Friday, January 1, 2016
A Window in Time
New Year's Eve was its usual fiasco with firecrackers and fireworks being popped off and shot off from dusk until dawn. My anxiety-ridden Corgi Midge got her sedative, and thankfully she wasn't as destructive this year as she's been in years past, because she's beginning to go deaf. At one point I walked out onto my porch and could see fireworks all along the horizon. Apparently, private citizens are allowed to put on those light displays, because all of my neighbors seemed to be doing it, and the air stunk of fire and smoke. I didn't spend more than a minute out there, because I feared I might get hit by a stray bullet. I'm living in the wild west here. There are no rules. Or at least there are no rules being enforced.
After a week of dealing with the 800-pound gorillas in the neighborhood, the go-kart family finally put a lid on it, and the race car driver hauled his car off to a race. The timing couldn't have been better, because today was a beautiful day for horseback riding, and it's supposed to rain all next week, which means I've only got a small window of time to work with the horses before my nemesis Mud makes another appearance.
However, Gabbrielle made it clear to me that she was shell-shocked from the previous night's fireworks, and she was unable to get her head in the game.
The other day I received an inquiry regarding Bombay. The lady wanted to know if he had "no spook". I wanted to tell her she needs to look at a completely different breed if she wants no spook, but I didn't want to be breedist. I told her he does spook, and I never heard from her again.
I find it fascinating that I now have both a 10-year-old mare with looks to die for and a 17-year-old gelding who looks like he's seen more years than that up for sale for the same price, and so far people have only shown an interest in Bombay. I guess the lesson is that mares only sell around here to breeders, and they have to be younger than 10. The market in my area is mostly buyers who are of retirement age, looking for dead-broke geldings to ride on the trails.
In this next picture you can see my Garmin fitness watch. It's amazing how many calories you burn just by spinning in circles in the center of a round pen.
Then there's Rock...
As usual, he was a pain in the butt to lunge, because he kept stopping to pose for pictures. I'm sure I burned the most calories working with Rock, but I screwed up turning on my fitness watch, so the data never got recorded. My prescription sunglasses with the reading component can't get here soon enough.
Lostine was perfect, as always...