WYL #27 Happiness

Last weeks topic was happiness. While I have had so many happy memories, not to mention having had an overall happy life, these few hours stand out. I’ll let the story tell the rest.

~

A piece of straw stuck into my neck as I tried to get comfortable. The bed was hard and unyielding, but I'd done my best to make a cosy nest, and since the weather had taken a turn for the worse I was bundled up to my ears. This was my third night on watch and I was hoping it would be my last. I'd already checked Dora's milk umpteen times that day and was certain I'd seen a slight change. I lay there watching her as I tried to read my book; she seemed restless, like she was trying to get comfortable, stirring the butterflies in my already churning stomach. Throwing back the blankets, I got out of bed to check her milk yet again, but there was nothing obvious. I stood close to her, feeling her pendulous abdomen for signs of life - a heavy sigh escaped her and I felt myself relax a bit. Glancing up at the clock on the wall, I saw it was 9:30pm and almost time for lights out, so I made a final dash to the house.

Stepping back into the barn I was relived to see Dora still standing - I hadn't missed anything. After wrapping her tail "just in case", I flipped off the lights and made my way to the bed. I lay there watching her, struggling to force down the feelings of excitement that nearly overcame me - I wouldn't get any sleep at all if I got too wound up, but I'd been anticipating this event for much of my life. Just as I started to doze off I heard a quiet rustle as she lied down in the deep straw. My eyes flew open as I tried to discern if she was just asleep or if the moment was finally upon us. She lay there grunting for a moment and then laid her head down in the straw. My heart pounding, I slipped out of bed and crouched beside her, sliding my hand carefully down her haunch. As I sat there in the dim light I heard a soft whoosh - her water had broken. This was it. I put aside my excitement and got ready for action.

Quietly making my way over to the pile of supplies, I put on a waist pouch filled with the essentials and used the intercom to call back to the house. I crept back to sit behind Dora and she lifted her head giving me a soft, welcoming nicker.  With her tail pulled to the side, I could see a balloon of silvery grey material starting to protrude and a foot soon appeared, still wrapped in its slippery wrapping. I carefully slid my hand inside her to check for the other foot. It was right where it was supposed to be - good - no need to call in the vet yet. A few more pushes and I could see a nose. On the next push the rest of the head appeared. She rested for a moment and then with a great heave, he was here.

I looked over my shoulders and saw Carm standing there - the sparkle of tears in both of our eyes reflected the wonder of what had just happened. 

I quickly broke open the sac and cleared his nose so he could take his first breath - right in my lap - I gulped back the rise of emotion and got back to work. Listening to his soft, rhythmic breaths I pulled the amniotic sac back and started rubbing him dry. A gnawing question burned in my mind - colt or filly - so I slipped my hand underneath him and discerned that it was a boy. I felt a flash of disappointment - I had been hoping for a filly - but the feeling quickly passed. Dora rested on her straw bed, gaining the strength to expel the last of the pregnancy.  After a few minutes, she struggled to her feet and the afterbirth slipped from her body. I sighed with relief - all had gone well.

She turned to us, me on the floor with her new foal on my lap, and helped me dry him off.  Once that was done, I started the first phase of imprinting him,  a lengthy procedure to ready him for a life with humans. I started by touching him everywhere, until he was relaxed with each touch. Then, I gently moved his head and legs continuing until there was no resistance. I finished by rubbing a crinkly plastic bag over his body and around his legs and head. After the last plastic bag was ruffled over his head, I clambered to my feet to give the mare and foal a chance to bond.

Caught in the spell of the miracle of life, Carm and I held hands while watching the foal scramble to take his important first steps. We held our breath each time he tottered on his unsteady legs and groaned when he crashed back to the floor. It was impossible to hold back and soon we were cushioning his falls and helping him to balance against us. He soon got the hang of it and started searching for his first milk. Dora nudged him into place, nickering encouragement as he searched her belly for the nectar of life. As he suckled, I could feel her pleasure at having completed such a grand feat.

Once he had figured out his feet, and gotten his fill of milk, I went back to the house to change, but didn't linger there. Back at the barn, where all my hopes and dreams lie in a pile of straw, I sat down beside the sleeping foal, caressing his soft fur, marvelling in the perfect form.  I got up and wrapped my arms around Dora's neck, burying my face in her plush fur, and thanked her for the gift.  I'm not ashamed to say that I shed a few tears. 

For as long as I could remember I had the dream of breeding Norwegian Fjord horses. It was a fantasy that I never believed would be possible, one that I was sure would require the funding of 649. Then I met Pat Wolfe and sat in the sleigh behind his two geldings with their butter coloured haunches and fancy black stripe. My eye could not get enough of them, and moved me to increase my efforts to make my dream come true. Two years later, after searching high and low for Canadian breeders, I had my mare, Dora. The first step of my dream had come true. And with that exquisite, wobbly legged colt, I was well on my way to living the life that I had desired.

~

Earning Their Wings

I was up at the crack of dawn this morning and after taking the dogs out for a few minutes I knew I couldn't return to bed. It was just that beautiful. Instead I grabbed a coffee and headed outside to the swing. It was so peaceful and still, there was a faint mist on the horizon (my favourite vista on our property), the birds were chirping and flitting around looking for their breakfasts, the breeze occasionally stirred the tallest trees, and thankfully there wasn't much traffic on the road.

As I sat there enjoying the moment, the chatter of birds over by the barn caught my attention. Then I saw some swooping swallows. I realized that there were some newly fledged chicks learning to fly. The parents flew around them encouraging each one. It was amazing to watch them increase their prowess. At first each try was awkward with many stops, but soon they were taking slightly larger swoops away from the barn. They practiced for a while and then all at once plopped down on the barn to rest. A minute or two later they were up and away, this time with much more skill. The parents took them farther afield this time, such that I lost sight of them for a bit. Soon they were back for another short rest before trying again. It was obvious it wouldn't be long before they would be flying with the same skill as their parents.

In fact several minutes later I could see the four of them swooping (with joy?) high in the sky. I wondered if they feel exhilarated with their new found skill? Nature is amazing. How could birds, that were just learning to fly, suddenly have the athletic prowess and muscle development to take on such a feat?

As I sat there on the swing looking at the barn and the overgrown sand ring I thought of the horses. On a morning such as this I would have stuck my feet into muck boots and walked down to join the horses in their pasture. I would have stood close to them stroking their silky hides, and breathing in their sweet horsey smell. Is there any better smell in the world? I think not. I would have been enveloped by their peace. Horses are like that you know, they have a spirit that extends beyond their being.

In all the years that I had them, they helped me through the rough patches of depression. There was something about being with them that lifted my spirits to a better place, if only temporarily. When I was home on extended sick leave the daily routine of caring for them brought structure and purpose to my days. If I hadn't gone back to work, with the pressures of having a full time job on top of everything else, I'm quite certain that we would still have a few (but maybe not 11!).

However, life being what it is, I sat there and enjoyed the memories, although in all honesty I did feel a pricking of tears in my eyes.

Last night we had Trudie & Leo over for a quick supper to thank them for all the produce. The pesto pasta was fabulous. I could have sat there stuffing forkfuls of the pasta into my mouth. Carm said later that he wanted to stick his face in the bowl - it was so good. And the salad with peaches, tomatoes, cucumber, basil and a bit of baby romaine was fresh and light. The grilled zucchini was a wonderful side, and they also brought a beautiful head of broccoli. Summer produce! And with the exception of the bit of peccorino romano cheese it was vegan too.

The big job on the agenda today was clipping and bathing the poodles. I had to get them all shortened up for our next camping trip! After that was done I wandered down the laneway to open the gate for the delivery we were expecting (see post about fantastic fan). A faint smell of apples ripening perfumed the air. So sweet. I lingered...

We often have a pita something or other for lunch - today I made a spread with a can of mashed black beans, a dollop of pesto mixed in (yum), sliced green onion, cubed avocado, and cubed tomato, gently stirred together. Spread onto a 1/2 pita with a handful of spinach packed in and it was a quick, easy and yummy lunch. Not exactly our usual fat-free lunch but boy was it tasty!

For the mind disturbed, the still beauty of dawn is nature's finest balm.
Edwin Way Teale

What to Do?

1 pm and nothing to do... I can see why people get addicted to shopping. It is a sunny day but cool and windy, I feel like doing something, but what? It is too cold to go for a walk down at the St. Lawrence - I already got an earache just walking around the property. So what then? We could go for a drive, but where to? We could drive down to Morrisburg to the Basket Case for a club sandwich, but we do want to limit the off diet food. I'm not crazy about going shopping, plus the last thing we need is more stuff... I'm trying to organize and tidy all the stuff (junk) we do have. It's Saturday so museums and what not will be crowded. I'm just antsy! Oh, maybe I could clean the house... nah... skip that idea.

We are back from our outing now - we decided to take the truck for a drive to get gas, and maybe drive past one of Carm's old coworkers house, if we saw him outside we'd stop and say hello. We drove down some roads that we don't normally travel and there was something about the area that reminded me of riding when I was a kid. Maybe it was the little ravines, or perhaps the wide open fields. It could have been the colours. Whatever it was I was transported back to the winter and spring of 1975. My Mom had found this place called "Rainbow Ridge" in the small town of Grunthal, Manitoba, about an hour from Winnipeg. The old gentleman that owned the place lived in Winnipeg and went out there every Sunday with a load of kids in the back of his van. We'd have the day to ride and then he'd drive us home in time for supper. Oh what fun we had those Sundays. We'd all pile into the back of the van, sometimes with  his St. Bernard puppy, and with music playing on the radio (one of my time warp songs is "you are so beautiful, to me, can't you see..."). After the long drive we'd bundle up (it was in the winter) and run back to the field to get our ponies. Mine was a dark brown little pony named Fudge. We rode bareback so I was happy to have one where I wasn't so far from the ground when I fell. Some of the kids also had ponies, and some had bigger horses.

Once we caught them we'd brush and curry their coats till they shone. Then away we'd go. We'd ride over a wide creek and then up the side of a huge ravine. We'd have to hang onto their manes or we'd slide off their backs. At the top we'd all break into a gallop across the rolling field. From there we'd disburse into little groups - I wish I could remember the name of my friends (I went with some of them to Phantom of the Paradise). We'd hack around the countryside, sometimes on the roads, but often in fields and woods. At lunchtime we'd go back to the farm, down that same steep slope that we had gone up earlier - this wasn't my favourite part of the ride - it was hard to stay on! There was a building for us to warm up and eat our lunches in - we'd  be starving! The owner would have hotdogs and french fries that we could buy to augment our packed lunches.

Our afternoons would be more of the same. Races down the roads - my pony was fast for his size and sometimes even beat the big horses. I can close my eyes and recall that exhilarating feeling. We found an abandoned barn and dragged out bales of straw to be used for jumps. Fudge and I could jump two stacked - bareback! One of the girls was from Grunthal and introduced us to some boys from the area. My boyfriend was Jeff Broesky - I still have love letters from him (feel free to laugh, we were 12 or 13) - he wanted to be a figure skater.  He had a big golden palamino and would ride over in the morning to join us for the day. Oh - this is funny. One day a bunch of us decided to have a contest to see who could kiss the longest - so kiss we did - puckered lip to puckered lip, barely touching - I remember thinking "I could do this for a long time, but it's really boring."!  Isn't it funny the things we remember.

At the end of the day we'd groom our ponies and set them free for another week. Then we'd pile back into the van, sitting on the floor, exhausted from our day. The drive home was always pretty quiet.

Winter turned to spring and then one day we got there and my little pony was gone. In his place I'd be riding Dusty, a big pinto with the biggest withers you can imagine (remember we were riding bareback - ouch!). It turned out that the owner was selling his farm and moving to another location. He wouldn't be transporting us every weekend anymore, and some of our ponies would be sold. I begged and cried but had no luck with my parents, they wouldn't buy Fudge for me. Anyway, it was a really cool way to spend a winter, a dream come true in a way. If only when I finally got my own ponies I had the same braveness, instead of a chicken bone...

Back to now and our drive to Jim's... as luck would have it Jim was outside fixing the pasture fence by the road so we stopped for a little visit. As he and Carm caught up I looked across the wide brown fields and remembered... I felt a little melancholy. As we were driving back home Carm voice it well when he said "I wish we still had the horses". But there is a time for everything and that time isn't now.

Fjord Horse Article–Starting a Foal

This is the article that I wrote for the Norwegian Fjord Horse Registry (NFHR). I imagine it will be edited some before it gets published.

There is much that you can do during the first hours and days of your foal’s arrival to start them on the right hoof. Lessons learnt at this very important time, positive or negative, will shape the foal's behaviour for the rest of its life.

How then does one go about laying a good foundation? This was the question I set out to answer in the months leading up to the birth of our first foal. My first horse had been dangerously reactive and I knew I didn't want to repeat that scenario. Somewhere in all my reading I came across an article by Dr. Miller about his imprinting process (http://www.robertmmiller.com/imprint-training.html) - this seemed to be exactly what I was looking for! I quickly ordered his book and video, both of which I would recommend to anyone wanting to give their foal a good start. The knowledge learned there, combined with what I had learned from previous study of clicker training and operant conditioning gave me something to get started with. Over the years I added new techniques, including some from Parelli.

One April evening in 2000 our first foal, Uvaer, arrived. It was time to get started. While his mother, Dora, lay resting I started with imprinting - first towelling his body, then moving on to tapping his feet, rubbing his ears inside and out, slipping on a baby sized halter, rubbing with a plastic bag, introducing clippers, etc. All this was done in a calm and loving manner. I was careful not to frighten him or cause him undue stress. As we went through each step it was important to not stop until he was totally relaxed and accepting. Otherwise the opposite would happen - he would become sensitized to the stimulus, not at all what I was aiming for. After Dora was up I let Uvaer find his feet and have his first drink. While he was standing I went through the same steps, again making sure he remained calm. With my husband by his side to help his balance I gently lifted each foot, not putting it down until he was relaxed. With baby horse calm and accepting of us - step one was completed.

As a side note, I kept my own safety in mind while doing this. Some mares can get aggressive with anyone interfering with their new baby. I was always sure to either keep a barrier where the mare could still reach her foal, or had a helper manage the mare on a lead rope until their reactions could be gauged. I was fortunate that all our mares accepted our presence.

The following morning, I started Uvaer's next lessons. First we reviewed what was done in the initial imprinting. Any steps where there was resistance were repeated until a calm acceptance was achieved. Next on the agenda, the movement exercises. Uvaer had already learned from Dora to move from a nudge so we just built on this. In all of these exercises we started with a light pressure (or pull) and increased to an insistent (but not hard) pressure depending on the reaction we got. The aim was to have him move with just the lightest of touches.

Starting with the lead rope attached to the halter I applied a light (rope held between 2 fingers) pressure sideways, holding it until Uvaer moved his head to release the pressure. At that point I rewarded him by scratching his back. The release of pressure is also a reward but I wanted to additionally reinforce him. I repeated the exercise until he gave to the pressure right away at the lightest intensity. The exercise was repeated from the other side, and then from the front. Next I wanted to get a step in each direction. I just had to hold the pressure a little bit longer and he was stepping the right direction. More steps were added as he got more comfortable. Leading can also be done without ropes by using the pressure of your fingers.

The next skill to learn was stepping backwards and sideways. In other words, I wanted him to learn to move backwards with just a light pressure from my hand on his chest. I started by using one finger in the middle of his chest to ask him to move. The pressure was increased from the lightest of touches to a more firm touch, releasing at the first sign of backwards motion. This was repeated, waiting till he gave just little more each time. It was only a minute or two before he was stepping backward. Then the same set of steps was repeated for moving his hind quarters over.

Uvaer now had a basic foundation on which to build. We also had a foal that was comfortable around people and who could easily become a Fjord horse bull. To somewhat alleviate this we would ask for a step back, or a side step or to give his head whenever we wanted to pet him, or whenever he came up to us. Everyday we practiced something: leading – with and without a lead rope, picking up his feet and moving his body around - things that would come in handy when it was time to learn how to pull a cart or carry a rider. This gave him lots of practice doing what we asked and led to a more willing horse.

As foals were born over the next several years I added extra steps and more skills. For example, since they were comfortable with plastic bags fluttering around them we grabbed a tarp for them to practice with. They would walk over the tarp, under the tarp, they would play with the tarp and drag it around. We added tires to step in and around. A pole on the ground was added. They would drag a bag of cans, rattling and bumping their legs. A saddle blanket would whoosh over their heads and onto their backs. Mom's saddle would lightly be held on their backs (no real weight though!). We'd pick their feet up using a rope. Everything was introduced in a step by step fashion making sure not to create a phobia. We wanted things to be fun for them. Lots of scratches and rubs were given out.

The foals would gladly leave mom in the pasture to come and play with us, even from the time they were a week or two old. The mares felt confident in our ability to keep their babies safe and would relax away from them.

If you have a foal due and want to build a good foundation I would highly recommend reading the Dr. Miller materials. Learning about clicker training and the concepts of operant conditioning will teach you how to break things down into tiny, achievable steps. Many of the level 1 Parelli games can be played with a foal. All these techniques properly applied will create a horse that is a joy to be with; however, those same techniques improperly applied may create the opposite. Keep it fun and calm.

Peter Piper Picked a … Pepper

First thing Saturday morning we were out on the trail. It was a perfect morning, not too cold, full sun and no wind. Even the "naked" poodles enjoyed themselves and were reluctant to come inside.

After a cup of coffee and a few minutes of checking out other blogs I had my tablet in my lap and was typing out the first bits of the article I'm writing. It went really well and before I knew it I had 2 full pages (without the photos) of text for Carm to comment on. After getting all the changes of tense fixed up (gosh I had made a mess of that the first time through)  Carm gave it the go ahead. I sat on it overnight so that I could do a re-read in the morning at which point I changed a few more things. I'll give it another read Monday morning then off it will go. I hope Jane likes it.

Later in the afternoon I headed outside again, this time with my snowshoes. Stupidly I forgot my camera though - it was such a lovely afternoon there surely would have been some good pictures to be taken. My goal with this walk was to stamp down a new path in the lower pond paddock so that we had an additional loop - maybe we could get 30 minutes worth of trail. I snowshoed over the route a few times, but as soon as I tried to walk on it with just my boots I went straight through the deep snow. Oh well, so much for that. I'll keep my snowshoes handy and maybe if I go over the path everyday eventually I'll create a walkable path. There is just enough crust to support my weight with snowshoes, but not without. I had hoped the snowshoes would have broken through more.

We watched “Secretariat” Saturday night. Great movie but it required lots of Kleenex... lots. Not to give anything away, but one for the funeral, then one for his birth (after all I had the birth of our foals foremost in my mind after writing that article), then 1/2 of one for the first race, the rest of it for the next. Then some were needed for the Triple Crown races... I can't watch a horse race, either live or a movie, without crying! I almost sob with emotion – how lame is that!

At the end of the last race of the Triple Crown (Belmont Stakes) the camera cut to a view of the last corner, as Secretariat rounded the curve, with the sound of pounding hooves in the background, the music switched over to the hymn "Oh Happy Days" - it was perfect. It was emotional. He was amazing. No horse has beat his record in all the years since (1974).

Here is a YouTube clip of the original Belmont Stakes race. Amazing. The clip from the movie for the same race can be seen here: http://youtu.be/pNeajtcNwJ0

Okay, now for my beef (not the steak kind). I like to cook and to make things with different flavours. I spend a fair amount of time following recipes and carefully measuring herbs and spices to get Moroccan, Indian, Italian and other dishes. I serve out our dishes and what is the first thing that Carm does? He puts a thick layer of pepper over everything, obliterating my efforts. I've tasted the results and all I can taste is pepper. Why do I bother with getting the flavours right? Am I the only one with this bug or are others irritated by the pepper grinder?

Sometimes I start a post with nothing much to say, but then, somehow, as if I liked the sound of my own voice, I've gone on and on. Hopefully you know when to hit the delete key!

Happy Tails Trails

Cats?

I got a call from an old friend Pat Wolfe this morning. He currently has Britt, the horse that we donated to TROtt last fall. His wife Jane is now editor of the Fjord Herald, the magazine of the Norwegian Fjord Horse Association and needed an extra article for the next issue. I'm going to write up a few pages about starting baby horses off on the right foot. I'm looking forward to it as that was one of my favourite things about breeding horses. I always loved working with the little ones. I'll have to get busy cause she needs the article in less than two weeks.

It was so nice to hear from them both. Pat was a mentor for me when I was into horses and he gives the best hugs. I'm reminded of the time I almost knocked his socks off by getting one of the horses to load into the trailer.

It started one afternoon at his place. Viktoria (one of my mares) had been at Pat's to get bred and now Pat was kind enough to trailer her home for me. Well. It was a disaster. She would not load. He had trouble getting her to load when he picked her up and it seems she hadn't changed. We tried numerous methods, but she just wouldn't step on. Finally out of desperation Pat got a winch and basically dragged her on. It was awful and I swore that this would never happen again.

Once we were home I borrowed a trailer from a nearby friend (thanks Laurie) and stuck it in the pasture. I got out some of my books on clicker training and Parelli and came up with a plan. It had to be doable by me - a novice - simple and most importantly, safe for both of us. Training day one, with Viktoria in hand on a nice long lead rope, and a bucket of carrot treats, I approached the trailer. Just as Viktoria put the brakes on I had her walk/trot in little circles. We stopped to rest when her head was facing the trailer. We moved a few feet closer... circle... repeat... until her head was in the trailer - jackpot - tons of little carrot bits and a long rest. Move away from the trailer and repeat. It wasn't long before she was aiming to get closer to that trailer. She WANTED to get near that trailer. Next step - one foot on. Ask for one foot - reward with carrot - retreat. Approach, ask for two feet - treat - retreat. Then boom - she was onto the trailer all on her own. Victory! And in under an hour! I had gone out there with the plan of taking several days, thinking that the steps would have to be that baby. But she caught on fast. Over the next couple of days we practiced some more, always with treats and resting while in the trailer.

A week later the vet confirmed that Viktoria hadn't conceived so it was back to Pat's. He got his trailer into the laneway and opened up the doors, prepared for more drama. I went and got Viktoria, walked up to that trailer, let her have a good sniff then sent her in. I swear Pat's jaw dropped! It was a pretty proud moment for me. She never gave a moment's problem with loading after that, even when I got my own trailer which was a jump up (yes, jump, not step).

It was fun reliving those moments! Having horses was rewarding in so many ways. Not to mention the friendships that were created.

 

 

 

Back to the present - I walked into the house this afternoon to the sound of loud cat yowls - what the heck! How could a cat have gotten into the house? Then I realized... the sound was coming from Grace's cage and unless a cat had not only gotten into the house but also into her cage it had to be Grace! We haven't had a cat in the house for a few years. The last time was when a stray showed up and we housed it until a proper place was found. In all this time I can't recall hearing Grace yowl but something must have reminded her about it - I wonder what triggered it? After a good laugh I gave Grace a little scratch on her head for being such a clever bird.

Nothing is improbable until it moves into past tense.
George Ade

Venn

I was poking through some digital photos this afternoon and realized that it was 10 years ago this month that our second foal found his new owner. Where do the years go?

Venn (Norwegian for Friend) was born on Saturday, June 30th, 2001 at about 1:30 am.

At at 12:30am Saturday morning when I got up to check on Viktoria she was pacing and pacing. She was also very sweaty, so I sat down in the paddock to watch and wait. Finally at about 1:10 she lay down beside me and her water broke. He was basically born right into my lap. That is something that will never get old or tired. The miracle of birth is always that – a miracle. It is also special to have such a good relationship with the mare that she includes you in her moment. Many mares will delay the birth until no people are around. They just aren’t that trusting. Not so with Viktoria though – we were present for all three of her baby’s births. She even let my friend Deirdre participate in one of her births – but that story is for another day.

Viktoria was a great mother, good with her son, and generously let people visit with him. Venn was a joy to handle and train. He had a very quiet, cooperative demeanour which made training easy. Even as a baby he could do many of the “big horse” skills including picking up his feet, giving to pressure, leading, standing tied, turns on the forehand and haunches, plastic bags, ropes around his body and legs, Mom's saddle and bridle. This foal was Mr. Laidback - nothing phased him.

here he is with (left to right) Valena, Britt, Viktoria and himself

In November of 2001 we got a phone call from a woman who was interested in purchasing him. Her brother had seen Venn's sire, Felix, at the Weedsport Fjord horse show. He was impressed and passed the information on to Lana. When she found out that we had a foal by him she contacted us and made the trip from Upper New York state - only about 2 hours from here - an easy drive to come and have a gander. Well, Venn and Lana immediately hit it off - it was obvious from the get-go that they would be good friends. Lana thought so too. A sale was made (or should I say that adoption arrangement were made). Venn spent the winter with us and then early spring Carm and I trailered him down to her place near Watertown. It was good to see him go to an excited and happy new owner.

Sadly we got an email this past summer that Lana had passed away. Luckily for Venn, Lana's young neighbour took him over so he still has a loving home. I'm so grateful that she took the time to let us know.

Happy Tails Trails

When Horses Played in the Sand

The other day I was walking around the property and was struck by the differences since we no longer have horses. It has been 3 1/2 years since the last horse left the property and the flora has wasted no time in taking over.
Back in the horse days the entire property looked a lot different. There were picturesque pasture ornaments dotting the fields, and these ornaments happened to eat grass and other vegetation… lots of it. Our place was like a putting green with the grasses cropped so close. They acted like riding mowers too – keeping the lawns nice and short.
Now that they are no longer here to keep nature in check the place has become somewhat overgrown and wild. There is way too much property to keep it cropped by hand so we have learned to live with the jungle.
The sand ring used to be a place to play with ponies. They were an impressive bunch once they started galloping around the ring. I felt like a circus ringmaster orchestrating all this beautiful motion.

Sometimes though it was a good place to just hang out and relax in the soft, warm sand.

And it was a wonderful place to give baby their first lessons. These are some of my most cherished times ever. The moms would follow along patiently keeping a careful eye out for their babies, trusting that I wouldn’t harm them.

Sometimes the sand ring would be home for a mother and her baby until baby was big enough to fit in with the herd.

Now it is overgrown with grasses and wild flowers (okay weeds). The only thing playing in it is the occasional ground hog.

Next on the tour – the aisle to the pastures – see post “When Horses Raced the Aisle”.  Then see “When Horses Played in the Fields” for the rest of the story.

When Horses Played in the Fields

The property was divided into a few different fields and pastures.
The hayfield grew a nice crop of hay in the early summer (which it still does) and then it would be home to new mothers and their babies and sometimes horses and riders.
The hayfield was a good place for riding.

Britt and Birgitta lived in the hayfield for a week before they integrated with the herd. Birgitta loved to stretch her legs in this wide open space. A road borders two sides of the pasture. It wasn’t unusual to see cars parked so they could watch the antics.

Now the hay field is the play space of dogs.

When Horses Raced the Aisle

We designed the fencing so that there was access to multiple pastures from the barnyard. The summer pasture was accessed down a long isle. The ponies would gallop down the isle to the barn when I’d call them in for their supper. I loved the sight of them flying in, the dust flying and the sound of pounding hooves filling the air. They were so beautiful.

On the way back out to their pasture they’d graze along the sides of the aisle.

Now the isle is overgrown with grasses and wild flowers. You’d be hard pressed to even walk down it. Nature never leaves a void (except the one in my heart left by the horses when then moved to their new homes).

Hey Hay Hey Hay

Tedding and then baling day today. Tedding is when they fluff the hay up into rows that the baler can then gather into squares. The fluffiness allows the grasses that were laying on the ground to dry as well. We have perfect drying weather, although it was starting to cloud over around 1pm. No rain though so the hay should be good.

Haying time was always laden with worry when we had horses . The sky would be checked often for signs of rain. We needed 3 good dry days to get the hay in safely – a bit of rain would make it dusty, a lot of rain and you risked mould and degradation of nutrition. Hay time is when I first started praying to the earth gods – I remember one time in particular that that the hay was cut and still lying in the field. We needed one more day for it to dry. There were thunder clouds to the north of us and thunder clouds to the south – I stood in the middle of the field and asked Mother Nature to spare us – she did – she left a strip just a few miles wide dry. We weren’t always so lucky.

The day the hay was baled was sure to be the hottest, most humid day of the summer. The first several years we had small bales, each of which had to be stacked by hand. First bales would be tossed to the ground from the wagon, then they’d have to be carried to the barn and then stacked. Carm and I did it ourselves a few times, but it was a pretty big job for two office workers. For a few years we hired some boys from the local group home, and then we had a friend and my sister help. Finally we went to large – 650lb square bales that would be stacked with a tractor. That left us with some heavy  work in the winter but in much more manageable chunks.

Today’s word of the day is ritzy (RIT-see adjective 1: being, characteristic of, or befitting a snob : snobbish ; 2: impressively or ostentatiously fancy or stylish : fashionable, posh). Carm’s niece Jennifer is getting married in a few weeks. Since Italian weddings are often quite ritzy I have decided to wear my coral sequin dress. I can finally fit into it again! I thought that would never happen :-) Anyway, it is an over-the-top shiny, sequiney dress that is this beautiful orange pink colour. Swish! But hopefully not too eye catching – I’m hoping that Jennifer’s friends will be  dressed to the 9’s!

Summertime Hay

This morning our neighbouring dairy farmer cut our hay field – I love the smell of freshly cut hay as it starts to dry in the summer sun. The only thing that makes it better is the sweet smell of horse manure mixed with it (honestly – that is the smell of summer to me). Today it was hot and sunny, the birds were flying around gathering food for their young, the dogs were hunting frogs by the pond, we were lazing in the pool, the smell of cut grass was in the air – truly summertime – or even possibly heaven.

 

I love the long, languid feeling of this version with Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong – it really evokes the feeling of a hot summer day.

It is time to get back to the Merriam Webster's word of the day. Unfortunately today’s word is one that was hard to incorporate into my blog post so I won’t – I’ll just add the word.

Temporize (TEM-puh-ryze verb 1: to act to suit the time or occasion : yield to current or dominant opinion ; 2: to draw out discussions or negotiations so as to gain time).

Blogger has been screwed up for quite a while – I haven’t been able to leave comments on anybody’s pages. I don’t know what is wrong (others have been having the same problem) but it may be IE? I don’t have plans to move to a new browser anytime soon, but maybe I’ll have to rethink this.

I have been using Windows Live Writer to compose my posts which allows me to do so off-line. I really like this software.

This morning I caught sight of the kingfisher diving into the pond after some fish. They are such an unlikely looking bird with that huge head. I do love watching him though. The one bird we haven’t seen this year at the pond is the Great Blue Heron. The grass and weeds have grown up so thick between the house and the pond that it is difficult to see it. The horses used to do a fabulous job of keeping everything trimmed. The original riding mower!

I found a new website called Brainy Quote. It has a quote of the day that I have been reading lately. I love these thought provoking quotes as they cause me to think and ponder if only for a moment.

What we see depends mainly on what we look for.
John Lubbock

Connect the Kinect

Last night it got down to -28C - burr burr burr. That's one night that I didn't miss going out to feed the horses. Although there is something beautiful about the rawness of nature and the crisp, clearness of the sky on a cold night. The sky would be ablaze with stars, almost as if they were magnified by the coldness of the air. The sound of our boots on the snow, the horses munching and the fluffy warmness of their coats enhanced the experience of the brutal night. The horses never seemed to mind the cold, they didn't seem to mind the icicles hanging from their noses - as long as there was no wind. Of course they loved the extra hay to help them stay warm - the fjords lived to eat! And since they are a nordic breed they grew hair coats to match the season. I do miss them.

Today's word of the day is telegenic (tel-uh-JEN-ik adjective : well-suited to the medium of television; especially : having an appearance and manner that are markedly attractive to television viewers). I've only known one TV personality - Stephanie Beaumont. She is a good friend of my sister's from university. Stephanie hosted a segment on the A channel in Ottawa and roomed with my parents while she was here. Now she's back out east and is a co-host of Breakfast Television on A-Atlantic and also hosts http://seaandbescene.com/ , a website that promotes the Atlantic provinces. She is just a wee thing but her bubbly, lovely personality fills a room. She is most certainly telegenic.

This afternoon a friend that I haven't seen for ages was over for a tea. It was nice to catch up with her and find out what's going on with their family. Their oldest girl just turned 18 - it seems like just yesterday that Margot was pregnant with her. How time flies!

Then the rest of the afternoon was spent setting up the new pvr and yes, finally, the kinect. We spent a little while playing some adventure games that came with it, surprisingly getting a bit hot and sweaty in the process. That's the whole idea though isn't it. I think we will have fun with this!