celebrating the green on November Hill

Yesterday was the day we decided to begin the offering of green stuff in very limited amounts to the equines, and R&R were lucky to be in the right place at the right time. My husband opened the gate and in they marched for their 10 minutes in the sun.

They were soon joined by Salina and Keats the feline goddess. As you can imagine, it was not quite as easy to get them out of the back yard as it had been to invite them in!  They are all craving the green stuff, but we try to build them up slowly. They'll get 10 minutes for a few days, then 15, then when the back yard is grazed down for us we'll move to the side and front, and build them all up to 30 minutes a day each.

Between that and what's coming up in the back field they should get just the right amount of green to prepare their systems for the richer season. Right now the back field is mostly buttercups, which will get mowed when they get tall enough. If my plan works out, the mowing will coincide with their move to the front, since moving them to that much grassier field will take some time and thus it won't be grazed down for a while.

Fortunately we have the dry paddock and can use the arena as well as we move them onto the grass.

Yesterday morning I was spreading hay in the back field and heard a commotion in the forest behind our grandfather compost mountain. It was a herd of deer, 20-25 of them, and they began to leap down the hill, through the clearing, and up the hill into the next section of trees. I have never seen anything like it - the deer seemed to be fully airborne, and the flash of white tails was like a wave moving down, across, and then up again.

I searched online for photos that might show a similar movement, but there was nothing remotely like what I saw. We have deer visiting frequently, but not usually in that number, and not usually in such a smooth wave of motion. Deer symbolize new adventure, and magical journeys. As the last deer in yesterday's herd reached the edge of the forest, she stopped and turned back to look at me. As always, the soft gentle glance of a deer is like an invitation to follow.

And just like that, in a fleeting moment, the fourth magical pony book was born.

the lifestyle of totilas

I had a really upbeat, November Hill post to write this afternoon (and I will, tomorrow) but this came to my attention and I'm sorry but I feel I have to post it here.

This is how Totilas, and all the other horses on this farm live. Apparently this is typical.

It literally makes me sick. It looks like a prison.

Where is the pasture? Where is a horse ever allowed to be a horse?

I read that the horses are considered to be livestock, and treated as such.

Should any animal be housed and kept this way?

dressage anywhere??

I just read about THIS and think it's a wonderful idea.

You sign up online for a dressage test, video yourself riding that test in the comfort of your own arena, and submit the video for judging! There is a fee, but you also get an actual ribbon if you win.

This particular program is in the UK. I wish someone in the US would put something like this together, using the existing FEI standards, of course...!

trim notes for march 2010

B. wrote in great big letters across our trim note page this afternoon:

GREAT FROGS ON EVERYBODY!

Entirely due to Eleanor Kellon's equine nutrition classes and my daughter's hoof care. I am so happy to see hoof health improve to this point.

B. also noted that everyone's hooves were in good balance today, which means daughter's bareback riding is (we already knew this!) balanced and correct, and that the horses are moving well and soundly.

I'd been looking at Salina's topline for the past week or so, thinking to myself that she actually HAS one again, which is a great thing for a 27-year old mare with arthritic knees who isn't being ridden. But I thought maybe I was seeing it because I want to see her doing well. However, B. saw her and said "she's getting her topline back!"

She's turning out with the entire herd again and moving a lot every day. Today for her trim she was quite spirited and although well-behaved, I could feel her energy circling.

All the horses and the donkeys were in the back field when B. arrived. My daughter went out to get the pony, and I got Keil Bay, but Cody galloped in, and Salina and the donkeys came in too. Rafer let himself through the fence and came into the barn aisle where he attached himself to B., laying his head softly on B's shoulder, standing as closely as he could without getting in the way, and when it was his turn for a trim, he stood with a lead rope laying over his neck and lifted each hoof w/o being asked.

It's always a pleasure having B. here to do trimming, but today was especially nice: sunshine, a breeze, spring evident all around us, and a wonderful "report card" at the end. 

this is what writing group weekends do for me

I woke up this morning from a detailed and wonderful dream in which I was in the barn, preparing for a huge thunderstorm that was on the horizon. The horses were refusing to come in, and I decided to take the opportunity to get stalls set up for their sojourn from the coming storm.

In the process, I stumbled onto the door of a storage room that we had (in the dream) never really gone into or attempted to clean out. It was filled with junk left behind by the previous owners. For some reason, even though a storm was coming, I was drawn to open the door and step inside. A sheet of tin fell forward as I walked through the doorway, and after heaving it out of my way, decided I may as well explore for a few minutes.

There was a lot of junk and not much room to walk. I spied at least three ironing boards with irons resting on top, mop buckets, and various tools and bins. I thought to myself that there could be treasure there, and the only way to find it would be to do a thorough clearing. Which I knew would have to wait, since I had to get back to the horses.

But before turning to leave the room, I realized there was an opening at the back that looked unusual. I struggled through the junk to get to it. It was an open doorway, which led to a huge barn kitchen. There was a beautiful sink, refrigerator, dishwasher, washer and dryer, and plenty of counter space, and I was in shock - the very idea that for five years I had wished for a barn kitchen and it had been right there all along!

Then I saw that the kitchen area led to yet more space: a large den/tack room which had sofas and a big TV for viewing video, and a smaller den which had a smaller TV which was actually turned on. I marveled as I discovered the TV was on a timer, and must have come on regularly for the past five years, set by the previous owner and left behind, and somehow we had never heard it.

There were windows in the smaller den, which overlooked the back field. The storm had moved by us, and the sun was shining, which meant I didn't need to get back to the stalls.

I turned back toward the kitchen and discovered a long hallway that stretched in the other direction, back toward our house. I followed the hall to find several beautiful bedrooms, nicely appointed, and I thought how wonderful it would be to tell my writing friend D. that she could have one of them, and that if I wanted, I could actually live in the barn!

Further along the hallway there was a small set of stairs that led to our house. A secret passageway from house to barn! I was elated and still stunned that all this had been right under our noses and we had never known it.

The next door down the hallway opened into a huge sunlit room with an indoor pool. The pool was full and clean and begging for swimmers. No wonder my husband had been complaining about high electricity bills! It wasn't the barn fans, or the lights we were leaving on. It was this entire wing of the house and barn, and the swimming pool pump!

At the end of the hallway was a big wooden door with a tremendous bolt. I wondered what might lie behind it, and why it would need such reinforcement. Curious, but not afraid, I opened it. It was a doorway to what was a combination of Weymouth (the place I go to for writing retreats) and the Biltmore Estate. I had my own private entrance to the best writing retreat in the world! And it was only a few strides down the hallway from my horses and donkeys and family - so easy to slip away and come back. I took a walk through the mansion to assure myself it was real, and then headed back to tell my entire family, as well as D., that I had found an absolute treasure - via the ignored and previously avoided junk room in our barn.

I doubt anyone needs me to interpret this dream. Give me a writing weekend, my creative family, good company, magical ponies,  the real magical ponies I live with, Corgis and cats, and a slight obsession with not being able to keep my house clean, and this is what happens.

Shove your way past the junk and what do you find: a secret paradise full of dreams come true.