"You can't let them win these little battles."

I was in a situation this week where I was asked to help out with a horse that wasn't doing what it was being asked to do. The request was reasonable and being made in a calm way. The interesting thing to me was that the instant the horse didn't comply, the time factor kicked in, and the stakes were raised. The situation escalated. My only contribution to the situation was to suggest that the request be made in a different way. One the horse might accept more easily.

It worked. I felt good seeing what I considered a success. The horseowner's response was this:

"You can't let them win these little battles."

This jolted when I heard it, even though I suspect I've said the same thing myself in the past. But hearing it this week I realized I no longer see my encounters with my horses as a series of battles I must make sure to win. Rather, I see my encounters with my horses as opportunities to have a conversation, to make a connection, and to find places where both I and the horse can be calm and happy.

It's interesting to encounter other people and their horses. It teaches us a lot about ourselves.

busy day ahead

Last night we had a band of storms roll through, along with some high winds and a tornado watch, so I asked my husband to close the barn up when he went out at nine. It wasn't so bad when he went out, but an hour later, and on past midnight, the wind was roaring and we lost power.

The kids and I stayed up until it came back on. I called it in a bit after midnight, and within a very short time, the power truck was making its way down our lane, checking every power line with big powerful flashlights. Then they drove back up the road and in 15 minutes or so, the lights came back on.

I'm impressed - we belong to a fairly small electrical co-op, and they are incredibly responsive to calls and repairs. We've had the same experience with our high speed internet, ingeniously relayed house to house by antenna via a small local software company. Calling either of these companies when something goes wrong is so much better than getting stuck in Progress Energy or Time Warner's nightmarish labyrinthine computerized telephone systems.

Today we have sunshine and no trees down. I'm sure the stalls are a mess since the horses did not have their usual freedom to go in and out.

It happens to be chiropractor day, and although we usually get two horses done each month, today it's three because Keil Bay was such a mess last time he needs rechecking sooner than 8 weeks. So that's three horses who I am quite positive have gone out this morning and rolled in the mud who will have to be cleaned up before 9:45. I'm determined to finish my latte before heading out.

Later, my daughter has her lesson on the older, BTDT Arab-Welsh pony she's using for Pony Club clinics while she retrains her own little man. (whose response to her riding/jumping another pony was to persistently try to jump the one vertical we had set up in the arena during her lesson on him last Friday - at the end of the lesson they finally let him and he was HAPPY as he jumped it, which is a victory)

I've got to get rolling here!

playing with toys

I've been under the weather for the past few days, and am still not feeling all that well. I'm weary of lying in bed or on the sofa, tired of movies, and even reading is becoming an effort. But I can't get outside to do the things I want to be doing, so I'm sitting here in the garret feeling a bit like a sick child who is bored and getting grumpier by the moment.

When my children were sick, it was time for a new toy.

We adults often forget about toys. I'm not really talking about toys like Iphones or expensive gadgets. I mean real toys: modeling clay and Tinker toys, a dollhouse, an Etch-A-Sketch.

A few of my toys I can see from right here in my chair: a little horse ready to mine for gold, a light-up tiara, two magic wands made for me by my son, a Corgi miniature made by my daughter, a whimsical Dachshund business card holder, a tiny red wagon carrying a couple of paper stars. I tried to take photos but they came out as out of focus as I feel, so I'm sparing you the blurry edges of this flu.

I think I'm declaring tomorrow official new toy day. I'm going to stop by the toy store on my way home from the office and pick out something new to play with.

reading pile

I've been saying I was going to list the books in my reading pile, and since I came up to the garret to get another book to read (I just finished Charles Baxter's The Feast of Love), it's a good time to do so.

Right now I'm looking at:

Wayne Caldwell's Cataloochee

Leif Enger's Peace Like A River

Peter Hoeg's Smilla's Sense of Snow

Sandra Kring's The Book of Bright Ideas

Sara Gran's Come Closer

Chris Bohjalian's The Double Bind

Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Mineral

Angela Davis-Gardner's Forms of Shelter


That's just one of the piles, and some of the titles are angled so I can't see them, so that's not quite all of the ones in this particular batch.

I'm picking Smilla's Sense of Snow for the next read. It's what called to me as I scanned the stack.

In spite of all these books waiting, I'm interested in recommendations - so be sure to tell me what needs to come live in my pile!

the between-places

For every one of us there are moments of revelation at the nexus point where opposites meet: dark and light, joy and sorrow, knowing and singing. In these days of growing light, when spring is still far ahead and the grip of winter is ever present, the opportunity to sample the opposites and stand at their still center is potent. These experiences do not have to be sought after; they arrive, magically blending elements together to seek us out... thresholds of awakening where the soul is alert and watchful for omens of change, auguries of joy, promises of belonging.

-Caitlin Matthews, The Celtic Spirit