I've been trying to put up a new post for two days now. We're having some internet issues and I haven't been able to upload photos, redecorate the blog for the winter season, or do anything except check email and browse the internet!
Hopefully things will be fixed tomorrow.
Meanwhile, it has been a very cold week, a rainy and warmer weekend, and now that everything is nice and wet, a cold front is blowing in with winds which means tomorrow night's wind chill is below zero and in the single digits all of Tuesday. Thank goodness for Salina's Whinny Warmers, and for horses that grow teddy bear coats! (no need to even mention the donka boys - they are as fluffy as stuffed animals!) I am so ready to pack up and move somewhere else until this early winter shifts in a different direction. Highs in the mid-40s and lows in the mid-20s would be welcomed. I hate to say this, but I would gladly welcome a winter solstice and Christmas day with the bizarre warm temperatures we sometimes get here during the winter.
Yesterday daughter and I braved the rain and headed to a lovely little tack consignment shop that is jam-packed with riding attire, gear, tack, and home decor. There is an absolutely stunning set of china there that has driving horses and carriages. I drooled a bit over the set and also a foxhunting scene tree skirt while daughter tried on hunt coats, shirts, breeches, and stock ties. We found a very beautiful black wool coat for her that fits well. She has room to layer, a little room to grow, and it looks extremely elegant on her. We also got a white shirt and stock tie, and some tan breeches without breaking the bank.
Unfortunately, the junior hunt and hunt breakfast this coming Saturday looks like it will have a high of 38 degrees and possible rain. There is no way I would go out in that kind of weather, but I suspect they will, and she will, and I will be standing in the cold waiting for her.
It's a good thing I discovered Rita Mae Brown's foxhunting series and just finished the first, called Outfoxed. Maybe I can root around for my inner foxhunting self on Saturday when I'm totally wishing I was home by the woodstove with Rita Mae's second novel!
Today was mostly spent driving around with husband running errands. I rarely go to more than one store or shop in a day's time, as I have totally lost the ability to drive around, park, deal with crowds and those horrid lights they have in most stores, and then stand in line to buy more stuff. But we needed groceries, pine pellets, Christmas tree lights, miscellaneous this and that, and some long underwear (which I couldn't find in the right colors/sizes) so off we went. I am a devoted local shopper but sometimes we have to venture further, to the bigger stores, to find certain things. I am now an even more devoted LandsEnd and LLBean shopper than I already was. I just have to get more organized so I have time to order things enough ahead of time to allow for the shipping.
We did see a double rainbow, there was a cranberry bliss bar and latte from Starbuck's, and the bag the cranberry bliss bar came in made the entire shopping fiasco worthwhile:
Stories are gifts.
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Good food is like a good story.
With a red deer in snow banks, with huge dark brown antlers tipped with red holly berries and a white dove lighting on one antler, and snowflakes falling all around.
It was almost like a November Hill Press omen landing right in my hands.
Of all the "stuff" that came home with us in the truck, this little brown paper bag is what I have carefully made sure ended up here on my desk.
Sometimes, many times, the simple pleasures are the very best.
billie hinton’s camera-obscura:
life and lessons on November Hill Farm
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Thursday, December 09, 2010
of what does a donkey dream?
The two little donka boys are napping in the sun this afternoon, watched over by Salina. I'm sitting here watching them, thinking how lucky I am to have such adorable family members and wishing I could just whisk them right in here with me and tuck them into my bed.
In the midst of his nap, Redford started braying. In his sleep! He kept going until Kyra Corgi barked from the back yard and woke him up.
What does a donkey boy dream about? Hay, full feed tubs, running and playing? He is sitting there right now, little donkey knees tucked tightly together, ears aimed back at Salina who has decided to come closer.
In the midst of his nap, Redford started braying. In his sleep! He kept going until Kyra Corgi barked from the back yard and woke him up.
What does a donkey boy dream about? Hay, full feed tubs, running and playing? He is sitting there right now, little donkey knees tucked tightly together, ears aimed back at Salina who has decided to come closer.
chivalry
I might be the last person to see this (we don't have TV) but it came through as a link on my classical dressage list and reminded me of Keil Bay (the king, you know) and then stuck with me as I posted about Tilikum and the huge group that enslaves him.
If I was technically savvy enough I'd take the words and music from the Chivas ad and put them with a Sea World clip of Tillikum in his tank and broadcast it far and wide.
But in any case, here it is.
If I was technically savvy enough I'd take the words and music from the Chivas ad and put them with a Sea World clip of Tillikum in his tank and broadcast it far and wide.
But in any case, here it is.
Wednesday, December 08, 2010
more on Tilikum, the sperm whale at Sea World
Yesterday I noticed a tremendous spike in the visits to camera-obscura - huge numbers, out of the blue. I investigated and discovered that the crowds were coming from Google searches for Tilikum and sperm collection.
You may remember that I heard a story on NPR several months back that so incensed me I wrote a blog post about it. You can go back and read it HERE.
Apparently, and who knew, Tommy Lee of Motley Crue and I have something in common. We both find the fact that Tillikum is being held captive for use as a sperm bank unconscionable. We also find the method they are using to collect the sperm, as Tommy Lee put it, "sick and twisted."
Tommy Lee wrote a letter to Sea World. Perhaps we should all follow his example.
See the article HERE.
There is also a wonderful article of this on Psychology Today's blog. I hope everyone who comes here will read THIS and do something today to speak out about yet another example of humans using animals for gain even if it means a life of suffering for the animal.
******
Sheaffer has requested information on how to speak out on this issue. I'm searching and will add info as I find it online.
To start, here's an easy online letter you can send via PETA: CLICK HERE.
As best I can determine, Sea World is owned by Blackstone Corporation. Here is the info - write and mail, write and fax, or call! If I can find any email info, I will add it here later.
The Blackstone Group
Stephen A. Schwarzman
Chairman, CEO & Co-Founder
You may remember that I heard a story on NPR several months back that so incensed me I wrote a blog post about it. You can go back and read it HERE.
Apparently, and who knew, Tommy Lee of Motley Crue and I have something in common. We both find the fact that Tillikum is being held captive for use as a sperm bank unconscionable. We also find the method they are using to collect the sperm, as Tommy Lee put it, "sick and twisted."
Tommy Lee wrote a letter to Sea World. Perhaps we should all follow his example.
See the article HERE.
There is also a wonderful article of this on Psychology Today's blog. I hope everyone who comes here will read THIS and do something today to speak out about yet another example of humans using animals for gain even if it means a life of suffering for the animal.
******
Sheaffer has requested information on how to speak out on this issue. I'm searching and will add info as I find it online.
To start, here's an easy online letter you can send via PETA: CLICK HERE.
As best I can determine, Sea World is owned by Blackstone Corporation. Here is the info - write and mail, write and fax, or call! If I can find any email info, I will add it here later.
The Blackstone Group
Stephen A. Schwarzman
Chairman, CEO & Co-Founder
345 Park Avenue
New York, NY 10154
Phone:+1 212 583 5000
Fax: +1 212 583 5749
New York, NY 10154
Phone:+1 212 583 5000
Fax: +1 212 583 5749
Sunday, December 05, 2010
when we are old and gray
I was thinking of a favorite poem this weekend, by William Butler Yeats, which opens:
When you are old and gray and full of sleep
And nodding by the fire, take down this book
And slowly read...
And in my head it morphed to this:
When you are old and gray and full of sleep
And mucking out five stalls...
It reminded me of an older woman I saw once while with my daughter at a Pony Club activity. She could walk, but not easily, and two women around my age were helping her from the car to the barn. I imagined she might be one of the women's mother, come to see a horse, but after a while the women and two saddled horses came out of the barn, and with a fair amount of struggle, they helped the older woman mount. Then one of the other women mounted and the two rode off together. The older woman seemed happy, and her horse was frisky, but settled down as they rounded a curve in the path and disappeared.
Someone told me later that the older woman boarded her horse there, and although she was barely able to walk or mount, she often came out with various friends who agreed to help her and ride with her, because she was determined to keep riding as long as she could.
Sometimes, when I'm doing particularly difficult chores here on November Hill, I wonder what it might be like to manage things when I'm old and gray, and have to go more slowly, and more carefully than I do now.
I'm fortunate to have a husband who not only pitches in mightily on a daily basis, but is ten years younger than I am, and two children who I think will try to help as much as they can. But in the later years it could certainly be difficult for even an aged couple to do all the things that need doing.
I have in mind a retirement arrangement for horsewomen, where instead of struggling alone a group go in together, pooling resources so that everyone keeps their animals at "the home" and everyone pitches in to do what they can do. What can't be done could be hired out, which would be affordable if divided among the group. Wouldn't it be great for the grown children to know that aging parents have company and help and animals are safe and cared for?
Likely what set my mind on this course was the snow that fell here yesterday. We live in an area where the snow generally melts pretty quickly, but even one afternoon of trying to keep horses comfortable, especially Salina who can't go out on slippery footing but can't be stalled either due to her arthritic knees, set me thinking about my own body and abilities in the future.
While I walked around thinking about the future, the animals were all solidly in the present moment: horses and donkeys grazed their hay for half an hour as the snow fell, then made their way one by one to the barn where they went into clean, dry stalls full of hay. The Corgis ran wild, barking at the snow, Bear enjoying his very first snowfall ever. The Mystical Kit leaped into the air, capturing the snowflakes before they could hit the ground, and the other cats found baskets and boxes by the woodstove and poured themselves in like liquid fur.
I'd seen Keil Bay curl up like a kitten in the front field outside my window yesterday morning, soaking in the sun, as if he knew that later he would need that warmth. And last night, when we put blankets on, I realized that the first blanket I ever bought for Apache Moon, which was bought at the tack shop at the last minute on the day before a huge snowfall was forecast, and which was too big for him, now fits perfectly. I saved it as an extra all these years, but rarely used it because of how big it was. He's standing outside my window right this moment as I type, wearing the blanket, proving that I wasn't dreaming, or measuring wildly, when I taped him in October and discovered that he has grown an entire hand.
The snow is already gone, but we're in for a week of colder than usual temps for us. The wood stove is going strong, and I'm getting ready to take my daughter to a trail ride with her jumping classmates. While she rides out onto a 3000+ acre tract of trails, I'll sit in the truck and keep warm with a book.
The geldings just cantered past my window, reminding me that we are, for now, young and still full of beans on a cold morning.
When you are old and gray and full of sleep
And nodding by the fire, take down this book
And slowly read...
And in my head it morphed to this:
When you are old and gray and full of sleep
And mucking out five stalls...
It reminded me of an older woman I saw once while with my daughter at a Pony Club activity. She could walk, but not easily, and two women around my age were helping her from the car to the barn. I imagined she might be one of the women's mother, come to see a horse, but after a while the women and two saddled horses came out of the barn, and with a fair amount of struggle, they helped the older woman mount. Then one of the other women mounted and the two rode off together. The older woman seemed happy, and her horse was frisky, but settled down as they rounded a curve in the path and disappeared.
Someone told me later that the older woman boarded her horse there, and although she was barely able to walk or mount, she often came out with various friends who agreed to help her and ride with her, because she was determined to keep riding as long as she could.
Sometimes, when I'm doing particularly difficult chores here on November Hill, I wonder what it might be like to manage things when I'm old and gray, and have to go more slowly, and more carefully than I do now.
I'm fortunate to have a husband who not only pitches in mightily on a daily basis, but is ten years younger than I am, and two children who I think will try to help as much as they can. But in the later years it could certainly be difficult for even an aged couple to do all the things that need doing.
I have in mind a retirement arrangement for horsewomen, where instead of struggling alone a group go in together, pooling resources so that everyone keeps their animals at "the home" and everyone pitches in to do what they can do. What can't be done could be hired out, which would be affordable if divided among the group. Wouldn't it be great for the grown children to know that aging parents have company and help and animals are safe and cared for?
Likely what set my mind on this course was the snow that fell here yesterday. We live in an area where the snow generally melts pretty quickly, but even one afternoon of trying to keep horses comfortable, especially Salina who can't go out on slippery footing but can't be stalled either due to her arthritic knees, set me thinking about my own body and abilities in the future.
While I walked around thinking about the future, the animals were all solidly in the present moment: horses and donkeys grazed their hay for half an hour as the snow fell, then made their way one by one to the barn where they went into clean, dry stalls full of hay. The Corgis ran wild, barking at the snow, Bear enjoying his very first snowfall ever. The Mystical Kit leaped into the air, capturing the snowflakes before they could hit the ground, and the other cats found baskets and boxes by the woodstove and poured themselves in like liquid fur.
I'd seen Keil Bay curl up like a kitten in the front field outside my window yesterday morning, soaking in the sun, as if he knew that later he would need that warmth. And last night, when we put blankets on, I realized that the first blanket I ever bought for Apache Moon, which was bought at the tack shop at the last minute on the day before a huge snowfall was forecast, and which was too big for him, now fits perfectly. I saved it as an extra all these years, but rarely used it because of how big it was. He's standing outside my window right this moment as I type, wearing the blanket, proving that I wasn't dreaming, or measuring wildly, when I taped him in October and discovered that he has grown an entire hand.
The snow is already gone, but we're in for a week of colder than usual temps for us. The wood stove is going strong, and I'm getting ready to take my daughter to a trail ride with her jumping classmates. While she rides out onto a 3000+ acre tract of trails, I'll sit in the truck and keep warm with a book.
The geldings just cantered past my window, reminding me that we are, for now, young and still full of beans on a cold morning.
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