appreciate warm and fuzzy things, but they don't define us.

 When I look at WARHORSE, I get an injection of steel in my spine,  a dose of buck up and stop complaining, a heavy shove to  ask questions.  

My grandmother was a WARHORSE, and my siblings and I spent lots of time beside her, under her unwavering tutelage.  We got her WARHORSE mojo, somehow passed down from generations of tough blood.  In this pic, she looks pretty traditional. But don't let the dress and cheery disposition fool you.  She didn't just bake cakes and read to her grandchildren.

More often than not, GRANDMOTHER wielded a hoe and a hammer--fearless and defiant. She was relentless while making my sister and brothers clean fish, repair her chicken coop, feed her seedlings in her homemade greenhouse. She showed us the reward of trying to do something right, finishing the list of chores of gathering pine stumps and chopping a fallen red oak; of picking and breaking bushels of string beans and getting them all canned before daylight ends. She gave us the chance to push past fatigue and delay our desperation to drop the wood at our feet and go swimming in the beckoning bass filled pond just below her house.  We felt full of pride when we accomplished the work she put before us.

And years later at 84, this GRANDMOTHER was still a raging WARHORSE, still defiant to the end---as Dylan Thomas' poem shouts: "Do not go gentle into that good night."

As a kid, I needed WARHORSE.  Just to get through college, I got help from other WARHORSES.  Teaching high school students...well, happy mediocrity is a crime, and WARHORSE demanded I challenge myself and my students. And many of them blossomed into WARHORSES.

As I get older, I have to wake up looking for WARHORSE --this morning ritual is required to keep moving. Excuses and distractions out of sight! And, I won't digress into a list budding physical hardships. We all got 'em, don't we?

When I look at flowers and rainbows, they do stir my soul. But to tackle each day, to be able to sleep at night, I got WARHORSE mojo in my bones.