Been cold around these parts lately, breezy and freezing. The boys are making it a habit to stay in the barn overnight. With their winter coats on. Yes, THAT cold.
Frosty mornings, windy nights, they really need to come in. And they ask to come in, so how could I say 'no.' He put their blankets on Tuesday, and they wore them until Friday morning. Friday morning it was 29 degrees, but warming up to high 50s during the day.
On Tuesday he got a good supply of sawdust, in plastic bales, storing in the shed. This could last most of the season, because they don't stay in every night. Sawdust is easier to clean up than shavings.
Also have closed the top of their Dutch doors, while keeping the barn aisle door at one end wide enough for Sprite and Lil Fred to come and go as they want.
Friday, November 15, 2013
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
Fear
Fearful, Fearsome, Fearless
Which are you? Which is me? I tell anyone that will listen that I'm not a good rider. I'm not. I learned all the bad habits as a child, as an adult these cannot be corrected, even with excellent teachers, mentors, books, DVDs, and tutors.
I've seen good riders. The riders with a good seat, soft hands, body control, spine of steel sitting on a bucking horse. I'm not a good rider.
I'm not a good rider, but I'm fearless. I'm not dangerous (my opinion) or reckless. I take my horse's ability into consideration, don't get too far past his comfort zone. Or mine. You won't catch me Eventing, or showing, or doing acrobatic feats. I'm not a good rider.
However, I find it hard to wrap my head around fearful riders. I know so many. Sitting on that horse like a little hunchback, toes pointing into the dirt, wearing the stirrup like an anklet, fetal position. Death grip on the reins.
I'm not a good rider, and my horse doesn't know any better. I'm totally aware of his short-comings and accept them. He's unique, like everybody else. It's no stretch to imagine him stumbling over a log, or down an embankment. Because of this I try to sit straight up, heels down, knees in, shoulders back. Sometimes he disappears entirely from my view - no head, no ears, no mane - no horse! I remain in the middle of his back and wait for him to catch himself, staying out of his way.
I try not to ride with fearful riders, the riders that are afraid of their horses, afraid of what their horse might do or not do. Afraid of their surroundings, of other riders, bicycles, rocky trails, or dogs. Some I've wonder why they even have a horse, why they ride at all, why they stick with the same teacher.
Life is too short to be scared. Horses are a choice, not a requirement, don't have to do it if you don't feel comfortable. Pick another teacher, another horse, another pastime.
Which are you? Which is me? I tell anyone that will listen that I'm not a good rider. I'm not. I learned all the bad habits as a child, as an adult these cannot be corrected, even with excellent teachers, mentors, books, DVDs, and tutors.
I've seen good riders. The riders with a good seat, soft hands, body control, spine of steel sitting on a bucking horse. I'm not a good rider.
I'm not a good rider, but I'm fearless. I'm not dangerous (my opinion) or reckless. I take my horse's ability into consideration, don't get too far past his comfort zone. Or mine. You won't catch me Eventing, or showing, or doing acrobatic feats. I'm not a good rider.
However, I find it hard to wrap my head around fearful riders. I know so many. Sitting on that horse like a little hunchback, toes pointing into the dirt, wearing the stirrup like an anklet, fetal position. Death grip on the reins.
I'm not a good rider, and my horse doesn't know any better. I'm totally aware of his short-comings and accept them. He's unique, like everybody else. It's no stretch to imagine him stumbling over a log, or down an embankment. Because of this I try to sit straight up, heels down, knees in, shoulders back. Sometimes he disappears entirely from my view - no head, no ears, no mane - no horse! I remain in the middle of his back and wait for him to catch himself, staying out of his way.
I try not to ride with fearful riders, the riders that are afraid of their horses, afraid of what their horse might do or not do. Afraid of their surroundings, of other riders, bicycles, rocky trails, or dogs. Some I've wonder why they even have a horse, why they ride at all, why they stick with the same teacher.
Life is too short to be scared. Horses are a choice, not a requirement, don't have to do it if you don't feel comfortable. Pick another teacher, another horse, another pastime.
Monday, November 4, 2013
Daylight Saving Ends
I could barely stay awake, not making it to 10:00 p.m. Then I'm awake at 3:37 a.m. And then again at 4:32 a.m., and on and on until I give up at 6:25 a.m. and leave the bed. Chilly overnight, the trough has a slight skim of ice. 
The time shift has made it possible to do barn chores in some daylight. It will be dark for evening chores. I'm going to miss the daylight hours spent at home, not to be seen again until mid-January.
The time shift has made it possible to do barn chores in some daylight. It will be dark for evening chores. I'm going to miss the daylight hours spent at home, not to be seen again until mid-January.
Sunday, November 3, 2013
Saturday, November 2, 2013
Sunny Saturday - Nail Salon and Ride Time
Last Saturday KC lost a shoe. Already scheduled the farrier appointment, no need to have her out for an 'emergency' visit. After the Friday night excitement it was good to get back to routine, even if it does smell like Skunk. Up early, boys in their stalls, hay cleaned up from the barn aisle, tractor tucked away.
He had a task at our old house, taking the down-time
to accomplish that. He returned sooner than expected, so we took advantage of the bright fall day and hit the trail.
We parked at the Agriculture Museum and Farm Park, which was hosting a Blacksmith demonstration. We stopped in to see the goats and their care-taker, Cindy. She has some great goats, gently raised by 4-H members. These goats are very friendly.
She let us know that someone fed two of the goats chocolate on Halloween, they had to be neutralized. He thought she said 'euthanized,' but she meant they were given a peroxide antidote for the toxic chemicals in chocolate that horses and goats cannot consume.
The boys enjoyed several children petting them and hand feeding them clover and grass. The trails at the Ag Park are in terrible condition; big trees down, Multi-flora Rose flourishing, etc.
When we got back, Sprite and Lil Fred were down in the corner of their paddock, near the Skunk carcass. Sprite came up to see us, but Fred was still at the fence, so I walked towards him to check the status of the dead vermin. A buzzard flew up, spooking Fred, who did a roll-back and high-tailed it out of there.
He had a task at our old house, taking the down-time
We parked at the Agriculture Museum and Farm Park, which was hosting a Blacksmith demonstration. We stopped in to see the goats and their care-taker, Cindy. She has some great goats, gently raised by 4-H members. These goats are very friendly.
She let us know that someone fed two of the goats chocolate on Halloween, they had to be neutralized. He thought she said 'euthanized,' but she meant they were given a peroxide antidote for the toxic chemicals in chocolate that horses and goats cannot consume.
The boys enjoyed several children petting them and hand feeding them clover and grass. The trails at the Ag Park are in terrible condition; big trees down, Multi-flora Rose flourishing, etc.
When we got back, Sprite and Lil Fred were down in the corner of their paddock, near the Skunk carcass. Sprite came up to see us, but Fred was still at the fence, so I walked towards him to check the status of the dead vermin. A buzzard flew up, spooking Fred, who did a roll-back and high-tailed it out of there.
Friday, November 1, 2013
Homicide
Might have mentioned before we have a resident Skunk. This would be great except for the odor. The sulfur smell can be overwhelming at times. We've not been able to keep the windows open at night. Lately, also, the boys have smelled like a Skunk. 
Earlier in the week, after he had relamped all the exterior fixtures with clearer, cleaner light, and while tucking the boys in for the night, I realized the Skunk was really close to the boys and me. He was going about his business, doing Skunk things in the pasture. But he was only about thirty feet from me.
KC is notoriously food-aggressive. Takes no imagination to envision him chasing anything that threatens his hay pile, except for Skip. I've seen him chase cats, dogs, birds, and other horses. Very territorial. No stretch to see him doing that to a Skunk and getting sprayed.
Saw the Skunk again, in the pasture, close up on Thursday.
Saw the Skunk on Friday evening - only about 20 feet from the water trough. I called him on the phone, 'come out and see the Skunk, he's so close!"
He came out with a .22 Rifle.
He shot the Skunk, and then finished him off with the pitch-fork. Threw the body over the fence, south of the burn pile. The stench still lingers.
Earlier in the week, after he had relamped all the exterior fixtures with clearer, cleaner light, and while tucking the boys in for the night, I realized the Skunk was really close to the boys and me. He was going about his business, doing Skunk things in the pasture. But he was only about thirty feet from me.
KC is notoriously food-aggressive. Takes no imagination to envision him chasing anything that threatens his hay pile, except for Skip. I've seen him chase cats, dogs, birds, and other horses. Very territorial. No stretch to see him doing that to a Skunk and getting sprayed.
Saw the Skunk again, in the pasture, close up on Thursday.
Saw the Skunk on Friday evening - only about 20 feet from the water trough. I called him on the phone, 'come out and see the Skunk, he's so close!"
He came out with a .22 Rifle.
He shot the Skunk, and then finished him off with the pitch-fork. Threw the body over the fence, south of the burn pile. The stench still lingers.
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