Adventures of a Horse Crazed Mind

Sorry...

2012-02-06T00:49:00.001-08:00

I'm really not trying to leave you guys hanging... my DB's brother passed away yesterday so I just havent had time to finish writing the next post in that series. It was just about finished before everything happened so I should get it up within the next day or two.

Marmalade- The History

2012-02-03T19:11:00.001-08:00

Marmalade is 12 year-old AQHA mare owned by the lady I board off of (who is now a good friend). The first year L owned Marm she did not ride much, besides walks around the field and arena and some ground work clinics with a local trainer as they were busy with a move and building a new house. Then, in the Fall of 2010 I moved in and all hell broke loose:) Okay, not really. But by early last year L, Marm, Ella and I were riding together on a consistent basis and had begun venturing further from home and in to more challenging environments. It was at this time that Marm and L's issues came to a head.

What were their issues? Well... it is kinda hard to explain...

It would be oversimplifying things too much to say that she was jiggy, high-headed, hard-mouthed and anxious. And the hardest part has been that she really didnt want to stop.

L is a good little rider. She has soft hands, (in spite of having a horse that wanted to bulldoze her way through everything), a solid seat, and (most importantly) an open mind, plenty of guts and the grit to follow through. The problem was that L was so frustrated with Marm that it had become a battle of wills... or maybe more like an epic war of wills and at that time L didnt have the strategy or ammo to take that bitch down. Whatever the reason or cause, whether it was Marm's baggage from previous owners or lack of riding before L purchased her, or from some physical issue, the end result was that Marm had this resistance that wasnt making for a very pleasant ride. One afternoon L and I were riding, or rather I was riding while Marm and L were on the cusp of waging world war three, when (through gritted teeth) L. asked, "How do I make her stop and slow down?"

At first blush it seemed the issue was as simple as it was common, Marm wanted to push forward with her shoulder and L was pulling her back to gain control which was creating a vicious circle of resistance and hardness in them both. I was all to happy to jump in with some advice. You can go ahead and picture my keen eyes and cocky grin as I puffed up my chest, spit on my palms, rubbed my hands together and jumped in fully expecting to get the problem fixed and finished in no time. Little did I know...

A year later... And the hard truth is that Marm still doesnt want to stop and still wants to plow forward with her shoulder. Now, if I were you I'd be reading this and be thinking, "That's a super simple fix! I can fix that in a few minutes!" No shit Sherlock. That's what I thought.

That first day I truly expected that, with just a little help, L would have Marm in hand in no time. Actually, to be perfectly honest I expected that within about ten minutes she'd be stopping on a dime. I wouldnt have blamed L one bit if she'd gone home that night feeling a little smug in thinking, "Not as easy as it looks, is it, hotshot?!"

It would take me approximately forever to write out every technique we tried and every new idea we've thrown at this problem over the past year but needless to say it was many, varied and not without a few small triumphs or a few epic failures.

Early on we looked for a physical reason. L enlisted the help of her vet, who found that Marm was tender on her front feet but otherwise sound in hips, hocks, back, shoulders, teeth, etc.. Her front feet have been treated and seem to be much better. Marm's saddle did not fit well but luckily we were able to find a good fitting saddle in short order. Marm was also taken to two chiropractors, both of whom found, shockingly, that she did not have any serious issues, tenderness or pain. Marm was started on Recovery EQ just to help her overall well being and her weight is, if anything, on the lean side (she is fed only local hay, no grain and shows no fatty deposits or other signs of IR) For the first six months or so I was dead set on trying to find a physical reason why Marm was so resistant to stopping and why she wanted to jig/mad trot. We found nothing.

To say that this situation has been frustrating is an understatement. Even though I wasnt alone in this, by any means, it still felt like a personal failure. This Fall L and I did a clinic with a really awesome trainer who I honestly thought was going to have Marm figured out in a minute flat. I welcomed the moment she said, "This is how to fix it." and I could slap myself on the forehead and move on. As expected, the trainer seemed to feel she had a simple and quick fix. She threw a highly effective technique at Marm and expected it to work. It did. A little itty bitty bit. I think that the trainer thought it was an issue of timing and that L wasnt getting it right. So this trainer got on Marm. Again I expected that she'd have no problem at all. But that "ah-ha" moment never came. While there is no doubt she made a big impact on gaining control over Marm's shoulder and mind, ultimately, we did not find the root of the problem. We had just found a more effective band-aid.

After that clinic I think L felt really frustrated. She had watched a talented trainer struggle to get through to Marm. I think we both felt like we didnt stand a chance. Obviously, in the perfect world, it would be great to send Marm up to the trainers and hope to get her back fixed but it is hard to justify that expense when Marm is...

...a pretty damn nice mare. She will stop... eventually. She stands well under saddle (she'll happily camp out while we shoot the shit for an hour). She is confident and good minded in new places. She is very respectful on the ground and overall just a GOOD mare who is an absolute pleasure to be around. If you want her to walk she might jog but she isnt going to take off on you. If you want her to jog she'll do a mad trot but you dont have to fight to keep her from loping. Other than the fact that she trots like a bat out of hell, has very little rate and you have to pull her face off to get her to stop once she gets going she's a pretty well broke mare who neck reins, side passes, can turn on her haunches, forehand, and will lope a nice circle (to the right). I never feel scared on her and I trust her. I love Marmy. So does L. In reality her behavior is not that bad... It is hard to describe just what Marm does, how totally locked up her body feels, how rigid in her poll and tight in the jaw she gets and how even though she hasnt galloped off, she is still running away in her mind. It isnt just that her rate within a gait is non- existent, it is how obstinate she is about giving an inch... it is that the overwhelming feeling of resistance within her.

A few months ago L. traded reins. I took over Marm and she took over Ella. Between Christmas and the big dump of snow we had in January I havent been able to ride Marm much. That is not to say we havent made progress. I finally had an "ah-ha" moment on Marm back in December. I always thought that in order to fix things we had to find what was at the core of this problem. I so wish that I could turn back time and start over from the beginning. Every tool we used, our very focus in trying to get Marm in hand did nothing but reinforce and cement the cause of her issue. I think. I hope. We'll see.

What is at the heart of the issue? I'll tell you my best guess, the principle I've focused my whole plan of attack around, next time. Till then, I welcome your guesses:)

Hola, a YEARLING!

2012-01-20T19:26:00.000-08:00

That'd be my wee little Hola on the right (red), a yearling already! Where has the time gone! I am tickled pink with the way this filly is turning out... *deep sigh*... Why is she for sale again? Oh right... responsibility, budget, desire to travel... blah blah blah... The pyramids aren't going anywhere right? I can get another job... I dont have to tell DB...

*taps fingers on desk as she plots*

The Derby Reining Style!

2012-01-11T18:57:00.000-08:00

This isnt new but I had to share...

I love the discipline of reining but I sure wish it all looked like that much FUN!!

Ride Like a Man

2012-01-09T21:42:00.000-08:00

Between the weather and the madness of the holiday season I haven't been able to ride much this past month. I am hoping that this week I can get back in the saddle and spend some quality time getting Ella (and me) back in to shape. Over the couple months I am going to be working on cleaning up and fine tuning the basics of the foundation we worked so hard to establish last year. Ella has a great stop, she guides well, she is light in the face, I can move her shoulder and hips around, and her transitions are smooth. She has buttons. The problem is Ella has a habit of dogging it, or rather, I've created an environment where she lacks motivation, enthusiasm and try. Picture a child being asked to clean his room- he protests a little but eventually sloughs down the hall, dragging his feet, his hands hanging limply at his sides, a pout on his face and murmured "I dont want to" on his lips. That's Ella right now when I ask her to roll back, bored and uninterested. I think the reason for this is two fold. First, because I haven't given her a job. More than ever I believe a horse needs a job they understand to be happy. A happy horse will do what we ask with try, heart and enthusiasm. Secondly, because I don't ride her like a man.

No offense ladies, but we nag. We say "Don't do that!" ... and when they don't stop we get annoyed and it becomes "I saaaaid DON'T do that!" ... and of course that doesnt work so we go, *yank jerk* "OMG will you stop f-in flippin' flappin' doing that for finangians sake!!" (or something like that). And then finally, after getting more and more frustrated we go *smack* .... and they are like "Ooooh! Why didnt you just say so?".... To make matters worse the next task becomes a fight because we're still pissed off and royally annoyed about what they were doing before. It's a vicious cycle.

Men (okay not all men but hypothetical "men") dont do that. They say... nothing... they just go *slap slap* and merrily on their way. I haven't resolved to slap my horse more. I've just resolved to not bitch and nag. I'm only going to ask once. Then I'm going to make it happen. And then I'm going to calmly and happily move on to the next task like nothing happened. I'm going to ride like a man. Not the type of man who gets mad or mean or overly aggressive. I'm talking about the proverbial man's man, the quiet soft spoken horseman that quietly and unassumingly gets the job done with a firm but kind hand... that dark haired, cool, confident man that knows how to handle horses and woman in kind... the type that will grab a naughty woman hard by the shoulders and crush her to his chest, who kisses her hungrily... his course stubble rough against her velvet lips... he knows what to do... slips a hand behind her neck, knots her hair in to his fist and twists, thrusting her backwards to expose the pale skin of a long and delicate neck. He nips her, gently at first, teeth skimming her collar bone... then harder as he works his way up to the curls behind her ear. His hot breath licks flames beneath her skin. Her flush rises. In to her ear his voice growls his demand, so deep and husky with want...

*cough*

...

I dont know what just happened.

Sorry.

My Bob's Saddle For Sale- SOLD

2012-01-04T21:15:00.000-08:00

This is the forth Bob's Custom saddle I've owned. I've been forced to sell every one of my beloved Bob's for reasons that had nothing to do with these lovely saddles. The first, a Bob Avila, I sold as I didn't have a horse and had decided I was "getting out of horses for good!" (that lasted all of like three months). I loved that saddle. The second I bought was a Randy Paul in a light oak. Beautiful. I sold because my old horse had a bulging shoulder and needed a treeless to accommodate. The third, my favorite, the love of my life, the one that got away. I sold that one for funds to go to Europe. I miss it every day. Then there is this current beauty... *deep sigh*

I loved this saddle from the moment I saw it. I had dreams of riding off in to the sunset in that big ol' plush seat. This is the first 17" saddle I've had and man, it's like a freakin' Cadillac... I'd love to say that this saddle and I have spent some quality time together but the sad sad sad fact is that we've only had one single solitary ride. One! Uno! I brought it home from the store, tried it on Ella, realized that it didnt have a chance in hell of fitting her ridiculously wide, round, flat and gigantor frame (Who let me buy a halter bred horse anyways?) and just about cried. I tried it on Marm (who is a 15HH stock horse type) and of course it fit... I got on Marm and took it for a tour around the paddock. OMG... I could just park myself in that saddle and go to sleep Lazy Boy style. I just haaaaad to keep it. I justified it by saying that I would just hang on to it for when Abby came home (she isnt freak-of-nature wide like Ella). So I put it away in it's bag and took it home where it has stayed since... since... March 29th 2011.

Now, I would still LOVE to keep this saddle. But I've decided to trade out this thing you put on a horse for something that you put a horse in *wink*

The only flaw on this saddle is a cut in the leather of the pommel. This cosmetic flaw made this saddle go from a $3000+ item to something I could afford. The saddle was also used in a few demos by the tack store that I bought it from so has a little wear (like where the buckles touch leather) but otherwise it is mint. The skirt is a slightly lighter color than the upper (I love that look) and it has the cut aways in the skirt for a close contact feel.

It is a Full QH Bars, a plush smooth padded seat and comes with matching back cinch. This is a 17" cutting saddle on a cutting tree but I planned on using it for everything from penning to reining, cowhorse and trails.

I would like to get it sold asap so have it priced at $1995 firm (us funds)

I *heart* Bob's Custom Saddles

I am trying to show you the cut away skirt in this picture (not my recycle bin:)

(sorry for the weird angle on this shot... was trying to hold the tape and take photo at the same time:)

(see cut in leather above)

(that white line by the Bob's stamp is not a scratch... maybe a hair or something on the lens)

A Case of the Jiggles

2012-01-03T21:08:00.000-08:00

I watched this video and thought, "Wow! Looks like someone has a serious case of the jiggles!" Then I heard this small voice inside say, "... Pot... Kettle...Black... Seriously."

Spring is around the corner. Looks like Ella and I have our work cut out for us! Oh, and yes, her name is Ella. Ella Blue to be exact. The decision was finally taken out of my hands by L.. It was necessary. I was totally out of control. As L. and Ella have a very special relationship I felt she should do the honors (and that way I couldnt take this one back.) L. picked the name Ella Blue. I love it. It works. And best of all, I cant change it. *wipes brow* Thank Heaven!

Ninja

2012-01-02T22:18:00.000-08:00

I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and New Year! This coming year is a biggie for me... it is kind of split in two because in seven months I turn thirty... So I have seven months before I leave my twenties behind me for good... before I turn an age that makes me feel so... so... not a kid anymore. I have seven months left. I better make it count.

My goals are:

To travel somewhere by myself, depending on time and money I am hoping for Scotland but maybe just a road trip to Montana.

I want to haul my own horse in my own trailer to a place I've always wanted to ride.

I want to show my horse even if it is just at a local show.

I want to be become a Ninja. Dont ask. It's complicated.

I also want to take up yoga more seriously and become an actual yogi. That too is complicated.

And... well, I want to go to a bar and go dancing and get drunk. Which kinda seems the antithisis of the above mentioned goals... but I think I should do that at least once in my twenties. I said I had goals... I didnt say they were lofty... well besides the Ninja thing.

Hard Workin' Girls...

2011-12-10T22:37:00.000-08:00

Which is Worse...

2011-11-24T00:41:00.000-08:00

Which is worse...

Not realizing that the toilet seat was left up...

Or not realizing that the toilet lid was left down...

Equally shocking? Especially on a particularily cold evening such as this...I think so.

Words to the Wise: My Mother

2011-11-15T22:29:00.001-08:00

This post is a message to my Mom. Why speak to her through my blog? Because I was pretty sure she'd kill me if I took an ad out in the local paper. Can you even do that these days? I don't know. What I do know is that my Mom needs to hear what I have to say and I want to make sure she hears it loud and clear. So, Mom, listen up!

Mom, you are a truly exceptional business woman. You are to be admired for demonstrating those qualities that define a consummate professional.

More than anything, and most importantly you are:

HONEST:
1a : free from fraud or deception : legitimate, truthful b : genuine, real c : humble, plain
2a : reputable, respectable b chiefly British : good, worthy
3: creditable, praiseworthy
4a : marked by integrity b : marked by free, forthright, and sincere expression : frank c : innocent, simple

You're integrity is beyond reproach. I have never known you to cheat a client, not for a dollar, not for a minute.

You give everything you have and take less than you are due.

You have never not paid that which was owed.

You genuinely care about your clients. You don't stop at just making sure your clients are happy and satisfied, you try to out due their highest expectations.

You offer your clients more than just professional services, you offer support and compassion. You are quick to lend a sympathetic ear, a helping hand, and the warmth of your heart.

You aim for perfection and when you fall short, as humans do, you make it up by a mile. Mom, you go above and beyond.

You are reliable. Your clients can count on you to show up and deliver on what you promised. You loose sleep at night over a mistake, own up to your errors and do whatever is needed to make it right.

Mom you are not only skilled at your profession but truly talented. You create beauty. You do a great job.

You have a tremendous amount of try. You work hard. You work long hours. You don't quit.

The quality of your work is always evident in the finished product. You do beautiful work

You give credit where credit is due and show respect for your contractors, and coworkers.

What more can you ask for in a professional? Your work, services and products are exemplary. You are honest in your services and in billing. You fix your mistakes. You are a pleasure to work with. You are reliable and trustworthy.

I love you. I am proud of you. I admire you.

The Sound of My Youth

2011-11-10T21:50:00.000-08:00

I have been so busy this past week I havent had time to blog or even ride! Rain or shine, tomorrow I am getting on my pony, Mae! Yes! The name has stuck! I still have to think about it every time I say it and occasionally I slip up and call her P____ but I always correct myself...so I guess you could say it has stuck... Umm... well... besides.... Okay, okay, I might have had a little trouble with the last part of the name... Mae Mobely was a mouthful! I didnt really change it, change it... I more just let it come naturally... Oh for Pete's sake! I cant lie... I changed it! I had to give up on Mae Mobely. Mobely just wont roll off my tounge! So I tried Mae-Boley (bow-lee) and I loved that but what came out, every time, was Mae Belle. Mae Belle. Mae Belle. And the damn thing stuck. So be it.

What does all of this have to do with "Songs of my Youth"? Nothing. Absolutely nothing at all. But yesterday I spent the day working at a job site where I shared a space with a middle aged carpenter with a serious love of old rock. I would kill to get my hands on his songlist! Oh man! It was just classic after classic. We listened to a Tom Petty, Queen, Fleetwood Mac, Bob Seger, Bob Seger and more Bob Seger. It was awesome!

When Queen's "Under Pressure" came on I commented to my Mom that never in our ten year relationship has the generational gap (18 years) between DB and I been apparent than when he first played me that classic ol' Queen (and David Bowie) song and all I could hear was Ice Ice Baby.

However yesterday, when those first trademark riffs of Under Pressure began, and I found myself humming "Um boom ba bay, Um boom ba bay, Ba ba boom ba be be... Pressure! Pushing down on me, pushing down on you..." ... I knew that some part of my youth had died, I had officially lost touch with that young girl I once was, the one who, on hearing a beat like that, would cock her head to the side, purse her lips, point her finger gun in the sky and let loose some gangsta' swaggar Vanilla Ice style "Yo VIP! Let's kick it!"

Queen and David Bowie

Vanilla Ice- Ice Ice Baby

Meet My Horse, ____?!

2011-11-01T17:42:00.000-07:00

(note: My Rome Part 2 post was buried benieth all of the Instagram pictures I posted. So here is a link to that if you were looking for it:)

This is Mae Mobley. Why does she look familiar? Because her name used to be Princess. Did you just roll your eyes? I saw you roll your eyes! I know what you're thinking... and you'd be right, I am crazy. And this name thing is ridiculous! But I can explain.... you see...

I did a whole post about how my favorite movie of all time (Out of Africa) inspired me to accept that her name was Princess, remember? I wrote some psycho babble about how, like Karen, I had learned that there is power in accepting that some are beyond our control. I accepted her name... but thought I could call her Cessa, or Pea or some variant of Princess. But plain ol' Princess stuck hard and fast. I couldnt call her anything but.

For a while it didn't seem to matter as we mainly stuck around home. But then we started hauling out in to that big bad world and I realized that I'd be forced to introduce my mare, like, to other people *gasp* Last week L. and I hauled out to an indoor arena. Inevitably I had to introduce my mare to the other riders. On Saturday, my mare and I did a clinic. Naturally the clinic began with everyone introducing themselves and their horses to the instructor. I was forced to say, "My name is Chelsi and this is my mare Princess." That made for an interesting first impression. The week before we had a new boarder come to our barn and I was forced to let him in on my dirty little secret too. Finally I decided that I have enough social anxiety as it is... I'd had enough. When L., (the lady who boards my pony, who is also a friend) set out for a ride Monday morning I told her that Saturday's clinic had been the last straw... The name Princess had to go.

She just roller her eyes and said, "Sure. Sure."

I didn't blame her. She'd heard this enough times before. Everyone had.

"No, I'm serious." I said, "Saturday was the last time I am going to introduce my horse as Princess. I refuse to do it one more *#&$ing time."

L. thought about it for a minute and then laid down the rules. I need rules. I like rules. Rules make me feel all safe and secure. Not really. Usually rules do nothing but inspire my rebellious tendencies... but this time I knew they were needed.

The rules were:

1. This was my last kick at the can. This time when I picked a name, that was it. Final answer. There would be no going back. L. would continue calling her that name whether I like it or not.

2. I had to decide on this name by the end of the ride. She said that I've known the horse for a year and I've tried on every name under the sun. If I couldn't come up a name in one hour I wasnt going to, ever.

I looked at the long stretch of trail before me. I thought about it for a minute. Then I accepted her terms. I barely spoke a word for the rest of the ride. I had a lot of thinkin' to do.

The first thing I decided was that the name had to start with a Ma sound as I most commonly call her Mare (I call most mares "Mare".) If I picked a "Ma" sounding word I would already be ahead of the game. Macy, Marcy, Marci, Matilda, Madaline, Madison, Maggie, Makie, Mamme... I went through the letters of the alphabet and stuck them all behind Ma. I kept coming back to May. I liked May. May is the middle name of my dear friend Barb. I couldnt go wrong. The only problem was that I dont like one syllable names. I have to have a name that I can coo. A name that sings. So then I stuck letters on the end of May... Maylee, Maycee, Mayla, Mayra, Mayfa, Mayda. May-bee. May-bee... I just immediately loved Maybee. The sound felt right for my horse. But Maybe is no kind of name.

By this time I was running out of trail. I had just a few minutes left. I tried everything I could and nothing was sticking besides May-be. I was starting to panic. I though I could always just go back to Lilly (one of the previous winners). Lilly's a good solid name. May. May-bee...

I had run out of time. We'd hit the end of the trail. L. looked at me. I gave her a sheepish grin and looked away. We started down the road to home. I thought, "Oh! She's going to give me more time! Thank God!" But no. A minute later L. asks,"Well?"

"Okay!" I said.

"Yeeesssss?!?" She says with a big smile.

"I have half of a name." I paused. Twisted my lips. Thought hard. May-be.... May-be. May-boley (bow-lee). Maybolee! "One sec!" I said to L. and pulled out my iphone. I looked up "The Help", clicked open wikipedia and read the plot summery. There it was! Mae Mobley Leeflot! Aibileen's last white baby.

Now, I LOOOOOOVED the book "The Help". I also liked the movie. But the book was really something special. A beautifully written story set in the early 1960s in Jackson Mississipi, The Help is narrated by three different women- Aibileen and Mini, two black woman who spent their adult lives working as maids raising white people's babies and Skeeter, a young white woman who asks Aibileen and Mini to let her write their stories. In that book there is a little girl named Mae Mobley who is cared for by Aibileen. Mae Mobley is not a pretty child and unfortunately her Momma, a pretty society woman, knows it. That mother just couldnt seem to love her child. Aibileen, Mae Mobely's caregiver is the only person in the world who knows what is going to happen if that baby doesnt learn that she has something to offer the world. So every morning Aibileen sits Mae Mobely on her lap and together they say, "You is kind. You is smart. You is important." I love those words.

"Mae Mobley" I said aloud.

"What?!?" Laurie looks at me like I'm smokin' something.

"Mae Mobley" The name didnt quite sound right. I thought of it as May-bow-lee not May Mobley but I just LOVED idea of naming her after that cute little girl. It just FIT. It fit because I had struggled to love this mare. I hate to admit it, but I really struggled to get over the way she looked. I didnt find her pretty. Worse, I thought she was a little ugly. I also didnt appreciate all she had to offer. This Saturday we did a clinic with a lady who is a reining and cowhorse trainer (as well as natural horsemanship.) I am going to write more about this clinic later but for now will just say that I found out that Mae has a HELL OF A LOT more atheltism than I thought and she can even use that big old butt too (I didnt think she knew it was back there!) The mare I thought would neeeever make a reiner, might become a competitive amateur reiner with a really nice stop and snappy rollbacks to boot! I underestimated her. I underestimated her because I didnt value her, right from the start. Mae Mobley is a weird name. But it fits. So that afternoon I told L. that Princess' new name was, "Mae. Mae Mobley." And if someone thinks it is a stupid name then so be it. At least it would be a stupid name that I gave her... a name that I cant hear without thinking, "You is kind. You is Smart. You is important." Mae needs to hear those words. And some days, so do I.

My Love

2011-10-31T21:07:00.001-07:00

My Love, a photo by West Coast Canadian on Flickr.

Bros'

2011-10-31T21:06:00.001-07:00

Bros', a photo by West Coast Canadian on Flickr.

What?!? What'ya lookin' at?!?

2011-10-31T21:05:00.001-07:00

What?!? What'ya lookin' at?!?, a photo by West Coast Canadian on Flickr.

Ominous Skies

2011-10-31T21:02:00.003-07:00

Ominous Skies, a photo by West Coast Canadian on Flickr.

Black Cat

2011-10-31T21:02:00.001-07:00

Black Cat, a photo by West Coast Canadian on Flickr.

Hawky'n LuLu

2011-10-31T21:01:00.001-07:00

Hawky'n LuLu, a photo by West Coast Canadian on Flickr.

Bitty-Boo

2011-10-31T20:59:00.001-07:00

Bitty-Boo, a photo by West Coast Canadian on Flickr.

Hunter-dog Pout

2011-10-31T20:58:00.001-07:00

Hunter-dog Pout, a photo by West Coast Canadian on Flickr.

Zombie Dog Snuggle

2011-10-31T20:57:00.001-07:00

Snuggled, a photo by West Coast Canadian on Flickr.

Blues

2011-10-31T20:56:00.001-07:00

Blues, a photo by West Coast Canadian on Flickr.

Mae Mobley

2011-10-31T20:54:00.001-07:00

Mae Mobley, a photo by West Coast Canadian on Flickr.

For Love of the Ball

2011-10-31T20:53:00.001-07:00

For Love of the Ball, a photo by West Coast Canadian on Flickr.

Frisians

2011-10-31T20:52:00.001-07:00

Frisians, a photo by West Coast Canadian on Flickr.

Which One of These Does Not Fit?

2011-10-31T20:51:00.001-07:00

Which One of These Does Not Fit?, a photo by West Coast Canadian on Flickr.

Birds of a Feather

2011-10-31T20:49:00.001-07:00

Birds of a Feather, a photo by West Coast Canadian on Flickr.

Pretty puppy'o mine

2011-10-31T20:48:00.001-07:00

Pretty puppy'o mine, a photo by West Coast Canadian on Flickr.

Rome- Part 2

2011-10-26T19:40:00.000-07:00

Did you know that almost all pro athletes use visualization techniques to mentally rehearse their winning strategy? Well, I had visualized walking out of the airport in Rome, turning left and walking to the bus depot where I would get on the white bus with Terravision on the side. That bus would take me directly (no stops) to the Southwestern side of the Terminal. There I would get off the bus, walk down the length of the terminal and directly in front of me would be the street on which I would find the hotel reception. I'd walk one block down until I see a yellow wall with a black gate. Inside that gate I'd find my mother and sister waiting for me with open arms. I even looked at my route through Google street view. My strategy was golden. Getting on the blue bus threw my whole game.

So there I am sitting on the bus, right at the front because that's the way I roll and I have a sweeping view of the road ahead. Mistake numero uno! In Rome the rules of the road are more like casual suggestions. This I expected. I expected to see skinny men on little scooters talking on their cell phones, madly gesturing with both hands, correcting the set of the handle bars only at the last possible moment, not a second before he would be sent careening in to the semi-sized bus just inches away. Cars dashing in and out of traffic with no consideration for their relativity to other vehicles; Some cars going twenty miles and hour, some doing a hundred and twenty. I think I could have handled seeing it all... if only... Oh, if only!.... my bus driver were to actually look at the road, on occasion. Instead he looked left (for a few minutes), then right (for a few minutes), only catching sight of the road as his head turned from one side to the other. Sometimes he drove in the left lane, sometimes in the right, mostly somewhere in between. At one point he became so preoccupied with a lady in the car beside us I was able to count to sixty without seeing him so much as glance at the road in front of him. I didn't see much of the long stretching fields and farms of the Italian countryside on the way in to Rome. I had my eyes closed.

Note: On my drive in to Rome and actually on the flight in to Fumicino I was shocked to see that the area was almost all rural. Even just outside of the city limits of Rome the land turns to agricultural farms with no buffer of suburbs in between.

When I next dared to look we were traveling through the sprawl of the working man's Rome: tired and worn with sagging apartment buildings, crammed together cheek for jowl, their terracotta walls, tall and narrow shuttered windows and cute little balconies stripped of beauty by artless graffiti, air conditioning units and stacks of random junk. Car dealerships, gas stations, small neighborhood grocers- familiar businesses in a foreign landscape- stray dogs and cats lounging in the shadows, garbage in the gutters and not so much as a shrub for landscaping. Mid morning and there were men gathered outside their little shops, gossiping; Dark haired woman, sternly dressed, regally smoking on cafe patios. Unlike London, this city felt far from home. I loved it.

As we drove on, the city rose up around us. The buildings became taller, sturdier, wearing their age like a beautiful patina. I became so enamored with the changing landscape I almost didn't notice at first that the bus had come to a stop where there was no light or stop sign (which is not to say that the driver had actually stopped at such previous signs). The bus driver picked up the intercom handset. I am pretty sure he said"Santa initiliani lebititalian... Mario Botali". At least that is what I got. To my horror about 6 of the 20 people on the bus stood up. They picked up their luggage. They got off the bus. Amongst them, the American couple. My heart immediately started pounding and I looked frantically to the streets on either side of me for some familiar landmark. Is this my stop? Should I get off? No one mentioned a stop! When is my stop? What the hell did that bus driver just say? I stand up. Panicked. I intend to ask someone what the HELL is going on!!! but just then the bus lunges forward and I'm thrown back in to my seat. My mind races. I convince myself that when the time comes to get off I will recognize the Termini... after all it is a huge busy building and I've seen it on Google dammit!

The bus seems to grow in size as the streets become narrower and narrower. I hold my breath every time we squeeze between a parked car and a person who has laid themselves flat against it to avoid being squashed; Every time we whiz by a pedestrian just a split second after they step clear of our path; Everytime we squeek by... okay you get the point. The good news is that my bus driver is now actively driving. The bad news is that he's getting cranky. His window came down. He begins to yell and madly gesture at the cars in front of him, at the people that we've passed. They are uneffected by his anger. They yell back. Somehow the streets become even narrower. Next we passed a rally or protest of some kind. People fill the street. I am convinced we're going to run over them all. We turned a corner and I notice that the bus driver is reaching for his intercom again. My heart begins to pick up that lerching pounding beat. I search the street for anything familiar. He says, "Sanitinirinalinibadina" in the time it takes me to say, "Bo!". People get off. This time I stay seated. My new strategy is that I'm gonna sit right there in my seat until he drags me off the bus kicking and screaming. We drive on. Two stops later I need a Prozac and a bottle of wine. Stat. There are only four people left besides me and the driver.

I look down at my map and try to find some familiar landmark. When I look up again we are rounding the corner next to a tall brick colored wall. This wall stretches on and on, winding with the street. It is twice as high as the bus, it's surface is smooth and solid. No windows. No doors. Finally we turn a corner and ahead a line of people stand before a gate. I see a sign. It's the Vatican.

Now I know where I am but I cant take my eyes off of the window long enough to look at the map. With every block there is another gorgeous fountain, ancient church or statue. This time, when my heart begins to pound, it's because I cant believe I'm finally here, in Rome. I dont think I will ever forget the moment I looked from my side window to the road ahead and saw the Colosseum standing right there in front of us. I couldn't even breath. You always think these things will be less than you imagined. But it wasn't. It was pink and crumbling and fantastically immense, right there on the side of the road.

We drove on. When we next came to a stop the four remaining people get off. I sit still. I look left. I like right. I look ahead. This... This is not the termini. Not one thing is recognizable. Not a street, a building. Not a sign saying "Termini". Nothing. I dont have a clue where I am. The bus driver gets up and off the bus. I am forced to follow. My heart isn't pounding. It has stopped altogether.

More, coming.

Rome

2011-10-21T09:19:00.000-07:00

Mid morning, a clear and hot day, the first of October- I meet Rome for the first time.

London, Athens, Messina, Rhodes, Istanbul, Chania, Bolognia... these were places, cities, towns.

Rome is a woman.

Meeting Rome was like coming face to face with a movie star I had long loved and admired. She is everything I expected- glamorous, vain, distinctly Italian, beautiful...her star quality evident and in tact. Rome wears big Elizabeth Taylor jewels: The Colosseum, the Pantheon, Trevi Fountain, The Spanish Steps, the Arch of Constantine, The Vatican. The beauty of these gems fade little for being set against age spotted skin. But the gems, the designer clothes and heavy makeup could not hide her imperfections, the reality of age, heavy drinking and a hard life. The illusion of the silver screen goddess fades. She has yellow teeth and coffee stains. The hem of her vintage Armani dress is torn and dangling. She smells a little.

I landed at Fiumichino airport and made my way through customs, which is to say that I was swept forward by the crush of a crowd along a narrow corridor and through the slim opening between two custom's officers desks, the officers themselves disinterested, half asleep, not even bothering to glance up as I passed amongst a flood of multinational people. We poured out into the Italian sunshine. There is no "Welcome to Rome" sign.

First things first. I must catch a bus or a train to take me in to Rome (the airport is a half hour west of the centre of the city). I walk confidently out of the airport and turn right. I feel confident, cool, a world traveler. I walk a few minutes to the designated bus area. I pull out a sheet from the tab beneath "Bus Rome" in my file folder and glace at it briefly. I know it by heart. I look for the white bus with Terravision on the side. There is no such bus. There are two blue buses. Neither have Terravision on the side. I dont panic. I settle in to wait. I'm confident that one will arrive shortly. A man approaches me. He is wearing a apron with pockets in the front. He looks very official which is to say stern, unfriendly, annoyed, rushed, impatient... his expression says it all. He asks, in broken English, "What you waiting for?"

I say, "Terravision bus".

He seems to roll his eyes, "Yes, Where you want to go?"

I go to say the word on my sheet but falter... I cant remember. So I hold up my page and point at the word "Termini" I dont dare try to pronounce it.

"Ci! Ci!" He cries, "This bus! This bus!" He gestures emphatically at the blue bus and motions for me to get up. "Seven euro!" He holds out his hand.

My false bravado crumbles. In an instant I have become the bewildered tourist: lost, scared and alone in a foreign country.

"No!" I say. "I wait for white bus." I realize that for some reason my English has become as broken as his. This makes no sense.

The man gestures wildly, without even a single word his gesture screams, "Geeze, these tourists! What am I to do! They are such idiots!" I stare at him with wide blank eyes. So he changes tactic. This time he speaks to slowly, pronouncing each world precisely like I'm a dim witted child, "The blue bus is same. Same as white bus. You go to Termini. This bus goes to Termini. Seven euro."

"To here?" I ask, pointing again at my sheet.

He rolls his eyes. "Yes, yes!"

"Alright I say!" Why didnt he just say so? I pay for my ticket and get on the bus. My imagination runs wild, what if he misunderstood? What if he is conning me? What if I end up in Naples?! Venice! A bad neighborhood?! I'll be kidnapped! Raped! Sold in to the sex trade! But wait! I'm fat. It's all good... surely they dont kidnap fat girls! But wait! What if there is a specialized market for fat girls? Oh my God, I'm going to be sold in to a niche fat girl market!

An American couple sit down in the seats across from me. "Excuse me, does this bus go here?" I ask, pointing at my now sweaty crumpled sheet.

"Yes." She says, confidently.

I settle in for the bus ride to Rome.

More, soon.

Trevi Fountain

Streets of Rome

In the Pantheon

The Pantheon

London, England

2011-10-19T10:02:00.000-07:00

Not long after sunrise we began our descent towards Gatwick Airport, south of London, North of Crawley. Over a never ending patchwork quilt of rolling green fields we flew, over little villages tucked in between sheets of white fog, over country roads winding between pastures, each unique in shape, fitted together like pieces of a puzzle and each bordered by tall hedging trees, all so timelessly picture perfect that I couldn't help but imagine a fictional Mr. Darcy strolling over those very fields in the early morning dew. So peaceful and quaint it was nearly impossible to imagine the sights, sounds and terror of the all too real Blitz of WWII. History came alive for me before I had even touched the ground. As it would continue to do so, without fail, ever day of my journey through Europe.

I have already described my excitement in those first moments upon landing so I wont do so again. After dropping my bags at the hotel I headed to the airport train station and purchased a ticket on the Gatwick Express (a direct 35 minute train ride from Gatwick Airport to Victoria Station in the heart of London) which was more expensive than I had expected at 17.90 pounds (nearly $30 canadian or US) one way! The first of many expenses I hadnt really anticipated.

When I arrived in Victoria station and stepped out in to London for the first time I met head on a handful of British cliches:, red double decker buses, Cornish pastie stands, pubs, and little black taxi's so cute they looked like toys. I decided to walk around rather than take the traditional red bus tour. I wanted to feel the city beneath my feet.... had I known that three hours and God-knows-how-many-miles later, somewhere between Buckingham Palace and St. Pauls Cathedral, my feet would actually fall off, I might have taken the damn bus:)

I didn't come close to seeing all the sites, or even as many as I would have on the bus but I'm glad, now that the memory of those painful blisters has faded, to have seen a little of London between the monuments. I would love to go back and give the city the time it deserves. I went through it so quickly and was so tired, it feels more like I flipped through a picture book of London- I have little snippets of a beautiful city on a beautiful day, filled with terrifically beautiful sites but no distinct memory of what it was to stand before them. The last I remember of London was of trying to keep my eyes open on the train back to my hotel... I didnt fall asleep thankfully, but I wasnt really awake either, not until the next morning when I flew in to Rome...

A recommendation for future travellers: Look in to buying a London Pass. I had no idea how expensive the admission prices were going to be for the different sites (not just in London but in Rome and other cities as well). For example: Westminster Abby 16 pounds ($25) St. Pauls 14.50 pounds ($23) Buckingham Palace (where Kate's dress is displayed) 17.50 pounds ($29)

Below are my photos of some of the historical sites I visited (or the ones I took pictures of anyways!) It seems that blogger has this new (to me) option where if you doublt click the picture it opens a slideshow format for larger viewing)

A noble looking King Richard I statue outside of Parliament.

Oliver Cromwell statue with Big Ben in background

Walking up the street towards St. Pauls

St. Pauls (the upper facade) sorry I got a little carried away editing this one, I didnt like the originals as there were many buses, sign posts and people below.

I cant remember where I took this one, but it is Elizabeth I

Big Ben

Trafalgar Square

Somerset House Courtyard

Westminster Abby

GIANT arena behind The Guards Museum... wouldnt you love to lope some circles in there!?!

The Guards Museum

Buckingham Palace

Statue outside of Buckingham Palace

Horse poo outside Buckingham Palace! :)

Horses and Guards at the Gaurds Museum (above and below)

Statue behind The Guards Museum (can you tell that I liked the Guards Museum?!?)

Douglas Haig statue- I will quote here from wikipedia an interesting fact about this statue:

-"Unveiled 10 November 1937. The statue aroused great controversy, comparable even with the reaction to Epstein's early works. The depiction of the horse was deemed to be unnatural; Country Life noted that its legs were in the position for urinating. Haig's widow did not attend the unveiling."

While I did find the stance of this horse unusual it didn't strike me as offensive... if anything I found it beautiful and the pose regal.... I guess Tennesse Walkers, Arabians, Morgans and Saddlebreds were not popular (or didnt exist) at this time! I'm used to looking past horses being arranged in unnatural ways for statues and figurines... someone should have pointed out to those who took issue that a better argument would be for the unlikeliness of Haig's horse to have pointed like a bird dog... just a thought...

Buongiorno!

2011-10-18T07:11:00.000-07:00

(getting on the plane to London in Vancouver (red faced from trying not to cry as I said goodbye to DB)

Buongiorno! (Good Morning!)

Lo Sono a Casa! (I am home!)

And there depletes my entire repertoire of Italian phrases!

Not really, but it's a near thing.

How could I possibly put down in words just how amazing my trip was?

"The trip of a lifetime!", I could say if I were unimaginative...

"The best trip ever!", I might say, if I were still a teenager....

"An spiritual and emotional cornucopia!"... I could say, if I were pretentious (and lame).

"A wonderfully rich and spiritually nourishing journey filled with adventure, laughter, and memories that will last a lifetime." .... Yup, I think that about sums it up.

I could write a hundred posts about our adventures and still be no closer to describing the whole of our experiences. I am going to run through our itinerary and share a little about each of the places we visited but the CliffsNotes version will have to suffice.

Where to start... Hmm... I best take Louis Carrol's advice and "Begin at the beginning and go on until you come to the end: then stop."

In the beginning: There was a bittersweet farewell.

Sitting at my gate waiting to board the plane from Vancouver to London I wrote in my journal:

"I hate leaving home. I love where leaving home takes me."

Driving away from my home, my babies, my bed (:D) was bad enough, saying goodbye to my man at the gate was infinitely worse. But as much as I hated to leave him behind, I was so incredibly excited about taking my first real step towards a trip I've dreamed of taking for the better half of my life.

In my dreams I've always envisioned that when the time came I would make that long journey abroad alone. And I did, to a certain extent. I flew out all by my lonesome on the afternoon of 29th and landed in London at sunrise on the 30th of September. From Gatwick I walked five minutes down the road to my hotel where two weeks previously my Mom and sister had stayed when they began their journey towards a cruise out of Amsterdam heading to Portugal and Spain and finishing in Rome on the 1st of October.

Our plan was that I would fly to London on the 30th, stay the night and fly out the next morning to Rome (the 1st) where we would all meet up at the Beehive Hotel within a few hours of each other (they disembarked early in the morning an hours train ride North of Rome in Civitavecchia (and no, after two weeks I still cant that town's name perfectly.) So while I was alone in London that day I had the comfort of knowing that my Mom and sister were just a short plane ride away and that soon we would have a grand reunion in the heart of Europe, Rome! I was so excited about this plan that when my Mom and Fel left, and for the two weeks thereafter, I would finish every text and e-mail to them with a nearly giddy, "See you in Rome!!!"

Here I've already rambled on and I have only gotten so far as my hotel at Gatwick! Before I go on I must say that there was a moment when we first touched down on English soil that I will never forget. When I want something as bad as I wanted this trip I have a hard time letting myself believe it is really going to happen, until it does. It wasn't until I took my first step off the plane that it really sunk in that I had arrived. I cried for joy inside (I had to keep up the I'm-an-international-traveler-and-this-is-no-big-deal-facade on the outside...but inside I was just bursting out of my skin with excitement.) Adrenaline filled me with a desire to jump right in, feet first, to sink in to that old English dirt and soak up every sound, scent and sight around me... *ehem* sorry... got a little carried away there. So, I landed and checked in. I had been awake for 16 hours and knew that my day had just begun. I had all of London to explore and until sunset to make it happen. I dropped my bags and headed out to catch a train to London...

Arrivederci!

2011-09-27T09:35:00.000-07:00

I've been trying and trying for the past week to get the last instalment of my My Friend Princess written and posted but this morning I woke up and realized that it just isnt going to happen, I'm sorry (in my head I like to pretend like 1) there is someone reading this 2) that someone was eagerly awaiting my last instalment and 3) that someone actually gives a flying rat's ass that it isnt coming! Please dont burst my bubble).

I am a little disappointed because the title of my post was going to be "How I try to make my horse ~~love~~ trust me!" which was so exciting because in I've always wanted to try that thingy where you put a line through a word... though in my head I always envisioned applying it in such away that it produced something infinitely more amusing.

I was feeling really smart about that and was going to share with you how to do it today but I cant seem to get blogger to allow me to show the little bracket thingys... which kinda deflated my feeling smart:( <---- not a sophisticated insert

Anyways, so the reason why I am not going to get that post finished is because...

*drum roll please*

I am leaving for Europe in 2 days!!!

*super geeky happy dance*

This trip is one that I've been dreaming of for basically my entire life and this week it is finally happening!!!

*resisting the temptation to insert another happy dance*

I will be going to:

London, England
Rome, Italy
Messina, Sicily
Istanbul, Turkey
Ephesus, Turkey
Chania, Greece
Rhodes, Greece
Athens, Greece
back to Rome...
Traveling up through Italy from Rome to Bogonia
back to London

Aww to hell with it...

*happy dance*

*happy dance*

*happy dance*

Arrivederci! My friends!

Dont Overthink It or Anything...

2011-09-13T11:14:00.000-07:00

I finished my last post with the following:

"Over the past few months Princess and I have developed one of the best relationships I've ever had with a horse and it continues to grow with every ride. It doesn't make my heart pound or my blood come fast. But it is, nonetheless, deeply satisfying...

...There is more to come next post on what happened once I tried to win my mare's mind instead of her heart."

...to win over my mares mind instead of her heart.

... to win over...

I realize now that "to win over" has been the driving force behind my relationship with horses. I constantly seek to not only feel that special and, most importantly, mutual "connection" but to have it demonstrated by my horse in their actions and manners. In the past I've driven by the need to have my horse love me. I find the truth in those words uncomfortably deep. I'm almost embarrassed to admit how deeply in my pysche that river runs, how strong it's current have propelled my truest self, not just in horses, but in life. My hopelessly romantic soul wants nothing more than to be "the one" to that horse and I think I have always secretly been disappointed that none of my horses have looked at me in the truest sense of that way, I've also not-so-secretly envied those who's horses do look at them that way. The irony is that I know better. I've watched all the same clinics and read all the same books! I have a pretty good handle on how the horses psyche works, how to read their body, their intent... how to manipulate it- the basics of "natural" horsemanship. What my mind knew and what my heart had accepted where two different things.

The greatest lesson I've learned in the past year, as bitter as it may sound, is that a horse doesn't need to love me to want to work for me or to respond in a way that I once interpreted as demonstrating love (ie the desire to be with me). Thus is also true that when my horse doesn't work for me it isnt because she doesn't love me. For example, my greatest pet peeve is a herdboundness. To say it is a pet peeve is an understatement. It makes me immediately and thoroughly irate. I cant stand a herdbound horse. I now know why... because I take it personally. It is the ultimate insult to a a wanna-be-loved-horseman. Logically I know why a horse becomes herdbound and I even have a few tricks to help them overcome their herdbound behavior. But I found herdboundness to be a great emotional disappointment, it was so contrary to everything I ever wanted to feel from a horse.

I know that I said today I would write more about how I changed rather than why I changed but I guess I just wasn't finished digging deeply enough in this shamefully overly-thought-out emotional aspect of the "click". I used that word "click" too loosely. In my heart "click" means... It means the sound made when two perfectly shaped pieces of a puzzle are joined together- the sound made when they snap in to place. I was seeking the perfect marriage... rather than the marriage that is perfect for me (borrowed from my friend, the infinitely wise, L.)

More soon.

My Friend Princess- Part 2

2011-09-07T13:00:00.001-07:00

If you didnt read the first half of this story please check out this link My Friend Princess.

I finished off that post with this question: "So which is more important to me- the bond or the ride?"

The question might sound simple but at it's root it is probably the most fundamental question you could ask a horseman- Why do you have horses? For sport, recreation, as pets or all of the above?

I have never been so unsure of my own answer as I am now. In the past I valued, above all else, the bond. I was raised on books and movies like The Black Stallion, My Friend Flicka (hence the title "My Friend Princess"), Sylvester and Wild Hearts Cant Be Broken wherein the bond between horse and rider created a near mythical ability to overcome all obstacles, against all odds. As a child I didnt pin horse calendars on my wall, draw horses all over my binder, or run around a field on my invisible pony because I dreamed of being a champion barrel racer, show jumper or real-life cowgirl. I dreamed that I would have a horse so amazing, a horse to whom I was so profoundly connected, a horse that was so completely devoted and willing to work only for me that together we could do anything including becoming a champion barrel racer, show jumper and real-life cowgirl. I believed in the bond.

For the better part of the time I've owned Princess I've been hung up on the issue that her and I dont have that special connection, that I just dont feel "it". Dont get me wrong, I really did have a soft spot in my heart for Princess, she is a hard mare not to love but it wasnt that... that... you know? That thing?

Princess is a bit like dating that guy who is funny, smart, good looking, great to be around and dangit if he doesnt treats you like gold to boot. He is a great guy.... but....he sure the hell aint that tall slim nameless cowboy with the dark roaming eyes and smooth drawl you two-stepped with all night long that time at the Vermillion Fair. Sure that cowboy might float the ol'boat but he sure as shit isn't going to be there in the morning. As my good friend Barbie once said, "A cowboy is only good for one thing- the weekend." Almost all the horses I've owned in the past ten years have been cowboys... they swept me off my feet only to dump me on my ass... left me with nothing but a few short memories, a nasty hangover and a suspicious rash. *ehem* sorry, got a little carried away with that purely hypothetical analogy there.

Princess is that good ol'boy who smart girls marry.

I'm not going to lie, in the past I've not been a very smart girl.

But I like to think I'm a little older... and wiser...

So I make a decision. I decided to keep Princess. I let go of that whole notion that I needed an organic spiritual connection. I thought I was giving something up. But instead I discovered something that will forever change the way I relate to my horses.

It isnt romantic.

It isn't magic.

It isn't clandestine.

It is simple- mutual respect and trust.

Over the past few months Princess and I have developed one of the best relationships I've ever had with a horse and it continues to grow with every ride. It doesn't make my heart pound or my blood come fast. But it is, nonetheless, deeply satisfying.

I started writing this post because I wanted to put down in to words the evolution of my relationship with Princess. I wanted to remember this time and share it with anyone who might be also be trying to find a balance between the dream of a horse like Flicka and the reality of a horse like Princess.

There is more to come next post on what happened once I tried to win my mare's mind instead of her heart.

My Friend Princess?

2011-09-04T09:31:00.000-07:00

It was this week last year that I first spotted the craigslist ad for my sweet mare Princess. Within a week I had gone to see her and by the fifteenth of September she was mine. I was not in love with her or anywhere close. She wasnt my "type". I hated her color. I wasnt crazy about her conformation. I figured that in one year, when Abby came home, I could send her down the road without a tear and with free conscience as I would have put time and training to her that would give her a better chance for a useful life down the road. One year of riding later.... And boy have I learned a thing or two about what I like in a horse. I still dont like her color. And not just because it is impossible to keep clean.

I still have to turn a blind eye to her conformation and the way it makes her body move, (athletic is about the last adjective that would come to mind). BUT I have gotten more "use" out of this not-so-pretty mare in one year than I have out of all the horses I've owned in the past ten years, combined. 'Pretty' really is, as pretty does.

When I started riding Princess I had a set of hard and fast rules that I felt were non-negotiable. For example: I dont feed treats and I especially dont feed treats out of hand. I dont get off and lead my horse over an obstacle she wont cross. I dont use bribes. I do not coo lovey-dovey "goood girrrrl, what's a sweeeet goooood girrrrl" to my horse and I especially do not do so when trying to coax her through a sticky situation.

I feed Princess treats, out of my hand. I get off and lead her over obstacles she wont cross. I bribe her. I coo lovey-dovey words, especially when I'm trying to coax her over a sticky situation. I did not begin to use the above tactics because I "love" her and she has turned me in to a softy. Oh contrare!

For all the use I was getting out of Princess I was still planning on selling her come September for no other reason other than the fact that I could not seem to develop that bond. I had days where i thought I might just be falling in love with her but then that feeling would seem to fade overnight.... and not because of a bad experience. We just didnt "click".

Not only did we not "click" but it really seemed like she did click with the lady I board off of, who I'll just call L.. You see, L and Princess had this bond... Princess would walk right up to her in the field to be caught and then seemed happier with L under saddle. Princess would relax and respond to L better than to me so much that I actually encouraged L to ride her more and we even talked of her buying Princess. I didnt resent that bond at all, I envied it.... because it is exactly that "special connection" or "click" that I have been trying to find for years now. I always thought that it was just something that was there, or not.

The time came for me to make a decision. Sell Princess or not. The answer wasnt simple. I still had so much room to grow on Princess. I still loved riding her. We still had years of good riding a head of us. But we had no bond. So which was more important to me? The bond, or the ride?

More soon.

Out of Sight... but Not Out of Mind

2011-08-22T21:53:00.000-07:00

This evening I was contemplating just what I was going to do if Hola does not sell before I have to bring her home (in the next month basically)... the market is tough out there especially for young stock and while I think she is priced well I know that it will take time to find that special buyer. While she has been out of sight it (though never out of mind) it has been easier to stomach the idea of letting her go.... but I just know that as soon as I lay my hand on her baby soft coat and look in to those eyes, so much like her kind momma's, I'll be undone. I'm torn between praying that she sells to an awesome home as soon as possible and praying that she doesn't so she can come home. There is a reason why I made the tough decision to let her go- you know, that whole "I cant have it all" bullshit bullshit bullshit (I love this scene from Forgetting Sarah Marshall) I wrote about last post.... but that doesnt mean I have to like it.

As a matter of fact, I dont.

Selling a Dream- Abby's 2011 Filly

2011-08-16T08:50:00.001-07:00

Why do I feel like the only way to begin this post is to shout "Hello!" followed by a series of echoing "hellos!", 'ello, 'ello, 'llo, 'o, 'o, 'o, 'o!"

"Is anyone out there!"- "out there", "out there", "out there"!!!

But I wont start things off that way because that would be just cheesy as hell and this post should be nothing if not serious (with a title like "Selling a Dream". Did you forget that I can be a wee bit over dramatic?!)

*clears throat and sits up primly in my chair*

Hello dear bloggerworld! I've missed you! Hope everyone is doing well and enjoying the summer! I'm not coming back to blogging just yet. We'll see. For now I just wanted to tell you this...

... I'm selling Abby's 2011 filly MyBlingsOnTheInside- by Jumping Jac Whiz (Topsail Whiz x Miss Maggie Jac- earning and producing daughter of Hollywood Jac 86) and out of Roosters Abby (own daughter of Gallo Del Cielo (Rooster) x Miss Shorty Lena (Shorty Lena)). How is that for a pedigree!

Why am I selling my dream filly? Because I cant have it all!

"Cant have it all!!???!" you exclaim!

I know! I was as shocked as you are! Along with that tidy bit of information I also recently discovered that I am not the centre of the universe, the world does not revolve around me and the sun does not, in fact, rise and set at my discretion. *huge exasperated sigh*

It's taken some getting used to but I think it really is better this way:)

I've dreamed of having a filly like Hola most of my life- a filly out of a stud I love and a mare I adore with the pedigree that I think is just magic... one that I can raise myself and keep for life. She is everything I ever wanted in a foal. But...

Last September I bought a mare that is nothing I've ever dreamed of. She is a medicine hat paint, a color I not only dont prefer, but one I particularly dislike. Her breeding leaves something to be desired. Her conformation is about as far from my "type" as it gets. She moves like a pleasure horse, not a reiner or cutter and is far from catty. She was cheap. She wasnt particularly broke. I figured I couldnt go wrong. I'd put some miles on her and sell her this September when it came time to bring Hola and Abby home... I didnt feel bad about that because I figured that I could give her away to a great home and with the time I put in to her she'd have a better chance at a good life than if she had stayed up in the hinterlands where she came from (where she would have remained relatively unbroke for the rest of her days.) Turns out I'm not very smart. This revelation also occurred to me just recently.

I ride Princess about five days a week. We haul out. We ride trails. We play in the arena. I love to ride her. I love to be around her. She is a pleasure. I've gotten more use out of my big white mare in less than a year than all the other horses I have owned in the past ten years combined. She is beautiful to me now because beauty really is as beauty does.

So I'm not keeping Hola.

Yup, just like that. These past few months have been filled with lots of revelations and trials and tribulations. I wont bore you with the details (she says as if someone is reading this and after writing a lengthy dialogue that is of no interest to anyone but herself). Let's just say that I feel very blessed in life. I just hope someone out there will feel as blessed to have Hola as I do Princess.

MyBlingsOnTheInside can be seen at McBridesQuarterHorses.com . Please contact McBrides for futher info.

Sage's 2011 Foal

2011-06-05T22:38:00.001-07:00

Sage's 2011 Cremello Filly...

(Last year I posted pictures of her sorrel colt (John Wayne or JW)...

MyBlingsOnTheInside (Hola Update)

2011-05-13T20:47:00.000-07:00

Hello! It would seem I couldnt stay away for long after all! How could I stay away when there are photos of my sweet Hola to share?!? To say I am happy with the way my little filly is turning out would be a huge understatement. And, within just a few days of my visit I found the perfect registration name for her too.

Meet MyBlingsOnTheInside!

MyBlingsOnTheInside (so named because Hola doesnt have a stitch of white on her, only a few white hairs on her forehead that you have to look hard to find...the white on her legs will disappear.) is everything I wanted in a name... It says that she is something special... and that she doesnt need chrome to be something to special... It doesnt have the pedigree reference that I wanted but the second it popped in to my head I knew that was it!

I am so very excited about this little filly. I pray that she grows up to be a healthy, sound and solid minded mare with a heart of gold like her Momma. If she has even half the amount of try that Abby has, I'll count myself lucky... actually, I already am lucky just to have such a beautiful little filly to pin my dreams on.

Saying Goodbye... Kinda

2011-04-25T22:30:00.000-07:00

On July 12th 2008 I hit "publish" for the first time. Since then I've hit that little orange button over five hundred times and in doing so unleashed my unique and quirky perceptive on the world on such varied subjects as horses, dogs, cats, sheep (and my disdain for all wooled creatures), to pop culture, relationships, personal anecdotes (note: anecdotes not antidote... who knew!) and everything and anything in between. While "Horse Crazed" might suggest a primary topic most of you have come to know that you're just as likely to find a rendition of "Night Moves", a story of how I was once blinded by a Caesar salad, and book review of Vampire Porn (no joke) as an article on horse color genetics, the ethics of breeding or my failures as a horseman (See: "Mounting: A Failure to Launch Story".)

I've loved writing Adventures of a Horse Crazed Mind... I loved it. Past tense. For nearly three years I've indulge my passion for writing and personal expression through blogging, not as a chore, out of obligation or for the gratification of having a readership (though it was appreciated), but because I felt an irrepressible desire to share and to share in a form that represented my creativity at its best. That urge to express remains. But my dedication to the art of sharing... to my own standards of quality has been seriously flagging these past few months to the point that I'd rather not publish at all than to continue publishing these half hearted efforts, schlocky (What! It's a word!) written updates or quick little didlees as I have been. In other words, I've put far to much time, effort, love, blood, sweat and tears (okay maybe no blood or sweat but tears for sure!) in to this freakin' blog to let it go to let it go to hell in a hand basket (I tried googling euphemisms for "going to hell" in an effort to get something with more umph than the above but by the time I figured out how to spell euphemism correctly enough that google could figure out what I was trying to say I'd lost all patience.)

So, is this good-bye? Kinda. I dont have the heart to shut this baby down. So this blog will continue to exist and I'll continue to post on it when or if I have something of importance to say and the time and patience to say it in a (remotely) eloquent fashion. Which wont be often. Or at all. We'll see. In the mean time I will continue to post random, poorly written and otherwise shitty blog posts over at The Schlock Blog- where even the name is schlock. I don't recommend you check it out.

Meet Hola

2011-04-22T23:26:00.001-07:00

Need I say more?

(of course I do!)

She is just as sweet as pie and cute as a button.

It didnt take me long to name her either. Hola! She is such a friendly little filly with a happy eye and soft demeanor...she just suited a name that meant "Hello!" I get her home in the Fall. My first baby... An hour with her and I was in love... but it took me a few days to get past all of the practical arguments against my buying a foal. But when I saw the above photo I knew. I knew that I would regret saying no... and that I'd never regret saying yes.

So I said yes.

And I feel so damn good about that decision I just cant tell ya.

But there is one decision left to be made! The name for her registration.

I would like it to incorporate Whiz and Rooster... or Gallo Del Cielo (means Heavenly Rooster (the Cielo means heavenly). Jack could be worked in there too. Last year's foal was Whizeroo. I love it but want her to have her own name. Ideas?

A Filly

2011-04-17T21:41:00.000-07:00

She is just hours old in this photo. All red. Not a stitch of white. She should shed out a dark chestnut. And yes, this one may be mine... who am I kidding? I think she has to be mine... I meet her tomorrow.

Let the naming game begin!

Ponies At Sunset

2011-04-17T00:18:00.000-07:00

Waxed Up!!

2011-04-15T21:50:00.000-07:00

(ABOVE: ABBY AND HER 2010 FILLY WHIZEROO) Just got word that Abby is waxed up and dripping white milk. And guess what!! I (God willing) will be able to meet her 2011 foal within the next few days! I am hoping to leave her Monday and get there in time to see a healthy and happy Momma Abby have a healthy, sound, and beautiful little colt or filly. I am so excited.

The Everglades

2011-04-12T21:53:00.000-07:00

The Everglades- a place of raw and savage beauty... ...of lush green emerald palm fronds, stunted Poisonwood and brackish gator filled swamp... ...of strangled trees, unearthly mangroves and a scent so rich and damp it lays like a mossy blanket over you... though it is not stagnant, it teams with life... home to those who slither and crawl... ...those who scurry unseen into the depths of bottomless shadows... snakes, spiders, vultures and... ... the Geico Gecko... What? He could be visiting! Maybe even seeking a tax shelter... or visiting elderly relatives... or (with that vibrant colored beard) maybe he's visiting South Beach... ya never know.

These Eyes

2011-04-10T21:34:00.000-07:00

(sorry about the lack of spaces, blogger is being a (insert bad word)...

*dunt dun* *dun dunt da da dunt da dun* *dun dun* *dun na da dunt da dun* *dun dun*

Oh come on! I got it close!

How about ya just go on and hit play on this video (make sure your volume is up... 'cause These Eyes, is a must sing-along kinda song and that's just the way I roll... have you hit play yet? Go on... I'll wait....

Oh yah, *bob that head* ... *dunt dun*.... trademark chords, classic... just classic.... These Eyes... cry every night... for you... These Arms... long to hold you... again... The hurtin's on me yah... I will be free now, now my baby oh no now You gave a promise to me, yah you broke it.... you broke it... oh no... *sigh*

Oh yah... God I love that song.

Why are we listening to it, you ask? Well, 'cause these eyes (mine) are the issue at the forefront of my mind right now... While I was away I had to accept something that I've known but have been avoiding for some time. A few days ago my Mom and I were sitting out on the deck of our condo looking out over the ocean and she commented on the size and name of a cruise ship that was sailing past. The thing was that I couldnt see the name on that cruise ship. I could only see a dark blur where I knew the name should be but I couldnt make it out. I was quick to find an excuse...the glare of the water, my tired eyes, that I had been reading and such but then later, as we were driving through the city, I noticed that the road signs were a little harder to read than I remembered... then I recalled how last year I had commented that the isle markers at the grocery store we hard to read and a few other little things like how "tired" my eyes felt at the end of the day. I know you might be thinking, "What's the big deal, go get your eyes checked!" and I'd have to agree. Being less than 20/20 isnt the end of the world.... But... for some reason the idea that I might need corrective lenses really bothers me.... maybe it's because I am an artist and the way I see the world, the detail, light, color, shades and shadows is so important to me... it is almost that it defines some portion of who I am... the idea that I have lost, or am loosing any portion of that is really a little scary to me and I really haven't wanted to face it. This evening I was in Chapters and I was looking for the "Pet" section and found that I had trouble making out the section markers. As we walked to the car I pointed to a sign in the parking lost and asked HS if he could read it. He could. I couldnt. Tomorrow I am going to make and appointment to have my eyes tested. It is pointless and childish to be a little scared. But for some reason I am. *fingers crossed*

Now, I have to leave you with this. One of my favorite scenes of any movie, ever. These Eyes rendition by Michael Cera in Super Bad. The intensity of the coked out guy is crazy...

"You want a line of cocaine?"

"No way, man."

"Yaaahh!"

Classic.

'Robert Is Here' Key Lime Milkshakes

2011-04-09T20:39:00.000-07:00

I am home from Florida and while I have much to report I'm going to keep it simple for tonight by posting a picture from our road trip to Everglades National Park that is, surprisingly, not of a gator, a vulture, a mangrove or an exotic bird, as you might expect (those will be coming shortly) but instead this is a pic of a milkshake cup! Why? Because that cup contained the best freakin' milkshake I've ever tasted in my entire life made with fresh Key Limes and ice cream so thick and smooth you cant even suck it through a straw .... I swear this thing was just To Die For. OMG. Seriously.

Want one? Just go to "Robert is Here" fruit stand on West Palm Road outside of Homestead, Florida (on your way in to Everglades Park). The stand also has a large assortment of fruit (duh!), tons of different kinds of honey, pickled vegetables and canned fruit, preserves, real sea sponges, shells and there is even a petting zoo to boot! Oh and Robert really was there! (hence the name). This is obviously a well loved family business that is popular with locals and tourists alike.

"Okay, What Did I Say Then!?!"

2011-04-03T11:00:00.000-07:00

So... I am in Miami. Long story. The short story is that it is warm, sunny, palmy (lots of Palm trees) and I like it.... especially when I turned on the television Clinton Anderson was right there on regular cable. I think I almost fell off my chair. FYI- I am not leaving our condo for the remainder of our trip as I dont think I can bring myself to turn it off.... partly because I like Clinton Anderson and partly because the Scott in me cant handle turning down a bargain! It'd cost me $190 to order the DVD for what I watched today, and that's used off of ebay!

The real story I have to tell today is one you are probably all familiar with... I'd almost bet you've done this yourself.

Picture this: I am running around the house like a madwoman trying to get packed and everything sorted before I leave (HS is staying home) when suddenly I remember that I havent told HS what he needs to do to give Hawky his medication (another story for another day). Before I can forget I go in to the living room where HS is reading and I say, "Honey?"

He doesnt look up from the paper but does say, distractedly, "Yah?"

Me: "Can you pay attention for a minute?"

Him: *glances up at me, takes in my impatient expression and resists the urge to look back down at the paper*

"Yes."

I can tell by the expression on his face that his mind is still occupied by whatever he was reading but he was looking at me at least and I was in a rush so I decided to give it a shot so I go ahead and say, "Hawky needs three pills, twice a day and the cream on morning and night. Tomorrow he is only suppose to get two pills twice a day but if he isnt doing any better phone the vet and ask them if you should give him three instead, okay?"

Him: * nods with a blank stare*

Me: "Okay?"

Him (impatiently): "Okay."

Me (impatiently): "Were you listening?"

Him (defiant): "Yes, I got it."

*hint of a sheepish look on his face*

Me (challenging) "Really?! Okay, what did I say then?!?"

Him: *coy smile* .... *taps fingers on desk*..... *thinks hard*

His reply: "Dog.... um... Pills...." (I nod encouragingly) "... something about cream.... and.... (triumphantly) Call the vet!"

*I cross my arms and sigh*

Him: "Did I ever tell you that you're the most beautiful woman in the world?"

*I continue to stare blandly*

Him (resigned): "Alright fine!... Sorry, what did you say?" *smiles that impish, sweet, gorgeous smile*

That smile... I just cant resist it.

So I wrote the instructions for Hawky in a note, stuck it to the fridge and covered it in x's and o's like the big ol' sap I am.

I'm just sucker for that man.

Miss you sweetie! xo

Besties

2011-03-31T21:37:00.001-07:00

Marm and Princess- Besties Forever*

*excluding meal times

My Photo from the SET of TWILIGHT: BREAKING DAWN!!

2011-03-29T21:39:00.000-07:00

BWAHAHAHAHA!!! Sorry. That's all I got. What! I was driving! And going fast! And trying to aim my iphone in that general direction of the equipment trucks without driving off the road... subsequently I got more road than set. But you see those white trucks in the photo? Those are trucks from the set of Breaking Dawn... it wasnt like, in action at the time or anything but it had been previously. They have equipment set up all over the town that I am currently visiting and I actually know a few people who have met cast members (wolf pack and Taylor Lautner). There is my five degrees of separation! Yah, I'm cool.

My New Bobs

2011-03-28T21:23:00.000-07:00

Did I buy a new Bob's saddle today?

Why yes, yes I did.

*huge grin*

Didn't I just sell a Bob's back in January claiming that sale was going to fund a Europe trip?

*Nods head and shrugs shoulders*

Why yes, yes I did.

Didnt I cry and lament and say a dozen different ways that I would always regret selling that saddle and would buy it back in a heartbeat?

I may have said something along those lines. *waves hand dismissively"*

But I met a saddle today and all of that changed.

*deep, soulful, perfectly content sigh*

So many things in my life are going right these days that it just about scares me. I started working for my Mom and then just a few weeks later I start giving lessons... then yesterday I signed up for a cell phone contract of my very own (Previously I've been covered in HS's bill)... I even got a new iphone 4 yesterday (I'm calling it my "big girl" phone) and in a weeks time I will by flying off with my Mom and Sis to someplace with significantly more sun in the forecast. I have a horse that I adore, I am boarding in a barn that couldnt be any better, have a few new wonderful friends and spring is just around the corner. Life was pretty dang sweet... but today, it got even sweeter.

One thing you should know about me is that I looooove saddles. And I looooove me a Bob's saddle. Like, a lot. I pet them. I drool over them. I call them "sweet thing" and "darling". I will camp my behind in those big ol' Cadillac saddles, sling my arm over the horn, slouch down low and just hang out there for a while... even in the store. (true story) I got a call from a good friend today telling me that I needed to come out and check out a saddle she had in stock. So I did. And the moment I locked eyes on this little beauty I new he had to be mine.

So I texted my man (with my new iphone btw) and said, "Umm... honey... I need $____."

Two seconds later I got this reply.... "Ok."

I started at that little itty bitty word that meant so much and thought... what if he is being sarcastic? So I texted back and said, "Should I just put it on the card?" (meaning the Visa)

And he replied, "Yes."

Now I was sorely tempted to just head right on back in that store, hand over that magic'n'golden piece of plastic and say, "charge it!" but I hesitated (I know what you are thinking! you're thinking, i wouldnt have asked twice I'd be in there buying that dang saddle!"... But I just couldnt do it. I wondered, what if he thinks I am kidding?

Just to be sure, I called. I didnt even say hi... just "are you serious?"

His answer. "Yes."

Mind: "No really, are you sure you are serious because I am going in there right now and I am going to buy it."

His reply was a simple... "Do it quick and get home, I want to go for supper." A smart woman knows when she should just shut up and do as she is told. So I did.

Then I got him supper. So with no further ado.... This is my new baby....

It's a brand spankin' new Bob's Custom cutting saddle. Thanks to my good friend Barbie I was able to get this saddle for a price that even a cheap-o like me couldnt be happier with. Thanks Barbie! You are the best!

Oh, thanks also to my amazing, sweet, generous, fabulous, most-handsome-est, sexy, dashing, gentlemanly man of all men. I love you sweet heart.

Square Footage

2011-03-26T12:18:00.000-07:00

HS and I have spent the last few days up in Kelowna, BC looking at houses. If I look waaaay back in my archive I might find a similar post wherein I talked about a big move in the future...a move that never happened. This time we went back to K-town to look at homes for investment purposes not for personal relocation but even so we both walked away from this trip resolute that Kelowna, for all it's good qualities, is not the place for us. Another affirmation we had was on the issue of square footage. The square footage of the three homes we toured were all large- 4,800, 6,200 and 6,100. Huge by most peoples standards. HS and I share a love architecture and have spent many hours discussing the floor plan of the dream home we hope one day to build... but one thing we've never been able to agree on is just how many square feet is too many for a childless couple. I've always maintained that anything over 4,000 and we'll loose each other in the space. Obviously we could and do live in far less but when building a home we have to consider potential resale value so have always agreed that it must have three bedrooms + master (though we wouldnt use them all as bedrooms) and we both love a very roomy great room concept as well as a master suite. In these big homes though we always get hung up on the same thing, most of them have a formal living room and dining room, plus family room, breakfast nook/kitchen table and a rec room (usually in the basement) which makes for two dining tables plus nearly three sitting rooms... way, way too much space for two people. We would never ever use a formal dining room or living room though we both a gree that a rec room, while lost on us, is a necessity for resale. So there we are, two people plus lord knows how many cats and dogs who currently very comfortably live in 1,200 square feet that have convinced each other that we'd need to build to damn near four times that in order to get what we want plus what the market requires (3,500sq.f plus is standard for new single family detached homes constructed in the community where we live.)

What I want is a large great room with kitchen with seating at the island, living room, and a informal dining area (more formal than a kitchen table but far less formal than a traditional dining room set); A roomy master suite with walk in closets, a fair sized ensuite with soaker tub and steam/shower; three bedrooms that we can use as an office (him), studio (me) and guest bedroom; and a rec room (we'd use as a dog/cat room) and a furnace/equipment/storage room and two car garage.... oh and a big mud room/laundry with attached full bath (so I can wash when I come in from the horse, of course. So really, I dont want too much:0

A girl can dream.

I dont even want to think about what that would cost to build.... a spec home runs well over $100 a square foot here and for any kind of quality you can spend well over $200. Let's see... 4500 sq.f. x $225 .... oh would you look at that! Over a million dollars!

Let's see what a million buys you in the Fraser Valley of British Columbia (for those of you who are not familiar with BC, something like 90% of the entire population of BC lives within the Greater Vancouver or Fraser Valley area (within 100 miles of the US border). Vancouver prices are insane especially if you get in to the nicer areas. Here is a nice family home in a nice area of Vancouver (West) 2900 sqf. built in 1927 How about this charming *sarcasm* home in the "working class" area of Vancouver 3500sqf. built in 1971 on a average size lot. both over a million. A 1600 sqf apartment downtown? A million six.

How about something more up our alley (acrage) in the Valley?

A 6,100sqf home on 11 acres with barns... 2.7 m

This is an old TB farm with many outbuildings but the home is dated... 2.4m

Again, dated home but nicer (older) horse facility .. 2.39

Now you might be thinking "I would just buy bare land!" but these days the money is in the dirt so you dont save much.

Check out this beautiful 36 acre piece... 2.2

Or no view but better location, 40 acres for 2.6

Up in Kelowna an older hobby farm would run you something like...

this 2500sqf. home on 12 acres for 1.2m up in the hills.... but if you're talking lake acreage the prices get a liiiitle higher...

a small older home on 6 acres on the lake... 4.6 million

Personally, if I am spending over four mill. I am going to buy me my own freakin' island!

4 acre private island near Victoria, BC.

And if I'm looking in the ten million range I'd definitely give this bad boy a hard look...

private island also off the coast of Vancouver Island.

The home prices in BC are some of the highest in the world. BUT... Vancouver was also voted the most livable city in the world and BC ranks as one of the best places in the world to live. I consider myself very luck to be born in such an amazing part of the world... but it dont come cheap!

Golden Nuggets of Truth

2011-03-24T11:30:00.000-07:00

I was trying to find the name of this reality TV show I've caught a few episodes of in the past month when I stumbled on a blog written by a professional barrel racer Sierra Stoney (now that is the name of a rodeo girl if I've ever heard one!) Anyways, at the bottom of her post she left this quote, “Do not wait; the time will never be “just right’. Start where you stand, and work with whatever tools you may have at your command, and better tools will be found as you go along”. I just had to share that as it really spoke to me, especially considering my last post.

There were a few other golden nuggets on other posts... like these:

“When it comes to the future, there are three kinds of people: those who let it happen, those who make it happen, and those who wonder what happened.”

This one is a little Charlie Sheen-esque but still works...

“A winner is someone who recognizes her God-given talents, works her tail off to develop them into skills, and uses these skills to accomplish her goals”

Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, “I will try again tomorrow”

“The first step towards getting somewhere is to decide that you are not going to stay where you are.”

Check out Sierra Stoney's blog here.

BTw, the show I was looking for was Rodeo: Life on the Circuit on History Television... more on that next time:)

Made My First Dollar

2011-03-21T18:56:00.000-07:00

Today you can read my post or you can listen to me read it (though be warned that I sound like a total cheese ball... seriously, such a geek:)

Yesterday was an unexpectedly monumental day.

Or it might be.

Depending...

You see, for fifteen years or so I've paid handsomely for the use and enjoyment of the horses in my life and while I've always considered it money well spent often wondered what it would be like to have the tables turned... to earn a dollar from a horse. Yesterday I found out.

For the past four months or so I've been helping a friend of mine, (I'll just call her Lady for the sake of anonymity) where and when I could. While I dont consider myself a very good rider and though I would never dream of calling myself a trainer, after so many years of riding I have learned a trick or two and can offer up help in some circumsances. It just so happened that I was able to help a fellow horseman get a better ride out of her horse. One question lead to another and as time went on our "discussions" began to look more and more like lessons until finally we just called them what they were. I was happy to help out and didnt think of charging simply because I didnt think my help worth anything and besides I loved every last minute of teaching and sharing my love of horses and could think of little else I'd rather do with my free time.

And I mean that wholeheartedly.

I absolutely LOVE to teach people about horses.

And in that lies my deepest insecurity. It would not be false modesty to say that I am not qualified to act as a professional, I am not a great rider and I am no trainer. Most of the horseman I know could out ride me or out horse-know-how me any day of the week. But, when you teach a horse to do a task that makes it more safe, easier to ride and better broke, does that not make you a trainer? When you give a friend advice and that advice it utilized in such a way that it leads to better communication between horse and rider and a better overall ride, are you not then an instructor? Do you need to be more experienced than everyone or just more experienced than the people that you are trying to help? Do you need to be a great artist to teach someone how to draw a stick man?

I've never felt like I had anything to offer other people and wouldn't have dreamed of hanging my shingle out as a trainer. But, then a few random opportunities arose in which I was asked for help and those circumstance just happened to call for a trick within my repertoire. It was in those rare moments that I felt like I had my found my true calling in life...

... except...

I couldnt get past the idea that I wasnt qualified to be giving advice.

Such as... Last Fall Lady and I were out riding and she was having trouble with getting her mare to whoa. I offered a few ideas on how she might work on that problem but, even though i was confident I could get her closer towards a good stop, I had to preface my suggestions with the ___ of, "I dont know what I am doing but you might try..." or "I am sure it isnt the right way but I've always had luck when I....". As time went on and we began "lessons" I never lost that insecurity and would often remind her that "I might be teaching you the wrong thing but I'm the closest help at hand and at least I'm free."

Well, as of yesterday I have lost that excuse because tomorrow I'll be gettin' paid.

Yah, I know, right?

I can think of a hundred reasons why I should do it... but the truth is that I want to... I really want to. So why the hell not?

You know what they say....

Fake it till you make it.

Donkey Crossing

2011-03-18T22:23:00.000-07:00

Have I ever shared this picture with you all? No? Well, I snapped this while driving along the coast near Kona on the big Island of Hawaii and thought it was just the cutest thing ever. It is one of those holiday pictures that seemed really interesting at the time but later, back at home, you find yourself staring at a few dozen photos trying to discern what it was you found interesting about that gecko, pool, flower, and/or random street sign. Then, seven months later, you stumble upon that pic while desperately searching for something, anything, even remotely interesting to blog about that doesnt require you to think because you've just spent an hour writing a post on a (much more relevant topic) like how you loaded your horse in a trailer for the first time today, which should have been a non-event but for some reason brought a whole boat load of repressed traumatic memories to the surface and left you completely unhinged, which of course transmitted to the horse which only served to make the situation worse, which consequently made the nerves worse and so perpetuated that vicious circle that ended with your horse pulling back... which makes you wonder whether you just anticipated the problem or were actually the cause of it... the later being most likely... contemplating the situation leaves you befuddled and unable to write coherently and so instead you resort to flipping through random old photo files until you see a picture of a sign with a donkey on it and decide that the world would be better served by knowing that there are places like Kona, HI where donkeys crossing the road present a significant enough road hazard to warrant a sign than in having to listen to the doomsday dribble and endless ramblings of a chicken shit like me.

Yup, it is definitely a good thing that I didnt write about all of that and instead went with posting this lame ass picture... get it... lame ass...ass... donkey... *nods* yaaah.... no?

Alrighty then.

Saddles Suck

2011-03-17T22:48:00.000-07:00

I've been a bad bad blogger... bad! I have been saddle shopping with a friend these past few weeks and I've not blogged about it at all... and there has been TONS to write about! I've been to a dozen track stores, sat in about a hundred and one different saddles of every size, shape and style and spent hours discussing fit, cost, quality, corrective pads, and so much more... and yet, I've written absolutely nothing on any subject for one rather sad sounding reason...

After much time and research I've come to this conclusion-

Saddles suck.

All of them.

I guess that is the theme this week (last post was "Taxes Blow")

From the treeless, aussie and endurance, to the standard english or western, to the new-fandango prototypes.... they are all and each inherently flawed in that they assume it is possible that any rigid structure cinched down on a horses back and made to carry 100-200 + pounds could possibly facilitate good movement, physical soundness or comfort.... and that any structure that isnt rigid could possibly distribute that poundage over more than just a few vertebrae.

We'll leave that argument for another time. I've tried my best to brush up on the very basics of saddle fitting and in doing so I found a tool that could be very handy indeed. It is a system created by Steele Saddle Trees (the trees are wood, the name is Steele:) called Fit to Be Seen. Steele makes saddle trees for many saddle makers from small custom outfitters to the big names like Big Horn, Simco, Crates, Reinsman, and Parelli, so there really aught to be a saddle (with a Steele tree) in most any price range. Most saddle fitter's I've listened to have insisted that there is no better way to fit a horse...or really there is no way to fit a horse BUT than to put that naked tree on his back and actually SEE where and how it is sitting. Even someone fairly new to saddle fitting would be able to fit their horse fairly well if they could actually see that tree... it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out something is wrong when there are big visible gaps or points sticking in to the horse. Many tack stores now carry a line of saddle trees for saddle fitting but carrying an inventory of trees is expensive, employing a saddle fitter to travel to barns is not always an option and having the horse come to the store can be inconvenient or just not feasible at all. So, what Steele has done is created a composite of the underside of the saddle tree that can be used just as you'd use a complete tree to saddle fit to the horse. The idea is that tack stores can carry a full line of these composites for their costumers to take out and try on their horses or a horseman can order a composite to try directly from Steele. Once you've found a Steele tree that fits your horse you can order a saddle or find a saddle with the correlating model number. It just makes sense!

Here is a link to read more about the Fit To Be Seen System

(FYI I have no affiliation with Steele:)

Taxes Blow

2011-03-15T22:47:00.000-07:00

I have my fingers crossed that I might actually get through writing half of what I want to say... and would consider it a small miracle if I actually got something posted. I've been busy. Isn't it ironic that the more we do the more we have to write about but the less time we have to actually do the writing? I've been riding, saddle shopping, spending time with my man, and working *gasp* yes, I said working! This month I started working with my Mom as her executive assistant... which really is just a fancy way of saying that I am trying to organize her life and business. Actually, as her company name ends in "& Associates", I like to joke that I've become the ass. It is great to be able to help my Mom out and it is really good for me to be able to focus on something outside of the same ol' same ol'... like setting up websites, filing, accounting and taxes... *deep sigh* oh the taxes!...

You know... Taxes, they blow. Did you know that? I didnt think so. You're welcome.

I talked to a tax man on the phone today. I am quite certain he was a zombie. No I'm not shitting you! You should have heard this guy! I swear this dude made that teacher from Ferris Bueller sound like he was on speed.

I'm just sayin' that tax guy mighta been a zombie... or on a hefty dose of qualudes anyways.. do they even make qualudes anymore?

*shrugs*

I bought my first bottle of wine last week. I know, right? I'm 28, who'd have guessed. You see, I'm thinking that I might reconsider my no drinking polocy. I actually think it might be a good idea to get drunk once a year... just for good measure....

So I bought a bottle. I'll let you know how it goes.

No really. I bought a bottle of blueberry wine because I happen to be at a winery (long story) and was offered a tasting of blueberry wine (wine made from 80% blueberries... hence why they call it blueberry wine *blank stare*) and I actually quite liked it. I was already half cut from the wee bit of wine tasting I had already done so we'll see if I still like it when it comes time to open that sucker.

Till next time...

Cheers!

Saddle Shopping

2011-03-12T22:13:00.000-08:00

After much time and research I've come to this conclusion-

Twilight Fixation

2011-03-08T15:39:00.000-08:00

If you had asked me ten minutes ago if I still considered myself a Twihard (Twilight junkie) I wouldnt have even hesitated to answer, "No! Not even a little bit." I really and truly thought that I was completely over my Twilight fixation and even almost, almost over in to the Twilight Is Evil Camp... but not quite that far. That was until ten minutes ago. Ten minutes ago I would have said, "Breaking Dawn... *scoff* whatever." But then in just a split second everything changed. That old familiar shot of love-sick adrenaline shot through my veins... my heart skipped a beat, the blood rushed to my cheeks, my breath caught in my throat and I might have even just swooned a little... okay I didnt swoon. But it was a near thing. What did I see....

This *deep sigh*

.....

A still photo from the set of Breaking Dawn (my guess is that it is from the honeymoon scene) to be released November 18, 2011.

Princess Ballet Moves- Part II

2011-03-06T09:38:00.000-08:00

(this is not the same photo as in the last group and not the same buck... she was really tearing it up that day)

Princess's Ballet Moves- Part I

2011-03-04T19:33:00.000-08:00

LooOOOOoooNG trot! And ballerinas

2011-03-02T19:33:00.000-08:00

I love the long trot. And I mean loooong trot, not to be confused with the mad trot. The long trot and the mad trot are kinda like the Black Swan twins- one is good and one is evil... one is all about free forward motion, extension, impulsion and glide (baby glide) whereas the other is about a jarring, tense and angry pounding of bent up angst filled frustration....

I wanted to be a ballerina. I loved the movie Black Swan even though I had to cover my eyes through certain parts.

Once upon a time people told me I looked like Natalie Portman.

Now she weighs about as much as my left thigh.

Just a little statement of fact. I like long trotting. I loved Black Swan. I never had a hope in hell of becoming a ballerina.

*taps fingers on desk*

Yup, that's all.

Let's GO!

2011-03-01T11:02:00.000-08:00

Yesterday afternoon a friend and I took our horses out on a trail to let them burn off some steam. Lately, more than ever, I've been convinced that some horses (actually most horses) should have the "fresh" taken off before being asked to set their mind to a task. A few months ago I had a friend ask me to help her out with a horse that was trotting off on her all the time when she just wanted to walk. On one hand I know that a horse should always be able to maintain a walk when asked but on the other hand I knew that horse hadn't been ridden consistently in a long time and that she was really excited to be out . My advice was to not ask her to walk... to instead send her out at a trot (make her wait for you to ask) and keep her at a trot until she wants to come to a walk... only dont let her walk just then.... instead, ask her to trot for just a few minutes longer, then walk her for a few minutes, push her up to a trot for a few minutes then bring her back to a walk. My friend then said, "But I dont always want to have to trot her, she doesn't have a comfortable trot." Fair comment. I suggested that she instead lunge her before riding. Then we got in to a discussion about the what we should or should not expect from our horses.... Should we able to just get on and go for a walk? Should we be forced to lounge first? I want to say that a horse should do what we tell them, period. But...

I like a horse with energy. I would much rather contain energy than have to create it. I also appreciate a willingness to move out, a horse that constantly asks me, "What can I do now?" My favorite part about riding Princess is that she loves to go out...so much so that she actually balks at going home! I dont want to take away that childlike enthusiasm, that wonderful spirit she has and so I always try to make a ride fun for her.... because.... as cheesy as it may sound, if she is having fun, I will be too. It is not fun for a horse with a lot of energy to be made to walk when their whole body is yearning to trot....because sometimes I think it takes all of that wonderful spirit in them, that spirit that is making their feet happy and their heart light, and replaces it with a sour, bitter resentment.

I once met a trainer who told me that when a horse steps in to an arena with extra fresh (excited energy) it is like a little school boy who runs home just bursting with joy to tell his mom about how he won first place... he rushes to her, pulls at her skirt, jumps up and down and is so excited he can barely spit it out... "Mom! Mom! Mom! I... in school... I gotta...." Picture that boy's energy as it would be expressed in a horse... Now what if that mother were to turn to that boy and say, "Gerry be quiet! Go clean your room!" That little boy will be so deflated, he might have a temper tantrum, he might just drag his feet and go to his room or he might say, "but... but.. but... I gotta tell you something". Either way all of that natural joy has been taken away and by the time he's gone and done what he has told the excitement he has been replaced with disappointment. But if that mother were to have turned to that boy when he first rushed in the door and shared in that excitement for just a few minutes that boy would have gone off to do his chores still filled with that same positive energy. When I get on Princess she is that little boy (girl), she seems to say with a light heart, "What are we doing! Are we going! Can we go!" I always want to make sure that I answer with the same enthusiasm, "Let's go!"

Obvious- Love of his Frogy Ball

2011-02-25T21:46:00.001-08:00

I watched Toy Story 3 last weekend when I was away at my sisters house.

When I got home and was greeted at the door by Hawkydog and his "Frogy Ball" I realized a critical error in watching that movie...

As much as Hawky might love (LOVE, looooove, L.O.V.E) his frog shaped ball...

I think in the future I might go back to the faceless kong balls of the past...

Dont look at me like that! I cant help it! The idea that his poor blue frog might come to life at night and that on awaking his first words might be...

"My EYE My eye!! Oh my god, he's eaten my eye!!! Holy shit, my foot too!!!" ...

I am sorry, but the very idea is just too much to bear!

Obvious Beauty

2011-02-25T00:52:00.000-08:00

Random shots of an old barn...

The beauty and character I find in the small details of a larger picture are more obvious in some photos than in others...

The remains of a once useful tractor left to bury itself in the field of it's former glory- obvious.

The random spattering of mud on a tractor tire- not so much.

A bold shock of blue set against the greasy black of a gritty engine- obvious.

The artful geometry within the bolts of an old tin roof- not so much.

The warped boards of a old barn slashed raw and bloody by the wicked knife of time- obvious.

A random stack of clay burned bricks with their shades of copper and cobalt- not so much.

Single pane glass, an ominous sign and weathered wood- obvious.

I find the beauty in chaos and in symmetry....

... and always within the smaller details of the larger whole.

(all photos property of me please do not reproduce without permission)

Keen

2011-02-21T21:35:00.001-08:00

Die a Thousand Deaths

2011-02-20T23:16:00.000-08:00

Eghr! (the sound you make when you are really frustrated!) Oh how I have missed blogging! There is just too much I want to tell you all!... that is, if there still is a "you all"...

Hello?

*echo*

*considers likelihood that anyone has or ever will care about this here blog*

*shrugs*

Let's be honest, I've been talking to myself all along.... so why stop now?

So, been riding lots lately! And looooovin' it! And I've been able to ride with, like, other people! *gasp* I know, right? This afternoon I went with a new girl at the barn, Thursday I went with a couple girl friends, and Friday I went with L. (who I board off of)... in other words I've ridden with more people this week alone than I did in the entire year previously. I almost died on the ride on Thursday thanks to a certain someones (you know who you are! *evil glare*) but that is a story for another day. On Friday the ride went well right up until some very helpful people decided, rather than stand to the side of the trail and keep their dogs on a short leash, it would be a great idea to tuck themselves in to the bushes beside the trail, crouch down and be really quiet.... in other words to do their best 'big bad bear ready to spring out of the bushes and eat a horse' impression. Needless to say Princess was keeping one eye on the bushes during our ride the next day and even had a minor heart attack when the man walking on the trail in front of us stooped to tie his shoe lace. She has a memory like an elephant, my mare does! But to be fair I should say that we've now walked through that super scary gap in the fence six times without incident! *knock on wood* I love my pony:)

You know what I dont love? My saddle. My english saddle. Now, that is not to say that I dont enjoy riding English because if anything I've come to enjoy it even more and would love to continue with my English lessons in the future... but... And this is a BIG 'but' (Oh! A pun! big but/big butt) I am having a hell of a time with hauling my big butt up in to that english saddle! (I also have a hell of a time not overusing explanation marks! But we'll talk about that some other time!) The problem is two fold. First, my ass- it's big. My legs, they're short. My dexterity, is lacking. Refer to "Mounting: A failure to launch story" for more on the above. The second problem is that my horse is exceptionally round and lacking for anything that vaguely resembles a wither. Combine the above two issues with a cotton saddle blanket and you'll start to get the idea of where I might have a problem. Well, this afternoon that problem went from inconvenient to all out humiliating. S. (the new girl) and I walked our horses in hand to the trail head. S. mounts effortlessly, of course. Her horse stands still, of course. I walk my pony over to a log. I attempt to position her so that she is standing beside the log. Five minutes pass. I apologize to S. Princess finally stands still. I attempt to mount. Princess steps away from the log. The *insert expletives* saddle ends up around her armpit. I reposition the saddle. Climb back on my log. Fall off of my log. Apologize to the waiting S. who is no doubt wondering how she got sucked in to riding with a loser like me. I curse the log, my saddle, my horse, my life. Try again. Five minutes pass as I try to get Princess positioned to the log correctly. I try to mount again. I overcompensate. Princess starts steps away just as I step up. I fall forward over her wither. By the grace of god I stay on. I wish I could just die a thousand deaths and go home. Instead I swallow what little is left of my pride and carry on with the ride as if nothing happened.

The solution is that I need to loose weight, do yoga to get stronger, get a new saddle pad and girth (or a western) and go out when I have time to practice without an audience to make me nervous. But even so there is a high likelihood I will still struggle to mount Princess in an English saddle.

Or instead I could just go a head and die a thousand deaths. Yup... I think that'd be easier.

Slacker

2011-02-14T21:18:00.001-08:00

I've been a big ol' slacker when it comes to blogging this past month! My goodness, let's see... There has been plenty to write about but no time to get it on paper (so to speak). On Sunday Princess and I had an epic battle. Basically it came down to pure and utter stubbornness- on her part and on my own. You see I said she was going to walk through the narrow gap between a fence and a gate and she insisted that she was not. An hour later... no seriously, an HOUR later I proved that either a) I suck at horsemanship or b) I am the only being on this planet that is more stubborn than that bloody mare. Or maybe a bit of both. I will leave that story to another post.

In other news I've been researching my own pedigree on ancestry.com.... I figured it was pretty sad that I knew more about Doc O'Lena's bloodlines than my own. So far it's been really kinda cool! Right now I am looking at a handwritten passenger manifest for a ship that carried my great grandmother from England when she immigrated to Halifax, Canada. I also talked to a great aunt on the phone who gave me information on family that I didnt know I had and also found pictures of my great-great grandfather and grandmother.... who were really quite startled and scary looking if you ask me.... ironically enough grandma had the given name of Mary Kay... I'm just sayin'. Anyone have any suggestions of other genealogy websites that are better than ancestry.com?

Ummm... this afternoon I went to the barn to welcome this handsome devil. The (wonderful) place where I board Princess took on a new boarder (the first since me)- a sweet four-year-old grade QH. I think (and hope) he'll get along well at the barn.

And last but not least- My kitties are still going through the rather difficult transition of being confined to one area of the house. Bitty and I couldnt handle being separated for long so I hauled an old sofa in to their room. Now I can comfortably spend a lot of time in there reading or on my laptop... which means that in turn I am not spending time with my sweet man HS. He misses me out in his allergy-free zone but I tell him he's just lucky I havent taken to sleeping in that room too!

That's all I got for now.

Peace out!
(someone wrote that to me in an e-mail the other day and I thought it sounded really cool:)

Silent Saturday

2011-02-12T00:09:00.000-08:00

Silent Saturday

2011-02-11T23:55:00.000-08:00

I Could Have Bought...

2011-02-08T21:03:00.000-08:00

A few things I could have bought today instead of a $800 root canal...

This cute red dun filly.

These Lucchese boots.

This sweet Haflinger gelding.

This Circle Y reining saddle.

Everything in the above collection (I put together on Polyvore.)

FYI- As a result of today's procedure (and the resulting bill) I hereby declare that no coffee, tea, sweets, colas, and anything else that might cause cavities shall pass through these lips *points to my lips* ... at least until I find a job with dental.

Princess- The Valley Girl Version

2011-02-05T20:10:00.000-08:00

WARNING: The following post is really, truly and pathetically obnoxious. Dont say I didnt warn you....

*insert valley girl accent*

"Hi, my name is Princess! I'm a white medicine hat paint... which means that I'm suppose to be like totally white... My Mom is such a drag! She doesnt get that white is so last season! So I'm workin' hard to become a red dun like my besty Marm...'cause her copper coat is like totally fetch!..."

"I roll and roll in the mud four times a day but those freakin' humans man! They come in and try to get rid of my dye job before it's had a chance to set so all I get left with is these big blotches of like mouse brown! MOUSE brown! OMG... can you imagine!.... Just look!...."

"I just threw up in my mouth a little.

And how do you like my braided tail! Nice, right? *shakes head in wonder* Like a braid? Really?! This isnt the 80's you know! Horses havent worn braids since... since... DJ Tanner's horse in Full House!"...

*sigh*

Oh well! I dont know what I was thinking trying to copy Marm's style anyways! She is totally obsessed with me... I mean I'm fabulous and all *shrugs* but sometimes it can get to be a bit much... I think she like creeps me on facebook and everything."

"Yesterday I just couldnt take it anymore! I went all Naomi Campbell on her ass!"

"Dont worry.. we're all good now. I ♥ Marm:) xo"

I did warn you!

The Bi-yearly Chinese Food Binge and Resulting Mayhem

2011-02-05T09:54:00.000-08:00

About once every six months (when sufficient time has passed to fog our memories of the last such episode) HS and I decide that it would be a really great idea to order Chinese food from the local (less than authentic) restaurant. The result is always the same. Before we've even finished binging on our Almond Chicken, Chicken Chow Mein, Sweet and Sour Pork, and Chop Suey our stomachs are already staging a revolt. By the next morning it's utter meyhem. Neither of us can handle our Chinese. To make matters worse on this particular occasion, I decided to make a simple sweet dessert of sauteed apple and prunes. As Julia Roberts (in Pretty Woman) would say, "Big mistake. Big! Huge." Lesson learned.

In other news...

It's been a while since I've posted because I've been plain ol' tired and lacked the will power to sit down and write about what's been happening. So for a quick update:

HS's surgery appears to have been, at this point, a success. He is healing well and no longer in need of a full time nurse *wipes brow* ... just kidding. He's doing great and was a very good little patient.

Princess is doing wonderfully. That horse is so stinkin' cute some days I think she is the reincarnated spirit of a Golden Retriever.

The rest of my animal family is going through a period of adjustment that has been really hard on us all. HS is allergic to cats, and not just a little, but has been sucking up his reaction to them for years now... but with the surgery there was just no way he'd be able to handle sneezing. The answer was, at this point, to lock them in the living room (we have glass doors that can be closed) and to leave the balcony door open with their litter box outside. Our balcony runs the length of our house and gives them a good view of everything so there is really no reason for them to be unhappy with the arrangement... but the inherent nature of being cats being what it is, they are quite peeved at not being allowed to rule it all. It would seem they feel entitled to the lot and wont make due with a room and balcony bigger than most apartments. Bitty, my little baby, has had the hardest go of it as she is most attached to me and accustomed to following me about the house as I go about my day. A long term solution is going to have to be found but for now both HS and I have pointedly avoided looking too far in the future as there is no easy answer.

Other than that... as a result of a loooong few weeks and even longer winter, my computer chair has shrunk again. Damn that thing. There is just no winning some days.

Hope you have an excellent weekend!

NOT the manners of a Princess

2011-01-30T23:21:00.000-08:00

There are two things I've discovered about my (otherwise ladylike) mare Princess- she has a shockingly baritone nicker and she has absolutely no table manners to speak of... in other words, when she eats her grain she sounds like a pig nose deep in a trough full of slurry. Dont believe me? Listen for yourself (volume up)....

Most decidedly not the manners of a Princess.

Operation

2011-01-28T11:06:00.000-08:00

And I'm not talking about the game! My sweet man HS had an operation on Wednesday to repair a inguinal hernia in his hip (often called a sportsman hernia it is most likely from the time he spent running marathons). So for the past few days I've been playing nurse! I've told him that if he's a good boy I'll go rent that sexy little white frock (joking! I'd look freakin' ridiculous! *shudders at the thought*) But if he's not a good patient then he'll discover that Nurse Ratchet aint got nothin' on me! So far I've had to be a little bit of both:)

This kind of operation, we were told, causes very intense pain for a few days after the surgery (even with the "good stuff" pain medication) followed by a very quick recovery.... so, as hard as it has been in the past few days it is nice to know that he'll be on his feet soon. And that there is hope for a full nights sleep soon too... I'm tired. Veeeery tired. Three nights of barely any sleep and I'm done... which leads me to wonder... How, HOW on God's green Earth do you mothers with babies do it!?! For MONTHS!!! (or years) With other children and a household to look after!

I am in awe... just in awe.

*shakes head in wonder*

Hey Good Lookin'! Whatchya Got Cookin'?

2011-01-24T21:42:00.000-08:00

This morning, (at 8am I might add which is eeeearly for me) I found myself sitting in the dentist's chair trying to prepare myself for my first ever root canal. The procedure went fine (it will be finished next week) and it wasnt too painful whereas the bill, on the other hand... OUCH! Having no dental coverage blows! My root canal alone will end up costing around seven or eight hundred. *groan*

Anyways, as I was waiting for the freezing to take effect I was listening to the hygienist and the dentist chit chat and one of the topics was how the dentist's sixteen-year-old daughter doesn't know how to cook anything more than Kraft Dinner and does a poor job of it at that! The hygienist (who looked to be in her mid-twenties) then commented that she didnt know how to cook a thing when she got married and still isnt great in the kitchen. I was a little surprised. My Mom had my sister and I baking at a young age and helping with dinner by our teens. While I was a little more keen in the kitchen than my sister we both were able to prepare basic meals by the time we left home. Remember that old expression, "The way to a man's heart is through his stomach"? Well, I believe that is, at least in part, true. Mind you my evil stepmother used to say "If you think the way to a man's heart is through his stomach than you're aiming too high!" ... but we'll leave that discussion for another day, yah? :D

Call me old fashioned but I take pride in and enjoy providing my man with good home cooked meals and am fortunate that I had a mother who was also a good cook and who took the time to teach us how to prepare some good meals. The time she invested early on is paying off in spades now as my sister and I (being 28 and 31) have slowly begun to do more and more of the cooking at our big family suppers leaving my Mom and my Aunt free to do more important things... like sip paralyzers and "supervise" from the comfort of the sofa. Okay, I'm lying, they still do a lot but Fel and I are both happy to be able to do a lot more of the cooking and so far everything we've produced has been pretty dang tasty.

I do wonder if the heart warming pride and satisfaction that comes from putting good old fashion home cookin' on the table will survive in future generations of women. I guess time will tell.

Every Rider MUST do This!!

2011-01-22T23:58:00.000-08:00

A few years back I was participating in a clinic in which my guru (trainer) gave the group an exercise that I think is one of the most valuable I’ve ever come across… the only problem with the damn thing is that it requires a somewhat reserved and conscientious person, such as my self, to put themselves in a high socially awkward position.... okay it isnt that bad but trust me, it feels a little odd to straddle a complete stranger and ride them like they are a pony! Let me tell you! So get this- there were ten people in the clinic and, naturally, I was paired with a sweet (though somewhat dimwitted) 50-something year-old woman we’ll call Twiggy as she had about as much weight and substance as my left thigh. Twiggy and I were instructed to have one partner kneel on all fours on the ground and the other to sit on their back (as one would sit on a horse)… you might say I had an image pass before my eyes of the poor wee woman squished flat beneath me like that guy who got steamrollered in Who Framed Roger Rabbit. Thus, I quickly dropped to my hands and knees and assumed the position. Twiggy, with no reserve at all, hopped on my back and the exercise began.

The idea was to have the “rider” move in various ways in an attempt to demonstrate to the “horse” (me) just how acutely a horse can feel our body position, weight and movements. The Guru wanted us to appreciate how easily “feel” can be communicated and how affective even a light cue can be.

Personally it was one of the most "ah-ha" (the sound of the proverbial light bulb turning on in my head) moments in my horsey life. When it came time for my partner to have a turn I was able to destribute much of my weight into my feet... though I really only perched myself lightly on her tiny frame I did continue to fear that at any moment she might go"splat". In any event, poor Twiggy survived and we both walked away much the wiser.

I would highly recommend that every single horseman try this exercise. Find someone (of the appropriate weight and size) to sit on your back. It helps if that person is a rider so that they can demonstrate real life examples of how we move as horsemen. Have them turn their head (only) left, then right… have them turn their shoulders, twist their hips, rock forward as if to create impulsion, sit back in their seat, look over their shoulder, all of the things that we do as riders. Have them put their outside leg “on” and open their inside leg and feel how naturally the “horses” body wants to move in to the space created. I think you’ll be surprised by how easily you can feel a motion as little as the “rider” turning their head in one direction or the other.

Let me know what you think!

Addicted To Polyvore...

2011-01-21T00:41:00.000-08:00

From The Old Trunk by cqhorse featuring lace up booties

Sass by cqhorse featuring gold sunglasses

Naughty and Nice by cqhorse featuring vintage clothing dresses

Gettin' Them Rode

2011-01-19T22:48:00.000-08:00

As with cleaning stalls, grooming, pony rides, and braiding tails, the excitement of all things novel are often short lived. I feel the need to preface my upcoming comment with that admission because I know that while this is fun for me now it is a lot of damn hard work to keep horses conditioned. With that being said, I've secretly (oh who am I kidding, it's no secret) wanted to have two riding horses, and I should qualify that I've wanted two sound, functioning riding horses in the same barn that I can ride and work on the same day. I dont know why exactly... or maybe I do....the truth is that having more than one horse that needs work (not just a horse you ride recreationally) is something that in mind is reserved for the hardcore horseman. Or maybe it is that I just love being at the barn so much and having another horse to get rode gives me an excuse to stay longer.

Anyways, this week I've been getting lots or riding in on both my own Princess as well as her pasture mate Marm. Marm is a 12-year-old QH mare with a lot of past training in her but she hasnt seen hard work in years and is a lttle rusty. Marm's Mom would like to see her get back in shape and asked me to help out. My own girl also needs miles and some foundation work. How qualified I am to be doing foundation training is questionable but I cant afford a trainer and she's all mine so I guess that makes me the girl for the job. I'm going to do my best by her which means arena time and lots of wet saddle pads. So this afternoon I headed to the barn with the plan to get both horses rode. And I did:) I took Princess out first and she was just a gem, leaving the barn and Marm (who was freaking right out) behind without so much as a backwards glance. Marm on the other hand... not so much. She is a sensible mare with a good mind and heart but she's so attached to Princess it isnt even funny and today she just about lost her noodle at the idea of being away from P. I was a little proud of myself for dealing with her antics with measured patience and calm nerves. I just ignored her bulging eyes, got on and got her rode. She really is a good girl, she just needs to get a few more rides out on her own to get back in the swing of things. More on that later. For now here is a little video from the other day. I am on Marm and Princess is standing tied in the barn waiting her turn.

...and yes, that would be my abnoxious voice in the background talking nonsense again.

Horse Blanket System

2011-01-18T23:05:00.000-08:00

Only horse people could have multiple points of view on how to do something as simple as putting a blanket on a horse. On this I think we can agree- a horse blanket usually has two buckles together at the front, two belly straps and two straps and a specific end for the head and tail. That is about where our ability to universally agree comes to an end.

What size of blanket (a little too small vs a little too big), the length of straps (loose or tight), to cross or not to cross (the back straps), not to mention other variables like blanket type, material, weight or whether to blanket at all etc. are just a few of the many subjects that are left to personal opinion.

Do you have a system for how take on and off a blanket?...which buckles to do up or undo first? I do. I even have a system to how I fold the blanket as I take it off so that I'll be able to put it back on with ease.

Personally, to take off a blanket, I start with the back straps, then the belly, then the front. My theory is that if things go wrong (my horse blows up) while I'm taking off the blanket I'd rather the blanket stay on in the front than dangle off the rear where it will set my horse off further by "chasing" her as it trails behind. When putting on a blanket I start at the front and work my way back.

Once the blanket if fully unbuckled I take the front piece and fold it back over the withers, then flip that over so that it is a folded section sitting on the rear, then I take it off... when i put it back on I place the blanket over the rear and unfold it as I pull it up towards the front.

I prefer very short belly straps, my theory being that the closer the strap is to the belly the less likely it is that my horse can get her foot stuck in it. I cross the back straps and prefer them short as well, so that the loop falls just a few inches below where the buttocks meet. In the front I pull the lower chest strap fairly snug but leave the top strap (that closes the neck) three or so holes longer... I figure the bottom buckle will keep the blanket forward while the top buckle will allow plenty of neck room.

As I've mentioned before I think it is really important that when I blanket I constantly monitor that the weight of the blanket is appropriate for the temperature. Most importantly I think it is critical that if a horse is going to be outside in the rain the blanket must be absolutely waterproof, not just water resistant. There is nothing worse than having a wet horse under a wet blanket.

But then that is just MHO (my humble opinion). I'd love to hear yours!

A Rolling Stone Gathers No...

2011-01-15T23:34:00.001-08:00

Equine Shock Collars?!?!

2011-01-14T16:27:00.000-08:00

You heard me! An equine shock collar! Why do I feel like I'm the last one to hear of these things?

So this afternoon I am browsing through some e-bay items when I saw a link and a little picture that, at first blush, appeared to be a cribbing collar. Even the name, "Vice Breaker" didn't immediately draw my eye but just as I was about to skip on past I noticed what looked like a little remote control device in the picture. Curious, I hit the link and then stared in awe and wonder (I was gobsmacked!) at the larger picture before my eyes! Why, it wasn't a cribbing caller at all! The collar, with little box and prongs and a hand held remote clearly indicated a shock collar! I quickly scanned the ad for conformation but it seemed they very pointedly avoided using the word "shock" (using "correction", "stimulation levels", and "trainer" in it's place) however, sure enough, there towards the end a larger picture read, "SHOCKING- only in how effective it can be in stopping vices and bad habits" and shockingly, to me anyways, was that the product was endorsed by none other than Clinton Anderson.

I have to admit that I didn't quite know what to think. I googled the product and read some of the hoop-dee-law and there were some valid points to the argument for using a shock collar to correct self destructive or dangerous behavior. I found myself humming and hawing trying to decide if I really believe that a shock collar was in the best interest of the horse as they claimed (protecting the horse from itself or others). My first impression was that it was a "cheater" product designed to eliminate the kind of problems that only exist in the first place because of the stressful environments, demands and misuse we impose on our horses. For every argument I could come up with for the use of a shock collar I could find one to counter it.

For example, a cribber. We all know the safety issues not to mention costly damage created by a cribber. However, most of the time those behaviors are created by stress, confinement or boredom. Is it our right to expect that every horse should stand in a stall happily or at least uncomplaining? Should we prevent him from venting his frustration or boredom? I'm not suggesting that you should let a horse crib but I am suggesting that maybe a horse should be removed from a stall if he is beginning to crib. Note my use of the word "beginning". I have known many horses that have continued to crib long after they were removed from the environment that started them on that path (my understanding is that they become addicted to the endorphins that are released during the cribbing action.) So what then? I guess using a shock collar to create a negative response to the behavior might be, at that point, justified?

The gray area of any such device or negative correction is where I find the biggest cause for concern. There are plenty of credible reasons to use negative correction (something that creates discomfort or pain) but I think that too often when we correct the behavior rather than the underlying problem and in doing so we just divert that problem elsewhere- like bopping the gopher head at a fair, it'll just pop up another hole. My concern with the idea of using this collar stems not from all the ways in which it could be effectively, safely and humanely used but in all the ways it could punish the horse for our own mistakes. For example, if my horse tries to nip me when I am cinching him I need to look to see that the saddle fits, there is no girth sores, pinched spots, that I am not over tightening the girth etc... if I used a shock collar to keep him from nipping me I'd probably just end up with a bucking horse instead!

Do I agree with the use of shock collars on horses? *shrugs shoulders* Maybe. Sometimes. Depends...

My real concern lies with the people behind the remote control. I've seen a person yield a stud chain and spurs in ways that hurt a horse ten times more than what any shock collar ever could. It's a little like the use and ownership of firearms... but we'll leave that for another day!

Good Bye Sweet Saddle-oh-mine.

2011-01-12T12:08:00.000-08:00

Yesterday afternoon my Mom and I headed "across the line" (from Canada in to the US) in order to...

*chokes back tears*

...drop off my boxed saddle at a Fedex outlet.

*stifles a cry*

No seriously, I know it sounds crazy and a little materialistic but...

When I walked in to the office with my saddle in a big white box and I realized that at any moment I was going to have to hand it over and I'd never again in my life see that beautiful piece of leather, I got pretty choked up about it. So much so that, when it came my turn at the counter, I found I couldnt let the box go! The big sweaty fat man behind the counter looked at me funny when I became all flushed and wet eyed and told him I needed to say good-bye "just one last time"... and he didnt look too impressed when I opened up the box to steal one last tender stroke of that soft cream leather seat. So what if I clasped my hand around that worn-smooth horn and gripped it tight in a final embrace! That wee horn hand saved my hide a time or two! Maybe I went a little far when, blinking back tears, I traced the lines of that beautiful acorn and floral tooling with my fingertips, pausing over those rough patches- each blemish a chapter in the story of a saddle well used. Finally I nodded my head as a graveside widow would to que the casket to be lowered. And he began to seal up the box. With every pull of the tape I could feel the memories of my time in that saddle unwind... the good and the bad.... Lundbom, Shaunti. Abby, Kari, my first ride on Princess... of those lonely horseless days where I would slip into the garage, pull out my Bob's and find my lost cowgirl self in it's plush deep seat.

So why did I sell it?

Because I am a fool. A fool to have ever thought I could let it go as if it were nothing but a tool. A fool to think it could be replaced. A fool to, when I realized my mistake, not refund the buyers money and cancel the sale....just because "it does feel like the right thing to do"....damn those morals shmorals. So what the saddle didnt fit Princess! It wasnt going to kill her!

It is just a saddle. But I really did love it. So, I've decided that rather than buy another saddle as I had planned, I am going take that money and fulfill a lifelong dream of mine...

I am going to Europe this spring.

Italy. France. Spain. Maybe even Egypt.

I tried to keep that in mind as I walked out of the post office empty handed.

As we drove away my Mom said, "When you are standing on the shores of Santorini you'll look back at this moment and you wont regret that you sold the saddle."

I looked her, burst in the tears and said, "I sure the hell hope so!"

Reba says cowgirls dont cry. But.... as right now all I've got is a big paint horse named Princess and an black English saddle, I think I'm pretty much exempt from that rule.

Farewell my friend! Thanks for the good rides.

The Bee Gees

2011-01-09T19:27:00.000-08:00

Sorry for the lack of posts lately (she says as if someone cares:) I've been both a little bit busy and a little bit uninspired...

Hence the post about being uninspired.

Who wants to hear that dribble, right? Right.

So.... How'bout em' Dodgers? They are a basketball team right? Or was it baseball? Baseball!

DB and I are of two very different schools of thought when it comes to sports. He thinks sports matter. I dont. Ever so often he'll say, "Quick, what team does ____ play for? (fill in blank with some universally recognized athlete) My answer, (said immediately and as if the answer was obvious, which it would be to some) goes something like, "The Denver Wild Cats!" or "The Winnipeg Brown Bawlers!"

He likes to play the same game with songs on the radio that (in his mind) are classics and thus (in his mind) should be universally recognized. He says, "Quick! Who sings this song!" and I say (my patented answer), "Engelbert Humperdink!" And he says, "No seriously, you have to know this!" To which I reply, "No seriously, this song sucks! And... AND, just so you know, last got air play in about the same era as acid wash jeans and mullets...which, by the way, was shortly before I was born so I'm terribly sorry if this isnt exactly in my freakin' repertoire." This is about when he shakes his head in wonder and mumbles something about "Nights on Broadway and Bee Gees...

Arent you glad I posted something for you today?

(I would write *crickets* here if it weren't so self deprecating)

So... how'bout em' Dodgers?

Stupid Video of Stupid Questions I Ask My Horse

2011-01-05T10:32:00.000-08:00

Warning: watching this video is guaranteed to waste exactly one minute thirty two seconds of your life. I just thought you'd like to know...

(make sure your VOLUME is ON to view)

The Hobbit Story...

2011-01-03T22:56:00.000-08:00

The week before Christmas I was told a story by my sister that she heard from a co-worker who claimed to have heard this story first hand from the very people who had experienced this very unfortunate (and abashedly funny) situation. Did any of that make sense? Basically it is a story about a foster child with some developmental problems.... and a hobbit. Not exactly the kind of story I generally find funny (I'm not one to push the politically or ethically correct boundaries) but the fact that it was suppose to be true made it so very tempting to repeat. But then this afternoon my sister was talking to her sister-in-law in Ontario and they discovered that they had both heard this story as a first-person account. They were surprised (and a little disappointed) to hear that it was a new and unknown (to us) urban myth.

So, my question to you is...

Have you heard the "Hobbit" story?

Love is in the Fuzzy Details

2010-12-30T20:08:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I took these shots of P's pasture mate M... a sweet red dun mare with a big soft eye and a coat so soft and fuzzy I just cant keep my hands off of her.

Who wouldnt want to sink their fingers into that ultra lush and plush fur behind her ears....

And tickle the course long hairs that sprout from her ever expressive lip...

Or bury your frozen hands beneath the thickness of her dun streaked mane and feel them tingle from the heat trapped within.

Sometimes I find myself pausing as I pass her by...I stop and wonder at the gentle kindness within the depths of those deep brown eyes...

And at some point along the way I realized that while I love all of her fuzzy details, I've come to love the mare.

div>But she is not for sale.

And I cant have another horse.

But her full sister is for sale...

*devious grin*

*taps her fingers, squints, cocks eyebrow and makes other outward signs of inward plotting*

Merry Christmas

2010-12-25T00:52:00.001-08:00

Just wanted to wish you all a very Merry Christmas! Many blessings to you and yours.

Love,

Chelsi and Family

The Socks Must Come Off!

2010-12-22T23:26:00.001-08:00

I know this post is very unchristmasy (shush, I like made up words) but I had this discussion last night with a waitress and simply had to address it to my friends in bloggerdome!

Do you agree or disagree...

The socks must come off!!

Yah... you know what I'm talkin' about *suggestive wink*

In your relationship is this a request or requirement?

(or maybe you dont care at all)...

How to Resist Christmas Goodies!

2010-12-21T18:56:00.000-08:00

I have inadvertently discovered an easy way to resist those often irresistible Christmas goodies! It is simple... just a little Koppertox applied to the hands and voila! Every bite you take will be overwhelmed by the pungent odor making eating any food, (such as the delicious grilled cheese sandwich I had hoped to have for supper) nearly impossible to enjoy!

And as an extra bonus you get to show your Christmas spirit by sporting vibrant green stains all over your hands!

*bland stare*

Note to self: Use rubber gloves when applying Koppertox to my horses feet.

And We Galloped...

2010-12-20T11:31:00.000-08:00

On Friday I took my LP out for a long hard ride.

On Saturday I refrained from walking down stairs, sitting, standing, or doing much of anything.

On Sunday I took some Advil and poached myself in a hot tub for an hour.

On Tuesday I will reclaim my self respect, dignity and (wannabe) cowgirl reputation and forever thereafter deny the following admission...

As a result of that single solitary ride I was one freakin' hurtin unit this weekend. I mean the kind of hurtin where muscles not only protest but actually full-out boycott, form a strike committee and draw up picket with signs that read, "We will not bend!"...

Did I go to far?

Sorry.

Why was I sore? One word: Gallop.

My Little Princes and I galloped. And galloped. And galloped some more. And I discovered that my mare L.O.V.E.S. to gallop and thankfully, she's pretty dang good at it too!

I am not a relaxed galloper outside of an arena... or really even at times inside an arena if the footing is bad or sharp turns are required. Inside the arena I worry about my horse going down. Outside the arena I worry about gopher holes, hidden logs, loose rock, shadows, birds, horse-eating-rocks and an other manner of objects that can pop up out of nowhere to spook or trip up my pony. And then there is the fear of the blind runner, because I've been on one of those before and until you've experienced it for yourself you can imagine just how terrifying it can be. I also had an accident once on my old gelding where he randomly and seemingly without reason decided to run off the road and in to a ditch. I wasnt hurt but after picking myself up and dusting myself off I did discover a group of boys, seniors in my high school no less, were standing near by and had witnessed my demise, much to their amusement. And naturally one of them was the object of my (many) teenage crushes ...

My point is that I'm not the kinda girl who confidently and haphazardly goes running all over hells half acre seemingly without a care in the world. But on LP I found a certain confidence I've never felt at a gallop, not because she was slow, because she wasnt. Not because she felt easily contained, because she wasnt. But because she ran so within herself. The stretch of ground was clear and smooth, and rolled out in a long line before us. Her cadence was even and balanced. Her ears pricked forward and body- gathering and bunching then stretching and pulling ground beneath me. Her power was evident. Her stride, seemingly effortless. To my memory it was the most beautiful gallop I've ever ridden. The sun was sitting low to the west, affording me the view of our shadow stretched out over the grasses of a neighboring field.

It was this moment...

Only except my horse is white...

And I was wearing clothes...

And I had a saddle and was not on the beach... and I'm a girl... but you get my point.

So I couldnt walk this weekend. That seems a small price to pay for one of the greatest rides of my life.

A Sensible Car

2010-12-17T00:18:00.000-08:00

For the past year I have been driving a very sensible car... I italicize that "sensible" because while there are many words I could use to describe my 2003 Civic (ie- economic and reliable), sexy is most certainly not the word that comes to mind.... Nor does the terms character, originality or personality. Civics are common, to say the least. I've walked out a store and gone to get in to my car a number of times in the past year only to find that my key less entry wouldn't work because the car I was trying to enter was not my own. Embarrassing? Yes.

I think most people would agree that the car you drive, it's color, cleanliness and finishings, often reflect something of who you are as a person, or at least how you'd like to be viewed. Because I have spent a year driving a car that reflects nothing of who I am, or who I want to be, I can appreciate all the more vehicles with real character. I have always wanted an old classic truck. The closest I have ever come was when I had my 1983 F-250 (lovely named San Jose)... but, while she might have qualified as old, she was far from classic. There have been a number of "classics" owned by friends over the years that I have coveted... see my favorites pictured below.

I have decided to sell my car and buy a truck (and hopefully a horse trailer too). While I know I have to be smart and buy something that I am going to be able to haul with... not to mention reliable, safe, and somewhat economical.... I am so sorely tempted to indulge in that life long dream and purchase a truck that will make my heart go pitter patter.

A girl can dream (of trucks).

1972 Ford F100

1969 Ford Bronco

1979 Toyota Land Cruiser FJ40

1970 SS 454 El Camino

1971 Chev Blazer

1972 GMC 4x4

Too Funny...

2010-12-15T00:13:00.001-08:00

Bob Marshall Treeless?

2010-12-13T18:27:00.000-08:00

Lately I've been bantering around the idea of looking at a Bob Marshall treeless saddle. Back in 08 I did my research on them but I ended up going with a Bob's Custom (entirely different (treed) brand ... who knew that "bob" would be such a popular name in saddle making!)

Now that I'm back to looking at saddles again I've been keeping my ears open to what people are saying and it seems like I keep hearing time and again that the treeless Bob Marshalls are the way to go. Those who have one claim that once you've gone treeless you wont go back! And I am even more suprised that they are popular in the barrel racing world (a sport where the security of your seat would be more than a little important!)

Also, I was told that there is a difference between the origonal Bob Marshalls and the Circle Y Bob Marshall. Anyways, I just thought I would put the word out there and see if anyone had anything good (or bad) to say about the saddle. The concept of a treeless saddle makes sense to me but I just wish I had the chance to try one out for a good length of time without having to make a big purchase.

Silent Sunday Still

2010-12-12T01:20:00.000-08:00

(double click image to see large version.)

Princess of all Trades

2010-12-10T11:55:00.000-08:00

(I snapped this pic quick to show P in her Simple boots and english saddle. The result is proof that I can take a REALLY (really really really) bad picture! While in real life she certainly doesnt look at all FUGLY, as she does in the photo, she actually does look just about that ridiculous in her English saddle. Sorry P!)

Princess... *deep sigh* (Still not lovin' the name) is doing really well. I really like this mare. The word that first comes to mind when I think of P is gentle. Her mannerisms on the ground...the way she steps, eats, and interacts with people is soft, fluid, dainty and ultimately gentle. The words that do not come to mind are sassy, snappy, sharp, quick witted and complicated. I love how nice and quiet she is to be around... but I also sometimes miss the challenge and passion that can come with a horse that challenges you... which is why I'm glad she isnt as passive under saddle as she is on the ground.

I love riding this mare. I dont know if I've ever ridden a horse that so doesnt fit in to one category or another. She isnt that super quiet dog and isnt a hot firecracker performance horse either. See my post on the topic of Creating vs Containing Energy here.

P is quiet and very sensible in her own way but she's also insecure, worried and forward. She has a very strong, powerful way of going, a ground covering, smooooth and effortless stride but she isnt super athletic and has no cow horse snap. I have never had to create energy in her, she is always eager to move out and move forward but I dont have to work very hard to contain her energy either. I would never call her hot. I wouldnt hesitate to put a complete beginner on her and let them ride her around the arena but I would never dream of sending them down the trail. To those thing she has become accustomed P is a bombproof as they come... I've had a massive tractor hauling an 18 foot trailer pass us on the road not ten feet from her and she doesn't so much as bat an eyelash, she will step over logs and through water and she will squeeze herself through the narrowest gap out on the trail but these railway tracks (photo below), in her mind, are the epitome of a horsey death trap. The train- not a problem at all! The tracks- big freakin deal. Silly mare.

What I love most about P is that she is not a bitch. Not even a little. And on the rare occasion she does get bitchy about something it is almost comical... a quick swat on her shoulder with the end of the reins and she is like, "Oh! *nods amicably* I see your point!" That is not to say that the majority of the time she responds well to negative correction. P needs to be encouraged and supported with firm but clear and fair direction but if you get in to her and start pushing too hard she just breaks down, looses all her confidence and then there is no reasoning with her. I like being her leader because I feel my job is not to just control her but to encourage her to be bolder.

I still have no idea what, if any, discipline best suits P. She doesnt have a strength but also doesnt really have a weakness either. She is just enough of everything but not quite enough of one thing. I think she just might be a true jack-of-all-trades-king-of-none horse... I guess in that way the name "Princess" might suit her after all.

One would definitely not want to do this...

2010-12-09T22:50:00.000-08:00

Okay, so... Here is what you do not want to do...

If one day you you happen to hear two people talking about something of suggestive nature and in that conversation they make reference to an innuendo that is unknown to you... an innuendo that sounds suspiciously sexual and intriguingly freakish but the meaning of which eludes you...

... if that happens, what you don't want to do is...

.... you don't want to use google to satisfy that curiosity. Oooh no, don't do it.

Do this- smile mischievously like you are totally in on the uptake... or you could even go with the "You're so naughty (and I kinda dig it)" sly smile, 'cause that's always cool.

But don't act on impulse... some mysteries are best left unexplored Judith, trust me on this.

But for those of you who just cant take advice... those who buck authority... to all those lonely, horny, totally socially inept hackers who proclaim "information wants to be free!" (or was that just in the movie?) ... to you I say this...

If for whatever reason, drinking, drugs, a dare, boredom, etc. you did decide to pick up that laptop and type in those seemingly harmless and inconspicuous words of mystery...

... don't reference urban dictionary.... definitely not urbandictionary.com

But... if you were so inclined one could look up one's own name on urbandictionary.com and learn some very interesting things about one's self. But "one" would definitely not want to do that if one was faint of heart....

The filth that is on that website... *shakes head in wonder*

Chex Nu Jewel

2010-12-08T20:59:00.000-08:00

My friend Marcy McBride posted pictures of her beautiful Nu Chex To Cash son, Chex Nu Jewel on facebook and they were just so awesome I had to share! Jewel stands at McBrides Quarter Horses.