Yesterday we had a very cool, very windy spring day. I went out to 
the barn in the afternoon thinking I might ride both Cody and Keil Bay, 
but when I got to grooming, realized I probably wouldn't get to the 
riding part. Keil Bay had gotten into something (probably pine sap?) 
that had dried in hard streaks along his back, right in the saddle area.
 There was no brushing it out. It was cool enough and their fur was 
puffy enough, that I decided a bath wasn't going to work. I put the 
kettle on in the feed room to heat up some water so I could spot clean 
him.
Meanwhile I continued grooming and found that his 
slightly swollen sheath was coming from a very badly placed tick that 
had latched on and in fact dug in pretty deep. I got out the tea tree 
sheath cleaner and when I had a big bucket of nice warm water I went to 
work. Keil Bay had by this time moved from the big barnyard over to what
 we call the grass paddock. The wind was whipping, Bear Corgi was 
barking at the Big Bay, and the rest of the herd were crashing around in
 the woods' edge sounding like elephants on the move.
But
 Keil Bay, without lead line or even halter, just stood there so I could
 get that tick removed and get him cleaned up. It took a few minutes to 
get the tick, and the contortions I had to make to actually get my 
fingers on that tick in that very delicate part of his body would not be
 fit to post here even if I had the photo. I said out loud, "Keil, there
 aren't many horses who would stand here and let me do this, and maybe 
none I would trust enough to do it to." A few moments later I got the 
tick, finished cleaning, and then went to make another bucket of clean 
warm water. Keil Bay stood right there in the grass paddock and waited 
for me so I could rinse him off.
By the time I finished
 this I decided to go ahead and groom him completely, then move on to 
Salina and the rest of the herd. The wind was whipping and they were all
 happy to stay in the barnyard - they had chosen to stay there all 
morning while I did barn chores, never venturing through the gates I'd 
left open so they could go to the pasture if they wanted to. I went 
through the entire grooming routine with Keil and decided to go ahead 
and brush his tail out. I don't do this every time, but when I do it, I 
really enjoy it. We walked together around the grass paddock, grazing 
and brushing.
And suddenly as I got to the middle of his 
tail and brushed out that last coiled piece I found it: one long pure 
silver corkscrew curl hair. I couldn't believe it. I have one of those 
myself, on the right side of my head, near my right ear. I found mine 
awhile back and named it my wild senior hair, making it something 
special, a sort of private metaphor for age and experience with a 
young-in-spirit crazy streak to boot.
Keil Bay has one 
too! I wasn't surprised, as he and I share a lot of chiropractic 
outages, we have the same homeopathic constitutional, etc. Now we both 
had secret wild hairs. Perfect.
I went on to groom Salina.
 She came and stood by the barn doors on the big barnyard side so she 
could keep her eye on everything the herd did. She planted herself there
 and rested easily - they couldn't leave the area unless they walked 
right by her. Salina had no ticks but an old bite that itched a bit, so I
 rubbed if for her. I decided to brush out her tail too. Lo and behold, 
in the middle of her black tail, there was a long, silver corkscrew 
hair. Now we have a Secret Society of Seniors on November Hill!
I laughed and said this to Salina. She didn't seem to be amused, at least not as much as I was about this revelation.
Later
 on I had finished grooming and decided to take a break. I made a mug of
 blackberry tea and dragged a chair to the barnyard. I started reading 
Jane Savoie's book version of her Happy Horse course and was thinking 
about what I might do with Cody next ride. I was juggling the mug, a 
pencil, a notebook, and Jane's book, and was soon joined by Rafer 
Johnson, who gazed at my tea and then at me, bringing his sweet donkey 
eye closer and closer to mine as if he were trying hard to tell me 
something. Well, of course he was - he wanted that tea!
Really,
 all he wanted was to smell it, so when it cooled enough that no one 
would get burned if it spilled, I let him have a long, deep whiff. 
Redford came over and tried to intervene but was quickly told to leave 
by Rafer. Salina came over, and to my surprise, she walked around behind
 me and hung her head over my left shoulder, just touching me with her 
muzzle, and stayed there. I let her have a nice whiff of the tea and 
then resumed my reading. Rafer's kind eye on my right, Salina's empty 
eye on my left (which meant her good eye was to the outside, so she 
could keep it open to anything that might happen along), and the rest of
 the herd were in front of us, eating hay and glancing over 
periodically.
The temperature had started to drop (we actually got down to 
freezing last night) and suddenly I had a glimpse into the future. 
Sometimes I wonder what it will be like when I'm older with all these 
equines, and I wonder what the days will be like without my daughter 
helping with chores. I didn't get to everything I wanted to do 
yesterday, but once I let go of trying to do it all, I had a wonderful 
time doing the things I managed to get done. And sitting with a cup of 
tea and a happy herd was something I did more as a whim than a need - 
but one day I'll need to take those breaks and I was very happy to 
realize that the breaks could be as good as - or better than - the sense
 of accomplishment when everything gets checked off my list, and even 
better than a good ride.
I thought about long days at the barn and brushing out tails and 
wondered if a painted pony with a white tail gets a silver senior 
corkscrew hair or not. How about a chestnut QH? And the donkeys? Will 
they get them too?
At some point my secret senior society will get new members, and 
although Salina might not be with us when that happens, I'll always 
remember the day I sat and we traveled ahead in time together, Salina at
 my left shoulder, Rafer Johnson at the other, reading about happy 
horses learning dressage, enjoying the aroma of blackberry tea, all the 
herd in our sight line, all safe, all happy. 
Together.
 
 
 
8 comments:
Lovely imagery and writing!
That's a great post! I have some catching up to do (computer was gone), and turned to your blog and your header photo jumped out at me. And then your post, I love that synchronicity between you and Keil Bay, that image of you with Salina and the donks, and what you say about the richness of those breaks. I have a half-formed post about taking things slowly, or slower than my western mind thinks is right and what you say about breaks expresses it very well.
This post brought tears to my eyes - in a good way. ;)
I love, love, love that you elders share wild hairs!
Thank you for the encouraging comments and thoughtful suggestions you left today. Much appreciated. :)
Love this post. The images and thoughts are lovely. Thank you from one 'slightly' gray haired senior.
Thank you, Matthew!
Maire, glad you're back in cyberspace and I am looking forward to reading your thoughts on breaks!
C, thanks and you are most welcome! You are brave and good to post videos for comments!
A, thank you. It occurred to me that anyone reading my post might assume that I have only the one silver hair. Which is not the case. There are many silvery ones - but only one corkscrew one! :)
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