Why?
He has not paid any of the $500,000 judgment which was first rendered by the Federal 9th District court, then upheld by the 6th Circuit, the second highest court in the US. The US Marshals did not depose him but rather delivered a Notice of Deposition, Request for Production of Documents and Interrogatories, as well as collect any cash, jewelry, personal property on his person. Today, the amount of monies owed is in excess of $900,000 given 10 years of interest. He was deposed the following day in Lexington. His home in FL was transferred to his then-girlfriend (with whom he has a child) one day before the emergency order was registered in FL in the year 2000.
For more info on this case, go HERE.
It's generally true that our behavior speaks volumes about us as people, and all I can say to the people who follow this man's training methods is this: look at how he lives his life. A lot of us believe that how we ride our horses speaks volumes about who we are as people. We know how he rides his horses. If that's not revealing enough, this, as far as I'm concerned, tells the rest of the story.
Why do I care?
It bothers me deeply when people who have great influence use it wrongly, for their own gain, and further, use animals as the means to their greedy ends.
That people fall for it upsets me more, as it seems indicative of some of the craziness in the world we live in today.
There's nothing I can do about it, except write about it and hope that when people read, they look at all the pieces they can find, and manage to put together a complete picture for themselves.
And maybe use it as a measure for themselves and their own dealings in the world of horses.
billie hinton’s camera-obscura:
life and lessons on November Hill Farm
Friday, October 08, 2010
Thursday, October 07, 2010
impromptu offering for local folks
Friday 15 October: 10 - 3 p.m. :
an outdoor day with equines and guided writing exercises. Come work on writing or a stuck place in your life. I can tailor the exercises to your individual project or goal.
$125. or help with barn chores and take the workshop for $75.
I have room for 3 people. Bring your own lunch or one of us can do a run to Angelina's and get take-out.
Wednesday, October 06, 2010
letting the acorns fall (cross-posted from November Hill Press blog)
I want to take a moment to talk a little bit about November Hill Press and why I decided to launch it at this point in my writing life. I've been writing novels since I was around 3 years old. The early novels were a toddler's version of cursive writing in blue ballpoint on yellow legal pads. I would meticulously put my scrawl on every centimeter of every legal pad line, filling page after page. There are pictures of my toddler self sleeping, pen in hand, with my pad filled with writing. That I was wearing footed pajamas adds to the charm. Sadly (for me, only) I don't remember what it was I wrote, and so those early works are lost!
But the point is, from that very early time in my life I was driven to write. My mother still has a few novels in which I scratched out the author's name on the title pages and tried to write my own name there. I have no memory of that, but it seems even before I could write, I wanted to be a writer.
I've spent years reading and writing. I have an undergraduate degree in English and a master's in clinical social work. I've written poems, short stories, feature articles, papers, and novels. I went through the usual channels with the novels, and although I met wonderful people and had generally good experiences with agents and editors, the process was slow. I am impatient. And the years roll on.
One evening last summer I walked down to the very back of our farm, November Hill. I was standing on the slope looking across at the "hundred acre wood" that lies behind us, when a huge herd of deer came from behind me, leaping together in such a way that it seemed they never touched the ground, their brown bodies arching away from me, down the hill, up the other side, and into the forest. White tails were flashing as they went. The herd was so large this took awhile. I stood, feeling like magic was happening. And then the last deer passed. She slowed and stopped. She turned and looked at me, and then leaped out of sight, hidden instantly as she entered the tree line.
Ted Andrews in his beautiful book, Animal Speak, says that deer often symbolize a call to adventure. An invitation to a journey that might take several years to come to fruition. For days after that encounter, I kept seeing the image of that deer who stopped and turned back. I kept feeling the call.
And that's how November Hill Press was born.
The journey is taking longer than I thought. When we hand our novels into the hands of editors, we hopefully trust them to make the books better. The first novel that is slated to come out under the November Hill Press umbrella has been edited and commented on and reworked. It's been ready to go for several years, if only it had a place to go TO.
And yet, now that I am singly in charge of its publication, I am obsessed with reworking it yet again.
This week I read Michael Cunningham's NY Times Op-Ed piece, "Found In Translation:"
Here’s a secret. Many novelists, if they are pressed and if they are being honest, will admit that the finished book is a rather rough translation of the book they’d intended to write. It’s one of the heartbreaks of writing fiction. You have, for months or years, been walking around with the idea of a novel in your mind, and in your mind it’s transcendent, it’s brilliantly comic and howlingly tragic, it contains everything you know, and everything you can imagine, about human life on the planet earth. It is vast and mysterious and awe-inspiring. It is a cathedral made of fire.
But even if the book in question turns out fairly well, it’s never the book that you’d hoped to write. It’s smaller than the book you’d hoped to write. It is an object, a collection of sentences, and it does not remotely resemble a cathedral made of fire.
It feels, in short, like a rather inept translation of a mythical great work.
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/10/03/opinion/03cunningham.html?_r=1
As I read the above passage, I breathed a sigh of something close to relief. It's true. The cathedral made of fire is getting ready to be put into something concrete, an e-book, and then a paperback. Will it lose its brilliance in that translation? That's what we all fear, I think, and it's certainly part of what I'm struggling with as I try to get my manuscript, which has long been titled "claire-obscure-final" in my document file, to the point where I am able to send it on to the next phase.
Beyond this first title, there are four more ready to go.
It's a big leap, just like what the deer were doing last summer, when I stood and watched in awe.
Earlier this week I had another encounter with the November Hill deer. It was evening. They were standing in the arena, a place I've never seen them. There were five of them. They were eating acorns under the big oak tree.
Ted Andrews says in his book Nature-Speak that the oak symbolizes strength and endurance winning out, and opening to new spirit forces. He says the acorn is a symbol of fertility and fruition and the manifestation of creativity, and that the presence of acorns in a meaningful way can be a sign that the fruit of our efforts over the past year or two is about to be harvested.
Bear with me as I deal with these cathedrals made of fire issues. It's part of this process, and I'm trying to honor it while keeping to my original goal - which is letting these acorns fall.
But the point is, from that very early time in my life I was driven to write. My mother still has a few novels in which I scratched out the author's name on the title pages and tried to write my own name there. I have no memory of that, but it seems even before I could write, I wanted to be a writer.
I've spent years reading and writing. I have an undergraduate degree in English and a master's in clinical social work. I've written poems, short stories, feature articles, papers, and novels. I went through the usual channels with the novels, and although I met wonderful people and had generally good experiences with agents and editors, the process was slow. I am impatient. And the years roll on.
One evening last summer I walked down to the very back of our farm, November Hill. I was standing on the slope looking across at the "hundred acre wood" that lies behind us, when a huge herd of deer came from behind me, leaping together in such a way that it seemed they never touched the ground, their brown bodies arching away from me, down the hill, up the other side, and into the forest. White tails were flashing as they went. The herd was so large this took awhile. I stood, feeling like magic was happening. And then the last deer passed. She slowed and stopped. She turned and looked at me, and then leaped out of sight, hidden instantly as she entered the tree line.
Ted Andrews in his beautiful book, Animal Speak, says that deer often symbolize a call to adventure. An invitation to a journey that might take several years to come to fruition. For days after that encounter, I kept seeing the image of that deer who stopped and turned back. I kept feeling the call.
And that's how November Hill Press was born.
The journey is taking longer than I thought. When we hand our novels into the hands of editors, we hopefully trust them to make the books better. The first novel that is slated to come out under the November Hill Press umbrella has been edited and commented on and reworked. It's been ready to go for several years, if only it had a place to go TO.
And yet, now that I am singly in charge of its publication, I am obsessed with reworking it yet again.
This week I read Michael Cunningham's NY Times Op-Ed piece, "Found In Translation:"
Here’s a secret. Many novelists, if they are pressed and if they are being honest, will admit that the finished book is a rather rough translation of the book they’d intended to write. It’s one of the heartbreaks of writing fiction. You have, for months or years, been walking around with the idea of a novel in your mind, and in your mind it’s transcendent, it’s brilliantly comic and howlingly tragic, it contains everything you know, and everything you can imagine, about human life on the planet earth. It is vast and mysterious and awe-inspiring. It is a cathedral made of fire.
But even if the book in question turns out fairly well, it’s never the book that you’d hoped to write. It’s smaller than the book you’d hoped to write. It is an object, a collection of sentences, and it does not remotely resemble a cathedral made of fire.
It feels, in short, like a rather inept translation of a mythical great work.
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/10/03/opinion/03cunningham.html?_r=1
As I read the above passage, I breathed a sigh of something close to relief. It's true. The cathedral made of fire is getting ready to be put into something concrete, an e-book, and then a paperback. Will it lose its brilliance in that translation? That's what we all fear, I think, and it's certainly part of what I'm struggling with as I try to get my manuscript, which has long been titled "claire-obscure-final" in my document file, to the point where I am able to send it on to the next phase.
Beyond this first title, there are four more ready to go.
It's a big leap, just like what the deer were doing last summer, when I stood and watched in awe.
Earlier this week I had another encounter with the November Hill deer. It was evening. They were standing in the arena, a place I've never seen them. There were five of them. They were eating acorns under the big oak tree.
Ted Andrews says in his book Nature-Speak that the oak symbolizes strength and endurance winning out, and opening to new spirit forces. He says the acorn is a symbol of fertility and fruition and the manifestation of creativity, and that the presence of acorns in a meaningful way can be a sign that the fruit of our efforts over the past year or two is about to be harvested.
Bear with me as I deal with these cathedrals made of fire issues. It's part of this process, and I'm trying to honor it while keeping to my original goal - which is letting these acorns fall.
Tuesday, October 05, 2010
Monday, October 04, 2010
measuring tape and ginger snaps
Time on this gorgeous autumn day to take measurements so I can update my equine weight charts and re-calculate diets going into the winter season.
With ginger snaps and timothy cubes as treats, I was the most popular activity on the property!
Apache Moon taped at 13.2h today. For years he was 12.2 and then last year I noticed he had added an inch. I'm not sure if he was standing on tip-hooves today so his height matches heart girth, or if he decided that he has to grow some to keep up with his girl's long legs!
Salina and Cody taped at their usual, but Keil Bay initially taped at 17h today! Then he taped at 16.3. He has been 16.2. No wonder I have had to resort to the barrel for mounting.
The mysteries of measuring horses...
Whatever the numbers, it is a pleasure to work with this curious, cooperative, fun-loving herd. I think we're all as happy as can be now that fall has arrived.
With ginger snaps and timothy cubes as treats, I was the most popular activity on the property!
Apache Moon taped at 13.2h today. For years he was 12.2 and then last year I noticed he had added an inch. I'm not sure if he was standing on tip-hooves today so his height matches heart girth, or if he decided that he has to grow some to keep up with his girl's long legs!
Salina and Cody taped at their usual, but Keil Bay initially taped at 17h today! Then he taped at 16.3. He has been 16.2. No wonder I have had to resort to the barrel for mounting.
The mysteries of measuring horses...
Whatever the numbers, it is a pleasure to work with this curious, cooperative, fun-loving herd. I think we're all as happy as can be now that fall has arrived.
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