I got to go for a ride this weekend, two actually. My husband watched Elly and gave me time to ride. It was so nice to be out of the house, the days were beautiful. Those crisp fall days with the wind whistling through the corn stalks. Enough bite to the air to make the horse shy at every rustling leaf. Coyote felt good and once I began to regain my seat after such a long hiatus I enjoyed his spookiness immensely. I would have liked a nice run but that might have pushed my recently sliced open stomach a little to far. I would hate to have my guts spill out onto my saddle.
My favorite fall story is The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. I always envision the headless horseman on a fiery Morgan. What a sight that would have been, galloping through the beautiful trees with their fallen leaves churning up under pounding hooves. Add pumpkins to the picture and all my favorite things are covered. So for an hour we pretended to be my favorite literary character. Of course we stirred Corn leaves not oak leaves.We could use more trees around here. I miss the fall colors.
Elly is lucky she was a girl or she might have been named Ichabod
This one is even the same color as Coyote. I see some other similarities as well, the evil eye and good temperment.
October is here! I love fall and now it’s officially late enough that I can start playing with my pumpkins!
I have a bit of a thing for pumpkins. We planted a nice little patch again this year. It may have gone just a bit overboard. There are so many different varieties how could I pick just one or two or three or four, oh dear. I think I stopped at seven. But really once that includes an acorn squash and spaghetti squash that really limits the pumpkin varieties. I planted big ones and little ones. Orange ones and grey ones. Flat ones and round ones. There are so many out there it’s hard to decide, next year I will just have to plant a few more. This year we didn’t do enough.
Now for my favorite part. I get to haul them to the house and arrange them just so. Add a few corn stalks and mums. Then sit back and look at all the pretty pumpkins. Some thing is lacking though.
There’s nothing to carve.
Next year I really will have to plant just one plain old field pumpkin.
She is obviously brilliant not even officially born yet, they start counting development from due date not date of birth on preemies, and she’s playing with her toys. I know, I know some thing only a mother is fascinated with.
I read that they should have supervised time on their stomachs to build muscle and something so I laid a blanket down and put her down on her stomach. She buried her face straight down into the floor, obviously considering breathing to be unnecessary. Once we had that fixed, temporarily she kept trying to do it again, she started kicking and pushing with her legs. I put my hand behind them and she crawled (scooted on her face) right across the blanket.
All in all she is a happy baby, always giggling. Call it gas if you will I think she smiles all the time. She talks more then I thought babies did. Every thing gets commented on, whether a grunt or a squeal. Food is especially exciting. Lots of grunting and growling. She is a very bitey child. Nothing that gets near her mouth is safe when she senses that food is near. With a deep throated growl and a snap of the gums she will take a chunk out of the burp cloth or any finger that ventures to close.
She wiggles and squirms, bunching into a tiny ball I could almost envision still fitting in my stomach. Then flinging her arms out she stretches reaching for the sky and I know what was going on in my stomach.
From the beginning it has been clear who was her favorite. Here I spend all my time feeding and caring for her, searching Craigs list for ponies for her, and she likes her dad best. Isn’t that just how it always goes.
He keeps saying that she won’t want a toy tractor or that she won’t like the clothes with cars or other such boy things on them cause “she’s a girl”.
Shows what he knows. She is going to grow up knowing that she can do anything a boy can do, and do it better if she tries. She will go out with daddy in the combine. She will watch over his shoulder and learn all about computers. She will go with him and have the chance to learn about every thing he does.
Don’t get me wrong she will come with me too. We will ride horses and work cows. We might even do some girly things like cook, cleaning would be taking it to far. She can be a pretty, girly sort of tomboy.
A manual for the modern humane care and up keep of children.
I should write a book.
I have noticed in the reading of my favorite blogs ( no I do not have an addiction ) that there is a type of horse person, one of whom I used to be, that is strongly adverse to children. I know that there is the other type to who have and/or love children but this type stands out more to me. Horses fill their lives and the thought of a kid to be bothered by is not appealing. The hostility toward children can be a little startling.
I think they just need to look at this from a new perspective. Hence natural babymanship. I have been beat to it though there is already a Parelli of babies. He gives clinics and sells videos along with other brand name must have items. I couldn’t believe it my idea had been stolen. Just like horse clinics he featured REAL CRYING BABIES and showed in real life how he could fix their problems in minuets.
Oh well I shall have to make my fortune elsewhere.
Elly is doing good at home. She eats like a horse. Every two hours day and night. It’s OK I don’t need to sleep. We are carefully exposing her to classical music and lots of Wylie and the wild west! Mostly Wylie. She is learning all sorts of new skills she can stick her tongue out and follow your finger with her eyes, she’s going to be brilliant!
One thing that Tellington-Jones doesn’t mention in her books is the importance of symmetry in a horses swirls. Not so much that the one, or two, swirls in the middle of the forehead be exactly placed, but that those on the rest of the body match from side to side. I have found mismatched markings to be a sign of imbalance.
I worked with an Arab years ago on whom the fans at his flanks were completely uneven. On his right side the marking went nearly to his spine, the other side was no taller then my hand. This otherwise beautiful chestnut, I think his name was Wing Nut, was so one sided as to be nearly unrideable.
The same goes for the swirls on the chest. They should be of the same basic height and length.
Facial swirls that are off set can be of significance also. A recently gelded Morgan came in one time with a single whorl high and to the right as you faced him. It sat clear up and above his left eye. Usually a high swirl will mean a quieter horse but this horse had been insane as a stud and still crazy as a gelding. The Parelli’s have a theory on horsenality, that horses are right or left brained, like people right or left handed. Right brained equals reactive while left brain is a thinker. I believe that the direction a swirl is off set on the fore head shows if a horse is right or left brained.
Are you with me still? Not sure I am. I believe the this poor former stud was so right brained, extrovert to be exact, shown by the mark waaay to the right as we look at him that he just couldn’t handle normal confined life, especially training. Maybe if some very knowledgeable person owned him and had years, since birth preferably, to work with him very slowly he might have made a riding horse. With thirty days to work with him there was no way he was going to be started hardly.
Now my little Nevil is the opposite. His swirl is set slightly to the left, as you face him, and slightly high just above eye level. He is definitely left brained. Left brained extrovert I would say. He thinks hard about every thing, very curios, loves to play.