Let's Stop And Smell the Flowers

The Right Place at the Right Time

The girls are barefoot and frisky now that Spring has officially arrived. Our daffodils and forsythia are in full bloom, and the brown lawn magically turned emerald green overnight on Wednesday. All it took was a couple of warm days and some rain to flip on the growing switch.

A week ago, Silk gave me a scare. I came out at dinner time and she could hardly move her back legs. I had Johnny, our farrier, swing by in the morning to check if there were any abscesses, but he couldn’t find anything. He said she was moving more like she was 33 than 23. He suggested that it might be scratches. In the thirteen years that I’ve owned Silk, we’ve never had scratches or mud rot. On Sunday, when I was buying hay, I was lamenting to one of the farmers about Silk’s problem. “Don’t read too much into this, Victoria,” he said, “Sometimes, you’re just old.” True but I had to do something. I am a miserable, anxious wreck when SIlk isn't feeling good.

I recalled that JME posted a great explanation of what to do, so I consulted her. She recommended washing the legs with warm water, but not pulling off any of the the mud that was too crusted to fall off. Then, she said I should wrap both legs with Animalintex that I wet lightly with warm water and then use vet wrap to secure it for 12 hours. Then, wrap dry Animalintex around both legs for another 12 hours. I am happy to report that it worked perfectly. Silk tooling around just fine, back to her usual routine.

After Johnny came back this morning, trimmed the girls and removed their winter shoes, Silk was certainly not acting like she was a senior horse. We decided to leave them barefoot for now, and I’m hoping that I can pick up the rocks in the pasture often enough to let them stay that way for the summer. Since he’s been doing their feet for the last six months, I am so pleased by how much better they look and feel.

As I opened the pasture gate to let Johnny pull out in his truck, my husband called me from the driveway to help him lift an old sofa that we are taking to the dump. Once we got it into our car, I went back to the barn and let the horses back out into the pasture. I was standing next to our car, talking to my husband when Siete came charging out into the driveway, heading up towards the road. Freedom! Her mother pranced out right behind her. Luckily, some luscious grass tempted them to stop. My husband and I casually strolled over to them and each grabbed a horse by her halter. They weren’t happy that we were leading them back to captivity, but they didn’t resist.

The gods were smiling on us that my husband was home and that we both happened to be in the right place at the right time. Once I got the gate securely fastened, my heart started beating again. That was a close one.

Shedding Time

Now that the air is full of promise and a hint of warmth, the horses have come alive again. Each morning, when I feed the girls and open the doors to their stalls, I hesitate before I swing Siete’s door open. In the past, I’ve tried to train her not to rush out like a bullet train into the pasture. What’s different this year is that some days, she is still full of exuberance, but other times, she just strolls casually past me to check out the new day. I’ve become more accepting and amused by the times that she revs up and dances wildly as the sun rises. I kind of feel that way myself on the mornings that she does it.

The horses are literally shedding away the winter blues. I’ve brushed huge amounts of fur off of them, joking that I could make a sweater with it. Silk has gained weight so I’m no longer worried about her. Siete and I are another story. We’re both on diets. I started us on a strict regime last Friday. My little horse is not happy about it, but I am personally feeling so much lighter and better already. For the past year, I’ve pretty much eaten whatever I want, and I’ve added some inches to my girth. In the winter, my bones began aching, culminating when I threw out my back during all the digging after the flooding. Recently, in a not so subtle way, the Universe started sending me messages everywhere I turned about how bad too much sugar and starch are for our bodies. I decided to cut them out of my diet for a couple of weeks and see if it made a difference. It was much harder than I thought.

On the first day, my neighbor was giving me a ride down to the garage where my car was being repaired. As I opened the door on the passenger side, I found a huge platter of warm-from-the oven brownies on my seat. She offered me one, and I explained that I was on a diet. Then, my neighbor asked me to hold the plate on my lap as she drove because she was afraid the brownies would spill all over the backseat if we put them there. Smelling that sweet chocolate for ten minutes was torture. Yet, it certainly strengthened my resolve. I thought it would be pathetic to not even be able to make it through one day without sugar and starch. So, I resisted temptation.

After five days, I am amazed at how much better I feel. No aching bones, no regrets, and a stronger resolve to keep my horse on her diet too. It’s difficult not to give in to Siete’s begging for more hay and food. She’s very cute and smart about pushing my buttons. I started reading Geneen Roth’s book, “Women, Food and God”. She is a tough teacher, and I’m really looking at how I use food to comfort myself when things get scary and hard. "The relationship with food is a direct path to coming home after a lifetime of being exiled.” What an interesting thought. It forces me to consider whether I want to give in to self-indulgence and all the health risks that result from automatically reaching for that fresh baked brownie.

Eternal Optimism

Yesterday must have been a bad dream. On Sunday, I was out in the yard wearing a t-shirt, loving the budding of Spring. By 10 am, the very next day, the ground was covered with yet another depressingly white blanket, and all signs of green were gone. Miraculously, this morning, as I opened the back door to go out and feed the horses, there wasn’t a hint of winter. All the snow disappeared overnight, as if I had imagined it. Only I didn’t, and here are the pictures to prove it.

The horses didn’t enjoy the interruption of the rites of Spring either. Silk stayed in her stall all day, giving me that sad-eyed look, resigned to her fate. Her daughter was just plain grumpy. Siete would take a quick turn around the pasture every few hours with her tail flagged up high, snorting like a dragon. She’s as done with mud and snow as I am. Each time I watched her prancing and tossing her head, I thought that’s exactly how I feel.

On top of the bad weather, I threw out my back last week. It was definitely my body’s way of telling me to stop stressing and cleaning up after all the flooding. So, I’ve been forced to slow down and take a few days to contemplate my life. It appears to me that the state of my small piece of land is a mirror for how I am feeling. We’ve both survived a rough patch. The barn is splattered with mud and needs a thorough cleaning. So do I, and a diet and a new haircut are mandatory. The corral must be dug out and new footing needs to be brought in and properly graded. I’m personally digging into my business persona and refreshing my presentation and goals. After hibernating for all these months, I’m ready to emerge like Persephone and start to open up in new and exciting ways.

Today, it’s horsey spa day. The girls are going to get cleaned up with the shedding blade. I’ll put all the fur from their winter coats out behind the barn for the mama birds to use to build their nests. With warm water from the hose, those white socks on both horses’ feet will be revived for at least a few minutes before they run through the mud and blacken them again. The chorus of bad weather predictors are chanting that we’re getting more snow tomorrow night. Still, seeing the sun shining right now and listening to the birds chirp, I’m reassured that these last little hiccups of winter will soon be over.

Just like the little green sprouts didn’t freeze and wilt under that unexpected onslaught of snow yesterday, I’m not going to let the obstacles that fall in my path keep me from coming into flower. Years ago, a friend gave me a lovely old French ceramic tile that says “joie de vivre”. It sits on our mantelpiece and as I noticed it this morning, hobbling down the stairs with my sore back, I decided that it will be my new mantra.

In These Dark Days

Once again, my days and nights are occupied battling against the elements of Nature. We had torrential rain on Sunday and Monday that flooded my hay storage and Siete’s stall, among other places in our house and garage. I am tired of blogging about the weather, but it is my constant nemesis these last three months. Last night and this morning, we’re getting a few more inches of rain and everything that flooded earlier in the week is flooding again.

The horses have been taking it very well. Siete spent one night sharing a stall with her mother before I was able to dump enough wood pellets into hers to soak up most of the water. It still bubbles up when she steps in the front, but there’s a dry area in the back where she can stand. After a night with mom, she opted for coming back to her own space. Last night, I listened to the wind and rain fiercely pounding and I feared for the worst this morning. Miraculously, she’s still got this dry spot where I can feed her and she can keep her feet from getting wet, but now I have to figure out how to get her out and into Silk’s stall again. The front corral is a lake and it is continuing to pour down. It continues to challenge my coping skills.

Each time I’ve come back into the house to take a break over the last few days, I’ve been presented with unexpected examples of a disturbing topic. First, my daughter came home from high school eager to talk to me about the problem of dating violence. She isn’t involved, thank heavens, in this horrible situation, but apparently some young women in her school are. They have had the courage to come forward to talk about it, and my daughter applauded their bravery. Then, I received an email from a friend with a news story about an 11-year old girl in Texas who was gang raped by 18 young men, including high school star athletes. Yesterday, another friend sent me a link to a presentation at one of the TEDx conferences by Chameli Ardagh called “The Fierce Face of the Feminine”. It’s a very compelling argument about how women must use their power to protect the children of the world. She points out that each day all over the world, there are more and more children whose lives are in danger and who are afraid to go to sleep at night.

As you know, I try to stay away from discussing politics and events of upheaval in the world. You also probably have noticed, through the years of owning Silk and Siete, I have come to appreciate the temperament and characteristics of my mares and other female creatures and learned a lot about the power of the feminine. And coincidentally, Wednesday was International Women's Day. So, I feel a strong need this week, as Mother Nature continues to rage around me, to urge women to take hold of their power and teach their daughters how to use it to make the world a safer place for our children. It might appear that as mere individuals, we are not able to stop the horrors of acts of violence and war. Yet every day, in how we relate to what goes on right here around us, there are opportunities for every woman to find her own power and take a stand against what we know in our hearts is not good for us or our children. From one drop of consciousness and action, there can be an enormous ripple.

Here’s the link to Chameli Ardagh’s talk: “The Fierce Face of the Feminine”

The White Blanket

The white blanket on our pasture is getting lower to the ground, but there’s still a lot of ice and snow before you hit grass. At the worst, it was actually almost reaching the top rail of the fence but slowly it’s melting, inch by inch.

I was gone for about five hours yesterday, visiting my mom and going to the grocery store. My husband was supposed to throw a couple of flakes of hay to the horses, but he got busy and forgot. So, when I came home, Silk was standing at the gate of the corral watching anxiously for my arrival. I didn’t see Siete until I walked up to Silk with some hay. There was my little horse, standing at the far corner of the pasture, four hooves on top of the snow like an ornament on a birthday cake. I called her to come get some hay. She was still as a statue.

I realized, oh my god, she's stuck, so I headed inside to put on my boots. My husband beat me to it, feeling guilty that he forgot to feed the girls. He grabbed a halter and lead rope and ventured out to rescue Siete. Each step, he sunk into the snow almost to his knees. When he reached Siete, she started shaking her head wildly. He petted her and whispered something in her ear. Did I mention that Siete is his girlfriend? She let him put on the halter and lead rope without any fuss.

I stood at the gate, worried that she would drag him but she wasn’t going to budge. Finally, he calmly and gently coaxed her to follow him. She took two steps on top of the ice and then, whoosh! Siete’s feet dropped into a soft spot in the snow, and she sank about a foot. After that, she was afraid to lift her leg again. I don’t know how he convinced her to try, but step by step, my husband patiently dragged the horse at a snail's pace across the white blanket. At the edge, where the snow ended and the small “runway” was cleared except for ice and mud, Siete started leaning on him like she couldn’t bear to take another step.

I was afraid she was going to explode as soon as she hit terra firma, but she waited until he unclipped the lead rope and stepped out of the way. Then, she took off running into the barn. Safe in her stall, Siete bucked and bucked and bucked and bucked. Then, she whinnied very loud at us. It was quite clear what she had to say about the whole experience.

I offered her a carrot to calm her rattled nerves, and I served dinner early to the girls. This morning, when I opened the stall door, Siete poked her head out and tossed her nose in the direction of the white blanket. I reminded her that there was nothing but trouble out there for her. She’s a smart little horse, so she stood at the edge of the snow for a long time today without lifting a hoof in that direction.

Soon, little darling, soon. Spring is right around the corner.

What Do the Trees Say?

The wind is howling through the trees again today. This winter, I have been very aware of the forest that hugs the back of our land. I often think that it rests an arm around us to keep us safe. The last six weeks have been all about the forces of nature here. We’ve had snow beyond our wildest dreams, followed by ice and power outages. At one point, the branches of the trees were coated with ice. When I walked out to the barn late one night to give the horses more hay, the forest was cracking and rattling and making so much noise. The trees were talking. The next morning, the wind was softer, and the conversation was more like a whisper.

The horses have had a really hard time, not being able to run at all or even walk very far into the pasture. The snow was almost as high as the fences. As everything melted, the ground that was cleared turned to ice. Silk slipped and almost fell a couple of times, so she’s sticking close to the barn. I am so thankful that both of the girls have remained in good spirits and are taking this all in stride. Every time I get cranky or frustrated, I go out and spend a few moments with them to restore my equilibrium.

It was so warm the last few days that I was finally able to take off the horses’ blankets. I was shocked. For the first time, Silk looked old to me. She seems frail, and we will have to work to get her back in shape when the snow is gone. I can’t believe that she will be 23 in April. Yesterday, as I brushed her, I was thinking back on all the cycles of all the seasons that we have been together. So much has happened in 13 years.

I am feeling that the lessons I have learned in my life keep circling back to make me go deeper and see more each time I face them. Watching the birds and the animals get through this difficult winter reminds me that no matter how great the challenges are, it’s our spirit and our will to live that helps us find the strength to move forward.

Looking around at all the political turmoil in our country and around the world, I am witnessing cycles of change that are much larger and have a greater impact than what’s happening in my small universe. Some are uplifting and some are frightening, but all are beyond my control. Yet, if we can only stay true to our own compass, treating everyone around us with kindness and doing what we can, we will collectively improve this tired old earth. I am constantly aware of all the bright, good people that come in and out of my life each day, making a difference even when things get really tough.

Listening to the wind this morning, resilience is the song that the trees are singing to me.