Late Sunday evening my husband announced he didn't have to go to work yesterday because of President's Day, so when I woke up and he was here, it felt like another chunk of weekend had been grafted onto our week.
Even going into my office last night didn't do much to shift that notion. It feels like Monday today!
First off I have to apologize to yet another reader/commenter, jme. I am suddenly getting many spam comments for both this blog and mystic-lit, and when I moderate, for the first time ever, I am hitting "reject" regularly.
And then my dyslexic thing kicks in, and I reject a string of spam comments, read a wonderful one, and as my brain thinks "publish" my finger hits "reject."
There is no way to get those back!
I'm not sure where the spam is coming from. There are many Chinese ones, and then lots of fake "normal" ones that are anonymous and sort of sound like maybe they're genuine. But their very blandness gives them away.
I guess if I employed the word verification system I might make life easier for myself but I wanted commenting here to be effortless. If it gets to be too much, and I keep making mistakes in my moderating role, I'll add it in.
On another note, I realized I'd left out a sure sign of spring here on November Hill. Our beloved hay man is now out of his gorgeous, non-sprayed, organically grown hay. This affects us on a number of levels. His hay is easy to balance minerally. It's reasonably priced so we can throw hay to horses with wild abandon and not stress the bit of wastage we get from using the big round bales.
We get eggs and some meat and vegetables from our hay man, so when we're no longer going out there for hay, it puts a snag in grocery shopping. I've realized I don't want the store eggs any more. They look... fake. Fortunately this weekend the kids had a party to go to out near the hay man's farm, so we got our stash of beautiful eggs.
Meanwhile, I bought one small batch of timothy hay from the feed store last week. The horses have been scarfing it up - the one up side of having to change hay right now is that they are already craving something green, and a new hay seems to satisfy that a bit. But the feed store hay is not cheap, and while we could go get small loads each week and enjoy ease of transport and loading, it's a big hit to the budget.
We bought a slightly bigger load of timothy from our secondary hay supplier. Normally her prices are just slightly cheaper than the feed store but this year it's the same. But alas, this morning my husband informed me these bales are wrapped in wire, which I really don't like.
Fortunately, awhile back, I came upon a new hay source and although we didn't need it at the time, I wrote the info on a scrap of paper and tucked it away. Of course I forgot about it. But on Sunday I was cleaning off my desk for no real reason and there was the hay info. I called and the hay sounds like a nice mix of timothy and orchard, and it's significantly less expensive, so we can transition onto that as we use up this timothy.
billie hinton’s camera-obscura:
life and lessons on November Hill Farm
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Monday, February 15, 2010
kudos to astrid appels and her eurodressage editorial on the FEI's recent announcement
Go to EURODRESSAGE to read the entire editorial, which ends with the following paragraph:
9th February 2010 - Redefinition
More than 40,000 people signed a petition against rollkur which was presented by Dr. Gerd Heuschmann to FEI president Princess Haya. This voice of a majority, no matter if they are experts or amateurs, should be seen in the big picture: as an outcry against abuse in the warm up ring no matter what training system. The huge amount of signatures reflects that the global image of the sport appears to be a bad one, in spite of the positive publicity a Totilas brings.
-- Astrid Appels
9th February 2010 - Redefinition
More than 40,000 people signed a petition against rollkur which was presented by Dr. Gerd Heuschmann to FEI president Princess Haya. This voice of a majority, no matter if they are experts or amateurs, should be seen in the big picture: as an outcry against abuse in the warm up ring no matter what training system. The huge amount of signatures reflects that the global image of the sport appears to be a bad one, in spite of the positive publicity a Totilas brings.
-- Astrid Appels
my almost desperate desire for spring
I'm generally a fall and winter person - I love autumn best, but the landscape of winter, with the bare trees and branches against a winter gray sky and the muted colors is also very appealing to me.
Most of the time spring is a bit too "busy" - everything coming to life again, color bursting into full hue, and the noises of insects and frogs - it all combines into one big buzz for me. Overstimulating.
This year though I am craving springtime. When I look out at the yard, the barnyard, the paddocks, the fields, all I want to do is head out there with the mower and the harrow, mulching the leaves into tiny pieces, dragging the manure out, and cleaning everything up. Problem is, between the cold and the rain/snow, it's either frozen or mush, and so everything sits out there looking forlorn and ugly.
I want to cut everything back: the trumpet vine on the front porch (have done that), the butterfly bushes, the small trees that have grown into beds. I want to go along the edge of the woods and push it back to where it's supposed to be before trees and shrubs leaf out and make the job more difficult.
I want to widen the labyrinth path and clear the underbrush and fix fencing.
I look at the barn and see the need for repair and sprucing up. I look at the deck and all I can think of is power washing. I'm thinking of things like white wash and resurfacing stall floors and ordering loads of crushed stone.
The urge to put things into order is huge.
At the feed store I found myself gazing lovingly at composters that turn and roll. Elsewhere I was looking at seed starting kits and thinking of raised beds in the back yard.
I don't know when spring will arrive, but there's a very good and reliable sign. Salina is shedding. She always sheds first each year, and once I see the sprinkling of loose hairs on her back, I know we're at least on the other side of the hump of winter.
The bulbs in the beds are also out, so I'm taking that as the first uprising of green that will hopefully lead the way for everything else.
When the redbuds bloom and the carpenter bees start buzzing, I think it will be safe to say it: spring is here.
Most of the time spring is a bit too "busy" - everything coming to life again, color bursting into full hue, and the noises of insects and frogs - it all combines into one big buzz for me. Overstimulating.
This year though I am craving springtime. When I look out at the yard, the barnyard, the paddocks, the fields, all I want to do is head out there with the mower and the harrow, mulching the leaves into tiny pieces, dragging the manure out, and cleaning everything up. Problem is, between the cold and the rain/snow, it's either frozen or mush, and so everything sits out there looking forlorn and ugly.
I want to cut everything back: the trumpet vine on the front porch (have done that), the butterfly bushes, the small trees that have grown into beds. I want to go along the edge of the woods and push it back to where it's supposed to be before trees and shrubs leaf out and make the job more difficult.
I want to widen the labyrinth path and clear the underbrush and fix fencing.
I look at the barn and see the need for repair and sprucing up. I look at the deck and all I can think of is power washing. I'm thinking of things like white wash and resurfacing stall floors and ordering loads of crushed stone.
The urge to put things into order is huge.
At the feed store I found myself gazing lovingly at composters that turn and roll. Elsewhere I was looking at seed starting kits and thinking of raised beds in the back yard.
I don't know when spring will arrive, but there's a very good and reliable sign. Salina is shedding. She always sheds first each year, and once I see the sprinkling of loose hairs on her back, I know we're at least on the other side of the hump of winter.
The bulbs in the beds are also out, so I'm taking that as the first uprising of green that will hopefully lead the way for everything else.
When the redbuds bloom and the carpenter bees start buzzing, I think it will be safe to say it: spring is here.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
writing group update
This weekend is the February writing group meeting, which reminds me, we probably need to give it a name, just for fun.
We are small but fiercely determined to make 2010 one of the best writing years in our lives.
The snowfall on Friday night melted away quickly on Saturday morning and it became obvious travel would be fine, so D. headed out from her place and we decided when she arrived to pack up our notebooks and laptops and head to the local coffee house to do the business part of our meeting.
We agreed when we formed that we'd use the group to set goals for ourselves, and to discuss all the issues that are coming up for writers in this age of digital media. The Kindle, the Nook, and the iPad all make it possible to publish independently and quickly, and while many people are viewing that as a decline to come in the overall quality of novels, we're choosing to view it as an opportunity for new and unique voices.
There's been so much to talk about these last few months, but it is satisfying to have a place to sit and not just gab, but write things down with intention to get them done before we sit together again.
It's even better when you're doing it in the embrace of a mini-retreat. D. comes bearing Mediterranean food and wine in fun print cloth bags that make you smile just seeing them. She arrived this weekend sporting a new haircut, and jewel-colored clothing, and when we agreed to drive to the coffee house, I threw on my brown boots and my black poncho/cape and it felt like we were heading to a party.
A productive party. I had an entire page of notes by the end of it, as did she. We had scheduled our next meeting, discussed a longer writing retreat later in the year, and inked in full slates for ourselves for the next month.
Back at November Hill, we laid out all the food for dinner and took a break from book business. Around 8:30, we met in the garret to read pages out loud. D. read from a new project she's writing, and I continued where I left off last month in my pony book.
The garret is now my sandplay office, and because I've done a lot of writing and a lot of reading out loud in the company of my sand trays and collection, it feels perfectly right to be doing it again. One of my favorite things in the world is reading my pages out loud to other writers who take it seriously and offer constructive feedback.
Which is yet another reason for this group: to celebrate the joy of writing, reading, and just being in the company of other writers. It rejuvenates the writing soul.
Today we made breakfast, took it back to our respective rooms, and are working for another chunk of time before reading out loud again, once more before D. heads back to her house and a jazz concert.
D. has started a wonderful new blog that chronicles her take on writing this year. I'm stepping into her fold, and I invite you to join us!
We are small but fiercely determined to make 2010 one of the best writing years in our lives.
The snowfall on Friday night melted away quickly on Saturday morning and it became obvious travel would be fine, so D. headed out from her place and we decided when she arrived to pack up our notebooks and laptops and head to the local coffee house to do the business part of our meeting.
We agreed when we formed that we'd use the group to set goals for ourselves, and to discuss all the issues that are coming up for writers in this age of digital media. The Kindle, the Nook, and the iPad all make it possible to publish independently and quickly, and while many people are viewing that as a decline to come in the overall quality of novels, we're choosing to view it as an opportunity for new and unique voices.
There's been so much to talk about these last few months, but it is satisfying to have a place to sit and not just gab, but write things down with intention to get them done before we sit together again.
It's even better when you're doing it in the embrace of a mini-retreat. D. comes bearing Mediterranean food and wine in fun print cloth bags that make you smile just seeing them. She arrived this weekend sporting a new haircut, and jewel-colored clothing, and when we agreed to drive to the coffee house, I threw on my brown boots and my black poncho/cape and it felt like we were heading to a party.
A productive party. I had an entire page of notes by the end of it, as did she. We had scheduled our next meeting, discussed a longer writing retreat later in the year, and inked in full slates for ourselves for the next month.
Back at November Hill, we laid out all the food for dinner and took a break from book business. Around 8:30, we met in the garret to read pages out loud. D. read from a new project she's writing, and I continued where I left off last month in my pony book.
The garret is now my sandplay office, and because I've done a lot of writing and a lot of reading out loud in the company of my sand trays and collection, it feels perfectly right to be doing it again. One of my favorite things in the world is reading my pages out loud to other writers who take it seriously and offer constructive feedback.
Which is yet another reason for this group: to celebrate the joy of writing, reading, and just being in the company of other writers. It rejuvenates the writing soul.
Today we made breakfast, took it back to our respective rooms, and are working for another chunk of time before reading out loud again, once more before D. heads back to her house and a jazz concert.
D. has started a wonderful new blog that chronicles her take on writing this year. I'm stepping into her fold, and I invite you to join us!
Thursday, February 11, 2010
lest we think the FEI is not listening or reading...
I just received this comment:
I'm Malina Gueorguiev, FEI Press Manager, and as you know I follow your blog with great interest.
On this particular topic, I wanted to let you know The low, deep and round (LDR) training technique, providing it achieves flexion without undue force, was approved as acceptable by the participants at the round-table conference. The term “low” was used in the press statement sent out after the meeting and in FEI Dressage Director Trond Asmyr’s video message posted on YouTube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d_ZxIYMeojE, but a typo resulted in “low” being changed to “long” on the FEI website. This has now been corrected to reflect the decision taken by the participants in the round-table conference.
Check it out here http://www.fei.org/Media/News_Centre/News/Pages/summ.aspx?newsName=news-RoundTable-9Feb10.aspx
All the best,
Malina
I wanted to put this comment out front, because I think it's important to give credit to the FEI for listening and reading, and now responding - as we "regular horse people" discuss and write about the issues we see in the sport as a whole.
Thank you, Malina. I hope the dialogue can continue, because this kind of communication can only help in making the sport one we can enjoy and support.
I'm Malina Gueorguiev, FEI Press Manager, and as you know I follow your blog with great interest.
On this particular topic, I wanted to let you know The low, deep and round (LDR) training technique, providing it achieves flexion without undue force, was approved as acceptable by the participants at the round-table conference. The term “low” was used in the press statement sent out after the meeting and in FEI Dressage Director Trond Asmyr’s video message posted on YouTube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d_ZxIYMeojE, but a typo resulted in “low” being changed to “long” on the FEI website. This has now been corrected to reflect the decision taken by the participants in the round-table conference.
Check it out here http://www.fei.org/Media/News_Centre/News/Pages/summ.aspx?newsName=news-RoundTable-9Feb10.aspx
All the best,
Malina
I wanted to put this comment out front, because I think it's important to give credit to the FEI for listening and reading, and now responding - as we "regular horse people" discuss and write about the issues we see in the sport as a whole.
Thank you, Malina. I hope the dialogue can continue, because this kind of communication can only help in making the sport one we can enjoy and support.
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