Sunday, April 25, 2010

a couple of birthdays and the gift of connection

This morning I was awakened by Kyra Corgi, who I believe thought I was rudely sleeping in when clearly it was breakfast time. Six a.m. I got up, fed her and the felines, and decided to repeat my lazy woman's way of feeding early morning hay - open the gates and let the equines have at the round bale.

It was still covered by the tarp I put over it last night in advance of the rain that came through, but I figured (correctly) that the horses and donkeys would nibble around the edges and get plenty.

Since they spent at least part of the night in their stalls due to the rain, there was some mucking to do. I did most of it and then came back in for coffee and a break before feeding breakfast tubs.

When I went back out, the sun had burst through the clouds, and as I finished up the last of the mucking, down at the far end of the dirt paddock, I thought: I should probably take the tarp off and let the bale air out since it's going to rain again tonight and it will have to be covered again.

But I needed to finish mucking, and let go of the thought. Then I heard a loud crackling noise and looked back to the barnyard. Keil Bay was dragging the tarp completely off the round bale. It was a big tarp, and it required him to take it in his teeth and walk away to pull it, which is exactly what he did. And then he looked at me, and it was clear he was saying: there you go. 

A few moments later a big wind blew through the barnyard, but up high, so that suddenly, in the morning sunshine, all the big trees did a shimmy, like horses shaking after a roll, loosing raindrops that looked like twenty little rain showers all around the barn.

We're celebrating two birthdays this weekend. Keil Bay is 21 and Apache Moon, also known fondly as the Little Man and The Pony, is 10.

They got an entire bag of baby carrots yesterday, and will get more in the way of shared treats for the herd today and probably again tomorrow. But it occurs to me. How do you say happy birthday to a horse that means the world to you?

Anyone who reads here regularly knows we have a special herd of equines. And I love them all dearly. But Keil Bay is very special to me. He's the horse I found late one night when I typed my ideal criteria into dreamhorse.com and he's the one horse that popped up when I hit "search."

There was little doubt when I met him that he was the horse for me. Ever since he came to live with me, first at a boarding barn and then to November Hill, he has showered me with gifts.

When I needed to overcome a slight fear of his huge trot, he did a very elegant spook at the gait to show me I was secure in the saddle. When I worried some over his huge canter, he did a spook and spin that was so balanced and elegant all I knew was that one moment we'd been cantering one way, and the next, we were going in the opposite direction. There was nothing anyone could have said or done that made me more secure than those two elegantly executed spooks. In a matter of a few moments, Keil Bay proved to me that I could ride anything he might offer.

One afternoon he took me over a few baby jumps in the arena and reminded me what it felt like to ride as a girl, many years back, with no fear and the pure joy of going fast and going airborne.

He twirls lead ropes and tosses halters to entertain me while he waits for his breakfast. He does yoga stretches that make me smile. He turns radio dials from classical to rock and bobs his head when the chiropractor hasn't yet found the spot that needs adjusting.

Keil Bay is often referred to as The King around here. And I often say he's The King of All Horses. But what Keil Bay is really the King of is Bringing Me Great Joy, and sometimes I wish I knew what I could do to thank him for that.

A riding teacher told me when I first brought Keil Bay home that he didn't need constant rewards from me. That the reward for him, just as it was for me, was the connection we shared. That as much as it meant to me when we read one another's minds, and found moments of pure harmony during a ride, and shared humor and fun, it meant equally as much to him. And that was the reward for both of us.

She was right.

Thank you, Keil Bay, for being my dream horse. And a very happy birthday to you and to the Little Man.

Saturday, April 24, 2010

it's going to be a long weekend

My husband and daughter have set forth on a photographic expedition and the chores are overwhelming me after only one day. It's amazing how much work it is when one person has to do it all.

The equines were absolutely nonplussed yesterday evening when I put on fly masks and opened the gate to the front field. They got a few hours of bliss and I could barely get them to come in for dinner so I could close the field off and move them onto the back again for the night. Keil Bay came in when I called - and finally Salina and the donkeys begrudgingly came, but Cody and the Little Man HID from me and had to be retrieved with a flashlight.

I went to bed last night with an ice pack and an NSAID, remembering something the vet said to me a few years back: Bute is your friend.

Maybe he was talking about ME and not Salina!

This morning I was awakened before dawn by Moomintroll on my chest, pushing at my face with his mitten paw (he's polydactyl). My husband does the early morning cat, Corgi, and hay for equines feed, but today I had to drag myself out of bed and do it myself. I confess that I simply opened the gate to the barnyard and let all the equines come in to the round bale until breakfast.

I may be exhausted but I will be very popular!

Thursday, April 22, 2010

the FEI comments, and I have a few questions

This afternoon I received this comment on my recent FEI post about the new guidelines for stewards. Malina, the FEI press manager, has commented here before and I'm glad she has returned to shed some light on the guidelines.  Her comment:

Hello Billie,

The new Guidelines for Stewards were issued on 15 April 2010; they were announced that day and published on the FEI website. I tried to post a comment on your blog to alert you to the fact but it never appeared. That might be because I included a URL, I've had that problem before.

In any case, I wanted to clarify that, according to the new FEI Guidelines for Stewards, any head and neck position achieved through force or aggressive riding is unacceptable for any length of time. Even a head and neck position achieved harmoniously and without force can only be maintained for a maximum of ten minutes.

Also, just to confirm that the FEI has stated categorically that the use of rollkur/hyperflexion is unacceptable and the Stewards will intervene. The diagrams that will be provided to Stewards will illustrate what head and neck positions are acceptable. The new Guidelines will be implemented from 15 May 2010.


All the best,
Malina (FEI Press Manager)



My questions:

How are force and aggressive riding defined, exactly? I have not yet seen anything revealing how this will be determined by either stewards or judges.
  
For example, the riders in the photos HERE.



The rider in blue shirt on black horse and rider in tan/black shirt on bay horse appear to me to be riding with force. The arms are behind the riders' torsos, which are torqued back, the curb shanks are nearly horizontal, the horses' muzzles are nearly touching chests, mouths gaping open, and horses' tails are not at all relaxed and swinging. Is this not force and/or aggressive riding? Is it not the perfect illustration of rollkur/hyperflexion?


Secondly, I am very curious and eager to see the diagrams that to my knowledge have not appeared anywhere as of this writing. When will they be revealed to the public? It's pointless imo to refer to them if they are not able to be examined.


As you can tell, I am very frustrated about the way this recent announcement was handled by the FEI. It feels like the assurances that were made have not been honored, and with the current brouhaha concerning McLain Ward and Sapphire, it also feels like the FEI's inconsistency in addressing these issues across the board is veering wildly from no response at all (Patrik Kittel and Scandic, on videotape) to targeting a horse who by all accounts appears to be in sound jumping form and has now been completely disqualified in a whirlwind of "protective action."


What is the bottom line here? If rollkur/hyperflexion is no longer allowed, then why am I seeing photographs of Anky et al doing it as recently as this past weekend? 


To my knowledge there was no intervention by stewards.

The above horses are not happy athletes. The riding does not meet the current FEI guidelines. Why is it being allowed?


If all this is going to change, in a 180 degree turn for the better, on May 15th, I will be thrilled. But I see no evidence to think this is going to occur. I sincerely hope to be proven wrong.

more FEI insanity

I've been following this story all week but haven't posted anything about it. But HERE'S A LINK to a site that has really followed the various press releases, interviews, etc. and presents them in sequence.

Worth a read.

My latest feeling is that there should be some legal action put into play against the FEI. For both not protecting horses when it should AND for targeting riders and horses inappropriately.

Disgusting.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

light and shadow


Another of my daughter's photographs - until she gets her own site up and running, I will continue to post her work and enjoy the fact that I'm off the hook for taking my own!!

I love this one because of the contrast between the light and shadow, and the quality of the light coming through the leaves shaped by the dark trunk and branches of the trees.

I have many, many negatives of photographs I took simply exploring the way light falls onto different surfaces, and the patterns it makes coming through various objects and filters. It's so much fun seeing her explore some of those same things.

Today is a gray day, and I notice as I look out the window that with gray you lose both the brightness and the shadows. Gray brings everything to the middle.

Interesting because it works that way psychologically as well. We all need some gray for balance, but the highs and lows we experience are like light and shadow - they seem to go together, the contrast being part of what defines them.

All my novels explore light and shadow in the lives of the characters, most of whom have to learn about their shadows in order to find the light. It's a fascinating journey, navigating the shadows, following a path through darkness into something lighter, and being able to enjoy the light because of the shadows that surrounded it.

Yesterday evening I mowed the weeds, mostly buttercups, in the front field, while all the equines grazed the front yard. Because of the way we have the front enclosed, as a temporary grazing area, we monitor things closely when the horses and donkeys are up there. A dark grey was beginning to roll in anyway, but as evening approached the front began to get murky, and the young, round evergreens that seem to sprout up everywhere looked like figures looming beneath the trees. The horses are more alert when in the front yard, attuned to the same sights and sounds, but in a different way because of the smaller space they're in.

Between the buzz of the mower and the overall dimming of the day around me, my biggest connection to the world at large was the movement of the horses and donkeys. I discovered that even when I was mowing away from where they grazed, I could sense their movement behind me. I'm not sure how - it was not by sight or sound, but a distinct change in the air around me that caused me to turn and look, and I'd catch sight then of the shifting herd.

It was nearing dark when I finished up, and drove through the gate at the top of the field and on through the darkened barn aisle, the headlights of the mower cutting a vague path as I passed through. The horses were happy enough to be driven up as a herd by my husband, back to the security of their regular areas.

In the barnyard, the feel was different. We all let our guards back down, and let the night and the possibility of rain take us over.