tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52193393061386292722024-03-05T00:12:25.012-05:00Four Legged Children... and life's other detailsETRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780907307411261478noreply@blogger.comBlogger89125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5219339306138629272.post-1883911116763607782018-01-02T14:38:00.002-05:002018-01-02T14:38:39.822-05:00Winter Farm WoesI should be un-decorating my Christmas tree and taking down the decor that my toddler hasn't already plucked from it's home and moved to somewhere else of her choosing, but I'm not. Instead, I'm writing this post because for the third time in as many days, I have seen desperate and semi alarming Facebook posts from people that are struggling to care for their animals in this cold snap. <div>
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Let me be the first to tell you, I hate winter. I hate it because my body doesn't function well in cold at all and I hate feeling so unpleasant outside. However, for a number of years, I have had a job that requires me to be outside every single day, regardless of the weather conditions. Horses and other animals need care every single day and they aren't particularly concerned with my cold stiff fingers. This is where the PLANNING comes in. I have learned and developed a variety of techniques to avoid being outside in the cold while still efficiently caring for the animals. I have worked on farms with minuscule budgets, and on farms where money is no object, but the thing they all had in common, was that we thoroughly planned for inclement weather and any variety of impetus that may present themselves during chore time. </div>
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Here are a few pointers I've picked up along the way:</div>
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Water. The real villain of winter is the freezing of our most valuable asset. Access to clean water is of utmost importance for all animals. No matter what your builder/plumber/guru tells you, just assume that all your faucets and spigots will freeze. Assume the worst and plan for it. If you have a heated tack room, unhook all your buckets, fill them up, and put them in the heated tack room, then find an empty trough and fill in up in there too, that way you have accessible water when all the faucets freeze. If your barn is close to your house, fill your bathtubs up the night before a hard freeze so that you can haul water to the barn without filling buckets one by one from the sink. Then fill up every available vessel in your home, jugs, pitchers, buckets, (pro tip- empty kitty litter jugs hold 2.5 gallons of water) and stash them somewhere that is consistently warm. Lots of animals, especially horses, will dehydrate themselves to avoid drinking frigid water, and poultry uses water intake to keep warm, so giving them a little "house warm" water every day prevents a totally unwanted vet call later!</div>
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Troughs. The most important, and often most annoying part of cold weather animal care, are frozen water troughs. Not everyone can afford heated auto-waterers in every field, (but by God if you can, GET THEM), and many fields are too remote to even use plug in trough heaters, so good old-fashioned ingenuity goes a long way here in Virginia winters. As therapeutic as breaking up ice with a sledge hammer can be, after about day two, it get's really old. Especially when there are several troughs to do. So, throw away the dumb salt water filled water bottles (they don't work) and get yourself a few rolls of bubble wrap and duct tape. Wrap up those troughs and buckets in bubble wrap and duct tape until your heart is content. While you are at it, wrap the stem of your outdoor water spigots as well. The time and investment it takes to do all of this FAR outweighs hauling water one bucket at a time from your own kitchen. </div>
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Then, collect some big rocks bricks, or cinder blocks and clean them off. Bonus points if you use your noggin and realize that here in VA, we have an abundant supply of soapstone, which just so happens to hold heat better than anything out there. Take your stones inside and place them around the edges of your fire in the fireplace, or on top of a woodstove. If you don't have either of those, put them in your grill or even oven and get them hot. Then, carefully remove them from their heat source, put them in a metal bucket or wheelbarrow, haul them out to your troughs, and plop one in at night check, between this and the insulation, your water will take a long time to freeze, even in the low teens to single digits. </div>
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Your monetary investment is just the cost of the bubble wrap and tape, and if you order as much stuff online as most of us who live out in the country do, your bubble wrap supply may well already be immense. </div>
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Hoses. It doesn't matter how many times you try to empty them, they always freeze. If you have a heated spot in the barn, haul them all in there. If not, throw them in the bathtub or laundry sink in your house. I've even kept them in the trunk of my car in trash bags with extra horse blankets on top of them. Not having a working hose to use your frost-free spigots with is the most annoying thing ever. If you have to sleep in your bed next to the hose to keep it warm, do it. </div>
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Forage. You know what NEVER works when it's 9 degrees out and all the horses are out of hay? The tractor. If you depend on your tractor to move round bales to your animals, for the love of God, get it serviced and replace the battery at the end of summer. Check your trickle chargers and the fancy magnet things that keep engines warm etc. If they don't work when it's warm, they surely won't work when it's freezing out. After doing all of that, still assume it won't work and all of your pretty round bales will be safely stuck in the hay barn, while the horses start playing the Hunger Games and have blanket shredding contests while you curse John Deere. So, buy as many square bales as you can afford. Also, buy them in the summer, when the hay is actually growing, and you can easily have them delivered. Guess when hay is the most expensive and hard to find? February. Any hay guy worth his salt will already have sold last years cuttings or have it on hold for his best customers. BE his best customer. Pay him in cash, instantly, bake him things, send his wife flowers... Hay is the ONE most reliable thing that keeps animals warm and fed. You can feed your horse 32 pounds a day of triple platinum legendary equine performance ulti-multi supercharged whatever, but good hay will keep them warm and healthy with far more efficiency. It's super not fun to drag individual bales of hay to your horses through the snow, but it's easier when you put the bales on a cheap plastic sled, and it's still easier and less expensive than treating them for ulcers or paying for colic surgery. </div>
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Clothing. We've all heard the crazy ladies on the internet say, "my 32 year old OTTB lives out 24/7 in Montana and it's -17 here and I don't blanket him because the blanket pushes their hair down and then they get cold!" After I swallow my feelings of murderous rage and mumble things about having to pass a basic intelligence test to own a horse, I realize that the best I can do, is make sure MY animals are comfortable. Animals, like humans, all "run" differently. I have a tiny little friend that was raised in Vermont and she gets super grumpy and sweaty when it's like 68 degrees out. I am tall and have a significant protective layer of insulating body fat, and my legs stop working and I just want to go to sleep and die once it gets down to 40. Seventy-four is my ideal outdoor temperature. Needless to say, many horses are different as well. My thoroughbred will stand at the gate with his blanket in his mouth, shivering and looking longingly at those of us with opposable thumbs, while my Standardbred gives me side eye when I come at him with a rain sheet. If your animals are not accustomed to your current weather patterns, watch them even more closely. Dogs, cats, pigs, and horses seems to be the most sensitive to weather changes, especially in combination with humidity changes. Chickens are surprisingly hardy in the cold as long as they are mature and not moulting. Cows and other ruminants seem to have the whole cold thing figured out the best. Old blankets, towels, and even clothes can easily be found at thrift shops and used for bedding for small animals and piggies, while properly fitting and waterproof blankets for horses are a worthwhile investment. </div>
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Planning for the worst when it comes to winter weather pays for itself in a cold snap like this. Instead of spending DAYS hauling individual buckets out to the chopped up icy hell that is now your water troughs, you could be warming your rocks by the woodstove for tonight's troughs, while browsing real estate listing for farms in Florida and slathering on the chapstick between sips of bourbon and frantically checking all 11 weather apps on your phone like the rest of us weirdo farm people that do this lifestyle voluntarily. </div>
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As one particularly demented farm guy once told me, "There is no bad weather, only bad clothing". Whatever dude. </div>
ETRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780907307411261478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5219339306138629272.post-35830953740958068062017-08-13T22:37:00.001-04:002017-08-13T22:37:21.306-04:00When EUTHANASIA IS NOT AN OPTION!<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">She started off like many of the posts I see every day in
Facebook groups. “Why do I read these?” I said to myself. I read them because I
love animals and I like to help them. Sometimes this is a gift, and sometimes
it seems like a punishment. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The photo was of a little chihuahua. Her little grey muzzle indicated
her age. Her right eye was blue and cloudy, likely from cataracts. Her left eye
was completely swollen shut and bulging with inflammation. The streams of tears
were visible in the photo. I was already upset. I started to read…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">She needs $2000 and fast for vet care for this dog and some
other ones. She can’t qualify for care credit. She opened a new credit card but
the limit is $300 and it’s already maxed out. She has a GoFundMe but she can’t
post it here. What should she do? How can she get a loan with low interest? Her
vet retired and no new vet will do a payment plan. These are rescue dogs and
she’s doing her best. No rude comments and no judging! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My heart sunk and I felt the warm spread of anger in my
neck. Either she’s trying to scam people for money or she is legitimately in
over her head with all these dogs (there are SEVEN in her profile pic) and they
are suffering without the proper care. I looked at the picture again and
remembered what it felt like to have a simple corneal abrasion. The pain, the
tearing, the light sensitivity. I commented, “What is the diagnosis on your chihuahua’s
eyes?”, wondering why she knew she needed $2000. A minute later a response, “I
don’t know that’s why I need a vet appointment. She has diabetes, cushings, and
chronic pancreatitis. I have some ointment but it’s something else- poor old
girl.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I went from trying to think of a way to help this dog, to
just plain sadness. This woman could win the powerball drawing and spend every
cent of it on this dog and the dog would still be in pain, still ill, unwell,
miserable as her little body just slowly gives out. Her eyes most likely hurt
constantly from the pressure of glaucoma, cataracts and some kind of current infection/uveitis.
Her body doesn’t metabolize food well and she battles nausea and recurrent diarrhea
from pancreatitis. She shivers and feels tired and can’t regulate her body temperature
well. She has to get injections every day. What kind of life is that for a
little dog that doesn’t understand why she hurts? Why her sight is fading? Why
she is tired, hungry, cold or in pain?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Then I said the stupidest thing you can say on the internet
to strangers. I said, “I know you are heartbroken about your sweet girl, but
maybe with all that’s going on with her and the amount of care and expensive
treatments she requires, and the lack of funds, it would be kindest to
euthanize her. Please don’t let her suffer.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“That is the rudest thing you could ever say!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Are you serious?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“She just needs some eye ointment and she will be fine! Don’t
KILL her for no reason!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">…it goes on…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The owner replies,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“She has a great quality of life except for the eye thing! I
would never let an animal suffer. EUTHANASIA IS NOT AN OPTION”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Ok, I get it. This is where we are and who we are dealing
with. It’s too late. I’ve done some judging based on her replies to me and
others and she’s the “save them no matter what” type. To some, this seems
valiant, honorable, the right thing to do. Life trumps all else. To me, it’s basically abusive.
Euthanasia should ALWAYS be an option. Many will not agree with my sentiments
or my opinions, because everyone has different life experiences. That’s ok.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Loving animals is my
first memory. My entire childhood I wanted to be Snow White and have wild
creatures come to me from the woods. I feel alone in a room full of people,
never, in a room full of animals. I live and work with them every day, personally and professionally. My belief is that when and if we choose to
have pets, or even livestock for that matter, we take on the
burden/responsibility of deciding when and how they will die. Unless they fade
gently away in their sleep, and most do not, we see them through their entire
lifespan. We are their stewards. We feed them and love them and pet them and
teach them and give them shelter, and they give us innumerable gifts in return.
Gifts that mold our souls and change our hearts in ways that we can never repay
them for. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> The last, final, and best gift
we can give them, is a swift, peaceful, and dignified death if the need arises.
Unfortunately for us, it usually does. It’s the hardest decision ever and it never
gets any easier, but it’s entirely our responsibility to make the decision
based on the best interests of the animal- NOT based on our feelings of loss,
or unrealized selfishness, or plain old sadness and loneliness. I vehemently
disagree with the ones that say, “they will tell you when it’s time”. Bullshit.
Animals are instinctively programmed to survive, not look or act weak, to
remain stoic for as long as possible. Let me assure you that we are too dumb to
read their tiny signals, the subtle changes in their routine and body language,
before they are often completely chronically miserable. I am as guilty as
anyone of letting a dog go on too long because she was still “eating and
wagging her tail”. I cringe at the thought of the pain she bore because I was
unable, and perhaps unwilling, to come to terms with her dying. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Regardless of the amount of money she gets or the number of
specialists she sees, that dog isn’t going to improve to a quality of life that
she deserves. She deserves to be happy, pain free, and unencumbered by constant
digestive issues and volatile blood glucose levels. She has THREE chronic and
basically terminal illnesses at her advanced age- even discounting the eye
issues. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">An old guy who worked years on a racetrack once told me, “honey,
dead don’t hurt”, and as callous as I thought he was being at the moment, it
was just the opposite. They shouldn’t hurt, not a minute longer than they have
to. Animals don’t make plans for the next day, so much of the beauty and
attraction we have to them is that they live purely in the moment and they love
in the moment too. It’s the curse of the human race to know that we are going
to die and spend our lives fearing death. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">That little dog just knows that she hurts, all over, and
that she can’t see well. She definitely deserves the apparent love of her
owner/rescuer. I just wish that lady knew that the best way to show that love,
is to let her go. If you ever catch yourself saying, “Euthanasia is not an
option”, it’s time to reevaluate your intentions. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
ETRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780907307411261478noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5219339306138629272.post-36015593827849642252015-10-23T23:19:00.003-04:002015-10-23T23:23:08.156-04:00The Somerset Horses Part II<br />
From my vantage point at the gate I could figure out what the order of operations was. The deputies were out on an ATV with buckets of grain trying to lure the horses closer to the barnyard. The night before, round bales had been unrolled out in the fields to get everyone some hay. Unfortunately, starving horses don't want to leave their new food source, but the lure of grain was working for some.<br />
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I wondered if some of them had ever had grain in their lives. </div>
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We let another group of horses through the gate and everyone was dispatched with halters to catch them and do some sorting. Yellow tags in the mane were pretty critical, green tags were in a bit better condition, black tags were the ones she wanted to keep. </div>
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I remembered what my Vet said. That a little over a year ago, all of these horses had been in fine shape, well fed and cared for. It actually WAS a rescue. I glanced at the fence to find her face, Anne is her name. She looked anxiety filled as she spoke to a man oddly dressed in khakis and a sport coat. His loafers surely soiled by the cow manure mud we were all standing in. </div>
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I understood her desire to start a rescue, her desire to save them all. Many horse lovers will express a desire to rescue horses from auctions and slaughter trucks and retire old ones to green pastures and give unsound ones a place to softly land. But NO ONE can adequately care for 100+ horses. I work on a farm with 34 horses. We have FIVE full time people just for the 35 on our farm and still sometimes need part time help. The difference in Anne, and the average horse person, is the ability to reason between adequate care, and a hoarding situation. Somewhere, at some point, her good intentions turned off. She made the wrong decisions over and over. Her obsession with aquiring animals outweighed her ability to reason that she couldn't care for them. She fired her staff or they quit when their paychecks bounced. She had personal issues. Some perfect storm of events blackened her soul and she became able to watch them wither away, with no way to cry for help. Our system failed them. Our community failed them. We all failed them. </div>
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Suddenly a black and white pony with pretty extreme kyphosis appeared over the hill and ambled up to the gate. Someone caught him and I was asked to help Maya load some mini donkeys into a trailer. We went in to a barn with temporary stalls inside. You could feel death. You could smell it. I shivered. </div>
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After loading the mini donkeys I went back to help catch more horses. I saw the pony again being walked out of the gate towards a trailer. I tried not to be disappointed. I had no idea why I wanted him, but I did. </div>
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Moments later someone walked him back in. An man was holding him over in the corner while the draft horse rescue people were having a hell of a time trying to catch about an 18 hand not halter broke youngster that clearly wanted no part in being caught. There was a lasso around his neck and some questionable catching tactics going on. I didn't dare approach the pony for fear of being tripped or trampled by the cowgirl horse whisperer gone wrong holding the end of that rope, which was about as effective as me holding the end of a rope attached to the back of a moving car. </div>
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Later, I got to the pony and asked the man, "are you taking this pony?" He said no. I promptly grabbed his lead rope and gave him my empty one. I have no idea why. The pony walked quietly with me over to the corner where my friend quickly asked what I was doing with a one eyed tiny pony with a back deformity. "I love him" was my response. Always a pragmatist, she rolled her eyes at me. I wasn't personally taking a horse anyway, I was just grabbing some to send to my friends who had foster stalls available. I had to send the pony though. I wanted to know where he was. He leaned his little head on me and I scratched his forehead. He stood stock still. </div>
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The man with the sportcoat was approaching me, between enjoying watching him walk gingerly in his nice shoes through cow feces and thinking, "Oh shit, why is he coming over here?" I steeled myself for some sort of forced conversation. Did he know I posted some really graphic pics on NBC29 FB? I knew he was on her side. I didn't like him already. </div>
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He introduced himself to me with a gentle voice and shook my hand. He said, "do you want that pony?" Again, with absolutely no hesitation I said, "I love him and I will give him a forever home". He said, "Anne has been watching and she wants you to have him."</div>
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I thought to myself, "Well good because I'm taking him out of here anyway", but with my wits about me and remembering the delicacy of all this, I said, "tell her thank you". He left and returned a while later to talk about the minis and how he might want some of them. I didn't like him again, knowing that the minis had been loaded onto the trailer the night before, and she made them take them off. I decided it was probably his fault. </div>
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Horses were coming in left and right and I was waiting on my transport trailer to arrive to load the pony an another one. Then all of the sudden, it happened again. A frighteningly emaciated dark bay came over the hill. My friend Kate was out catching horses and I yelled to her, "Catch that dark bay and flip his lip up!" His silhouette was that of a skeleton, but it was a Thoroughbred skeleton. If theres a shape I know, its the shape of a TB. Kate caught him and just responded "yep" after flipping his lip. As she approached with him, he only looked worse. His hide covered bones were not cushioned by layers of fat, or even muscle. There was just nothing. His entire body was covered in dermatitis. Rain rot, a bacterial infection that is hard and time consuming to cure when this widespread. But his face was kind and his eye was soft and knowing. He joined me and the pony and I realized he looked just like the first OTTB I ever loved, a school horse called Danny Boy. A fitting name for such a guy as this. I whispered to him, "you are safe". My vet arrived back on site to look over the ones that I was sending to my friend Lili to foster. I knew if anyone could provide the care he needed, Lili could. I couldn't do it myself at the moment and so I sent him to one of the most conscientious and caring horsewomen I know. He would be safe with her. </div>
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My vet tried to gently but clearly tell me what I had feared about Danny Boy. He was aged and his body score was barely a 1, if even that. His body had eaten all the skeletal muscle.... He went on. I appreciated his realism but was already prepared to give this guy ALL the love and care he needed until his end, however soon that may have to be. If he was going to die, he was going to do it on one of the most beautiful farms in Albermarle and until then, his dignity would be preserved and he would be given the retirement he deserved from the very beginning. </div>
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The pony literally jumped onto that green stock trailer, and even though well over 17 hands, the OTTB lowered his head and stepped on like he did it every day. I prayed the OTTB would still be standing when we arrived. Not only was he standing, but he backed off with the most perfect of footwork, walked into his new stall, full of soft fresh shavings, two full water buckets, a flake of hay, looked around, stretched out and peed- just like any horse that loves a pile of fresh shavings does. I smiled, he knew he was home and set about steadily munching his hay. </div>
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Part 3 coming soon. </div>
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ETRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780907307411261478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5219339306138629272.post-85100224399568366592015-10-23T21:48:00.000-04:002015-10-23T21:50:53.413-04:00The Somerset HorsesIt's the fourth day with those invisible hands around my throat. The slow rise of the dull burn from the bottom of my neck to my jawline. The heat washes over my face and the tears well up in my eyes. I will my eyelids not to overflow, because I know that once I start, I won't be able to stop. I don't want the ragged breaths and heaving sobs that are carefully quelled just below my sternum. The voice in my head says, get back to work, do more, find out more. And so I do.<br />
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When I found out about the horror that existed just down the road from my quiet, peaceful farmhouse, I was sitting on the steps of side porch, watching the dogs in the yard as they sniffed, and pulling old blooms off of the mum next to me and the pumpkin. My phone dinged its familiar ding, and since we live so far out in the country and only get intermittent phone service, I knew I better take a look at whatever it was, while it was still working. It was a link in a FB message to a press release from our local Sheriffs office describing a possible seizure and search of a local horse farm. My brain flashed back to my coworker telling me of the local farm with more than 100 horses, the owner not paying her employees and firing people, the horses getting less care, the money she had, the local authorities not responding, the frustration of the former workers. It came in pieces my memory of this conversation, but it was MONTHS ago, surely something had been done, surely this wasn't the same farm, surely it wasn't this close to my home and I didn't know about it.<br />
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I picked up the phone and called my boss, the owner of a large local horse farm. Maybe she would know who this was and tell me it wasn't as bad as it sounded. My dog sat down next to me on the steps and the sun fell behind the trees. My boss didn't remember the conversation, she said to call my coworker. I called and texted and stared at my phone for a response. I grew frantic. I have learned the hard way to trust my gut, and my gut said this was real.<br />
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She called my back and my phone dropped the call. I called her back and there it was. The confirmation that it was the farm just down the road. A road I had never been down- so very close to me. Then came the pictures by text. The dead horses. The pelvic bones so sharply jutting out that I knew that there was no rehabbing a horse in that condition. Even still standing, that horse was already sentenced to death. And then there it was, the hitch in my breath, the heat rising to my face, and the gripped taughtness in my neck. On my screen was a blood spattered stall wall, underneath was a horse, with neck curled, eye bashed in. This animal had gone down and tried over and over to get up, bashing its head against the wall trying to get its front legs unfolded to right itself. This horse had died in agony. It was the first time I pushed down the tears. I knew I had to help. I knew there were up to 100 horses there. My skill set, though odd, would be useful to whomever was going to sieze these horses. I can catch almost anything, I can intelligently and accurately assess basic veterinary needs, I can administer first aid, I can manage people, I can get almost anything to get on a trailer, but most of all, I can spread the word.<br />
<br />
Though I hadn't formally volunteered for a rescue in VA, I messaged my friend that does and she put me in touch with Hope's Legacy Equine Rescue. I basically forced my presence at the next day's seizure on the director of the rescue. She didn't know me at all, I probably scared her with my zealous recruitment of foster homes. I knew I couldn't take one at my personal barn because I can't adequately care for four horses alone with a partially paralyzed wrist/hand plus formally quarantine another while maintaining a full time job. That reality kills me, but there's no point in rescuing an animal and taking it to another situation of less than perfect care. These horses would need an extraordinary amount of educated and conscientious attention from lifelong horsemen/women. This was not a job for those that haven't had rehab experience or those that were just hobby horsemen, or the one armed girl, (me). So I sent out the call. God Bless the power of social media. In minutes, I had foster homes for seven horses, hay donations, and the word was spreading. I prayed a quick prayer that I could be beneficial for these horses, and I tried to go to sleep.<br />
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I texted my boss at 6:35 am that I would be at the seizure farm today and not at work. I made oatmeal that I forgot about and left on the counter and did laundry and took a long shower where I tried to predict and prepare for what I might see. Surely the owner would not be present. Someone must have a plan for how this is going to go. Should I bring hay? I threw an old halter and lead rope in the car and put on an old pair of rain boots. I might have to throw them away after this if conditions are really bad. I put a change of clothes in my car and some baby wipes. I couldn't go to my own barn after without changing clothes. I couldn't risk my horse or the others if these guys were unvaccinated or ill. My phone was blowing up with texts and messages offering help with transport and warnings to be strong. I told the dogs that I would be home later and that this might be a hard day. My poodle jumped the baby gate and ran to me. She knew I needed one more moment of love.<br />
<br />
I rolled slowly up the gravel road past the pumpkin patch and turned down the driveway. I was greeted by a Deputy who asked for my name and phone number and I told him<br />
I was there to help load horses onto trailers. There were two trailers there already forming a line in the driveway. I got out of my car and the lady in front of me told me we had to stay there because another horse had collapsed and they didn't want anyone but the vets and Animal Control in the barnyard right now. She told me where she was from and what rescue she was doing transport for and about her own horses. I tried to listen, but her voice was just a hum in the background of my thoughts. A large truck rumbled up the driveway with a tall sided construction dumpster on the back. It took me a second to realize it's function. I watched it disappear into the barnyard and then I heard the tractor start up. One. Two. Three. Plops into the dumpster. I knew what the plops were. Dead horses.<br />
<br />
A lady I didn't recognize arrived and she knew the first lady I talked to. She looked at me as I stood there with a questioning look on her face and I introduced myself and told her my function. She said, "Have you put in an application to be a foster home?"<br />
Before I answered she said, "Because no horses are going to foster homes that aren't pre-approved." I explained for a moment that I wasn't a foster home and tried to comfort her distrust of me by telling her that I was there in place of one of her long time volunteers who had to work. Then I was interrupted by, "Are you Ellie?" Whew. A friendly face. It was Maya from Hope's Legacy Equine Rescue whom I had spoken to the night before. More familiar faces arrived from Equine Rescue League in Keswick. My vet and his assistant arrived and we all waited.<br />
<br />
I thought for a moment about my less than welcoming greeting from the first rescue director. I got it. I knew she'd seen the crazy people that show up at hoarding situations to increase their own hoard. I understood her distrust of a new face and that her stress level was perhaps in the stratosphere knowing that every single foster home she knew, every single stall she has and every single cent in her account, was about to be used. Although I didn't think it prudent for her to turn me away without even a few questions at a time like this, I knew I had found a place to deposit my desire to help and my web of connections that were just waiting on the word about what was needed, and that was with Hope's Legacy. I felt comfortable with Maya and compelled to help her with whatever I could.<br />
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The lady in brown with the badges and the bulky belt accessories arrived to speak to us. She looked as if she had seen more than she was comfortable with that morning. Behind her smile was sadness and her joking demeanor seemed to just barely cover what surely were those same invisible hands on her throat. She explained to us that the owner was willingly surrendering all but 35 animals but that the situation was precariously hinged on the woman's decision. At any point she could stop the whole thing. There would have to be a hearing in order for the animals to be formally siezed. That meant they would have to wait there in her (lack of) care. Some of these horses didnt have another few days.<br />
<br />
My anger at this woman, though palpable throughout my entire being, would have to be hidden. My disbelief that she would be allowed to keep 35 animals, or even one animal, would have to be put in the same place as my tears. She was there, and she wasn't in handcuffs or a straight jacket or locked into a cage with no food or water, or any of the other places I wanted her to be. She was leaning against the fence, totally free, to watch a community of rescues and volunteers come to clean up her mess. A mess that could've been prevented 1000 times by a ton of people if she had chosen, just once, to do the right thing for the horses in her care. But she didn't, and me being angry at her gave her power over me and the situation, so I focused my energy on the horses. Horses, thats where Im comfortable. Thats where I can make a difference.<br />
<br />
The first trailer rolled up to the barnyard and I watched as they loaded mostly donkeys. I could barely see the other horses from where I stood, but I could see a Deputy on his phone while struggling to open and close the gate to the barnyard from the pasture while preventing horses from escaping back into the pasture. Bingo. Non-horse people don't typically feel comfortable with large animals threatening to run over them, especially while trying to make phone calls. I walked quickly to the gate and scooted him right over.<br />
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Part 2 coming soon.ETRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780907307411261478noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5219339306138629272.post-52099017884573671222015-06-08T05:41:00.000-04:002015-06-08T05:49:14.258-04:00The Glittering NightThe chain clangs like a wind chime against the gates as I push them open, from where I stand I can hear the song on the radio in my car ending as the clock reads 11:57pm. I know they'll do the weather update at midnight. For now, it's clear and cool and dark. The gravel crunches under my feet as I head back to the car and look over the field as the glitter of the fireflies fills the sky. This is how I prefer the night, cool and quiet and dark, save for the glittering beauties.<br />
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I realize now that my chosen profession is odd. My college education and post-graduate studies seem wildly irrelevant most days, but none the less did satisfy my desire for a degree and some of my insatiable curiosity. The horses however, never get boring. No day is the same as the one before and there is never an end to learning here. While many families have a horse crazy kid that rides for a few years, maybe even gets a horse, and then slowly recedes from the horse life into something else, I just always fell deeper. Drowning myself in books about horses, horse care, horse breeds, horse supplies. Even after a hiatus from riding regularly in high school, I would hide in my room, away from the pressure of trying to fit in and doing all the things high school girls are meant to do, and re-read my books. I would sit on the floor in my walk in closet, safely behind two closed doors, and gingerly pick through the memory box of momentos from my first horse. I could still smell him. That scent, comforting and velvety, was my ocean, and it still is. </div>
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As I make my way up the drive to the barn, I can see the silhouettes of the horses in the darkness. Together in their little bundles, two standing with a hip dropped, leg cocked and resting, while watching over the one laying on the ground with her long neck curled and her chin in the dirt. They are intermittently lit with the glittering fireflies, so very bright against the dark skies in the country. The glittering night of city lights does not hold my interest, it's overwhelming and lonely all at once. Here, this is how I wind down. My work is done and my soul is soothed all at once.</div>
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I park my car as close as possible to the barn doors and grab my bags. Quietly sliding the big doors apart, I am greeted by a few low nickers and the tramping of hay and straw as they rouse to see who's here tonight. "Hey mamas", I say quietly as I make my way down the aisle towards the low light in the wash stalls to put down my bags. The mare end of the barn is mostly filled with the sound of rhythmic chewing. Those ladies like their hay, and as I glance into their stalls to make sure everyone is supplied for the night, a few of them approach to snuff me with their soft breath and get a neck scratch. The little one is flat out with his mouth open and his little short foal breaths huffing in his dream. His dam comes to say hello, carefully placing her feet in the straw around him so that she doesn't step on him, and I think, she doesn't want him to wake up just yet. She knows it won't be long until he's rooting at her udder, sometimes fiercely and loudly nursing, with no regard to being as careful with her body as she is with his. "You're a good mama", I whisper to her, and she rests her muzzle heavily on my arm and breaths into my face. Our affections and respect are mutual.</div>
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Down the aisle I hear a clang of teeth on a stall door and I know he knows I'm coming with more hay. He, as usual, would like me to get on with it and arrive spit spot. I open his feed door and there they are, those wet teeth; his lips peeled back in anticipation as he catches the flake of hay in the air on its way to the floor. He sticks his nose out of the door, presenting me with a mouthful of hay. My fingers graze over his nostrils and scratch a soft circle. He's really quite pleased with the attention, as I don't much trust putting my fingers near his mouth unless it's already full. The stallion end of the barn is quieter, two are down for the night, and only those shiny teeth, still holding a chunk of hay out of the small feed door, are visible in the aisle. </div>
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What is becoming my ritual begins. I stack the hay bales four across and two high and take an open bale to stack the flakes higher at one end. Over the top goes a soft clean medium weight horse blanket, my flashlight gets hooked onto the blanket rack, and the chair next to my hay stack holds my purse, sweatshirt, extra blankets, and snacks. I settle onto the hay pile lounge, IPad, coconut water and clipboard in hand. Kicking my moccasins off I cover my legs with another blanket as the air cools quickly through the night. One of the pregnant mares groans as she goes down for a bit, her belly creating the mountainous landscape I can see through the stall door. They all sleep for short stretches, waking up to eat and drink or switch sides and settle back into the straw. I love to hear them sleep. Their stalls are too dark for me to see anything but their outlines, their sighs and snorts and wiggles indicate their state of rest. The mare on the end is a dreamer, small curdled whinnies and kicks erupt from her stall and I wonder what fills her dreams. </div>
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The mare I'm here to watch for signs of labor is calm and quiet. Her milk test tells us she should foal any hour, and has been that way for four days. But these horses, they don't ascribe to our human habits of relentless planning and vigorous impatience. The mare decides when it's right- so I wait. Night after night I stay with them, traveling to the ends of the Internet and existing on coconut water and beef jerky and fresh peaches, with an occasional hunk of dark chocolate when I'm feeling sleepy. </div>
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It will be dark and quiet until 4:30, when the swallows come in from hunting bugs and bring the spoils to their nests. Their chatter signals the end of my glittery night and the impending separation of the mountains from the sky as the black goes to navy and then to royal blue. The pink sun will peek above the horizon at 5:30 sharp, and the volume of the world will increase by the minute. The<br />
stallions welcome their day with crescendo nickers and whinnies, and if they had mirrors, they would look approvingly into them and congratulate themselves on a night well spent. The mares, they wait for the barn doors to part again as the morning crew arrives to make their breakfasts. I will drive back out over the crunching gravel to sleep for a bit of the day and wait to hear if the mare has decided that daylight is her preferred hour of foaling. If not, I'll be here again- me and the horses and the glittering sky.</div>
ETRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780907307411261478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5219339306138629272.post-79406773750146936252015-05-19T16:36:00.000-04:002015-05-19T16:52:53.542-04:00<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>First and Lasts</b></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: x-small;">There are so many more, but these are the best ones.</span></b></div>
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<br />
The first of my four-legged children, you were my very own dog. Acquired accidentally on my lunch break on a hot June day in 2004, I should have NEVER walked out of the pizza place next door and into the pet store holding an adoption event from a local shelter. There you were, the “Georgia Black Dog”, cowering under the table, away from all the dogs vying for attention of prospective adopters. I sat on the floor and stroked your shoulder and heard a voice behind me say, “she doesn’t let anyone touch her, did you just touch her? She’s just here to get socialized and isn’t really up for adoption, she has been badly abused and is in no shape to be adopted yet”, and there it was-<br />
The Last of my willpower, the last of my ability to reason that as a poor college student that lived in a rented townhouse that didn’t allow dogs, that I shouldn’t bring the scared, abused, skinny brownish dog with welts on her hind end home. The last time that pet store probably ever had someone buy and assemble a crate in store, food and bowls and a bed, and then pay an employee $100 in cash to take care of her in the stockroom all day until I could retrieve her after work. You were mine, and I was yours, as soon as I touched you that day.<br />
<br />
The first time I ever had a dog that came with tons and tons of “baggage”. You were afraid of me, of food bowls that were shiny, of ceiling fans, and flashlights, and lightning, and beeping noises, and men with beards, and the opening of trash bags, and outside, and inside, and door frames, and going upstairs-<br />
The Last time I ever considered giving you up and taking you back to the shelter, convinced that you would never bond to me, was two weeks later, in the wooded trails, when the strange lady with the ancient German Shepherd stopped me and told me- out of the blue- that I needed to let you love me your way, that I was trying too hard, and that I just needed to be patient and quiet and tell you simply, every day, “I love you Doodle”, and that you would understand, that you were a special gift. No one has ever been more right. <br />
<br />
The first time I ever had a dog that wouldn’t come when she was called, but would just look at me, come near and stay near, but not let me catch her until she was darn ready to be caught-<br />
The Last time I ever took a dog to a public dog park before an impending thunderstorm, and was the last one to leave since you decided not to be caught and we sat in the pouring down rain, lightning and thunder crashing around us, six feet away from each other, until you decided to come over and sit.<br />
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The first time you saved my life was on the trip home from Athens to Columbus. You were such a good car rider, it was always your favorite. You sat still and quietly in the back with your nose out of the cracked window gleefully taking in all the smells. I only knew you were awake by the short, short, looonng, rhythm of your sniffing. But not that day, you were restless and softly whining. I was confused about what you wanted since you had already eaten dinner and gone potty before we got in the car and we’d been on the road less than an hour. We were behind a big red pick-up truck the whole way down the two lane road and your whining grew louder. I saw a gas station and pulled over to offer you water and see if you needed to go potty again. You pulled me around on your leash for, in my hurry, what seemed like forever, without so much as a pre-potty sniff. I was growing impatient. You jerked the leash to go TOWARDS a lady that was walking towards us, and I was so surprised as she reached out to touch you. Not only that you went towards her, but even more so at the scars all over her forearms. Like she had been dragged through briars, her arms, and her face implied scars of a much deeper sort. She asked me all about you and I told her about your past. She seemed to connect with you on a level that I couldn’t understand then. I didn’t know why this lady was holding up my trip, and why you were content to be patted by her. We got back in the car and went a few miles, only to be stopped by traffic on the same two-lane. At the bottom of the hill I could see multiple fire trucks. I sighed. A bad wreck. Something else to make my trip longer-<br />
The last thing I remember before I burst into tears and had to eventually pull over, was what I saw when we passed that wreck. A red pick-up truck and another car, smashed between two tractor trailers. The red-pick up truck was compressed front to back to the width of a double door frame. I was stuck for a moment as the firemen rushed to put a tarp up so that our lane couldn’t see the remains in the truck. But I saw them. And I recognized the pick-up truck, the one we had been behind before you made me stop for the weird petting with the stranger. We would have been right there in that horrible wreck. Every time I passed the cross on the side of the road for years after that, I said a prayer for peace for that man’s family, and thanked you and that lady for making us late to that scene.<br />
<br />
The first time you chased down the tennis ball that I threw for you, you ran and ran and ran with it, around me in circles, with no real intention of bringing it back. I laughed as you got all the other dogs in the dog park running too, now sleek and black and shiny, your confidence made me smile and your happiness was evident-<br />
The last time you chased a tennis ball, the poodle beat you to it. You weren’t fast anymore, and maybe not sleek, but black and shiny and happy you still were. She lost interest in the ball moments later and you retrieved it and took with you to your couch. You placed it between your front legs and every time she came near, you just bared your teeth silently. It was your ball anyway, and she needed to know it.<br />
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The second time you saved my life was at 2:17 am in the summer of 2005. I was fast asleep with you next to me on the floor. We were alone in the townhouse since our other roommate had gone home for the summer. Your big growl woke me up with a start. I didn’t have my glasses on or the lamp on yet to know what was happening and you were throwing your body at my bedroom door trying to get out- with the kind of bark I almost never heard you do. The deep snarly bark that meant you were dead serious. I opened the door to my room and you rocketed down the stairs. I was almost frozen with fear as I could now hear, and comprehend the banging at the back door that meant someone was trying to kick in the door. My cell phone was charging in my car outside, and we didn’t have a land line. It was just me and you. I could now hear you throwing yourself at the back door and barking like you were going to get through it first. I ran to the window and peeked down to see a dark figure on the porch run away into the woods. The banging had stopped, but the barking continued. I wouldn’t let you out because you would have chased him down and killed him I think. After a few minutes you stopped barking and I was brave enough to run to my car and get my phone. My neighbor was outside already asking if I was ok and she had already called the police. I had to lock you in my room when they arrived because you simply were not letting anyone in that house, even the policeman who bolted a 2x4 across the door for the night to secure it since the door frame was split. He said one more kick and the intruder would’ve been inside-<br />
The last thing I wanted to hear a few days later was that the guy they caught after he kicked another woman’s door in, was that he admitted to watching me and a few other girls for days before that. He knew I was home alone, and he knew I had a dog, but he didn’t think that you would protect me. He was wrong. I’ve never ever felt unsafe again because you were always there.<br />
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The first time my bathroom door creaked opened while I was taking a shower, I timidly peeked out to see if I was about to become a story out of Law and Order SVU, but thankfully it was you. There was no door you couldn’t open and I became accustomed to your presence during any and all activities, as you were not one to be left out. You settled down onto the bath mat and waited for me to finish showering. You didn’t move as I reached over you to brush my teeth, because the bath mat in front of the sink was much better than your array of beds just outside the bathroom. It was sometimes hard to put on mascara while leaning over a large dog to see the mirror, and you always huffed and left the bathroom annoyed when I would dare to turn on the blow-dryer. I knew you just wanted to be with me, and I appreciated it. I never minded you being there, ever-<br />
The last time I showered and you were there on the bath mat, was yesterday morning. I thought to myself for a moment about how it would feel to get out of the shower and not see you there because I knew you were declining. It happened today, a million days too soon, while we were waiting for the vet and you were resting a little more comfortably on your couch. I opened the shower door and the bath mat was empty. I sobbed into my towel and tried to hurry and get dressed to get back to you. Thank you for the hundreds of times you were there. I think I will probably look for you on the bath mat forever and ever.<br />
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The first time you woke me up with the thwap, thwap, thwap of your tail on the wall, it was because you needed to go outside and I had overslept a little. You soon trained me to get up at any and all hours of the day or night and attend to you with your metronome tail. The “weapon of mass destruction” as we sometimes called it, your tail was the reason I have a higher than normal coffee table and cheap wine glasses. You quickly taught me not to leave things in the path of that tail, the excited and expressive tail that greeted me every day and woke me up every morning, and had a way of shedding more hair than most dogs have on their entire body-<br />
The last time I heard the thwap, thwap, thwap of your tail was Monday morning early. You were having a hard time breathing and wanted me to come to you. You called me with your tail. For eleven years that tail has been the soundtrack to my life. I don’t know how I’ll ever get up again without the encouragement of that sound.<br />
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The first time I felt grown-up and moved into my very own apartment after college, you were finally my only roommate. It was a third floor apartment and we walked up and down those steps together for what seems like thousands of times. You waited for me patiently at the window to come home each day, and you made me feel safe and secure and happy. Just the two of us in our big girl apartment, looking out the window at the world that we were ready to take on-<br />
The last move you ever made with me was last May, we’ve lived in a townhouse, an apartment, and four houses together. Six times we’ve packed our life together, and I can’t even begin to know what to do without you in our home. I can’t even remember having a home where you weren’t there.<br />
<br />
The first time you met him, you liked him immediately. Little did he know that I would’ve never gone on a second date with him if you didn’t make it clear that he was “good”. A better judge of character I’ve never known. When he laid on the couch with you, you didn’t growl at him, and you hated sharing your couch with anyone but me. I loved him almost immediately, and you let me know that I was safe in loving him because you did too-<br />
The last time you saw him was this morning when he petted you and said your name as he left for work and told me to call him and let him know what the vet said. I don’t know if he knew that you were leaving us today for sure, but I know you loved him since your tail wagged as he patted you, and your tail hasn’t been wagging in two days. He’s digging you a resting place on his mom’s farm as I write this. He came home from work early and gently moved you from your couch into his car while I hid upstairs and cried and typed. He’s kind, and you always knew it. <br />
<br />
The first time I knew I loved you was on the way home from the pet store that day when you awkwardly rode home facing backwards in the front seat of my car. I knew we had work to do, but your eyes were so kind even though your body looked neglected. I didn’t know when or if you would love me, but I knew I already loved you. You were panting a bit and I saw you had an under bite, it was always my favorite thing when your lip would get stuck against your teeth and I would barely see the under bite. And when you would guard some toy and bare your teeth at other dogs and instead of lifting your lips to the side, you would part them in front and reveal the under bite. Or when you would greet me at the door or at the steps and wag your whole body and “smile” and there it was, the under bite that I love. From that first day until today, my love for you has consumed more of me than I knew could exist. You have been there for almost every first as I grew from a naive teenager into an actual adult, and so many lasts-<br />
I can’t believe that today was our last day. You were beautiful and kind and warm and soft and loving and protective and loyal and independent and patient even to the very end, and you taught me more about life than most human relationships have. I don’t even know who I am without you. I owe you so much more than I could ever give you, and I can only hope that today, when I held you in my arms and felt you take your last breath, that you know that I will love you until my very last breath.<br />
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Rest in Peace my sweet Doodlebug and thank you. </div>
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Run free with ample breath, and swim and roll and rest and play and love.</div>
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Spring 2002- May 19, 2015</div>
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<br />ETRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780907307411261478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5219339306138629272.post-52747285534097965382014-10-03T16:15:00.000-04:002014-10-03T16:15:54.565-04:00The Horse Shaped HoleDuring what seems like a lifetime ago, I was sitting in a stuffy room filled with other high schoolers clad in North Face fleeces in the mountains of what I think was somewhere in North Carolina. Outside, the air was sharp and chilly and fresh, and I remember wanting a breath of it. I was hot, but I didn't want to take off my fleece and draw attention to myself in that quiet room, or accidentally expose what I thought then, were totally hideous love handles that might pop out of my jeans. I laugh at that now, because I would pay for those love handles instead of these...<br />
<br />
Anyway, the reason I was sitting in that room is because I was on a Young Life retreat, and although I don't remember the speaker's name, what he said has stuck with me for 15 years. He was talking to us about our hearts, not in the pumps blood to the rest of our body sense, but in the representative of our soul sense- which is how I am referring to it here. I have always been spiritual and identify as a Christian. I was reared in a Christian family and we attended church most Sundays. However, religion and Christianity were never forced on me and one of the things I appreciate most about my parents is that they allowed and encouraged me to question my beliefs while growing up.<br />
<br />
I've always held a closely guarded and personal set of beliefs that some Christians may out right disagree with. I do not believe that if you have never heard the word of God, or about God, that you go to hell. I just don't think the God I know would hold that against you. I also believe that God comes to people in very individual ways and that although I identify as a Christian and my friend may identify as Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist etc., that we are all probably receiving our spirituality and religion in the way that our culture, upbringing, and heart is most available to receive it. In other words, I think that the Native Americans, and the Hindus and me and everyone else, are all probably communicating with the same omniscient being. That's the part of my beliefs that some Christians would get really uncomfortable with, and that's their right. I get really uncomfortable with forcing other belief systems on those that don't want to experience them using threats of eternal hell and burning in lakes of fire, but that's just me. If you look at the basic premise of any religion, they are ultimately eerily similar. Religion and spirituality is extremely personal and comes to each person differently and not one minute before or after their heart is ready for it. Christianity is right for me, but I totally feel uncomfortable and out of place in Pentecostal Christian churches. I feel judged for my quiet faith and my preference to pray when alone in nature, and I feel like everyone there is having a contest to see who can be the most Christian in front of the most people, so instead of it being about faith, it's about appearing faithful, and I don't get it. If waving your hands in the air and shouting Hallelujah in a room full of others while singing praise songs is your thing and makes you feel full of the Spirit, then go for it. It's just not for me. I find that I don't very often feel comfortable in rooms full of people though, I'd rather worship while riding through a field on a horse as that is where I feel the most connected to God and all of His creation<br />
<br />
So this takes us back to that stuffy room and what that man was saying. He described our hearts like a block of swiss cheese; full of holes. In order for our hearts to feel full/whole/fulfilled, we filled those holes with various things that were important to us and each hole had a shape. Unless you filled those individually shaped holes with the right shape, much like a puzzle, you were left there with a hole and an ill fitting piece and the yearning to find the right piece of the puzzle. He was talking specifically about the God shaped hole that nothing else could fill. This visual really stuck with me.<br />
<br />
At 31 years old, I'm far more secure about what my heart needs to be filled with to be whole than I was at that time. My God shaped hole is filled, my love shaped hole is filled, my family and friends shaped holes are filled for now, and the things I do that make me feel like me, those holes are filled as well. The only glaring, gaping hole in my heart, is shaped like a horse. My heart and soul ache for it to be filled. People who don't love horses or understand their role in my life may find that statement to seem selfish, bratty, or shallow, since having a horse is technically a "material possession" and an expensive one at that. Trust me, I wish I had a bicycle or elliptical machine shaped hole instead; for oh so many reasons, but I just don't.<br />
<br />
I do not remember a time when I wasn't obsessed with and fascinated by horses, ponies and generally anything with four legs. I don't understand people who don't love animals any more than I understand serial killers. Not to compare the two, but that is the level at which not loving animals seems foreign to me. I try REALLY hard not to judge people that say they don't like dogs or think horses are super scary. I don't mean to make assumptions about them based on that, but I do, because I feel like they can't possibly feel complete without knowing what I know about how a life filled with creatures can bring happiness, healing, comfort, joy, beauty, sadness, heartbreak, faith and all the emotions and lessons you need in life to become a decent human, and I don't understand how a life filled with other sports or possessions can possibly compare. But that's presumptuous of me, and I know that. I continue to work on it.<br />
<br />
Luckily, my parents figured this out about me at an early age. We always had dogs, a couple of cats, some hamsters, a guinea pig, a potbellied pig named Bocephus, numerous fish, parakeets, and some involvement with horses. I took riding lessons starting at about age 8, worked in barns and would've lived there if they'd let me. When I was 13, I got my very own first horse. It was a glorious day and I'll never forget it. I'm sure it was much like the first time you get high on cocaine, and you want that feeling forever and ever and ever. It wasn't the "getting" part though, it was the "having and loving" part. My horse shaped hole was filled, and at a time when I hated school because everyone seemed mean, suspicious and generally intolerant of the new girl that was totally wearing the wrong brand of jeans and was therefore worthless, I could go to the barn and my horse would happily trot to me from the field, and tolerate my hours long grooming sessions, and let me sleep on his back while he grazed, and teach me that down banks in XC were in fact not scary at all, and that the more I gave of myself to take care of this fantastic creature, the more love and life lessons I got in return as we grew together. He was a young greenie when I got him, and so every success was our success and every failure was mine to learn from and fix. He taught me that there are almost never problems that can't be solved with hard work and good intentions. My horse just let me be me, with no judgement, and he taught me that letting other people and animals be themselves and feel comfortable in who they are and how they learn, is perhaps the greatest gift you can ever give another creature.<br />
<br />
After my first horse was injured in a trailer accident, I went a very long time without a horse of my own or doing much riding at all. In my grief and sadness and ignorance that those emotions were what I was experiencing, I tried to fill the horse shaped hole with lots of teenager-y things that seemed to make everyone else happy. Cheerleading (which I was terrible at), getting attention from boys, making good grades, having parties at my house to try to make other people happy, excelling at art; all of those things did make me happy temporarily and art probably helped me the most, but when I look back at those years without involvement with horses, I think I was probably depressed for most of them.<br />
<br />
In college I started riding again, and something was missing. I rode on the equestrian team for a year, I rode other people's horses, I took lessons, I volunteered for a Hippotherapy program for kids with special needs. It was all wonderful and taught me tremendous things about horse care and management and the power of a horse for a human spirit, but at the end of the day, those horses didn't belong to me, and they weren't mine to love, nurture, care for, and develop a partnership with on a daily basis- but I did those things anyway and it healed me a lot.<br />
<br />
After college I got an OTTB, it was the first time I felt ready to really fill the horse shaped hole, and honestly I think that without her and all that she taught me, I would never have had the courage to get out of a bad marriage, chase my dreams and move from GA to VA and start a whole new chapter in my life. If there's one thing an independent mare will teach you, it's the value of picking your battles and that self preservation and selfishness are two very different things. I ultimately lost her due to a freak slab fracture in her knee, and although I still get teary when I see a photo of her, I know that we were in eachother's lives for very specific reasons and that she is probably much more at peace now, than she ever felt she could be here trying to live up to the expectations of humans.<br />
<br />
I've spent the last few years fully immersed in Eventing as a rider and professional groom- from watching and riding Beginner Novice and young horses, up to being able to "read" a XC course at the 3* level and understand what it takes to care for and ride upper level eventers. I am insatiably curious, and it pays off to be so in a sport like horseback riding where you can never ever know everything. One thing I do know about myself now, is that I am a good steward of the animals in my care. I can confidently and comfortably manage a group of horses, but especially my own. I know what they need and what they want and I understand them and they seem to understand that about me. I'm the girl the loose horses at shows run to, and the girl the scared, lost, or wandering children in public places flock to. I don't know why and sometimes I laugh when I remember praying to God when I was little for him to please make me like Snow White so that all the animals would come to me, and I think He has a funny sense of humor in answering that prayer. People say to me often, "this ____ (horse, dog, child, etc.) seems so comfortable with you!" and sometimes I'm very thankful for that, and sometimes I would like them to remove their snot covered child from my lap and take it home so that I can eat my dinner in peace...<br />
<br />
The hardest part for me now, is that the horse shaped hole isn't full. I have the perfect place to keep a horse, the time to care for and ride a horse, the supplies and tack and equipment to outfit us for any activity, and the knowledge and skills to provide the horse with a happy career and happy life suitable for what he or she may need. I even have the income to maintain the horse, but the horse shaped hole still isn't full. I have, luckily, had the chance to ride some amazing horses and lease a few really nice horses that have taught me a lot and for that, I'm extremely appreciative. I'm just finally ready to have my own horse again. Partly because I really like to manage my own horses based on my beliefs in what they need, but also because, as I'm sure a mother knows that their child may love their nanny, but will never have the same bond as they do to their mother, I'm tired of being the nanny to the horses, I want the bond that you only have with your own horse. My gut keeps telling me no when I'm offered leases. It's time for me to find my "heart horse".<br />
<br />
I've been casually looking at OTTB's again because I love Thoroughbreds and want somewhat of a young horse, but unfortunately my champagne taste in young prospects is often overruled by my beer budget. The two horses I have really liked, both sold in a matter of hours, as I'm not the only one with good taste in horses. I also do not have a truck and trailer of my own (pro grooming is great experience, but not for those that wish to maintain large bank accounts), so I'm at the mercy of timing and borrowing things when it's convenient for others- which makes it rather difficult to purchase anything quickly. I also find it really important to find someone who wants their horse happy and well cared for, but ultimately I have to also realize that the bottom line is often the money for a seller. I think that's what I find the most foreign of all when it comes to humans, money is always the driving force, even over love, and I HATE that about our culture and motivations. I have removed a variety of relationships from my life when I realize that money is more important to them than a relationship with another human being and it frightens me that this is the norm for so many people. I totally understand that it takes money to live, but I can assure you I will probably never have a surplus of money, because I will spend it on, or give it to those that need it more than me at that moment. That's what life is really about- getting everyone's holes in their hearts filled.<br />
<br />
So for now, the search continues, my $1000 budget is not likely to change any time soon, but somewhere out there, I know there's a horse that needs me, and that I need, and eventually, I hope someone will see that even though my funds are meager, my capacity to care for and love a horse, is worth more than the money in their pocket.<br />
ETRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780907307411261478noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5219339306138629272.post-75733229674280934152014-07-06T20:59:00.001-04:002014-07-06T20:59:38.028-04:00Six Days...There are six days until the wedding, and I just heard the most beautiful words I've ever heard out of my fiance's mouth. Better than "I love you", better than, "Will you marry me?", better than, "Do you want me to bring you some ice cream?". Yes. Better. I was just casually mentioning that Liz (his sister) told me that their family in England has access to extra WEG (World Equestrian Games) tickets in Normany, France and how cool it would be to go. Then he said the words "I've always wanted to go to Normandy! We should go watch cross country and stay at a winery before the weekend or go to my family's house in the Alps as our honeymoon! Is Boyd riding?" I mean, other than the fact that my fiance has a somewhat sizeable man crush on Boyd Martin and whether or not he is riding could dictate the plans for our honeymoon, these are perhaps the most fun series of phrases I've ever heard him utter. I reminded him that Kim (Severson) is riding and that Lis Storandt will be there too. (We know these people better than we know Boyd, and I think they are equally as pretty) He then said, "We should look for flights!" OMG. Could this be the honeymoon of my dreams? Wine. Romantic dates with my new Hubby. Horses. Friends. French. <strike>Boyd stalking.</strike> Bread.<br />
Here's the hitch... I am a TERRIBLE flyer and these flights are LONG. Also we can't currently afford anything even close to those plane tickets. However, I found a four leaf clover today in the yard so maybe some luck will come our way. Maybe they can drug me for the entire flight if we go. Even if we don't go, I'm still pretty sure I'm marrying the sweetest man in the world just for considering letting me watch XC at WEG as part of our honeymoon. I love him. <strike>He loves Boyd.</strike>ETRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780907307411261478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5219339306138629272.post-12241884739056183252014-06-20T17:35:00.000-04:002014-06-20T17:35:28.860-04:00Welcome to 2014That's right, I'm welcoming myself to 2014. After three long years of using my data package on my phone in about 5 days, and driving into town to send e-mails, and not being to write or post to this site because it's painfully frustrating to do it from my phone- WE FINALLY HAVE THE INTERNET!!!<br />
<br />
"What?" you say, "you didn't have the internet for THREE years?" Yes. That's correct. I don't even live in an off the grid prepper commune, I live just 20 minutes south of a major city in Virginia, but there were NO available internet providers, besides satellite, which doesn't work- ever. There are actually so few available internet providers that our local school kids have terrible standardized test scores because so few of them have access. The federal government did a little investigation because they couldn't understand why the test scores were so low when the district is well funded from a rather high income tax base. Turns out not having the internet makes you dumber. Oops. This is what I've been dealing with. So I'm out of my horse filled bubble (more on that later) and back into reality, and the ability to order things from amazon. Yay.<br />
<br />
A lot has happened so far in 2014 that I can't wait to catch up writing about, notably:<br />
1. I'm getting married on July 12<br />
2. I left my job at Plain Dealing Farm<br />
3. I don't have a horse to ride regularly, and I'm learning to not have a nervous breakdown every day when I think about it.<br />
4. I've decided that we can't blame the weirdness of the majority of today's children on our electronic culture, as much as we have to blame the parents. WTF is wrong with my generation of parents? Again, more on this later.<br />
5. Bad managerial skills are detrimental to your business and the ability to maintain good employees. WHY, would you keep a bad manager instead of a good group of employees? Funny anecdotes on this later too.<br />
6.They've removed me from the list of EN writers on Eventingnation.com along with my pic and profile. It makes me sad. It's probably because I was unable to post anything for months on end due to former job constraints and the LACK OF INTERNET in my life. I still want to write about horses though, so I'll just have to find another way to get paid to do it! Or maybe they will one day answer my e-mail begging them to still let me write. <strike>Sometimes</strike> Most of the time, I read the things people write about horses/horsecare online and it scares me. It's the only thing I can honestly say "I know things" about, and I'm confident in my knowledge, and I feel the need to rid the world of terrible horse care advice. In case you are looking for some shining examples of bad horse care advice, see the OTTB Connect group on Facebook. It's like a horror show.<br />
7. Fiance's with narcolepsy... Life can be a snore.<br />
8. Ten reasons why my dogs are more needy than your toddler.<br />
9. How to work really hard for little to no money because you suck at negotiating like an adult and are terrified of conflict...my personal specialty.<br />
10. Twenty reasons why my mother should plan your wedding. Buzz feed style.<br />
<br />
Can't wait to catch up soon!<br />
-eETRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780907307411261478noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5219339306138629272.post-1639195519581970052013-09-07T20:41:00.001-04:002013-09-07T20:41:09.260-04:00<div class="MsoNormal">
“Aren’t we all forced to live with the decisions we make?”
The wise words of Lady Mary resonated in my head as I scrolled through my news
feed and wondered if it was weird to think that even though your baby is super
cute, I still think my horse is cuter. If you are wondering who Lady Mary is,
please minimize this window and immediately amend your Netflix queue to include
Downton Abbey- all of it. Anyway, it’s funny how a simple Facebook news feed
can make you question the decisions you’ve made and the trajectory of your
life, or repeatedly remind you that you are exactly where you are meant to be;
as I believe wholeheartedly that I am. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m 30, there I said it. If you had asked me ten years ago
where I would be when I was 30 I assure you I would have given you an entirely
different scenario than the one in which I live. When I was twenty I was
dangerously sure of myself and my sunny future as an art teacher with a cute
house and 2.5 children and 4 dogs. Now,
I realize that had that “plan” come true, I would now be terribly unhappy and
unfulfilled. Don’t get me wrong, I have plenty of friends that took a more
traditional domestic path and are blessed with precious children and tremendous
happiness. I LOVE looking at their cute pictures and hearing their funny
stories and I totally applaud them for being able to get two kids up, dressed,
fed and in the car and to school by 8am and managing to look cute doing it! I
can barely feed my dogs and find clothes to wear by 8am, much less worry about
trying to even speak to anyone else most days. The point is, as the wisdom of
being 30seems to spill upon me from every corner of the universe, I am becoming
more and more at peace with my less than traditional life- in fact, I love it.
Thank goodness for 2011, my worst and best year, where the choices I made, made
over my life, and instead of feeling selfish about it, I finally just felt like
me. Now I wake up and I know that I am loved, I know that I am thankful for the
day and the chance to be present in it, and I know that there is “something
more” for me. One day, if I do have 2.5 children and go back to teaching art, I
will be ready for it and happy about it, but for now, my life spent with
horses, and “horse people” and on the road to here and there is exactly what I
need. Every day is a bit of an adventure, and every night I go to bed tired in
a good way. I am in fact, entirely able to get up before 8am and get horses
ready and in tip top shape for horse shows, because horse shows are still
exciting, exhilarating, challenging and fulfilling for me. The majority of the
horses I take care of are not mine, never will be, and I will never be the one
to ride them into that competition arena, but when they succeed, when they
learn and when they exhibit the great athleticism that they possess (hopefully
in an obedient manner), it still thrills me to my core. That’s how I know I’m
supposed to be in this world. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
So many of my non-horsey friends and family ask me what it’s
all about to live in the “horse world” now, as they call it. It’s not really
something that can be explained in literal terms, and it’s not something that I
dare say, the majority of people would care for, but for those of us that know,
and understand, and want to be there, the horse world is everything. Over the
past few years working at a big eventing farm and traveling, sometimes
endlessly, to shows, I have learned a lot about our sport. Some things I’ve
seen, heard, and witnessed have made me angry and sad and disillusioned for a
while, but at the core, our sport is still about the love and respect for the
animal- the horse. Eventers are a bit of a subculture. Many of us are a little
rough around the edges after years spent in too much sun, working too hard for
too many hours; but so many of us do all that because we want to, not because
we have to. It surely isn’t done for the glamorous prizes, the sheer celebrity,
and the big fat paychecks. We can, or do, have “regular” jobs” with regular
hours, and most of us have to, to even get to be a part of this world. We toil
away in the sun, rain, snow, hail, thunder, mud, more mud, and wind, because we
just love it. I’ve seen the most fabulous sunrises, sunsets, farms, land,
animals, storms, and places solely because of this sport. There’s no way to
explain to someone the feeling of a perfect cross country ride, or when your
horse finally puts his damn head down and understands what you want in the
dressage. Unless you’ve felt it, you just can’t know. If you ask any of those
seemingly “rough” eventers about their best ride and their greatest horse, they
will become poets in front of you, with smiles that linger in their eyes as
they tell you their stories. It always boils down to being just about the horse
and the partnership, the ups and downs and challenges and failures are
inevitable, but so worth it. There aren’t many sports where you can truly be a
lifelong learner, where Olympians still take lessons, instead of just teaching
them, or where your “equipment” has a mind of it’s own and your competitors are
also your best friends. That, is my
“horse world” in a nutshell and I feel lucky every day to be a part of
something so much bigger than just me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
So here I am, in my 30<sup>th</sup> year, in a great house
in the country, with two dogs, two horses, one goldfish and someone that I love
more than I could ever say, and I’m so glad that my choices, some great and
others questionable, brought me here. Tomorrow morning, when I wake up and look
out my window and see a field full of horses, I’ll be reminded again that doing
what you love is never the wrong choice. </div>
ETRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780907307411261478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5219339306138629272.post-48344175782760801612012-05-07T17:59:00.001-04:002012-05-07T17:59:50.240-04:00high on summertimei cant believe it's been three months since my last post- time is FLYING by this spring/summer and i feel like i've sort of been on overdrive since aiken.<br />
we got home from aiken after a weekend full of ups and downs at Poplar and I got to spend the weekend sleeping at my parents' house in Hamilton which was nice. even with the flurry of horse show activity it was great to see them and wake up to a view of the lake- i felt very "homeless" in aiken and I'm not great at making transitions with living quarters so it took a big bunch of stress off of my plate to be somewhere i felt so comfortable.<br />
<br />
since we got home from Aiken, after a fairly exhausting truck breakdown on Easter sunday, there has pretty much been a show every weekend and i've been living a bit like a gypsy out of suitcases, shopping bags and my car- which is ummm interesting. i survived my 29th birthday without crying about being old and my friends and family were actually really fantastic and kept me quite entertained, full of sugar, and feeling ok about getting so close to the big 3-0! my sweet boyfriend was out of town that day, but we celebrated later with a romantic dinner and he gave me the first light blue Tiffany's box I have ever received with a really pretty infinity necklace inside- which i wear almost every day.<br />
<br />
i decided to take my yearly vacay to Rolex at the end of April and was excited about it but THEN, i got offered a grooming job AT rolex while we were at the Fork, which was even more exciting- so i took it! it was a fabulously wonderful week grooming for Madeline Blackburn and Gordonstown (and her two other non compete horses) and it was so great to experience Rolex from the "inside looking out" this year as it's always been my absolute favorite horse event of the year. Maddie and Gtown rocked the very difficult XC course which took out almost half the field of competitors and also had only one of three double clear show jumping rounds on sunday- SO amazing!<br />
<br />
after a quick week at home and much cuddling with the doggies- who surely think our petsitter is perhaps their real daddy since i've been away so much, we were off this past weekend to MCTA which was a beautiful event and a great weekend where Murray won the intermediate, sammy jo was 5th in the prelim and moddy was 7th in the novice. all the ponies arrive home safely and jogged sound and went out to graze and i had a date with my pajamas! we also got to spend a night out in Baltimore, which has some really cute areas and good food and nightlife. we met Steve's brother and sister-in-law (who is super pregnant and super cute) out for dinners and i was happy "as a clam" with my dinner of oysters and beer. it was too cloudy to see the supermoon, but i realized that i really like Maryland!<br />
<br />
the next few months are sure to be action packed with lots of shows- possibly Bromont in Canada- which would be super exciting and hopefully a few weekends at home where i can spend saturday morning wandering around the Charlottesville farmers market and hanging out in the garden with the doggies.<br />
<br />
jazz was as glad as i was to be home from Aiken- she was not a fan of the "high stress" environment of that farm and has been stellar on the flat and over fences since we got home. with as much as i am travelling it's hard for me to keep her in consistent work, which she prefers, so i'm considering sending her to a friend in Kentucky who said she would gladly take the ride on her and keep her in shape. it would be great for us both since she appreciates a routine and i need a horse that i can come home to after two weeks and bop around a novice course without quite as much "exuberance" as jazz often has to offer. she's much to sound, athletic and talented to be a pasture puff and although i have dreams of breeding her for my next horse, it's not in the budget at the moment- although i already have a long list of baby daddy's for her.<br />
<br />
boyfriend is travelling as much as i am, if not more, so i relish those shows where he is already there doing the course and i get to see him after work. we have a trip planned to GA soon- which will be fun as he's never spent much time there or met my dad etc. or eaten at my brother's restaurant- so we have some adventures in store and hopefully some down time where i can lay around and be sedentary and cuddle with the doggies and him.<br />
<br />
the summer nights are getting warmer and i love that the days are getting longer and longer- i feel like i get so much more accomplished when the days are longer and there's nothing that makes me happier than frolicking around the yard barefoot with the dogs and throwing an easy dinner on the grill. i had a day off today- and even though i have spent the majority of it at the DMV finally getting the VA tags for the car and am currently sitting at an auto garage getting my inspection stickers, i'm looking forward to an evening on the porch and probably and early bedtime. im so old- i know.<br />
<br />
more later- i have a rant about 3 series BMW's and salt life stickers to share....<br />
<br />
-ellieETRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780907307411261478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5219339306138629272.post-40768117495251416242012-02-06T20:32:00.000-05:002012-02-06T20:32:05.605-05:00a breath of fresh air...I was busy they other night being super lame because I am now "normally" in bed by about 8:30 these days; (Why? Because I'm perilously close to turning 29 and apparently that means I get lamer by the day...)<br />
and I was reading a little magazine on the history of Aiken and learned that originally, people started coming here for the fresh air and to get away from the muggy, buggy, air in Charleston. It was a respite for those with respiratory issues, or those that needed a break from "city life". With the vacationers came the horses, and farms were built all over for polo and foxhunting and other equestrian sport.<br />
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Here we are today and Aiken is still a cute very horse centered town. I have to agree the air is often quite crisp and it's strangely breezy most of the time- for the very flat terrain anyway. So this weekend, my very own breath of fresh air rolled into town in the form of my two doggies- brought down by one very cute course builder/boyfriend. I cannot even describe my excitement when I woke up on Friday morning and knew it was only a matter of hours until I got to hug those two precious furry faces that would surely be accompanied by Steve and that smile that gives me butterflies. As the day went on, it became apparent that my gloriously imagined reunion with my three favorites was not going to go quite as planned. Steve got called to do some work out on the course at Sporting Days, and I got busier and busier- as the day before horse shows alway seems chaotic- no matter how organized you think you are! Finally- I had to jet out to Buckleigh to get the dogs- who were with his sister and her horses that she brought down for the show and I would just have to catch up with him later. When I finally arrived after what seemed like the longest 25 minutes ever (bear in mind I have NEVER been away from my dogs for 3 weeks before), I already had tears in my eyes as I opened the tack room door on the horse trailer and Doodle literally came shooting out in all of her fat black dog excitement and tackled me to the ground. I hugged her and rolled around on the dusty ground a bit with her as she squealed and cried with excitement and poodle was jumping in my face and licking me between barks. I missed them more than I realized and I was so glad to see those sweet faces. I sat with them in the dirt for a few minutes and then had to throw them in the truck and jet back to the farm because there was still a set of horses to hack, evening feeds and two to braid!<br />
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Steve arrived later luckily catching a ride back to the farm with Lucia who went to walk her courses and we had a relaxing night in. I snuggled incessantly with Rylie Boo and was happy as ever to drift off to sleep with her little brown furry body nestled next to me and the soundtrack of Doodle breathing/snoring on the floor next to the bed. As good weekends always do, time flew and before I knew it, it was Sunday morning and I had to load them back into the truck and drop them with Steve, his sister and mom for the drive back to Virginia. I drove there basically in silence, knowing that if I talked too much about saying good bye to the girls and Steve, my throat would tighten up and my eyes would well with tears. I managed to squeak out a good bye to everyone and hug the girls before trotting back to the truck without a major breakdown.<br />
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Dont' get me wrong- life in Aiken is fab and horse filled, but I miss my dogs and I had no idea how attached I had already become to the tall blonde boy. My dogs are literally my "four-legged children" and I can only imagine how hard it is to be separated for any length of time from your human children, if being separated from my canine children is this tough. They seemed very happy though and Rylie Boo is ridiculously attached to Steve, literally whining for him every time he left the room or the car. I was a little jealous...<br />
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So my breath of fresh air blew out of Aiken as quickly as it blew in. I needed some time with my doggies and I'm so grateful they got to come down for a visit. Hopefully they can come again for the Pine Top advanced weekend. Until then, I'm breathing the crisp air outside and missing them a lot, but remaining thankful for all the good friends and family I have- long distance or close, I'm grateful for all of them.<br />
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Horse related updates coming soon. Jazzy has something to tell you.<br />
-EllieETRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780907307411261478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5219339306138629272.post-69733688397780160282012-02-02T21:27:00.001-05:002012-02-02T21:42:03.599-05:00The blink of an eyeI can pretty much safely navigate the stairs from our over-the-barn apartment down to the main barn aisle in complete darkness now. I've found if I don't turn the lights on the stairs on, then my eyes adjust to the darkness faster once I'm outside and I like that better than waiting and almost walking into the fence while everything still looks pitch black.<br />
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The reason I have developed this preference, is that it simply isn't cold enough when we feed around 4:30 or 5:00 for the horses to have their "pajamas" on yet and I can't stand the thought of them standing out there at dusk, sweating, then as soon as it gets dark the air gets crisp and they are standing damp under their blankets. All of them except Jazz and Stanley are fully clipped so they wear a variety of clothes on any given evening/morning and sometimes we change blanket weights up to three times a day- and on those days I wish for summer!<br />
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Anyway, although I am often tired at the end of the day and it's hard to wait to put on my pajamas until 10:00 or so because I don't want my pajamas to be covered in sand and smell like horse pee (the perpetual perfume of blankets), I really don't mind the blanketing in the darkness ritual. There's something about visiting each one of them and giving them one last pat on the neck or rub on the face at night. They sniff and snuff me up and down to see if I brought them anything and most of them stand quite nicely to be blanketed without making me halter them or catch them at all. Usually Jazz is the most difficult one of course, because she hates wearing clothes, but once she's still, she puts up with me and just makes ugly faces in the dark about it.<br />
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I love the quiet of nights here at the farm, and the "horses at night" sounds that are so familiar to me now. I can hear horses underneath me in the stalls nosing at the their sometimes empty water buckets, or the few paws at the stall floor before they lay down. Outside, where our horses are turned out at night, I can hear the swish of their tails against their blankets and the perfect grind of their teeth against their evening hay and that soft sound of their hooves in the grass. Before my eyes have adjusted completely to the darkness and I'm still scanning the paddocks for a dark shape against the lighter sky, I can usually find them by these little sounds. Each horse has it's own little profile of sounds, Fi snorts all the time, Mod's teeth grind louder when he eats hay, Jazz snuffs out big breaths before she walks my way, Oudo licks his lips while he gets blanketed, Gibbie lets out soft nickers if he thinks I have treats and sometimes clacks his teeth together when he's not in the mood to be messed with, Stan sniffs the most- just like a puppy... the list goes on. It's funny to me how comfortable I am with them in the complete darkness. I know each one of them and their body and their gait and their smell and even their individual whinnies just by the sound. After a few minutes I can see much better and I don't have to fasten the surcingles by feel- I can see them pretty well. As I say goodnight to each of them and climb out of their paddocks over the fences in my mishmash of blanketing outfits that is usually made up of Uggs- yoga pants and t-shirts with a jacket thrown on top, I wonder what they all think about the clumsy humans that come to dress them every night. Horses of course see much better than I do at night, and if I take the time to really notice the beauty of the darkness and the stars and the crisp air and the sweet perfume of warm horse, I'm glad that I'm not missing it and I wonder again what they see that I can't- how much there is that they don't miss that we do. <br />
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In the blink of an eye, we can miss so many details of our day- the mundane things that are really beautiful and lovely and special because we are always in such a hurry to get things accomplished. Efficiency and accomplishment are noble goals, but sometimes so is simple observation. How many people will go their entire lives without knowing the pleasure of a night walking through horse paddocks in the darkness- taking in the brightness of the stars in a country sky and the smells and the breeze.I'm glad I know that pleasure, but what else am I missing? I'm adding appreciating more simple and beautiful details of my day to my resolutions for 2012- hope you'll join me!<br />
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-Ellie<br />
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P.S.- USET winter training sessions are here at the farm on Monday- I'll try to maintain my composure and not act like a 13 year old girl at the sight of Justin Bieber- I'll try... and maybe I can sneak in some auditing because either Capt. Mark Phillips or Katie Prudent will be teaching. Yay.ETRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780907307411261478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5219339306138629272.post-3364511277508347352012-01-19T22:16:00.000-05:002012-01-19T22:16:28.097-05:002012 begins in a whirlwind...As usual, I can't believe it's already the 19th of January and my last post seems like a lifetime ago. I started this blog as an online diary of sorts for my "one day" family to have and to remind myself of who I am and why- so in 2012 I resolve to continue, and hopefully more often! Suprisingly, every once in a while I get a txt, e-mail or FB message from someone reminding me to blog- and although I am stunned that anyone really reads this thing, I'm honored to be your entertainment of sorts. So- here we go!<br />
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2012 started in a literal whirlwind of activity. I went home for a bit over Christmas and it was nice to see my family and friends in Georgia and catch up and relax. I did miss the horses, the farm and VA though, and even after that 10 hour drive, I was glad to be back home at Pine Cottage. Speaking of "home", my last post was a lot about "home", and finally feeling like VA was it. When I got back from GA, we immediately started packing for Aiken, SC- which is where we move all the competition horses and effectively, the whole operation, for the winter so that we can get all the horses in shape and start competing earlier down where the weather is mild. "Home" it's not- but it's our temporary home base for now! The eventing world seems to migrate south for the winter, just as the birds do, and they either land in Aiken or Ocala. We landed at a fabulous farm called Stable View, and we share it with Kim Severson Eventing and crew and a few other students and eventers that come in and out from California etc. <br />
We are here until mid March and literally every moment of every day is consumed by horses and all that they entail- which is basically my idea of heaven, but it is HARD work and long hours! My hands are cut up and chapped and I'm a bit sun/wind burned and every muscle in my body is literally tired by the end of the day. I sometimes fall asleep before nine because I'm just plain worn out! I'm not complaining though, I still love every minute of what I do, and I love the seven horses we have down here (plus Jazz) as if they were my own and I literally go to sleep and wake up sometimes thinking of ways to make sure they are happy, safe, and sound. So things are busy busy busy- between feeding, hay, blanketing, stalls, walks, grooming, riding, hacking, hauling to lessons and XC schooling- plus shows- we are like three tornados of activity (Lucia, Benita and me)! Even on the coldest and windyest of days here with the horses, I still don't wish for an office and I still feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. We live at the farm in an apartment above the main barn, which is lovely. My two current biggest wishes are for some better sheets- we all know how i feel about good linens, and some really cushiony bedroom slippers. So I was thinking today that if those are really the only two things I need right now- I am pretty lucky. Onto the children:<br />
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I got to bring Jazz down and she transitioned very well and is feeling good under saddle. She is by far the most neglected looking horse on the property- unclipped and a bit unkempt since I don't have a ton of extra time to spend with her right now, but even being the worst looking horse on the property isn't much of an insult since she is surrounded by lovely world class eventers and she's keeping her weight on this winter and feels nice a fit and slightly exhuberant at times. I am toying with the idea of selling her as a hunt horse since that's really where she's at her happiest, but it would take an incredible home and a pretty sweet check to get me to part with her. Here's a little pic of her enjoying her turnout time after we went on a canter/gallop today around the farm on our hack trails:<br />
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As far the doggies, this is where it gets interesting...<br />
They are in VA- without me. As in not here- not with me. I miss them so much thats it's hard to describe in actual words- but it's whats best for them and me right now because I barely have time to even groom Jazz on a daily basis and I work in the barn where she resides, so the doggies would be fairly miserable locked in my room in the apartment all day. They aren't "farm dog" enough to run free all day without poodle getting herself into trouble and barking incessantly at every passerby. Doodle would acclimate quickly but would worry herself in to a tizzy for about the first week trying to protect me from every horse, person and other dog that came near. So- they are at home because I have failed as a mother to socialze them properly. Really, I just never had a job that was conducive to them being around before, so they never really learned that barn dog- everything is cool and i don't need to chase it/bark at it/roll in it- kind of behavior. <br />
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Who? on EARTH, you ask would I leave my dogs with? A boy, that's who. Yes, there is a boy in my life currently, although I'm pretty much expecting him to run for the hills any day now because Rylie Boo and Doodle can be a bit consuming. Cuddles and cuteness can only get you so far when you shed 48 pounds of black hair a day and sometimes decide that spreading trash alllllll over the house is perhaps the best trick ever. So he's pretty much a saint in my book for taking care of them, and it was all VERY last minute- because they were originally supposed to come down with me, but as they often do, things change at the last minute and it was determined to be best that they stay in VA. So as I sort of choked back tears after thinking of leaving them, he offered to keep them at my house, and I immediately declined his offer. After thinking on it for a day and swiftly running out of other ideas and considering how much they like him and how much better they would be at home with their normal routine, I brought it up again and he didn't "suddenly have to go out of town" or anything like that and just calmly assured me that they would all get along just fine. I have NEVER been away from my doggies for more than a week and today marks seven days, so I'm getting pretty misty eyed when I think about them, and continually more grateful to him that I haven't yet gotten the phone call that says, "umm, I need you to figure out something for your dogs" while simultaneously getting a Facebook relationship status change update. <br />
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Since about June 2011, I had decided that it was probably best to just never ever fall in love, since that means that I would never get my heart broken. Strangely enough, I wasn't totally sad and heartbroken after my last relationship ended because it was/is what's best for both of us. However, the hardest words I have ever heard in my life were, "you are impossible to love" and hearing that did break my heart- although I didn't quite get it at the time, that pain instantaneously erected what I would describe as a steel reinforced, concrete, electrified, barbed wire coated force field around my capacity to ever allow myself to feel emotion for another human again. So yes, I've been happier than ever in the last 6 months, and yes, I am literally excited to get up every morning and live my life, and yes, I've been dating a lot, but NO, I have not allowed myself to form any sort of any kind of attachment to any boy of any sort. I tend to date them for a bit, and then when they start to talk about getting serious, or I catch myself thinking about them being around long-term, I end it.<br />
I realize that's an unhealthy way to conduct an adult relaionship and it's selfish and a tad immature- but I realized why I was doing it- so there's some progress. <br />
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What the heck does this have to do with anything? Well, this boy is keeping my dogs, and this boy makes me laugh and smile and I just want to always be near him- like every second of every day. Anyone who knows me knows that I am normally not clingy, and have even been accused to being a little standoffish at times, even with my closest family and friends- so this is all quite new to me. I am officially being coached by a few good friends to "not screw this one up" and "return phone calls and texts" and "actually call him", and I have and the funny thing is, I actually want to. So that's good. The fact that I left my dogs with him at all is a huge indicator that he perhaps has made me change my mind about some things and although I don't know where this will go or how long it will last, I have enjoyed every minute of it and plan to continue doing so. And so here I sit, in Aiken, missing him more than I think I have ever missed anyone, even more than I miss the dogs. Blissfully happy with life and work and where I am, but missing him. (Thank God he doesnt know this blog exists because I sound SO lame) He says he's coming down in February to a horse show and hopefully I can resist the urge to leap into his arms and knock him over when I see him, and hopefully I won't die without my doggies before then. We shall see!<br />
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More to come from all that is Aiken, and perhaps the center of the horsey universe...<br />
-EllieETRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780907307411261478noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5219339306138629272.post-51143757046404917282011-10-16T20:48:00.001-04:002011-10-16T20:52:02.512-04:00Better Days<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKplMsQ1pze7lRqcXSVM5M59P98umMCgNYb0IgpciPzVE5936n_KyNYby5DEWFkcg8fRocyPWdshzGWgfA0cTDDJjdtKOEtRHXhmvHGGCLbGLTlaRQPwc8kKm55eBBiqVJG8R4IaVVgGW5/s1600/296540_10100763310501480_4902497_64654501_2105513311_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKplMsQ1pze7lRqcXSVM5M59P98umMCgNYb0IgpciPzVE5936n_KyNYby5DEWFkcg8fRocyPWdshzGWgfA0cTDDJjdtKOEtRHXhmvHGGCLbGLTlaRQPwc8kKm55eBBiqVJG8R4IaVVgGW5/s320/296540_10100763310501480_4902497_64654501_2105513311_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
I think every time I post a new post, it's sort of sickeningly happier than the previous one. Well, too bad, because I'm still happy.<br />
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I was talking to a friend the other day and we were talking about how the decade of your twenties is sort of this weird purgatory where you sometimes feel like a man without a home. You are out of college, off on your own, and hopefully finally out of your parents' house, but you haven't yet quite established your own home and your own set of tradtitions etc. The holidays, for example are still typically spent at your parent's house and even if you are married etc. , your house/apt/whatever is still new and full of hand me down furniture and crap from Ikea. You might not have children yet or even know if you want them, but those ideas dance around in your head uncertainly. Finding a job and establishing yourself and your life and your habits is key to making a home- it's not just the dwelling, but the lifestyle around it. At the end of our conversation, we were both saying that even though we aren't married/in serious relationships with anyone, we finally feel like we are "home" in Virginia. He is from up north, and I am from Georgia, but we were both discussing how blissfully awesome this state is and how much we love where we are in our lives right now. Of course, having someone to cuddle up with at night and talk about that with would be fun, but it was clear to both of us that it's not just the dwelling that makes you "home"- it's so much more than that. I haven't felt at home in a LONG time. Not in Atlanta, and not anywhere else really, but here, I feel home, and I love it.<br />
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Virginia is/has everything that makes me feel like me. Today I spent the morning taking the dogs on a walk through the woods- no leashes required. Then I walked back to my house- where I feel safe leaving my doors unlocked (i know i know) and gave them baths, then did some laundry and hung out and read a few magazines in my quietly sun soaked living room, got myself dressed and drove down back roads to a lunch date at a little restaurant off the beaten path, then hopped in the truck- checked out a few gorgeous trout streams and mountain views, picked up some apples at a local orchard, then hiked up to a waterfall, came back to the farm to feed the horses and say hey to Jazz, and then home to cook some dinner. Just a blissfully simple and absolutely beautiful day. No stress, no traffic and no drama. It's so refreshing to have a day like that- and the cool thing about it is, every day can be like that here. It's just where I am supposed to be and I am soooo thankful that I listened when all signs pointed to here.<br />
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It's so cliche to tell people to "do what makes you happy"- but I am a believer and as silly as I feel saying this- I hope maybe that someone reading this will just take that step that they are afraid to take and make their happiness happen. It's worth all the hardship in between. SO worth it to do what makes you "you". That's my sermon for this beautiful Sunday- find your home and enjoy it. :)ETRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780907307411261478noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5219339306138629272.post-91936967666619063762011-10-03T18:10:00.000-04:002011-10-03T18:10:40.304-04:00it's fall ya'llit seems like forever since i have sat down and written an actual post, although the little mini ones float around in my head sometimes and i wish i had my computer handy, but then i get distracted by something else, as usual and what could have been short and coherent becomes a mega marathon post- like this one will probably be!<br />
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anyway, let's start with the children. doodle is thoroughly transitioned to farm dog and watching her chase deer to the woods with her hackles raised and barking her big ole scary bark delights me. she is so happy and she loves being outside. the funniest thing she has had to learn and still doesn't quite get is how to get in/out of pasture fences. she's a little tall to go under the lowest board sometimes and watching her try to scoot her rather large black behind underneath is hilarious. once or twice she has slipped between the first and second boards but she can't seem to master this consistently. one day on one of our walks, she got "stuck" in a pasture after taking off to chase the guinea hens and all the coaxing in the world by me just couldn't get her out. i refused to walk alllll the way back to the other side and open the gate for her. those of you that know doodle, know that she is quite vocal and demanding and makes her feelings apparent. she was absolutely beside herself that she was stuck in this four board "jail" as rylie and i made our way down the road back to the trail. finally i stopped giggling at her chorus of sad dog songs and went back, got down on my knees and showed her how to crawl on her belly under neath the fence. you would have thought she had won the lottery when she got up on the other side. i laughed so hard and thought to myself, "damn, you wouldn't survive a day in the wild" and took her back home to feed her dinner.<br />
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rylie boo loves the farm as well, but can't really be trusted out of my site. she is overzealous about most things in life, so the same goes for greeting EVERYONE who passes in front of us, checking out allllll the animals, smelling all the smells, eating numerous types of feces and rolling in unimaginably smelly substances. she prefers to be a biohazard most times, and is currently getting over a three day vomit/diarrhea spree of unknown origin. she is one high maintenance poodle!! but after i have cleaned all of the nasty stank off of her every single day, she is quite the cuddler- so it's worth it.<br />
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jazz has been doing very well and has put on a good bit of weight and muscle. she looks like an actual competition horse most days. she has given me a good scare lately though when she suddenly became really unbalanced feeling, decided to buck me off (from a walk- in one buck) and then exhibit a variety of neuro looking symptoms which of course sent me into a tailspin of worry thinking she had EPM or lymes or something worse. i finally mustered up the courage to call the vet, well actually text him (thank God he texts because he would have heard the tears in my voice if i had to call) and he came out the next morning to give her a full phsyical and neuro exam. of course, like when your car is making a funny noise and you take it into to the shop where it immediately stops making the noise, she was an absolute model of perfection in soundess and passed her neuro exam with flying colors. the final outcome was lumbrosacral back soreness with an Rx of methocarbamol and horners symdrome, which is a temporary disruption of the vestibular system in horses (and also dogs and cats sometimes) which can be caused my a variety of things and explains her two day ear droop and nostril weirdness and unbalanced feeling and look on the longe. i absolutely LOVE our vet at plain dealing, and his calm approach and lack of histrionics about anything- it kept me calm and his methodical exam made me feel like we really were getting to the bottom of things. before he came out, i told almost no one that she wasn't herself because i couldn't handle the sadness and thoughts about what i would have to deal with if i lost her, or she had any sort of debilitating illness. i LOVE that horse, i love her unaffectionate naughty personality and i love the bond we have between us. as i read on facebook the night before about a friend who got the "your best option is euthanasia" diagnoses on her own mare, i could feel my heart breaking for her and for her lovely young mare. sometimes i feel so lucky to love an animal so deeply, and sometimes i have to sit back and realize what a risk it is, but anything worth loving, is worth the risk of losing, and i feel like i know that better than almost anyone sometimes. i am glad i have the capacity to love like i do, so many people go through life without truly loving anything or anyone and i'm glad i'm not one of them!<br />
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speaking of "love", my friends and family have <strike>almost forced</strike> totally encouraged me to start dating again. it has been fun and interesting to say the least. i have been on four dates in about three weeks. two of which were awesome, one of which was nice, but nothing special, and one of which was a second date with my first date. i sat down the other day and did the math on how long its been since i have been on a date. umm, my last "first date" was 2005. scary? yes. i'm quite sure my level of awkwardness on first dates perhaps exceeds any measure, but i do have to say that there are some really nice guys out there. which is refreshing. i have also lost a good bit of weight lately and am feeling more self confident than usual- which is nice when you are about to embark on a blind date! two of the four guys i have dated are definitely worth a second date, so thats 50% success? one i really like, and the other i really really like, but my rusty "he might be a player" alarm is sort of sounding on him. i mean, i 'm not seeing how my first name looks with their last names anytime soon, (yes, ALL girls do that) but it is nice to have a connection with and attraction to someone. i realized that, in my old age, (28) and perhaps through the process of having a marriage fail, i have learned a lot about myself and what i find to be important in a relationship. also i found out that i have good legs, lol- because all four of the guys have commented on that (thank you horseback riding!) anyway, after being out of the "game" for six years, i had to make a sort of mental priority list of what i found to be important in a potential date/relationship. here are the things i realized that i find to be important: (feel free to laugh hysterically at my weirdness and fondness for list making)<br />
1. kind, sparkly eyes attract me first<br />
2. i insist on straight and clean teeth- shallow i know, but i can't handle it.<br />
3. proper grammar. don't get me wrong, i don't mind someone who drops the f-bomb or uses slang terms when being funny or texting, but if you "want to know where i live at"- youre done. done.<br />
4. the ability to converse about topics other than yourself, although i am interested in you, there are other things in this world. bonus points for knowing about trees, cooking, gardens, animals (especially birds and dogs), music, environmental issues and energy efficiency, firearms, movies, and sports.<br />
5. dressing yourself appropriately and attractively and in a manner consistent with current weather conditions. extra points for having additional outerwear on hand and offering it to me when im cold.<br />
6. liking my dogs and interacting with them. bonus points for letting the poodle give you kisses.<br />
7. taking the 10 minutes it would take to actually google "three day eventing" so that you can understand what i'm talking about when i describe my life/job. extra gold stars for actually being interested in my passion.<br />
8. doing something that you enjoy for a living, or making an attempt at it. i do not require a huge bank account at all, but i don't want to hear about how miserable you are every day.<br />
9. laughing and making me laugh- this one is HUGE<br />
10. giving good hugs<br />
11. being tall<br />
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that is all. not really that picky i don't think! <br />
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so here i am, i think probably happier than i've ever been, watching the leaves change on the trees, and realizing that i am probably very unprepared for winters in VA, but enjoying the fall and wishing someone would call and ask me out on a date to go find a good pumpkin. it's fun to be a single girl in this town, with a job i love, a great place to live, and wonderful new friends and old ones who will laugh with me and sometimes chastise me for my awkwardness when i call them to tell them the details of a date. there's so much more to tell concerning my job and my new found love and respect for MOST of the eventing community, but this post is getting too long. i will sit down sometime this week and post about that! until then, go get yourself a pumpkin and take a drive in the country listening to your favorite song- it's the best feeling ever. :)ETRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780907307411261478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5219339306138629272.post-78975464886836974862011-07-08T21:36:00.000-04:002011-07-08T21:36:22.586-04:00a simple little kind of freei was driving down the road to charlottesville the other day and this john mayer song came on, and i haven't really listened to ole john much since college, but this sung rung true with me and my favorite part said:<br />
Nothing to do<br />
Nowhere to be<br />
A simple little kind of free<br />
Nothing to do<br />
No one but me<br />
And that's all I need...<br />
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i haven't updated the blog in a while because there was so much to say and i just couldn't put all the words down in front of me. finally, i have wrapped my head around the last few months and gotten life all sorted out and am finding a new happiness, and wow, it's light and free and graceful and welcomed.<br />
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when i last updated i was sort of realizing that my marriage was not one that was headed for the 50 year mark, or even the 5 year one, and though i like to keep this blog generally related to the "children", it does act as a personal diary of sorts, and this huge life makeover definitely affects me and the four legged kids!<br />
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basically, all in the matter of a week, ryan and i decided to end our marriage amicably and respectfully. we are fine and we are nice and we are fun, but being married just wasn't working. it was totally mutual and i think and hope we will both go on to find a kind of happiness that we both deserve. so the day after our three year wedding anniversary, we decided to split. the day after that, i decided that finishing up my second degree and living in atlanta just didn't really do it for me anymore. i have never really done anything "risky" with my life, but i dove in head first and started searching for jobs in the horse industry. as made obvious in this blog, i am a horse girl to my soul and the older i get, the more i realize that doing what makes you truly happy is in fact, important. i value less and less the things that we are told to think are important and more and more i find myself satisfied by a life lived outdoors, surrounded by horses and dogs and great gardens and good people and the idea of an hour long commute in atlanta traffic every morning just to get to work at a job that i took because i "should" just seems to me to be a life lived untruthfully. i am just not cut out for city/suburb living and that's become more and more ok with me! i found a few job prospects on the internet and went to sleep and slept like a baby for the first time in months. the weight of who i was as the married girl in school living in atlanta was just too heavy for me and the dreams of who i could be as the girl living on a farm somewhere doing what i loved every day flashed through my head and i woke up just knowing that it was time for a change.<br />
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i spent a few days weighing options and praying and praying and praying some more about following HIS plan rather than my own and as usual, in my running joke with Jesus, i asked for my burning bush since i am often too dense to listen to what He is trying to tell me. i wanted to make sure that these ideas about changing my career and lifestyle permanently were no just mine and that they were right for me- i knew everyone would probably think i was running from something, and even though what others think doesn't often bear much weight with my decision making process, i wanted to convince myself that i was running TO something better- and better because God wanted it for me. for the first or maybe second time ever, i got a burning bush. no sooner did i say amen than my phone rang and on the other end was a friendly voice wanting to talk to me about a position at an eventing barn in Virginia called Plain Dealing Farm. as chillbumps rose up on my skin, i thought to myself, "I have heard of this farm before..."<br />
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after that phone call i got invited up for an interview, and i scrambled to send my very best horse related references notice that all this was happening so fast and could they please answer the phone if a 434 number called! the job was my dream job, on a dream of a farm, in a dream of a place, with a dream of a benefits package, but it was real, and i wanted it. i could take my horse, i could bring my dogs, riding would be part of the work day, and traveling to horse trials all over the country and possibly internationally was all int eh job description. my excitement grew for the interview and i filled my family and close friends in on what was going on. i drove up with mom, promising myself and her that i wouldn't accept the position just because it had to do with horses, it had to be perfect, and it had to fit my life and there were just a lot of "ifs" that had to fall into place. i have seen many a beautiful farm, and many a beautiful horse and many a tree lined drive, but i got out of the car, and i just knew i was home. literally, i knew. i worked a day at the farm and did the riding part of my interview and they offered me the job in the tack room just after that. i accepted. and here we are...<br />
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as im writing this i am sitting in a holiday inn in maryland. we are up at the loch moy horse trials this weekend and we brought four of the six competition horses. in the last two weeks i have had to say goodbye to all of my family and friends in georgia, the state i have called home my entire life, move an entire house full of furniture, two dogs, and a horse and a barn full of stuff 11 hours north to virginia, move in my new house "pine cottage", on the edge of the farm, start a new job, make friends, learn a whole new farm full of horses, dogs, guinea hens, peacocks, chickens, and proliferate skunk population (thats another story), learn every detail for the care of six upper level event horses, how to drive a stick shift mini truck, how to feel comfortable driving a 3 horse, 4 horse, or 6 horse gooseneck trailer and dually down curvy mountain roads carrying horses worth more than my life and everything in it, the feed and care for all the other farm horses (including one very special retired silver medalist we call the danimal, aka winsome adante), relearn how to put studs in, give IM and IV shots, set jumps, get the skunk smell off of a 2* horse and his flymask, coax a snake from the indoor arena, get fresh black petroleum based fence paint off of a 3* horse for the THIRD day in a row, clip and braid all the competition horses, weed and plant a garden, try to design an obstacle course difficult enough to keep a large black dog named doodle OUT of my bed (i haven't won yet), learn my way around scottsville and charlottesville, learn how to NOT make a face when Dave Matthews walks in to have pizza at the obscure little lunch place where you are eating and then you subsequently find out he is your neighbor, also not make a face when olympic/rolex event riders waltz in the barn and say "that horse in the second pasture is running around like crazy" (oh yes, that would be mine), make food to take to 4th of july parties to hopefully make more friends and not feel homesick for the ones i left in atl. and don't get to see, ride my horse in the evenings as the sun sets over the hills and the buzz of the daily farm activities is replaced by chirping crickets and then go home at the end of the day every day and get to watch the dogs run around in a huge yard, fence and leash free, and enjoy themselves and refuse to come inside until they are covered in mud and some currently unnamed smell that i can't figure out, give them baths in the hose outside, and then beat the thunderstorms inside to crash in the bed and listen to the rain on my metal roof. that's just a sampling of the last two weeks, and i've never been so tired and so happy all at once. as soon as my head hits the pillow i am asleep, but as soon as my alarm goes off, i am ready for another day and thankful for it.<br />
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i miss my friends, i miss my family and i miss the familiarity of everything in GA, but i can't imagine a better place to be right now, and a cooler town to be in, or a better farm to live on. thank God for my burning bush that day, and that i had sense enough to see it.<br />
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tomorrow is an early morning- up at five, so more to come later. :)ETRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780907307411261478noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5219339306138629272.post-44203632801198650442011-06-07T11:48:00.000-04:002011-06-07T11:48:19.951-04:00She's back!I had a dressage lesson Sunday night, after the infamous Saturday night ride full of the previously described capriole-crowhop combination. I was steeling myself for the mare to pull out her bag of tricks for the lesson, since when we ended the ride on Saturday (on a good note), she still had plenty of energy left to offer, despite the 97 degree heat at 7pm! Being the show-off that she is sometimes however, she put her dressage panties on and we had a great lesson, given that this was only my third ride since her three week vacay to get over the beginnings of ulcers (that we originally thought was back/hip pain) and her allergy season. Since this is only my second spring with her, I have now learned my lesson the hard way that she is very sensitive to the weather changes between winter and spring- hindsight is 20/20, but next year I will be watching her like a hawk for the first sign of any discomfort! It's hard to explain how she can be stoic and dramatic all at once- but now I know what to look for with her body language and attitude so that we never have to have a May like this again!<br />
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Sometimes it's really hard to explain to people that don't ride, or that don't ride your horse, how good it feels to feel them moving freely and swinging underneath you. The way YOU know they move when they are feeling good and working correctly. Mare has a fabo walk, big and swinging, we even got an 8 on it in our very first dressage test ever, so I am not messing with that gait at all, besides to make her slightly more adjustable in it. Her trot has gone from "track trot" to much more correct, with the steps being larger and more rythmic, but the last time I rode her before her weeks off, I could feel it was NQR! I could feel a shortness in her hind end and she was trying, but didn't want to accept consistent contact, she was just defensive to my aids. It scared me that she was hurting somewhere, and I almost dreaded getting back on her this week and finding that all the work we had done in the trot was going to be gone. But Voila, Jazz had not forgotten how to use her body, even though she lost a ton of weight so quickly and her topline disappeared faster than a plate of bacon left unattended with Doodle! There was a week or so where she looked absolutely ghastly to me- like a rescue horse. It's amazing how these elegant, athletic and seemingly strong animals are at the same time so incredibly sensitive physically. For about three days, I would pull her out of her stall or the pasture and groom her and she would just hang her head and stand there with a leg propped, accentuating her thinness with a hip bone sticking out. This was NOT my horse, she didn't even take the chance to make mean faces at me while I brushed her, or try nudge me off balance with her nose while I picked her feet, or turn around and stare at me waiting expectantly for a cookie, and she just stood there- still- not something she has ever been guilty of doing. After a year and a half of trying to teach her the command "stand", I wanted my dancing in the crossties, lip-pursing, face making horse back. I spent about three days that week just leaking tears and little prayers for her to feel better and start gaining weight back.<br />
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After talking to a friend about my ride on Saturday, she laughed and said, well it sounds like she far more well behaved WITH ulcers than without. That may be true, but for some well-behaved = boring and there's nothing less fun to me than a boring horse! I love that mare for her personality, even her uncanny ability to find new ways to launch herself into the air. So Sunday's short lesson was such a relief, it felt like the first time I had breathed out in a few weeks. She felt great and I know the fitness and her topline will come back with regular work. As we cooled out, I whispered a "thank you" prayer in the wind and gave her a quick grooming. I painted on her hoof dressing and she knocked me in the back of the head with her nose; I just smiled. She's back.ETRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780907307411261478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5219339306138629272.post-10199048811342994082011-06-04T22:55:00.000-04:002011-06-04T22:55:40.987-04:00my mare behaves much better WITH ulcers clearly she's feeling much better and took her three weeks off to perfect this move:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwVR9DmODy0n1Spb1v0iVolcZOni_LmtN60zy_prnGYwYie-bj_9TLkz27gtY0pp9bQXiVxpHM3YFPtU8W1RDzVbADZkzGolP_260xchaYfmveOdPqBkpZ6F9mtyclZRzVoHHyIwrMLLpG/s1600/Capriole_004.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwVR9DmODy0n1Spb1v0iVolcZOni_LmtN60zy_prnGYwYie-bj_9TLkz27gtY0pp9bQXiVxpHM3YFPtU8W1RDzVbADZkzGolP_260xchaYfmveOdPqBkpZ6F9mtyclZRzVoHHyIwrMLLpG/s640/Capriole_004.jpeg" width="452" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">this, immediately followed by crowhop = Jazz</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> yay?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div>ETRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780907307411261478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5219339306138629272.post-10460637862782394732011-05-25T11:58:00.000-04:002011-05-25T11:58:15.509-04:00monsters under the bed[first of all: diet update- i've lost 6.8 pounds in 9 days, even with the popcorn and one bowl of cereal eaten when jazz was colicking. shes fine now but im treating her for ulcers.]<br />
<br />
<br />
now for the monsters and ultimately, a life lesson...<br />
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yesterday i was making the bed and i spotted this creepy little creature that had a bunch of legs and a split tail- about .5 inches long and like a scary combination of a centipede and a scorpion. i kilt it- ded.<br />
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this morning i was sort of in that half asleep/half awake state because invariably i wake up about 6 minutes before my alarm goes off wondering what time it is and how much longer i can sleep and it was THEN, that i felt something crawling on my arm. i brushed it away and tried to see what it was but it was still kind of dark and i am SO blind without my glasses/contacts. ryan turned the light on and i looked for it, couldn't find it, and decided to change the sheets today. later when i was changing the sheets i found its little carcass- same offender as yesterday- creepy leggy split tailed thing. ewww. after changing the sheets i e-mailed ryan about pest control and he emailed our pest control guy who described the monsters under and in my bed as "silverfish" and said they feed on paper and sometimes fabric. well GREAT. do you know whats under my bed? i keep boxes of old cards and letters and important newspaper and magazine clippings in a big ole Coach purse box under my bed called the 'special box'- i mean, dating all the way back to early high school. all PAPER.<br />
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i immediately began to have a little panic attack about opening the box and visions of tons of those bugs crawling everywhere. i shot off up the stairs armed with OFF (it was all i could find in the way of bug killing weapons), a dust rag and "the cone"- the little handheld vacuum. i tucked the dust ruffle up and began pulling out the various boxes full of memories. the first one i came to was a crane stationary box with all of the proofs of our wedding pics- looked through those and didn't find any bugs. opened the BIG 'special box' and began to dig through all that stuff. tons of memories there- mostly fond ones and some hard to think about. some of those cards and notes seemed like they were simply from a different lifetime. i didn't find any bugs, thank goodness, but man did i begin to remember some things i had totally forgotten about. people that used to be such integral parts of my life, some still are, some i've lost touch with, some i grew apart from, and some i just don't even know anymore at all. its strange to think though, that at one time, they were important enough to me that i kept little notes or relics to remember how our lives were intertwined. sad, in a way, that so many of those little memories are so distant now. but also peaceful, because i love to see how the people that are/were important to me are happy and have great lives with people that they love. i mean, facebook really does have benefits! i felt sort of honored that i got to be a part of their lives too and i hope whatever small part i played in it was a good one.<br />
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the last box i came across was a small shoe box, it originally held the shoes i wore on my wedding day, and inside was every single card or note that we got from the guests at our showers and wedding. so many of them held great advice, or funny sayings, or were just simple expressions of love. i wish i had thought to read these every year on our anniversary or something- the words in those cards were/are important and wise, and i wish i had listened more to what they had to say.<br />
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the monsters under the bed didn't turn out to be monsters at all, but a poignant reminder of what is really important in life, the love of family and friends and memories of those that leave an indelible mark on your heart, one way or another.ETRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780907307411261478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5219339306138629272.post-54573366185333136792011-05-20T11:53:00.000-04:002011-05-20T11:53:58.890-04:00Day 5Woke up feeling much better this morning! Yesterday was sort of a bust. I never gave in to the cereal, but I did eat popcorn at the movies with friends, no butter or anything, but it's def. NOT on the list of approved foods. Sometimes though, I think if you deprive yourself of everything you enjoy, you will just go nuts. So even though i felt guilty for eating it, I now feel even more motivated today to do well and I started off the day with Kefir and green tea. I decided to add two days to the diet to make up for my popcorn trangressions- so now its the 19 day diet!<br />
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I have celery sticks and salmon on stand-by for lunch and oranges for a snack and I'm not sure about dinner yet, but we will see! I'm a little worried about this weekend since I will be at a horse show and staying in a hotel, but I am planning on taking some groceries with me and stocking up the mini fridge and cooler with plenty of choices so I don't end up not eating all day and then destroying my diet at night when we are finished up at the show. I am working the show as the chief XC fence judge and we usually relax after a long day with lots of beer- but I think beer will be easy to resist. I might look a little weird sipping my green tea while everyone else is chugging beers and chatting about which ULR's acted totally pretentious, but it's a small price to pay in exchange for being healthier and thinner!ETRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780907307411261478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5219339306138629272.post-72015051647007036132011-05-19T14:14:00.002-04:002011-05-19T14:18:20.467-04:00Days 3 and 4Day 4- I woke up on the wrong side of the bed I think. I didn't drink the warm water with lemon because the thought of it just seemed disgusting and I was running late for work and sleepy- even though I went to bed at 11:00- which is pretty early for me. When I got to work, I made some green tea and it was good, then I had some yogurt and strawberries- the texture of the yogurt seemed slimy and it bothered me- but I chalked it up to being in a "mood". I've realized that food choices for me are primarily texture based. All I want today is cereal. That box of multi-grain cheerios has never looked so delicious. I decided to distract myself from cereal by pretending to shop on the internet- that worked for a while and I am not giving in to my cereal obsession! I'm not really all that hungry today- just nothing really looks good and I don't want to fall into my old habit of not eating all day because nothing looks good and then at like 4:45pm I am ravenous and dizzy and all of the sudden Zaxby's sounds like the most delicious and convenient choice on the planet! I am breaking habits slowly and forever hopefully- so I am making myself eat little meals but often- I just had some turkey- and it was gross and slimy. Everything is yucky today. <br />
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Day 3- this was a great day. i felt great and drank lots of water. I even found this handy website called eateggs.org that has tons of 17 day diet recipes for all cycles! Last night for dinner I made baked cauliflower with some spicy garlic seasoning and it was super yummy, along with cajun marinated tilapia and then.....<br />
I made ZUCCHINI, which was delicious, and as I ate it, I sat there thinking to myself how yummy and healthy this dinner was, and how zucchini is my favorite food, second only to okra, and sometimes oreos. BUT THEN... I was reading in my book and found out that you can't have zucchini until the 3rd cycle!!! I SO messed up- and I was doing great! The only other slip-up I had was eating a peppermint by accident when Ryan handed it to me. So now I am all worried that the zucchini will have destroyed my two days of only certain carbs progress- and i LOVE zucchini- can I really go without it for 17 whole days? I'm not so sure- but I will try!ETRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780907307411261478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5219339306138629272.post-11602247432768830152011-05-17T15:06:00.000-04:002011-05-17T15:06:10.235-04:00please pardon the 16 day interruptionyesterday i started the "seventeen day diet", which at first i assumed was just another fad diet that will come and go, but then, i started hearing that literally everyone that did it lost a good bit of weight in the first 17 days. so i was interested, however still assuming i would have to exist off of carrot broth and orange peels, or something terrifying like that, but when i talked ryan into buying me the book at barnes and noble the other night, it actually seems really reasonable and workable for my habits and lifestyle. and, i can do anything for 17 days- right?<br />
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the diet has three 17 day cycles, and the first cycle is much more strict about what you can and can't eat than the others, but the overall premise is to shock your metabolism a little bit, and destroy your addictions to sugar and "white, refined" carbs- while increasing your veggie and fruit intake along with lean poultry. this works great for my eating "style" because i love veggies and fruits, and after the first 17 days, i can add some starches back in, but hopefully will have broken my bread addiction. i also cannot handle diets that make you eat tons of meat- it disgusts me to eat meat/eggs every meal, so if i want to just have broccoli and brussels sprouts for dinner- i can. and....i can have as much as i want and i don't have to measure anything or count anything., yee haw for that!<br />
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so it's day two and i am actually feeling really good and energized, and i don't even want to murder anyone yet for a piece of bread, so lets hope this keeps up. the fructose is keeping my blood sugar steady which is great because i am not at all dizzy or headache-y like i was when i did atkins once, and the taste of something sweet really keeps the cravings for sugar at bay. i have had eggs for breakfast for the last two days and am already sick of them, but i can do yogurt and fruit or something tomorrow instead. those dang chickens just keep laying them, and i hate to let them go to waste!<br />
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you drink two glasses of green tea a day on this diet and they suggested truvia as a sweetener so i got some. i have to say i am very impressed by it. i am usually a splenda girl, but the truvia doesnt have the cloying sweetness or the bitter aftertaste that splenda does. yay.<br />
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most people lose about 20 pounds in the first 17 days, which is a lot! my body REALLY holds onto the pounds thanks to my less than healthy relationship with food for part of high school and college, so i am hoping for about a 12 pound loss to jump start myself on the way to my overall goal of losing about 50 pounds. i am hoping to be surprised by the scale, but am not going to be disappointed if its less than 20 pounds, since my body really enjoys disappointing me usually. even though some say a "fad" diet isn't really the best way to go long term, i know myself and my impatience. i need to see some results to have the motivation to stay with it, and 12 pounds would def. motivate me. i am going to check back in often and will weigh myself after the first seven days and report back. <br />
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day 2 overall feeling: excitedETRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780907307411261478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5219339306138629272.post-41512727316917341202011-05-09T10:14:00.000-04:002011-05-09T10:14:46.443-04:00while mom is away- we will play...rolex recap and horse shopping details soon, but on to more pressing matters. i came home from kentucky and it seems like each of the four legged children had a surprise for me. doodle, the big black dog, broke a pottery vase with her <strike>weapon of mass destruction</strike> tail, rylie boo decided not to eat for three days and instead, just throw up on the couch intermittently, hannah, of hannah and montana the goldfish pair, passed away after 2.5 years, and then when i went to ride jazz, she was off in her back end. it looks and feels like her back, although we originally thought stifle. i looked at the video my trainer took, which is here:<br />
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0pezbvSWq2k<br />
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i can see myself riding her much differently, trying to keep her in front of my leg and driving her with my seat- which is not usually a problem we have. she was also "diving" into transitions and not wanting to keep the contact- like she was protecting herself a bit. poor boo boo.<br />
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so we will have the chiroporactor/vet assess. she must have played hard while i was gone! grrr/sigh.<br />
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before i left for kentucky, we were preparing for our first real outing of the season, a beginner novice event with a novice derby round after. i still went to the show this weekend to watch a few rides, and was so bummed that i had to scratch her, because she would have LOVED that course! just her style! most of all, i want her to feel better- so she gets this week off and i will try to find a few other rides so that i don't get even more out of shape!<br />
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in order to start the week off on a good note however, i was reading something online that really hit home and it's going to be my thought for the week. the background is that this person has just gone through a rough time and decided to persue her dreams even when everyone in her life told her "you can't"- which we all know is one of my LEAST favorite phrases. she had this to say about it, and hopefully she won't mind me borrowing her wisdom to remind us all what is really important:<br />
<br />
"Despite this, I am so happy. I have my life back. I have freedom, I have friends, and I've found who I am. I'm positive again, I've abandoned my anger and anxiety, and I'm content. I've figured out what's really important, and it's not things money can buy. It's how we live, the choices we make, the people, places, and animals we surround ourselves with."<br />
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</div>ETRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780907307411261478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5219339306138629272.post-47106320254280104442011-04-27T16:42:00.001-04:002011-04-27T16:44:19.169-04:00the official iteneraryBarring any more catastrophic weather events, (there was already a tornado warning in Lexington today and all the horses had to be evacuated to the indoor arena at KHP) in Lexington or Atlanta, we will be on the road by 10:00am tomorrow. I am admittedly a weather wimp, and when the weather is scary like it has been all day, I spend a lot of time with the dogs in the closet under the stairs in our house- thank goodness for WiFi, or I would have had a very boring few hours lately. The weather this spring has been nothing to joke about though, with deaths all over the US and a reining barn in the Carolina's that lost several horses- I just can't imagine the devastation that I saw in those pictures, so don't make fun of me for my closet dwelling every time the storm sirens go off! <br />
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My friend Mck and I have a very busy few days ahead of us, but for anyone who is staying home this year, we promise to report about the trip and the horse shopping for Mck. We are staying with a dear friend named Shelly, who is in dental school at UK and has graciously allowed us to camp out in her one bedroom apartment in Lexington for the duration of our trip. Her husband, who still lives and works here while she is in school, has a birthday this weekend, and has decided to celebrate it with his own trip to Lexington, so he is coming up on Friday night, accompanied by a stowaway, my husband, who at the last minute decided to come to help him celebrate his birthday, and probably make sure that I don't bring another horse home since we are visiting many OTTB's for sale, which for me, is sort of like releasing all of the Kardashians into a 'free revealing dress' store! Wow, that might be the longest run-on sentence I have ever written! Whew!<br />
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Anyway, I am really glad that Ryan gets to experience Lexington for the first time and maybe he will understand why every year on the way home I call him and say things like, put a "for sale" sign in front of our house because we are moving! Experiencing one bathroom with 5 people for a weekend might be slightly less enjoyable, but I will probably not have a nervous breakdown because there will be enough "horse time" to counteract my fear about sharing bathrooms.<br />
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So here's the plan! <br />
Thursday:<br />
10:00 am- get on the road!<br />
5:00 ish- arrive in Lexington, breathe in the KY air and smile!<br />
evening- two sale horse appointments: Jay and bay mare<br />
dinner eventually<br />
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Friday:<br />
5:30 am- rise and shine!!<br />
6:00 am- leave to watch morning workouts at Keeneland<br />
breakfast at the track kitchen<br />
8:00 am- go see sale horses at the Thoroughbred Training Center<br />
10:00 am- Rolex dressage starts at KHP<br />
1:00 pm- back to Keeneland for closing day of races<br />
afternoon/evening- go see cute mare called "demanding"<br />
COTH get together dinner at the campground! drink wine and meet fun people! <br />
husband arrives in Lexington, and surely falls in love and starts shopping for farms ;)<br />
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Saturday: <br />
possible early morning visit back to training center if we haven't found a horse for McK yet!<br />
XC day at Rolex! hang out at KHP and shop the trade fair!<br />
Jep's birthday dinner and royal wedding watching!!<br />
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Sunday:<br />
more shopping at trade fair at KHP for the good deals!<br />
Stadium jumping day at Rolex!! my favorite! it's funnel cake time today!<br />
two more horse appointments in afternoon if needed!<br />
Home to ATLETRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01780907307411261478noreply@blogger.com1