Gabbrielle Under Saddle: Day 2

Normally, I start working with the horses after my neighbors leave for church on Sundays, because before then they are making fifty trips between their house and the vehicle while preparing for their outing, and it is just too distracting for my horses with all the door slamming going on. However, this morning I had to beat the thunderstorms, so I got out there early while my husband was still in bed sleeping.

The car that my neighbors take to church was already gone, and I got excited over my lucky break. I saddled up Gabbrielle, lunged her and ground drove her to review the cues, and then knocked on my daughter's bedroom window to ask her to come out and help. As soon as I got ready to mount, my neighbor drove up and a bunch of people and kids climbed out of the car. Apparently, they were making going to church a group effort this morning.

Once they finished slamming doors and went inside the house, I mounted, or at least tried my best. Gabbrielle started swinging her hips away to avoid it, so we just walked her back into position and said whoa. As long as I remembered to repeat the word "whoa" throughout mounting, she would hold still. My equitation instructor always gets on my case for tightening the cinch too much, and I noticed that the cinch had left an indentation in Gabbrielle's fur the last time I rode her. I don't want her to end up being a cinchy horse like Lostine, always taking nips at me when I try to tighten it, so I left it a notch looser than before. As soon as I started swinging my leg over, the saddle slid down Gabbrielle's side.

She jumped forward, but I was already committed, so I threw my foot into the opposite stirrup and leaned my weight hard to the right to straighten the saddle out. My poor daughter was wrestling with Gabbrielle to keep her still. At first I was going to ride her with the saddle loose, but then remembered the story of my broken arm.

You can still see the scar on it even though it happened seven years ago. I had ridden Bombay when he was only a few days under saddle and the cinch was loose. He got confused by my cues and launched into a bucking frenzy, which caused the saddle to slide down under his belly, which made him buck harder, and I threw myself off his bare back when I couldn't take it anymore. The lesson on that day was to always stay in the saddle. Better to tolerate a few dozen more bucks in the saddle than to end up in a hospital and recovering from a broken arm for the next three months.

I immediately dismounted Gabbrielle, tightened her cinch, and had my daughter walk her around a bit more to get the pinches out. Just when I was about to mount a second time, the neighbors and their friends came out. They were showing them around the yard and Gabbrielle was on high alert as they picked up and dropped items in their yard. Then the door slamming commenced. I was taking bets from my daughter on how long it would take them to actually get in the car and go. It was starting to look like they were leaving when the woman decided to walk her dog behind my barn to piddle and take a dump while everyone else waited for her in the car.

As soon as they drove off, I mounted a second time. This time my boot caught the handle of the step stool and made a crashing noise, which sent Gabbrielle flying away from me, but I hung on and was able to finish the mount, sloppy as it may have been. I'm sorry that my horse had to be introduced to bad mounting so early in her career, but it will only serve to make her closer to being bombproof in the future.

My daughter led on the lead rope while I gave the cluck and whoa commands. What we did different today was to turn tighter and add leg cues. On her first day under saddle I kept my legs completely off her. Today I used my legs as a pole for her to turn around as we made tight turns. This was a good exercise, because she did have trouble adjusting her weight with me on her back at first. I could feel her stumbling and her hind legs were coming out from underneath her, but by the 4th or 5th turn she had it all figured out.

A Storm is Always Brewing Here

I overslept this morning and everyone took off for different destinations, so I was in another conundrum regarding riding the horses. I want to get as much riding in as possible every weekend, but I prefer that at least someone be within yelling distance in case I need assistance. I went outside just to enjoy the great outdoors, listen to some birds chirping, and hang with the horses for a while, but yet another annoying neighbor ruined that by blasting rap music from his car stereo while he worked under his hood. This was coming from a house across the highway that historically has had dozens of people living in it. I don't even know who they are, but they have at least eight or nine vehicles in their front yard at any given time of day.

I went out to pick up my mail and made a point of keeping my fingers stuck in my ears all the way there and all the way back home, hoping the jerk would notice my discomfort. There was no point yelling at him, because he couldn't hear me over the horrendous volume. Rap music disturbs me on a very deep level. When the base is pumped up, it actually alters my heartbeat, and I feel like I am having a heart attack. I moved out of the city into a rural community specifically to get away from this type of music.

I decided to take Lostine to my neighbor friend's house where I would be a bit further away from the noise pollution. I needed to talk to her, but she wasn't home. She said it's okay for me to ride at her place even if she's not home, so I lunged Lostine in my friend's huge round pen.

Lostine was out of her mind with fear because it had been many, many months since I had taken her to my neighbor's place. Bombay and Gabbrielle were galloping up and down the fence line calling out to her. My neighbor's horses couldn't care less that we were entering their space. Even the foals were totally relaxed with our visit. Lostine was the only horse that was out of control. Lucky me.

I just let her run and run to her heart's content. Eventually, she'd figure out that she wasn't getting anywhere and have to come to her senses and stop. She was blowing snorts and had her tail straight up in the air. If I had my camera, I would have filmed it and posted it here just to prove to everyone how much energy a 21-year-old horse can have when she's scared. However, my camera was in the horn bag tied to Lostine's saddle, and I couldn't stop her.

The picture above was taken after she finally did stop and I was able to retrieve my camera. She had that crazy look in her eye and had worked up quite a sweat. It started raining before I got the chance to mount her, so I led her back home. She instantly lowered her head and relaxed as soon as she knew we were headed for home. I find her behavior so silly considering that she spent the better years of her life living on that farm and most of the horses there are her offspring. She's afraid of her own daughters and granddaughters.

By the time we got home, it stopped raining enough for me to get a little ride in. I mainly wanted to cool her down before putting her out to pasture for lunch. By that time some other neighbor had probably reported the public disturbance, because the car stereo had been turned off.

Our house must have looked empty with most of our cars gone, so my nosy neighbor decided to take advantage of it and park herself in front of my house to do surveillance. She was out there for a half hour. She and her husband do this thing on a fairly regular basis in which they get into their car, drive onto my property, and then park there. Sometimes they get out and walk around slamming each door and the trunk of their car pretending like they are looking for something, perhaps checking to see if they packed everything. Other times they get out and just start walking around my pasture or on my front lawn pretending like they are picking up garbage or weeds. Much of the time they pull into my driveway or park blocking the end of my driveway, so that I can't get out if I need to.

Needless to say, it pisses me off because I've got NO TRESPASSING signs all over my property, and it's almost like they do it just because they get some kind of thrill out of breaking rules. The other thing that bothers me about this is why they must always park on my property when their own property is just a few yards away. Who gets into their car, drives to their next door neighbor's house, and sits in front of it for half an hour? Weirdos, that's who.

There is a turnout for neighbors who need to get their mail at the mailboxes, yet these neighbors will drive a good 50 yards away from the mailboxes, park in front of my house in the middle of the street so that they are blocking all other neighbors from being able to get up or down the street, and then walk all the way back to the mailboxes to get their mail, traipsing through my property the whole way.

Their parking and door slamming in my driveway and in front of my house also irritates me because when my dogs hear a vehicle on our property, they go nuts and start barking their heads off. During the week when I am in phone conferences, it is especially annoying, because I can't hear what's happening in the meeting and I have to mute my phone to avoid disrupting the meeting. My neighbors are so obnoxious that their inconsiderate and odd behavior affects my coworkers all the way over in the United Kingdom!

So, I decided I had to do something to deter this behavior. I grabbed my camera and went outside, and started taking pictures of their car parked in front of my house from every angle. I wanted my neighbor to see me doing this, because I wanted her to feel very uncomfortable. I wanted her to feel what I feel with her and her husband always studying me and my family under the eye of a microscope. I also wanted proof for the police should I ever file a stalking report. Once I got several good shots, I went back in the house and the woman drove off.

A short time later I saw her parking in front of my house in a different vehicle. Unfortunately, I was indisposed at the time and couldn't grab my camera again, so this second parking job is just going to have to go into my written logs. I have been keeping a diary of dates and times that these neighbors either trespass on my property or invade my privacy in other ways such as endless staring through the fence while I'm working in my yard, eavesdropping on our private conversations from behind our barn, or watching us through the windows of our house in the evening when our lights are on and our shades are still up. Here's one of the pictures I took from my front yard. See how she didn't even both to pull over to the right side of the road so that other cars could pass?

Another Change in Vacation Plans

Next week was the week that I had penciled in as the only possible week in June that I could take off from work. You may recall that I had set aside a week in mid-May to train Gabbrielle under saddle, but I had to cancel it due to my neighbor having a very loud and distracting house painting project going on. Memorial Day was the first holiday of the year in which I didn't have to work, so I mounted Gabbrielle for the first time then. However, I still need more time to continue her training, and next week was not shaping up to be ideal.

Thunderstorms were predicted to occur every afternoon for both this week and next week. I want to spend my vacation outdoors training my horse. I don't want to spend it hiding in the house from lightning, hail, and rain. I knew I had to come up with some solution to this problem. By canceling this vacation, I would have to wait until July to schedule another vacation. That's halfway through 2009. It's hard to work weekdays, evenings, some weekends, and most holidays for six months straight without a break, and quite frankly, I'm tired of waiting.

I decided to ask my boss for every Thursday off for the months of June and July. That way if bad weather or noisy neighbors ruin one Thursday, I'll always have the next Thursday to look forward to. I learned by the one Tuesday I took off in the middle of May and by getting Memorial Day off that all it takes is one day for me to feel rejuvenated. I can return to work without feeling like a stranger and having to get caught up, like I would after being MIA for a week.

My boss agreed with the clause that we will have to take it on a week-by-week basis since he may need me to work some Thursdays. I'm sure the company can live without me for one day a week, and I purposefully chose Thursdays for specific reasons. First of all, there are no meetings I am required to attend on Thursdays. Secondly, project deadlines always fall on Wednesdays, so I can have everything completed by Thursday. Thirdly, Thursday is the only day of the week that my equitation instructor is in my area.

I know that last year many of you urged me to get a new equitation instructor. The thing is that I don't have a whole lot of options in my area, and this is the only instructor who will come to me and save me the hassle of having to trailer out. I did learn a lot from him last year, despite some bumps in the road. If I trailer the horses too far, I have to get brand inspections for them, and some facilities require extra vaccinations and horseshoes. I have way more freedom working with this instructor. I don't plan on giving up my entire day off getting the horses in and out of the trailer and driving long distances. I want to leave some time in there to go fishing and do other activities with the kids while they are home for the summer.

On the other hand, if I do have time to trailer the horses out, this instructor will meet me wherever I want to go and work with us there. He's not restricted to a specific location. It really is a good deal for me since my main goal is to expose my horses to as many different environments as possible. My family members have their own schedules and can't always help me when I trailer the horses out.

I'll bet I could even talk him in to going on a trail ride with me. I don't know if he's interested in riding anymore, but being a health nut, I'm sure he wouldn't mind hiking beside me while I ride. He's a good conversationalist and I do enjoy his company. The other thing I like about this man is that he gives me his undivided attention during the hour that I'm paying for his services. I had one instructor in the past who spent half of my time slot talking on the phone, working with her employees, and training other horses while teaching me to ride. She was constantly multi-tasking and I never felt like I got my money's worth.

So, every Thursday is the current plan. I don't think that even I can be unlucky enough to have it rain every Thursday.

It's the Baby's Turn to Lose her Herd

Today was Gabbrielle's first day to be left behind when the other horses went to pasture. I figured she wouldn't handle it well, and I was right. As soon as I untied her, she took off at a gallop around the barn whinnying all the way. As she approached the 5-foot tall chain-link fence, I could see that she intended to jump it. I yelled, "WHOA!" and she slammed on her brakes, coming to a sliding stop and slamming her chest right into the fence. She looked at me with an annoyed expression as if to say, "You broke my concentration," and then took off on another lap to get up enough speed to jump the fence. Again I yelled, "WHOA!"

This scenario repeated itself several times until she gave up and just galloped or trotted along the fence line whinnying to her herd.

I offered her a flake of hay, but she wouldn't touch it.

Lostine was pacing the fence line back at the pasture.

Once she settled down, Bombay took over the job of worrying about Gabbrielle.

I climbed up onto the fence to try to reassure Gabbrielle that she was safe without her herd. She trotted up to me and lined her back up parallel to me and the fence, as if urging me to get on and ride. I told her I didn't think either of us was ready for bareback.

She calmed down as I stroked her mane, so I climbed off the fence and pulled up a chair to keep her company. I didn't want to leave until she started eating and stopped trying to jump the fence.

I finally got my wish.

As soon as I walked away to check on the horses in the pasture, Gabbrielle returned to frantically running up and down the fence line.

However, she did eventually settle into eating without me sitting beside her, and so did Bombay and Lostine.

Gabbrielle Under Saddle: Day 1

Memorial Day was a beautiful holiday here in Northern Nevada. I had made up my mind the evening before that I was going to ride 4-year-old Gabbrielle for the first time since she had done so well with her ground driving. The neighborhood was mostly quiet, save a dozen or so tourists who felt the need to honk repeatedly in short bursts out of the excitement of seeing someone riding a horse and every neighbor including us choosing Memorial Day morning to mow our lawns. The temperatures were perfect with no wind, no risk of dust devils sneaking up behind us, which has happened a lot lately. First I rode Lostine mainly to practice my own riding skills since Lostine is hyper-sensitive to every move I make in the saddle. Here's the view from her back...

While I was riding Lostine I sensed that someone was watching me. I looked over to see my neighbor standing on his doorstep staring at us. He looked like he wanted to do some construction out of his garage, but was hesitating since I was out riding. I contemplated asking him to give me one hour without any noise, so that I could train Gabbrielle under saddle.

The problem is that this man is mostly deaf, so it's very difficult to hold a conversation with him. He puttered about and opened his garage as if preparing to do some wood work. The horses are used to most of his activities and noises now, but there have been a few times where he dropped something heavy or set off the horn under the hood of his car, and even I jumped out of my skin. I didn't want anything happening to make Gabbrielle any more nervous than she'd be having a rider on her back for the first time.

After putting Lostine away I went in the house and told my husband I'd need him to hold Gabbrielle for me, so I could ride her, but first I had to tack her up, lunge her and ground-drive her. I told him I would come get him in 15 or 20 minutes. While I was tacking up Gabbrielle, my neighbor got in his truck and drove off, and I let out a sigh of relief. It's not easy training young horses when you live next door to a construction worker.

My husband came out right when I was still working on getting the bridle on Gabbrielle. I told him it would be a while, and he said he wanted to go to the ballpark with the kids. He decided to leave right then rather than to rush me with Gabbrielle's prep work, which I greatly appreciated. I did not want to have to mount a fresh horse that has never been ridden before without lunging her first.

While I was doing the ground work with Gabbrielle, the woman neighbor who eavesdrops and spies on me came out of her house to "walk" her dog behind my barn. All she does back there is let it pee on either my property or my friend's property and spy on me. She loitered back there a while and then moved onto her property and hid behind a car to watch me. I decided that when it came time to mount, I would ask her to either leave the vicinity or go back in her house. She could spy on me from her window all she wanted, but I didn't need her popping in and out of hiding places while I was trying to train Gabbrielle under saddle. Fortunately, she got bored and went back inside her house on her own accord. I've learned that if I stop talking to my horses while I work with them, then she doesn't have anything to eavesdrop on, and she eventually goes away.

I spent a while doing all the ground work I could think of, but my husband and kids still hadn't returned home from the ballpark. I got tired of waiting. I knew my horse breeder neighbor was home, probably watching me through her window, so I took a chance and swung myself into the saddle. Even though I sat down quietly, the extra weight shocked my horse a bit. She threw her head up and took a few steps forward. I said, "Whoa!" and she halted. I sat there a bit stroking her neck, patting her rump, wiggling the saddle, and then I dismounted. I made a point of keeping my weight over the center of her back and doing the world's slowest dismount. She held still for the entire process.

I got ready to mount a second time and something happened that spooked her. She jumped sideways while my foot was in the left stirrup, so I had to jump off the step stool and hop along next to her on the ground. That shook me up a bit, so I had to do some deep breathing exercises to get the extra adrenaline out of my system.

Some of you know that I have a neurological condition called an Essential Tremor, in which my head and hands shake all the time, even when I sleep. If I feel even slightly nervous, my entire body shakes uncontrollably. This is not a good condition to have when working with green horses, but working with horses is something I love to do, so I just try to push past it. My horses have to learn that I pretty much always have shaky nerves and it has nothing to do with them being in danger.

Just as I was about to make the third attempt at mounting, my husband and kids came home. My husband held the lead rope, which I kept tied around the saddle horn at the advice of a horse training book I am reading. The author says that if you tie the lead rope tight enough so that the hose can't get its head down to buck, but loose enough so that it can move freely in stride and to both sides, you can prevent the big bucks. Here comes the mount...




At first, I had my husband hold the lead rope, since we weren't sure how Gabbrielle would react to all that extra weight on her back while walking. I clucked my tongue and said "Walk!" without using my legs, and then my husband started walking and Gabbrielle followed. I then sat deep on my back pockets and said "Whoa!" while my husband stopped and Gabbrielle stopped. Soon Gabbrielle was responding before my husband, which was good. I wanted to train her -- not him.

When I'm riding, I would swear that my heels are lined up with my hips and shoulders, but when I see pictures of me riding, I realize that I need to become a contortionist...

Soon my husband released the lead rope and I took over the controls, but he still stayed within close range in case anything went wrong. When he first started walking Gabbrielle she tried to buck, but we both pulled her head up and let her know that was a no-no.

There were a couple of times when she started walking backwards despite me being light on the reins, so my husband grabbed the lead rope to stop her. He drove past the Mule Days Parade in Bishop, California on Saturday and saw some poor rider on a mule that was backing up, and the rider couldn't get it to stop. She was hollering at the people behind her to move out of the way, because she had no control of her mule.

We experienced three more spooks, but they were all spooks in place, which was nice. In one case, my husband started whistling to get my daughter's attention so that she would come outside to take pictures. Gabbrielle panicked a bit, not understanding what he wanted her to do, so she spooked and then started dancing around. In another case, I reached up to pat her on the side of the neck to praise her, and I guess my black gloved hand coming up from behind her scared her. In another case, I was adjusting the reins and one of them slapped her on the shoulder.

At one point, Gabbrielle stopped to poop. I stood and leaned forward in the stirrups even though you don't need to do that when they poop. On the next rotation she came to a complete stop in order to inspect the pile of manure. The lead rope caught her head and she started struggling. I tugged her head back up and urged her on. Here we are praising her for walking past the pile without stopping...

We only went as fast as a fast walk, because you have to give a young horse time to learn how to balance a rider on its back at the walk first. Carrying a rider at the trot is a whole different experience with the feeling of the rider bouncing and posting. I didn't want to overwhelm her.

While leading me around, my husband spotted the missing Chicago screw that fell off her halter a few days before. We decided to give Gabbrielle credit for finding it since she needed a lot of praise and encouragement.

Bombay kept unlatching the gate to the round pen and throwing it open with his nose, so we had to lock it. He did the same thing the night before when I was ground-driving Gabbrielle, and she actually tried to bust out the gate. I corrected her, and she decided to listen to me rather than to take part in Bombay's practical joke.

Here comes the dismount...


We were sure to reward her with plenty of carrots. I thought this day would never come. The gods were on my side, as all my neighbors stayed away, giving me the space and quiet I needed to get the job done. Whew!

Thanks goes out to my husband for keeping me safe, and to my daughter for taking the pictures.

Book Review: A Girl's Guide to Modern European Philosophy

When asked to review the novel, A Girl's Guide to Modern European Philosophy by singer, songwriter and playwright Charlotte Greig of Cardiff, Wales, I wasn't so sure it was something I would like. It sounded suspiciously like chick literature, and I worried there wouldn't be enough action. I need a plot to keep moving in order for it to hold my interest, and the cover photo with with girl lounging with a book in her hands didn't look too promising. Reading about someone else reading? I'm not so sure I've got the patience.

However, this novel turned out to be a pleasant surprise. No, it wasn't suspenseful and riveting like the genre I'm used to reading, but it was haunting enough to collect my attention. My criteria for whether a book is good is simply whether I find myself thinking about it when I'm busy doing other things and don't have the time to sit and read. I know a book is excellent when I stop everything I'm doing to read the next chapter. I did do that on several occasions with A Girl's Guide to Modern European Philosophy.

Susannah, a philosophy student at Sussex University during the 1970's, finds herself in the predicament of having two men in her life and one baby growing inside of her. She applies the words of philosophers to her dilemma in an effort to make some very important decisions. Her character is well conceived with that combination of innocence, confusion, and apathy that is common among young adults and teenagers who have yet to make big decisions, learn from them, and develop morals as a result.

The story is tightly woven with great dialog followed up with contradictory actions. In one scene, Rob, the less mature, more possessive and desperate sounding boyfriend, begs Susannah to stay with him. She sighs and says, "Oh, all right then. But I haven't got long."

Greig follows up that quote with, "We stayed in the common room for the rest of the afternoon, drinking coffees and smoking cigarettes and talking."

She portrays Susannah's ambivalence beautifully. There are moments when it is apparent that this character doesn't seem to have control over herself, none-the-less the world around her. Despite waking most mornings in a state of sheer terror and not coping well with her father's passing or her mother's inability to get on with life, she is amazingly out of touch with her own feelings. A fed-up bed partner has to push her to make an appointment at the university's health center to see a psychologist, which somehow derails into never happening.

The flakiness of the main character is in part what makes her so believable and fascinating. I am often left thinking, "I can't believe she would let someone do that to her or treat her that way."

Then I recall my younger years and say, "Oh yeah, actually, I can believe it."

The book is about discovering what one can believe in and rely on. It's about making decisions from both the perspectives of optimism and pessimism. It's about not thinking enough as well as over-thinking. It's about choosing in favor of one's self or someone else.

The symbolism of the blackened baby teeth in the beautiful ebony and stone-encrusted milk-teeth box, believed to belong to a Princess of Wales, was hard to miss. It was such a strange object for an author to weave throughout the storyline. Dead blackened teeth must be somewhat disgusting, yet somehow they seem more precious in such a nice box and with the promise that the teeth may have belonged to somebody famous and could be very valuable.

Susannah's older boyfriend is an antique dealer, a business that depends on perceived value, and the main characters are all trying to discover what they value more when faced with difficult decisions. I love a book that is so tight that the reader can see how everything connects. Nothing is sloppy, extraneous or out of place. I look forward to reading more books by Charlotte Greig.

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Cutting the Herd Cord

This picture is from last weekend's rodeo.

If you search for the word "herd-bound" in Google, you get one million results. If you search for the phrase "herd bound horse", you get 643,000 results while "herd bound horses" get 52,800 results. Obviously, herd-bound behavior must be a problem for people, otherwise there wouldn't be so much information out there on the subject.

I had planned to dedicate most of this 3-day holiday weekend to helping my horses get past their herd-bound behaviors. I couldn't get much riding in, because my husband, kids, and friendly neighbor were all out of town. If I got hurt, I could always call 911 from my cell phone, unless I'm unconscious. I know a lot of people who risk riding alone, but I'm very unlucky. The few times I have tried riding when no one was around, my horses decided to give me a bronc ride instead of a nice ride. I've learned my lesson, and don't take those risks anymore.

I'm working on the herd-bound behaviors in baby steps in order to avoid as much damage as possible. The horses don't only tear up the pasture grass when one of them isn't nearby, but they risk breaking their legs by galloping around on chunky, uneven ground with mole tunnels. If I thought they couldn't get hurt in their panic, I'd speed up the separation process.

Previously this spring, they only experienced being separated for a few minutes as we walked them out to pasture in shifts. Still that was enough to leave them completely unglued. I can trailer one horse off for a ride, and the other two settle down pretty quickly, but the angst they feel over other horses going to pasture to get that yummy grass without them amplifies their herd-bound behavior.

Today I tied Bombay in the paddock and Lostine in the round pen while I walked Gabbrielle up and down the street for some lead line training. I had to go back to square one with halting her each time she pulled on the lead rope and then backing her up by tapping her legs with a stick and saying, "Back!" Once she stopped pulling, I rewarded her by putting her out to pasture. Of course, she went nuts as soon as I removed her halter.

Originally, I was thinking I would just leave her out there until she settles down, but I worried about her breaking a leg. I'd rather have a single horse galloping in the flat, sandy paddock than a single horse galloping in the uneven, chunky pasture. So, I led Bombay out to Gabbrielle, and the two of them settled down. They were still whinnying for Lostine, but at least Gabbrielle stopped galloping.

I knew I had to stop Lostine from whinnying to get the best effect. Since she is the alpha mare, her calls are especially alarming to the herd. So, I fed her a nice, big flake of hay in the paddock, and she immediately lost interest in what her herd mates were doing out at pasture. Everyone then settled into eating with only a few horse calls here and there. Bombay paced a lot, but he'll pay for that later when he gets hungry and realizes he should have grazed more.

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The other day I was running around the house like a chicken with my head cut off trying to fight a dozen fires at one time. I was supposed to be working at my desk, but I was also hand-watering outside, doing multiple loads of laundry, answering the phone, picking up the mail, paying bills, answering emails, making lunch, letting the dogs in and out, and cleaning stalls all at the same time.

I remember moving a rake into the spa room in case it rained. There wasn't enough room to put the rake in the tool organizer and I had a dozen other things competing for my attention, so I just leaned the rake up against the organizer thinking, "I'll deal with this later. I don't have time to reorganize the organizer right now."

I also remember having the fleeting thought that I should find a better place for it soon or someone will step on the rake and the handle will fly up and hit them in the face. However, I literally could not find a better place for it at that moment and had to move on to tackling other problems and chores.

So, this morning I was in the middle of doing a deep cleaning of the water troughs when I walked over to the tool organizer to get the scrub broom. As I reached for it, I stepped on the rake and the handle flew up and hit me in the face, knocking my two front teeth loose and giving me a big, fat bloody lip.

There just aren't enough hours in the day for me to deal with every problem that presents itself to me. Literally, every time I make a move, I create more problems that I have to solve. It snowballs out of control so fast, and I have to start prioritizing which problems are the most serious and need my attention immediately. Even when I am fighting fires, whether literal or figurative, I find myself multi-tasking. It seems that all hell always has to break loose at once. If the universe could just serve me one problem at a time, I could handle it, but for me, everything has to happen simultaneously for some mysterious reason.

I know there is some lesson I'm supposed to learn in all of this, but I have never figured it out. There's no such thing as taking one thing at a time when everything is an emergency. If a doctor and nurse in a trauma unit get six patients coming in the door all at once, they have to deal with all six of those patients. They can't just put a few of them off until tomorrow. Of course, they do perform triage to determine priorities, but they still have to treat all six patients as fast as they can. That's kind of what my life is like on most days.

I can't seem to do the simplest things without something going wrong. I have a saying that I blurt out to the universe every time some simple task turns into a fiasco. I say, "I'm not asking for a miracle -- I just want to..."

A lot of the times I finish up the sentence with something like, "...eat" or "...sleep" or "...go to the bathroom" or "...push a button and have it respond" or "...pick something up without dropping it 20 times" or "...walk without getting injured."

A number of lousy things happened to me throughout the morning, but the rake in the face took the cake. When those one-in-a-million type accidents happen to me in spurts, I take them as omens that something really bad is about to happen, and I should lay low for a while. 23 years ago I had a day like that and every bone in my body was telling me to climb back into bed and not get out until we had a new day. However, I ignored the omens, went out on the town with my friend, and we got into a car accident that left me with memory problems ever since. A day doesn't go by when I don't wish I didn't get in that car.

So, today I didn't want to do anything, but I also knew I had to push past my superstitions or the day would be wasted. So, I risked doing the lead line training and splitting up the herd on my own. Fortunately, nothing bad came out of it, because I was cautious and took it slow. As the day wore on, my teeth tightened back up and my fat lip receded.

When my family returned from their trip, they reported that they saw two major car wrecks that appeared to have fatalities along the way. I had made up my mind on Saturday that I wouldn't go back out on the road. In just the 20 minutes that I drove around looking for Chicago screws, I had several tourists with out-of-state plates pull illegal U-turns right in front of me from off the shoulder of the road in the busiest intersections in town, and I had to slam on my brakes to avoid ramming into them. I don't know why people never seem to see me. I drive red cars and keep the headlights on day and night. There must be something in the air and it's not even a full moon.

Things are a bit Screwy

One of the things I love about Gabbrielle is her level head. When I am training her and something goes wrong, her response is to stop, hold still, and wait for me to fix it. If a lunge line gets tangled in her legs or around her neck, she just stops and waits. It's wonderful.

Last night I was ground driving her in the bit and surcingle. I asked her to trot, but instead she stopped. I walked around to the side to see what was going on, and I found that one of the Chicago screws that held her bit to her bridle had fallen out. The bit and bridle were hanging around her poll. She knew something wasn't right, so she planted her feet and waited for me to fix it.

Unfortunately, I didn't have any more screws, so I had to dismantle her tack and call it a day. My family went on a Chicago screw hunt in the round pen with me, but it was nowhere to be found. My son even got out his magnets and dragged them along the ground in hopes of picking up the screw. All he got was a lot of iron. The kids were fascinated by that. I told them that picking up iron out of the dirt with magnets was how I entertained myself during my childhood. This was a first for them.

So, it's looking like I'll be spending part of my weekend searching the local hardware store. If worse comes to worse, I'll poke another hole in the bridle and use a leather tie. It's looking like I might not get much riding in over the 3-day weekend because my next door neighbors appear to be setting up for a yard sale, which means lots more foot and vehicle traffic. I'll have to trailer the horses out of the neighborhood to get some peace and quiet.

On another note, we took the horses out to pasture today without any problems at all. Go figure.

Bad Day for the Pasture

I took the horses out to pasture because we are getting low on hay and the grass is getting mighty long. This was not a lesson in herd separation. I simply wanted them to eat. I did remember to tie the one horse that was left behind in the paddock while we were in the process of moving three horses with two handlers, but there is no safe place to tie the horses that are released in the pasture. The fencing is vinyl and the posts are not set in concrete. I'll probably have to install a tying post there since the two horses I released to pasture started galloping around and bucking while waiting for the third horse to arrive.

Once all three were delivered to pasture and settled, I went in the house. Just a few minutes later I heard the most bone-chilling screaming coming from one of my horses. It was unlike any horse sound I have ever heard. I imagined that one of the horses got severely injured, and I busted out the front door as fast as I could. My body could barely keep up with my feet, so I was tripping and stumbling all the way out to the pasture.

I looked up to see a man on a motorcycle driving off my property away from my pasture fence. Apparently, he thought it would be a good idea to drive his noisy hog right up to the horses to pet them, but was taken by surprise when they went berserk. Lostine was galloping in circles and doing all the screaming. Bombay was doing the bunny hop right behind her, and Gabbrielle was just kind of wandering around trying to avoid getting plowed down by the two more excited horses.

I tried to get them to slow down with whoas in a low, calm, but firm voice, but they were out of their minds and totally ignoring me. Lostine tripped and fell several times. She was creating divots by galloping around, and then stepping in them and stumbling. I could see a broken leg on the horizon, so I ran for the grain buckets. That seemed to be the only thing that could get their attention and get them to stop.

It worked. They settled into eating and I walked away again, only to have the boarders next door come riding their horses up the street, which got my horses all riled up again. They left their grain and started galloping around whinnying. Once the mounted horses were gone, my pastured horses returned to their buckets. Then a hot rod with a souped up engine came roaring up the street and set them off again. That driver realized his mistake and drove much slower on his return trip.

Then a truck hauling a trailer loaded with horses pulled out of my neighbors' place, and the ruckus started again. Once it was gone, they returned to the grain. Then a veterinarian driving a truck showed up, and somehow the horses knew that he was going to the neighbor's house to see their horse friends, and they got excited again.

The silly thing about all of this is that I had waited until the house painters next door packed up their equipment and left before taking the horses to pasture. I knew the loud crashing would scare the horses. However, it didn't matter. Today was just one of those days when there was more activity in the neighborhood than I could control. I know the horses will get used to it and settle down eventually, and I know this is all a part of their exposure training, but that poor pasture is ripped to shreds now.

Despite having all that green grass inside the fence, Lostine wouldn't eat any of it. She just paced the fence line and stuck her head under the fence to reach for whatever was on the other side. I'm not sure what she was so attached to back at the barn that would prevent her from eating, unless she is now herd-bound to the neighbors' horses too.

Bringing the horses back to the paddock wasn't much fun either, as every neighbor within eyesight decided that very second would be a good time to get in their cars and drive. They were driving up and down the street, pulling into and out of the mailbox turnout, which is right up against my pasture, pulling in and out of driveways. It was bizarre. I mean, how many minutes are there in a day, and what are the chances that every one of them would get in their cars and drive the very minute that I am bringing my horses out from pasture?

I said to my daughter, "I think this is officially the busiest day in the history of this neighborhood."

There was a lot of bolting and spooking on the end of the lead ropes going on. Gabbrielle then completely froze up and wouldn't move forward because I left Bombay back at the pasture and he was calling out to her. I had to put on my mean face to get her to move forward. It was kind of like trying to lead a herd of horses through a fire or a violent thunderstorm, yet it was a perfectly clear, calm, beautiful day. Once the horses get the grass acclimated into their diets, I think I'm just going to turnout one horse to pasture per day, and let them rip up that grass and scream all they want until they learn that independence isn't such a bad thing, nor is all the activity that goes on around them in the neighborhood.

They were actually settling down for a while there, but I couldn't keep up the routine of taking them to pasture because of one thing or another getting in the way. Either I had an appointment and didn't have the time, or I needed to water the pasture, or the house painters were especially noisy that day, or I couldn't pry myself away from my job for a few minutes to take care of it. That small gap of time was enough for force me to have to start all over in breaking their herd-bound behaviors.

Tips for Buying a Car

I've been noticing that despite the recession, a lot of new cars with temporary plates are popping up all over the place. I see a lot of people buying high-end luxury cars. I've never seen so many Mercedes Benzs, Audis, Lexuses, and BMWs in these parts. This used to be pickup truck country.

I suspect these new car buyers are getting the kind of deals I recently found on our STS. Here are some tips to help you get the best deal on a new car:

1. Use the Internet to your advantage. Compare prices for the same car and package among dealerships within a 100-mile radius. You'd be surprised in the difference between the prices at a big city dealership vs. a small town dealership. Research dealership inventories to see who has the right combination of price, package, and color that you want.

2. Make a list of what is important to you. For us, it was seat comfort, gas mileage, 4WD or AWD availability, horsepower, and reliability. You can actually do a search on some websites for what your requirements are in a vehicle, and the results will provide you with a list of vehicles that are the best match.

3. Always read reviews of the vehicles that interest you. Especially helpful are the reviews written by customers who bought the car. There will always be a complainer in the crowd, so you just have to decide whether what the complaints are matter to you.

4. Research how many safety recalls the vehicle has had since it was released. If it is an entirely new model, research whatever model has been out a while that is closest to it. Your time is too valuable to be wasting it sitting in a shop every few months while the dealer repairs problems that the manufacturer caused.

5. Be aware that the more electronic features that the car has, the more things there are that can go wrong. Many new luxury cars come with tire pressure monitors. These may seem handy at first glance, but the reality is that they run on batteries and when those batteries die, you have to replace the entire monitor within the stem valve of the tire. With there being four tires on the car, chances are that at least one of these tire pressure monitors is going to be inoperable at any given time. We actually bought our new Cadillac knowing that one of the tire pressure monitors was not working. A big orange warning that says, "Tire pressure monitor" appears on the dashboard. It's not worth it to go into the dealership every few months to fix that, so we are just letting the batteries die and ignoring the dashboard warning. We like to check our tire pressure the old fashioned way.

6. Look for barely used cars with less than 25,000 miles on them and a reliable history report. Because we are in a recession, lots of people bought new cars, took really good care of them, and then lost their jobs and had to have their car repossessed or had to trade it in for something less expensive. Since new cars lose such a huge chunk of their value the second you drive them off the lot, it makes sense to look at used cars. They will be selling much closer to their real value.

7. If looking for a new car, look for leftovers from the previous year. Dealers are eager to move older cars off their lots in order to make room for newer cars, and more willing to make special deals. The longer these cars sit on their lots, the more likely that the batteries will die. It's kind of hard to sell a car to someone when they can't even start the engine for a test drive. I've had that happen to me, and I took it as a superstitious sign that it wasn't the right car for me even though they could get it started by jumping the battery. Of course, if the battery does die, the dealer will replace it if you agree to buy it, but the bad experience scares off a lot of people.

8. Never accept the first offer when haggling to buy a car. Give reasons for why you think the dealer should come down on his price. Some dealers will send you packing, but others are more than willing to work with you as long as your expectations are reasonable. In our case, the car had a deep scratch in the front fender and the tire pressure monitor was malfunctioning. We weren't going to pay full price for that.

9. Cars sitting on dealer lots often get nicks, scratches and dents. Don't let that prevent you from trying to buy the car. Many dealers will throw in some free body work to repair the problem. Take a look at the picture at the top of this post. That car had a scratch in the front fender when we bought it. That is how it looks now... better than new. The body shop did such a great job of repainting and buffing it, that it looks like it is fresh off the assembly line rather than like it had been sitting around in a lot of a year and having multiple customers test driving it.

10. Lastly, if you don't like your salesman because he's got slime dripping off his fingertips, find out his work schedule and come back on a day when he's off. Don't tell the next salesman that you visited the lot previously, because he might try to call in the slimy guy who worked with you before in order to respect his commission. Just work with someone you feel comfortable with. You will be spending the next several hours with this person should you decide to purchase a car, and you will also be speaking with him in the months following your purchase, so you may as well work with someone whose company you enjoy. A salesman can make or break your car buying experience and affect your attitude toward that car for all the years ahead that you drive it.

Coat Rack Creativity

I went out to the barn to clean stalls in the evening. It looked cool outside, so I put on a jacket. After cleaning one stall I found myself overheated, removed my jacket and looked around for something to hang it on. Nothing. I couldn't find anything that would keep my jacket off the ground.

Then I looked at the horses and realized that I had three very talented coat racks right in front of me. I hung my coat over Lostine's withers and told her to take care of it for me. Gabbrielle got so excited over this new toy, but Lostine wouldn't let her near it. Each time Gabbrielle tried to sniff my jacket, Lostine pinned her ears back and chased her off, careful to keep the jacket perched on her back.

I knew Gabbrielle was jealous that I chose Lostine for the job, so I gave Gabbrielle the responsibility of balancing my coat for a while. She sniffed it, but left it where I laid it over her back. Then Bombay walked up, yanked my jacket off Gabbrielle's back by the sleeve and began swinging it in circles with his teeth. I hollered at him, and he dropped it in a pile of manure.

I picked it up and threw it over Bombay's back, and within seconds he was swinging it like a helicopter rotor above his head. I took it away before he could drop it in a pile of manure again, and put it back onto Lostine's back, where it stayed safely until I was ready to go inside. I hope I remember to wash that jacket before I need to wear it again. :0

Rodeo Weekend

My daughter and I stopped by a local rodeo this past weekend, so I thought I'd share some photos. Here's a really cool painting on the side of a truck. I love how the image goes up into the window...

The place was packed like a sardine can filled with horses and riders. Note the paramedics on call. Turns out they were needed, as you will see later on...

The grandstands were full. They also swallowed my sunglasses. I dropped my sunglasses, and of course they had to slip through the tiny crack at my feet. My daughter ended up taking a lot of the pictures while I hunted around for a way to get under the bleachers to retrieve my shades...

I'm always fascinated with the techniques that are used in calf roping...

This is the cowboy who took my daughter to their senior prom last year...

These cowgirls blew me away with how they threw themselves off their horses at a full gallop or during a sliding stop. They can dismount on the left or right, whichever side the goat happens to be on...


More action shots...



The rodeo clowns did a great job. One of them almost got skewered when a bull zoned in on him and chased him all the way to the end of the arena...

It turns out their help was really needed. A bull stomped on this guy's leg after he fell...

Here everyone is carrying him out to the paramedics...

Still people kept getting on those bulls...

...and roping those calves...

Injuries are all a part of the game.

This guy almost didn't make it out of the gate, because his bull kept bucking in the chute, and almost climbed right up over the railing onto the bull in the chute next door...

In the end, all the calves were put away and nothing was left behind but a cloud of dust...

Yeehaw!