Hope everyone had a wonderful holiday season. We had lots of family time, and I managed a bunch of time with the horse. New Year’s day was cold, but wonderfully bright and sunny, with no wind. Perfect for a ride.
View from the saddle
Archive for Life in the country
View from our mailbox
I was getting the photos off of the camera recently and saw this one. I remember taking it earlier this summer, and thought I was unable to capture the double rainbow. It was a pleasant surprise to see that I had. We had a couple of weeks of storms, and almost every rainbow we saw was a double, or, as Bean calls them “A two-fer Mom!”
Rest in Peace, sweet Sunny
The therapeutic riding program I am involved with lost their (our!) pony yesterday. She was a once in a lifetime pony. Sunny was donated to the program by a lovely family who had purchased her for their children. The children lost interest, and the parents realized that she needed a job, and contacted us. Somebody put a lot of time and effort into this little one, she rode, drove, trailered like a champ, and was overall just a jem. Her personality was large, it was as if nobody told her she was barely 13 hands. She ran the herd, keeping all the others in line. We took her to the county fair one year to show in the cart classes. She was fascinated with the Clydesdales and other big draft horses, we could tell she saw herself as one of them. She was always so perfect for the little children who rode her in the program. One little boy started at 3 years old, he had very poor muscle tone in his torso, and could hardly sit up. Sunny knew when he began to fatigue, and would slow right down for him. She also had an uncanny ability to tell when 30 minutes had passed – when the lesson was over, she would try and stop at the gate every.single.time. She was smart that one.
I know we did the right thing by her, she had two diseases going on, and while either one had a chance of being managed had it been the only problem, the medication for one exacerbated the other, and vice versa. I am sad for her riders, past who love her so, present she was providing with such joy, and future who never got to experience the cute little bounce from her trot, or the immediate nuzzle she would give her rider when they dismounted. Selfishly, I am sad for myself. I had grand hopes that Sunny would be the one to teach Bean how to properly kick on past a gate. I had also hoped that when it came time for her to retire, I could take her and provide a grand retirement, as she deserved. I guess it just was not meant to be. You are sorely missed, sweet, sweet Sunny-Pony.
Fishing
Bean has been really into fishing as of late. I mostly blame it on Curious George (which we have been reading every.single.night since Christmas – argh!). She has a really long stick that we sit with on the dock and put down in the water – that is our pretend fishing. Our pond is really clear this year, and we can see the fish actually come up to the end of her stick to check it out. My dad loves to fish, everytime they come to visit he brings his gear and spends some time out next to our tiny little pond. Catch and release, of course. He usually will get one a day, it is as if the one that he manages to catch goes back and tells all the others to lay low.
Bean, AKA she with the memory of an elephant, remembered that Pop-Pop fishes for real in the pond (it has been frozen for their last few visits) and wanted to fish with him. So, he brough up the cane poles that my brother and I used as kids, and a-fishing they went. He brought live worms and fake, as Grandma was worried she would not be keen on the live ones. She was interested, and certianly not volunteering to put them on the hook, but there was no squeamishness. She did really well, Pop-Pop helped her cast the line out, and she patiently sat there. Over the course of two hours she caught 2 fish. I could not believe that a) she sat there for 2 hours, or b) she managed to catch two fish in one day! I think my dad was beside himself with glee.
We had a really nice, warm weekend. The visit was good, and the weather was perfect! My daffodils are all coming up (even through all the dead weeds I need to get cleaned up). I am so glad that spring is finally here. I was beginning to think it would never come. I am also pretty exicted, we have a pair of wood ducks hanging around. It would be awesome if they set up their home on our property. I figure we can keep the racoons full on cat food, and maybe they will leave their eggs alone.
Work at home?
Why yes, I did. And I managed to get two documents re-written to reflect some upgrades we made here in the lab. Bean was great. I was pleasantly suprised, and think that I could get used to working from home more. I admit that I kind of envisioned me up at midnight, clicking away on my laptop, getting done what I had promised I would. It worked out really well, in the end. And it will be helpful if I need to do it again sometime in the future. Er, when I need to do it again. With the Bean on a regular school schedule, we are going to have to get creative about the summer months. Wouldn’t it just be a bummer if I had to work from home a day or two a week? I mean, all her good behavior while I was working was rewarded by a nice walk outside in the afternoon. It would just be awful if I had to take an hour or two out of my summer days to spend with the daughter. Just awful.
Our Turkeys
We have a flock of turkeys that travel back and forth through our land a couple of times a day. They are hilarious birds. They make an absolute racket if they think they are alone. They can be way back by the creek and you can be in the house and hear them just a cackling and gobbling away back there. If they hear you though, the all go silent. It is as if they think they really are being sneaky. You know, we cannot hear them breaking twigs and rusting leaves. And also, you know they are like 3 feet tall, so we cannot see them either, of course. Just for giggles sometimes I open one of the sliders and yell “Hellooooooooo Turkeys!”
H was home the other day, classes are in session where he works, so he gets one weekend day off and one day during the week. He heard them and got some great photos of our not so little feathered friends.
This first one was through the slider in our bedroom:
They just kept coming up the yard. We have occasionally seen them around the pond, but it is very unusual that they come up past the edge of the driveway (you can see it in the bottom left corner of the above photo). He could not believe how close they were coming. He went downstairs to the basement – and got this shot through the door down there.
Then they saw, or heard him and went waddling as fast as they could back to the woods.
H was not sure were the Toms were, there is usually 2 or 3 males with all the females. It would have been neat to get a close photo of one of them.
Equine Napoleon
A new horse started boarding at the stable where I keep my guy. I know this horse, he is retired from the therapeutic riding program I am involved with. He is a super guy, and had I not already had my horse when he came to the program, I most likely would have taken him up as ‘my own’, riding and keeping him in shape. He is what I always thought of as my kind of horse. Big warmblood, wonderful floaty gaits, etc. My horse, on the other hand, is a shortish Arab cross. If someone had told me when I was a teenager that I would not only own, but love and worship a 15.2-on-a-tall-day, Arab/Saddlebred cross who occasionally misplaces his brain, I would have laughed them right out of the arena. Rambling off, back to the story….
My guy is low man on the totem pole. His place in the herd is right above my friends yearling. Which is interesting, considering that his bestest buddy is an alpha mare. Apparently he is absolutely not, under ANY circumstances, going to let this new big guy take his prized spot in the herd. He is carrying on like a nincompoop, cornering the new guy, rearing, striking, biting and basically being as ass. Especially considering that the new horse is all ‘eh, whatever shorty’, and ‘didn’t I tell you that I am not particularly impressed by your behavior’, and I think I even heard him say ‘I don’t CARE about where I stand in the herd already!’ Fortunately nobody has gotten hurt, and I know once this is all over I will be laughing about it, but for now I wish he would just knock it off. It is new territory for me, as his demeanor is pretty easy-going for the most part (see low man in the herd status), and seeing him like this is strange. I do not know too much about his history, other than he had been starved (twice!) when he was young, the second time was because he had a moron for an owner who had him out with a bunch of mares who would not let him eat. I recently learned that he was gelded late, and that might help explain why some of the mares just love him. So, I have a horse with a Napoleon Complex. Who knew that could happen?
Look both ways before you cross the street
In my entire 16 years of driving experience, I have hit very few creatures. The first incident remains burned in my memory. It was late, late, late. I was driving home after a rousing night hanging out at a dunkin doughnuts. I was on RT46, maybe 3 miles from home, driving Herbert, my little tan ford escort when a big white cat came out of nowhere. It was quick for the cat, at least it seemed that way. I screamed like only a teenage girl knows how, pulled a u-ey and went back to make sure he was not suffering. He was not. The headlights from good old HB made his retinas glow. I could not get out of the car, and I could not stop crying.
There have been some bird causalities, mostly barn swallows with their irregular flight patterns, they are so difficult to avoid. One goldfinch. I go out of my way to avoid all the frogs that party hardy on one of the roads near my house after a hard rain. I am sure I have hit a few, but I make every effort to avoid them. I tear up every time, and say a little prayer for each one, every time. Apologizing for being human, and cars, and for taking their life from them.
I always take solace in the fact that those little critters most likely never knew what hit them. There was no suffering.
Within the past 12 months I have hit 2 deer. The first one, I was going so slow, coming up over a knoll and getting ready to make a right hand turn. Dark winter night on my way to the barn. I just barely bumped her. She did not even fall down, just kept going. I got out, the license plate frame was cracked. She ran off into a field across the road and stood there. Not know what in the world to do, I watched her for a few minutes and figured she would be fine. Went on my way, had a crappy ride due to insanely high adrenaline levels and worry. On my way back, she was still around, but had moved a bit. That should have been my red flag. It was not. The next morning, she was dead in the field. She had suffered, and that is inexcusable. I watched every day as she decomposed, the crows and turkey vultures came and did what they do best. Then the snow came, and this spring there was nothing left to remind me. Except my sorrow the guilt, and my new “custom” license plate.
Fast forward to this past Monday night. Heading up another knoll, again off to ride the horse. Again, dark, again cold, but raining this time. She was moving fast, and appeared from the shadows beyond the reach of my headlights. I knocked her down, and she skidded through the cone of light, off to the left, landing in the culvert. A car came by, startled her, and she went off through the hedgerow. Not making the same mistake twice, someone needed to come and put her out of her misery, and soon. Local cop came, and was very, very kind to me. I knew him from a presentation I recently gave, and have never been so glad to live in a rural town where people know each other. He took down my information, and kindly let me leave before he did what needed to be done. Maybe 20 minutes of suffering. Still awful, but her ultimate end was quick.
Immediately after the incident occurred, an odd bird of a man came up to the car to ask if I had hit a deer. He was a chatty sort, and I ended up knowing WAY more about him than I should, given we only spent 20 minutes talking. Turns out, as hunting season starts tomorrow, he was walking through the field to see where the deer were hanging out. He most likely startled her, which sent her running afraid right in front of my SUV. Part of me feels like I should be mad at him. The other part of me says it is not worth it, being angry will not change what happened to the doe. He was kind of dumb, missing teeth so he spit a little when he spoke, and seemed happy to have a captive audience in me. He desperately wanted the deer. I gave it to him. Hope the turkey vultures and crows don’t mind.
I went up to see the horse, and this time did not ride. Ground work can be a fun break, and since it is not as natural to me as riding, it required 100% of my concentration, no residual anxiety feeding into him.
That is why being responsible for the death of other creatures is not good for my soul. My horse, on the other hand, is.
