A dream fulfilled

A cross post from my Green Slobber horse blog:

The girls and I visited my mom and stepdad in their beautiful California cabin this summer...10 days of pure bliss! We spent four of those days in the mountains, camping with the horses and trail riding. It has always been a dream of mine to ride in the mountains and I can now say it was everything I had hoped it would be and more. Kayleigh had a blast and led a few of our trail rides. I was a little concerned about her on some of the steeper trails as we don't really have many places in the Midwest that make the horses sit on their butts on the way down! I shouldn't have worried...she rode 'em like a pro.
My mom and Kayleigh, leading the way. We were camping near Truckee, Calif., which is pretty near where the infamous Donner party engaged in cannibalism.
Kayleigh absolutely loved being our trail boss. See her new chinks? She LOVES them! While we were out and about in the mountains they got a few scratches from the trees. She came up with a great story to tell back at camp about how a mountain lion jumped out and attacked her, the chinks protected her and Cheyenne (her horse) galloped up the mountain to save her life. She's quite the storyteller.
The views were incredible. My mom kept apologizing for the skies being so smoky from all the wildfires, but they looked pretty darn clear and blue to me. Guess I'm so used to the humidity haze around here those California mountains skies were stunning.
At the top. Amazing, isn't it? Not a soul or a bit of civilization in sight. LOVE IT!
The view I woke to every morning on that camping trip. I could live with a view like that for the rest of my life.

New Blog

I don't want this "family" blog to become a horse training blog, and I was a bit afraid it would. I don't think my non-horsey readers would appreciate it!

So, I've started another blog to fulfill my need to chronicle and share my experiences on the road of training Gabe. It's still under construction as far as design goes, but it's there and I've started posting to it.

Green Slobber on My Shirt

The Gabe Files: Training update

Gabe has been an absolute joy to work with. He's SO freakin' smart that I'm starting to worry he's going to figure out how to get out of work later down the line. We had a bit of a respect/halter issue in the beginning, but with just a couple of days work, that issue is GONE. He respects the halter, respects my space and keeping his eye on me during our sessions watching for signals from me, which is exactly what he should be doing.

So far he's met Mr. Beach Ball, Mr. Pool Noodle, Miss Dressage Whip, Mr. Scary Tarp, the Squiggly Rope and the Cavaletti Kids. He took each in stride, no spooking, no wide, white eyeballing of the scary things (tarps are SUPER scary horse-eating monsters!), just intense curiosity and a silly playfulness that is so funny to watch in such a huge horse.

He did, however, murder Mr. Beach Ball. Poor, unfortunate thing. He was so unafraid of Mr. Beach Ball that he kicked him around, nosed him around, picked him up in his teeth to fling him across the paddock, and finally, he stomped on him. I guess a newer, sturdier version of Mr. Beach Ball is in order.

He "whoa's" on command, he backs when I take a step back and moves nicely sideways away from me when I tickle him just a bit. He picks up all his feet and stands fairly well just ground tied while I groom him.

However, the light mist from the fly spray bottle sends him into spasms of "Oh MY GOD! It's ACID! It's ACID! I'M DYING!" when I spray him, but only when it touches his left side. Very interesting. Working on it and slowly but surely he'll get over the left side fly spray phobia .

My Gabe is a peppermint addict. When he hears the wrapper crinkling he's all ears and lips. When he first came home he had pretty bad peppermint manners and was VERY mouthy. We fixed that pretty quick because there is nothing more dangerous than a horse who is over zealous with those giant teeth. Last night when I was working him I was wearing pants without pockets so I stuck a handful of peppermints into a fanny pack for the occasional Super Good Boy reward. He figured out pretty quickly where those peppermints were...and then, the little bugger, figured out how to unzip the dang thing with his lips! I'm tellin' ya...too smart.

Just because I think it's kind of cool, I'm putting up a picture of Gabe's daddy. Gabe is the spitting image of his papa! Seriously. The last pictures I posted of Gabe he was still wet from a bath so you really can't see his grey markings so well. I need to get new, better pics of him.

He's just as handsome as his dad!

He's home!

He loaded right up into the trailer and traveled beautifully the two hours to his new home. Doesn't he have the sweetest face? He's an absolute doll.


He even comes when he's called...or if he hears the cellophane wrapper of a peppermint crinkling in my fingers. He's a peppermint addict!

I watched him for three hours Sunday afternoon, just amazed that he's in MY pasture. I thought of names. All kinds of names. Silly ones. Common ones. Long ones. Pretentious ones.

None seemed to really fit him.

Then, out of nowhere, it hit me and all other names were gone from the massive name jumble in my head. It was the only one that suited him.

His name is Gabriel. We're calling him Gabe (or the Gabe-ster) and he's already responding to it. I think he likes it.

Fingers crossed...follow up

He now needs a new name. Stick N Rudder just isn't going to cut it when he comes home on Sunday.

I have a few ideas on the name, but I haven't decided yet. It may take awhile. Input is always welcome!

That was the most worthwhile two hour trip I've made in a long, long time. Wow. What an incredible animal! He's beautiful, he's about as people and animal friendly as they come. He kept snuffling Unruly's hair and sniffing her with great curiosity then, he'd come over, and like a dog, put his nose under my hand to get a scratch. But not in a pushy, dangerous way, in a "please pet me" way.

He's ENORMOUS. In foot height he stands 5'6" at the wither. Follow his front leg straight up to where his mane ends and his back starts, that's his wither. I'm 5'2". Heh.

The picture just doesn't do him justice in any way, shape or form. When he moves, he floats over the ground, almost like his feet have wings. He looks more like a warmblood than a Thoroughbred. I really didn't think I'd ever want a gelding, I've always been more of a mare kind of girl, but this big guy fits everything I was looking for, then more.

Can you say love at first sight? He is my new partner, I have no doubts about it. It will be a challenge because he's only track-broke (which means he's never been ridden by anyone but a jockey who wants him to RUN!!), but I'll have help along the way if I need it, and I think he's plenty sane enough not to try to turn my pastures into the Kentucky Derby the first time I hop up. Hop? Who am I kidding. I'm going to need a freakin' step ladder to get up there!

Fingers crossed...

Meet Stick N Rudder.
I'm going to drive two hours to go look at him tomorrow. He's a four-year-old Thoroughbred retired from the track because he's just too darned slow for racing. I found two videos of him running at Arlington in Kentucky, and he finished at the back of the pack both times! He's just not into racing.

I've been looking for a new horse for myself since my beautiful, wonderful Star died on Mother's Day nearly four years ago. It's been a long, long search. Sometimes a heartbreaking search. Every horse I've liked was way above my price range. The ones I could afford weren't quite what I was looking for. I've been looking for another partner to just have fun with and I'm really missing a horse of my own. Chief is Unruly's, Calypso is Hubster's. And I like them both, but they're just not MY partner, ya know?

I haven't been looking for anything terribly fancy, but my only requirements are that it must be a Thoroughbred off the track with clean legs and a sane mind. My ex-jockey friend found this one for me, and he has been raised and trained by one of her friends. He's not advertised because the owner wants him to go to a good home, which is definitely what we are! I've had more than one person tell me when they die, they want to come back as one of my horses.

The man in the picture with Stick N Rudder is 6'4" tall, if that gives you any idea about the horse. In horse terms, he stands 16.2 hh. He's HUGE! And apparently, he's a sweety. He comes with clean, blemish-free legs, which is always a concern with horses off the track.

I'm so excited I can barely wait to go see him! Tomorrow, work is going to DRAG!

Step by step

When we started looking for horse property many years ago my ultimate goal was to find a place where eventually I could foster horses and help them find forever homes. We are slowly, but surely, moving towards that goal with our little piece of paradise here in the Midwest. Of course the things that still need to be done take much money, but we'll get there, hopefully sooner than later!

With hay and gas prices skyrocketing, there are A LOT of unwanted and abused horses out there. There are abandoned and starving horses, many more than there were just five years ago. The national forest in Southern Illinois is trying to figure out how to deal with a herd of more than 100 feral horses that have been dumped there over the past two years. Kentucky and Missouri have the same problem and no one seems to know how to deal with it. There are countless horses at the track who are no longer profitable and end up at auction and some end up on the killer's truck to Canada or Mexico.

I can't save them all, I know that, but I sure would like to help as many as I can.

I want to help horses like Naysa and all the other ones who have been starved, abused, abandoned, neglected and forgotten.

The man who did that to her is still loose, a year after he left Naysa for dead on the side of the road. He needs to be locked up, forever. Unfortunately, our laws are no where near as tough as they should be when it comes to animal abusers. No where near as tough.

I'm making the connections I need to make in the horse world around here, and we're creating the space we need to give them a second chance they deserve. It's a slow process, but one I'm extremely passionate about.

Snow Day!

Snow over ice...what better reason to stay home and telecommute? We got the biggest snowflakes I've seen in a LONG time and ended up with well over an inch of the white stuff over an inch of the slick, slippery icy stuff. If you click the pics, you'll get a bigger version and a better look at the HUGE snow flakes. Sorry they are so dark, it's a tad gray out today.


Snow, snow, snow! View from the front door towards the pond and driveway.

Black dog, black Dodge, dusted in big white flakes.

"Wooly Mammoth" comes to mind. Don't worry, they are nice and toasty warm under their fluffy snow coats. The pasture, unfortunately, looks like a war zone. We've had so much rain it hasn't had time to dry and horses aren't kind to wet ground. This is my "sacrifice" paddock. I have 10 more acres of nice, (soon to be)grassy, woodsy pasture they haven't managed to destroy.

"Are you SURE you don't have any more carrots hiding in those pockets? I think you do. Come closer, I wanna check." Calypso wants to go for a gallop in the snow, I can see it in her eyes I just might oblige!

Yes, I'm a horse person

We are planning to have a new barn built this spring/summer. I've got the spot all picked out, the "worst case" design scenarios worked out in my head and the interior pretty much designed.

This is most likely the style we are going to have built, in dark green and cream:
Nice, eh? Four stalls, tack room, feed storage and groom stall. When you have a barn built, all they build is the exterior, so I'm still working on designing the interior, picking out the stall style, deciding on flooring and lighting and plumbing and ceiling fans and whatnot.

It's all very exciting! I'm already picking out colors for buckets and feed tubs, styles of stall plates, hardware for the tackroom (hardware, as in blanket, saddle and bridle racks), and trying to figure out how feasible it would be to have the barn wired for music.

If we had unlimited funds, and unlimited space (it's amazing how fast a barn will use up your good pasture/grass), this is the barn I'd like. It has eight stalls:
Well, heck, while I'm dreaming, I want THIS horse for eventing:She's only $25,000, pocket change!

And this one for, well, because he's gorgeous, duh. He makes my little heart go pitter-patter:His starting price is a mere $65,000. More pocket change!

Eatin' dust

Riding: The art of keeping a horse between you and the ground. ~Author Unknown
Unruly has been on horses since she was about three and in the past year or so, she's been riding by herself. Recently she discovered that riding isn't as easy as she's been led to believe.

In fact, it can be quite painful at times. Well, not the riding part, but the hitting the ground part. Especially when you plummet to the earth head first and eat dirt.

The essential joy of being with horses is that it brings us in contact with the rare elements of grace, beauty, spirit, and fire. ~Sharon Ralls Lemon
Lately she has decided that she's going to be a "famous" horse rider and trainer. She even said I could live with her and clean the stalls and horses when she grows up. Lucky me!

So, to practice for her new career goals, she's been riding faster and trying more things. She aims Chief at logs and ditches and tries to get him to jump. She kicks him up into a trot a lot more often and just grins and giggles like a madwoman as she's bouncing along. He doesn't move very fast, but for her, trotting is almost like flying.
She decided on her own that she was ready to canter. She wanted to not just fly, but soar. And soar she did. Chief is such a amenable old man. He lifted up into his lumbering canter, as she asked, and sprung along, as much as a nearly 20-year-old horse can spring.

But he went faster than she expected. The trees and the ground flew by in a blur and she panicked and dropped the reins. What happens when you have no reins? Well, for a six-year-old, you have no control. Then you're flying along, out of control and you panic. Which she did. But she thankfully remembered my lessons..."If he doesn't want to stop, just yell "WHOA! and mean it." and yell she did. Once. Loud and clear.

Chief heard her and obeyed. Immediately. Which she didn't expect. The horse stopped, the kid kept going. She hit the hard ground with an audible thud, sat there for a minute, stunned and surprised then got up to pat her good, good riding partner on the neck as he stood there and eyed her quizzically, wondering how the heck she managed to end up in front of him instead of on his back where she belonged. She told him what a good boy he was for stopping and kissed him on his velvety-soft nose. He loves that kid. He doesn't much care for anyone else, but Unruly is HIS kid. He takes good care of her.

When you're young and you fall off a horse, you may break something. When you're my age, you splatter. ~Roy Rogers
I thought I'd have to convince her to get back on, because falling off your horse can be a pretty traumatic and scary experience. I was ready to give the ole "dust yourself off and get back on," speech, but I didn't have to. Without shedding a tear she climbed back up and trotted off as if nothing had happened.

In the horse world you aren't truly a rider until you've fallen off at least once. I guess this means she's well on her way to a lifetime love of the horses who are such a rich part of our lives.

Tallest of 'em all

The World's Tallest Man, Leonid Stadnik, 36, a Ukrainian veterinarian, is 8'5.5" tall.

He needs to meet the World's Tallest Horse, Radar, a Belgian Draft who stands 6'7" tall and weighs 2,400 pounds.

They would certainly be a better match than the poor little Ukrainian horse good ole Leonid is bridling.

They sure do make shorties like myself feel extra small, a tad bit like one of the Munchkins from the Wizard of Oz!

Real women sweat like horses

"Yeah, but it's a dry heat, man!" Who can tell me what movie that line is from? Anyone anyone? I'll give you a hint....the dry heat is on another planet.

Oh, what I wouldn't give for a dry heat, man. I grew up in Kansas, a place where dry heat is king. Humidity? What's humidity? The constant wind blew all the moisture away, including your sweat. So, you were hot, but never wet. But here, in the great Mississippi River Valley? Humidity is a given. On days when the air is especially hot (like today, in the triple digits) and the air quality particularly low, the atmosphere looks slightly greenish and quite brackish. Like the Big Muddy stood up and splashed about in the atmosphere for awhile and left a few of its wet remnants behind to float around up there and make my life miserable.

In other words. It's. Just. Nasty. I don't care how many times I take a cool shower in a day, I never feel quite clean. As soon as I step outside the perspiration starts and doesn't stop. I turn into moisture magnets and the clothes are merely there to soak up the sweat. My clothes are sopping wet by the end of the day and manage to hold in more heat, which, in turn makes me cranky. Hubs doesn't think its very funny when I thrust my sweat-drenched undergarments at him and say "Here! Feel these! I was SO HOT!" I find it quite amusing though, in my own sick little way.

I just want to wander around naked in the hopes I will cool off, but I don't think it would work. After all, you can only get so naked before being naked just doesn't matter any more. You're still. hot. Hot. Hot. Hot. Take your-breath-away-and-leave-you-in-a-quivering-puddle-of-sweaty-exhaustion hot.

St. Louis in the summer sucks. This is the only time of the year I truly hate living where I live.

My poor horses can't get out of the heat. They stand in the woods and the damned bugs eat them alive and they just sweat and sweat and sweat. I hose them off in the evening, but that doesn't last very long before they are sweating again. I feel so bad for them standing out there in the breeze-less heat, enduring the biting flies (no fly spray ever seems to work for very long), and just sweating buckets.

I'm done with summer. It can go away now. Shoo! Go away. Send autumn in. I'm ready for crisp nights and seeing my breath hanging frosted on the morning breeze.

Tack 'em up and ride 'em

How to spend a summer evening on the homestead:

1. Convince Hubby he really DOESN'T need to finish up computer stuff while the sun is still up.
2. Encourage him to get into jeans and cowboy boots. (YUM! All he needs now is the big buckle and a cowboy hat)
3. Catch, groom and saddle up Chief and Calypso.
4. Toss Unruly up behind Hubby on Chief and climb aboard Calypso.
5. Wander on over to the neighbor's house to meet up with Wild, Cheeks and Albert on their horses.
6. Laugh, talk and ride until the sun goes down.
7. Wish you could do it every. single. day.

Over the weekend....my brain fell out

Apparently, I have taken leave of my senses, entirely. The gray matter went SPLAT! right onto the ground and my heart fell into its place.

Leave of senses #1. Now known as "Jasmine."


She's a two-month old black lab something. Have I mentioned I already have two dogs? Yeah? Puppy makes three. I am insane. Someone get the straitjacket and stick me in the loony bin.

Honestly. I couldn't help it. Unruly batted those big green eyes of hers and said "Please mommy! I PROMISE I'll take care of her!" And so far, she has. She was even up at 5:30 a.m. this morning to take that puppy out to go potty. Still doesn't make me any less of a sucker, does it?

Leave of senses #2. This is "Calypso."


Calypso is an early birthday present for Hubby. She is a 7-year-old appendix Quarter horse and she's a doll. I think Chief, our old man, is absolutely in love with her. As soon as he laid eyes on her lovely self, he turned into a young stud colt and strutted his stuff for her, nickering softly. I just know he was asking her on over to his pasture for the evening!

The flies were biting badly and I couldn't get her to stand square, so it's kind of a crappy photo...she's MUCH cuter up close and personal!

Our grumpy old man

Chief is one old dude. He can be rather crabby and is quite moody. He has arthritis and on some cold mornings he's very stiff and very cranky. Ever watch "Grumpy Old Men?"Chief is the Walter Matthau character. He doesn't care much for other horses, at all. In fact, I think he'd prefer to never really be around another one again.

He's not a bad looking guy, considering he's closing in on equine geriatrics pretty quickly and he's an Appaloosa.

Before he came to live with us he spent his days standing all by himself in a back pasture with very, very little human contact. I went out to see him at his old barn shortly before he came to us and he was an angry, cranky old man. I'd have the same attitude problem if someone just tossed me into a back pasture and forgot all about me.

Today, Chief has a new best friend. He absolutely adores his kid and Unruly calls him her "boyfriend." When he first came to his new home, no one but Unruly could catch him. He's much better now. He's still wary about adults, but not angry and scared of us.

I think they make a pretty cute couple. I had NOTHING to do with Unruly's choice of clothing, by the way. The rust-colored riding pants and pink shirt was ALL HER. Goes well with the red saddle and sorrel horse, yes?

From the back of a horse

I love getting that call "Hey...what are you doing tomorrow?" followed up with a "You want to go trail riding?" inquiry.

LOVE IT.

M. and A. trailered their horses to my place this weekend and we spent nearly three hours out trail riding. The weather was beautiful, the horses behaved admirably on the trails and it was SO nice to ride with them again. I haven't ridden with A. since Star died just over a year ago. It felt good to ride with her. Her horse, Willy, has gotten so FAT since I last saw him. He had cellulite on his butt, seriously! I suppose that because he's an old man, he's allowed to be a little poofy.

Of course, the day always has to start with a few glitches, doesn't it? M. locked her keys in her soon-to-be ex-husband's truck, which prompted a call to the county sheriff for a little assistance breaking in to the truck to retrieve the keys. Then her horse busted the snap on the lead rope and took off, cantering around my yard and up the driveway. Fortunately, he was unwilling to venture too far away from the other horses. Safety in numbers, you know. He thought the fence posts we put up around part of the pasture last week actually had fencing strung between them, which was amusing to watch because he'd run up to an open spot between the posts, eyeball it, ears pricked forward, tail high, and turn and run the other way. It sure would make putting up fencing for horses cheap if they'd just respect the posts all on their own.

The sheriff's deputy arrived about 20 minutes after we called, which is darn quick, considering there was probably one deputy on duty for the entire county Sunday morning! The sheriff sent the cute deputy on out to aid the damsels in distress (and we were exceedingly grateful. Eye candy in uniform...ahem...) and he unlocked that truck in less than five minutes.

So, out we went, the three of us, riding on a beautiful Sunday morning. Chief was a champ the entire ride and was exhausted by the time we got back. I got sunburnt, but, a little red on the arms and cheeks was totally worth the time in very good company. M.'s horse scared up a mama turkey with a whole brood of little baby turkeys in the tall grass. Mama turkey took off running across the field while making this really pathetic noise and left those poor little chicks to fend for themselves against the huge turkey-smashing horse! I don't think he stepped on any of them, thank goodness, and by the time we came back through that area the chicks were gone, hopefully with mama and nestled into a safer spot.

Hubby even noted how very good it was for me to just be able to get out and ride with my friends again. I love riding by myself, but sometimes, I love the company. It's good for my soul, and as one of my favorite people likes to say "Everything looks better from the back of a horse." There is no truer statement.

We lost one of the Rouen ducks on Friday. We were pretty sure a hawk got her and when Hubby and I found the remains, we pretty much confirmed that assumption. A hawk eats its meal in a very precise, clean way, as opposed to the mess four-legged predators usually make of their prey.

I thought Unruly would be really upset about the ducks' death, considering the duck was hers, but she wasn't. "Mom, it's the circle of life." she said.

I was pretty impressed by that healthy attitude and patted myself on the back for raising such a wise child. And then she followed that revealation up with, "Well, dad could just get his BB gun and shoot that hawk so it doesn't eat any more of our ducks."

*cringe*

I had to explain that not only was it against the law to shoot a red-tailed hawk but the hawk didn't do anything wrong. It was just being a hawk taking advantage of an easy-to-catch, tasty meal. Besides, I added, Dad's BB gun couldn't fire that far into the sky anyway and the BB might fall back down and shoot his eye out.

"Oh. Okay. Then I will just stand out here and scare the hawk away.

Alrighty then, kid, have fun with that.

Playing catch up

I am kind of sad. And a little bit bummed. For the past four years I've headed to Lexington, Kentucky for three days of pure horse bliss at the Rolex. *sigh*

This year I'm staying home and the Rolex starts tomorrow. I know, I know, I can watch it on TV and they are just horses, afterall. But they are amazing horses and this is a sport I have always wanted to be competitive in. It's not the same as watching it on TV, you can't feel the hooves hitting turf as those amazing athletes thunder by, feet away from where you are, and you can't hear them breath loudly, exhaling with each stride. And you can smell the sweat on them and hear the riders offer quiet encouragement on the course.

It's an amazing experience. I'm sad I'm missing it this year. I know we really couldn't afford to take the trip either. With four people at about $45 a ticket, plus camping and food and other stuff, it gets a tad bit expensive. And honestly, I'd rather get a second pasture fenced than go to the Rolex.

Or maybe that's just me trying to convince myself it really is best that we skip it this year.

Saturday I spent most of the day up north a bit trail riding with a friend. She picked Chief and I up early in the morning and we headed out to a state park. The day was perfect, not too hot, not too chilly, beautiful blue skies dotted with shreds of clouds that looked like ribbons of milk swirling through a sapphire liquid.

We arrived early and hit the trail just after 9 a.m. We were on the trail for almost three hours. Fabulous. We slogged through a few mud puddles, saw a turkey with an enormous beard, saw blue and yellow and little white flowers everywhere and smelled the sweet scent of some kind of flowering pink/white tree. Chief, although a whole lot out of shape, was fantastic. I seriously need to get that old man in better shape so hauling my butt up a hill doesn't leave him panting and gasping.

Friday night Hubby and I went to a poker party at the house of one of his friends. No, not strip poker, get your minds out of the gutter! It's been a long, long time since I've played, and even longer since I've played for real money. I had a blast, yes, there was a re-learning curve for me, but everyone was exceedingly patient! I even learned a few new games, which is very cool. I walked out 50-cents ahead, yay me!

It's definitely something I'd like to do again, and maybe next time I won't be quite so exhausted. I was tired. Exceedingly tired. Friday was a bad, bad day at work. One of those rush all day long days just to try to catch up with yourself. Wait, the whole week was like that! I knew it was going to be an exhausted evening when I tried to doze off while driving home from work before the poker party. When this girl is tired, she is TIRED! Nothing in between.

Green thumbing and horse whispering

I always knew the horses and the gardens were my therapy. I always forget how therapeutic both are until I truly need them again, or I go for too long a stretch between either. I went riding and instantly felt more at peace with everything. I dug new flower beds and planted flowers and felt the stress fall from my body in great, ugly lumps. Planting things, making things grow, even the smallest marigold, gives me the feeling that yes, I can still nurture and grow something and I'm not a complete failure in all things I touch. Watching a tiny seed turn into a beautiful plant because I put it in the dirt and watered it is immensely satisfying on all kinds of deep, subconscious levels.

I took Chief out for a short bareback hack last night, and it was SO nice. Just him and me, toddling along as that old Appy is wont to do. He doesn't go fast, and that's okay when I just want to get away and relax. The gentle back and forth, side to side motion of his body beneath mine is more relaxing than any high-priced massage could ever be. The smell of his horsiness and the sound of his hooves brushing through the grass are worth more to me than any diamond or sports car can ever be worth. The horse hairs stuck to my pants and shirt and in my hair and eyes are welcome additions to my hopelessly out-of-style wardrobe. The scent of his musky, sweat-sharp odor clings to me and it's the priciest, most worthwhile perfume I could ever buy.

He reminds me to be humble in a way only horses can do. He reminds me kindness, quietness, understanding and gentleness should be first on everyone's list of "must dos" the moment they wake in the morning.

Despite the whirling world around me, my thumb is still green and I can still whisper to my horses. Everything else can just sit by the side and watch for awhile, because when I'm getting rich, dark earth beneath my fingernails or feeling my horse beneath my hands, my nose and my thighs, all is right in the world, at least for a little while.

I just can't NOT post this

This is the coolest horse EVER!

To leap or not to leap: Journey to the unknown

Recently a unique business opportunity was presented to me. Without going into too much detail, this business opportunity combines what I already do (journalism), the hobby I love most (horses) and the chance to work from home. A state-wide horse publication is for sale and a friend of mine tossed my name out there as being an interested party with the experience and background to make it work.

Publisher of my very own paper, making my own decisions, making the final edits. Long days, but long days at home. Traveling, but traveling to horse shows and equine expos and trainer clinics. Writing what I want to write and covering the things I want to cover instead of some of the crazy-ass stuff my editors make me cover.

I couldn't think of a more perfect job that would tap into my knowledge, my experience and my passion all in one stroke.

The thought is intoxicating, and terrifying all rolled into one giant ball of 'what ifs' and 'why nots?' And then I think about what a huge leap into the unknown it would be. No more paid days off, no more vacation time. No work = no money.

I love what I do now. I love the changing topics, the changing subjects I come in to write about every day. I love knowing that every day I've made a difference in at least one person's life. I love the perks that come along with the job: The stunt plane rides, the days spent in a sailboat watching them race, the trip in an Air Force tanker, the chance to fly with the Thunderbirds, the exclusive events, free lunches, meeting fascinating people, watching history happen and leaving my mark. I would miss that, all of that.

There is the possibility that turning your hobby into your job would take away the hobby. What if I did have to write about horses and trainers and shows every day? Would it become something I viewed as a 'have to do' instead of a 'want to do?' I would die inside if that happened. I would lose my therapy, my escape, my hobby and in the end I'd have nothing but job.

On the other hand, publishing such a paper would give me amazing connections in the horse world, connections I'd most likely not make just being another backyard horse hobbyist. I could fall even more in love with my hobby, if that's even possible.

So, the decision is still floating out there, a possibility that is all at once a dream and a nightmare, a gift and an iron shackle, an ethereal 'what if' that needs an answer.