What's Really Important

Sometimes it takes a tremendous tragedy to make us wake up and re-evaluate our priorities. After hearing of the devestation of Burgandy Hill Farm I walked into the barn and hugged each and every horse. Each of those animals in that barn are as precious to me as my own children would be. I could not begin to fathom the heartache that is just beginning for Michelle, her mother, and everyone else at that barn.

It served as a reminder to me that every day is precious. Each day in the barn, no matter how trying, is a good day. It can be so swiftly lost.

It reminded me that the petty gossip and sniping of detractors is just that- petty. It holds no bearing on how I do things. It should never interfere with my ablility to cherish each moment with my animals. The smell of leather and sweat and hay; the feel of a mane in my fingers; the look in each horse's eye- that is important. What people say is not.

Borrowing Trouble

Did your mother ever tell you not to go borrowing trouble? In other words, don't go looking for trouble, 'cause you're going to end up with some anyway, and by looking for it, you're liable to end up with worse.

This is how I feel with Timmie sometimes. Twice now we've taken him off to the vets, because he wasn't quite right. Twice now we've come home with the dire-est of diagnoses. Twice it's turned out to be something minor, but something, none the less. (Actually, this last time, was supposed to be just a routine hock x-ray since that is about the ONLY joint he hasn't had radiated.)
So he's currently laid up with an abscess. It was a stonebruise last time. He's a pretty serious Diva. To a degree, I'm glad it actually abscessed, drained, and now we can dry it up and move on with life.

You might notice that Timmie gets "more than his fair share" of press-time in this blog. Perhaps you're right. Still.. he's a continual source of amusement, entertainment, and anxiety for everyone in the barn. Look at this face! (I'm talking about Timmie's) Doesn't that say it all?

Oh... and I'll just throw Timmie and Julie both under the bus here since the opportunity has arisen. (Love ya! Really I do!) We were all in awe that Julie decided to shoot this picture this way. None of us have been able to decide- brave or stupid? Or some combination of both? Bareback w/ just a halter, and not even holding the lead... I KNOW Timmie, and I also KNOW that even though he was surrounded, if he'd decided to leave none of us would have been able to stop him. (It's not uncommon for him to decide to leave when I'm cleaning his stall. I will be hanging off the back of his blanket, but still he off and leaves- and I'm dragging in his wake like a really bad immitation of water-skiing.)

The other thing: That is NOT Timmie's forelock. We made him a forelock extension for these photos. That is actually tail hair from a horse that desperately needed their tail trimmed. This was necessary because at the last show Timmie decided that the short, fuzzy look was way more in than the long, sleek one was. So.. he rubbed off his entire forelock braid. All of it. We managed to preserve the braid. When we found it, it was hanging by about 6 hairs. He still needed to show that day- so some very strong adhesive/hairspray, and he made it through. Still, it did not survive having the yarn removed. Alas.. even with about 6 long hairs to work with and a whole bunch of short fuzzy ones, we did a pretty damn good job there, if I do say so myself.

Timmie Gets a Friend

Yep, that's going to be the title of the next book.

No, this friend is not the one the book is about.

I'm going to introduce you to Timmie's one true friend. His partner in high crime and misdemeanors. His cohort- his protege'- his, what the hell was I thinking giving him a youngster corrupt this way??
This is Lex. Alias: Going Bayou Boldly. Currently wanted for questioning in a public nudity case.

You may have guessed that Lex is our current class clown. Terribly bright, not overly coordinated (yet!), and a fountain of harmless, amusing, mischief. At least, when he's with Timmie he's a fountain of mischief. How harmless it is, depends on your perspective. I'm sure his mother doesn't find it all that harmless. After all he did (w/ help no doubt) de-stuff his nearly new turn-out rug. It appeared to have snowed in big fluffy clumps all over his paddock. Of course, when questioned, both boys simply gazed at me with their cherubic "Who? Me?" expressions. Lex is simply a master at this. Sugar cubes would not melt in his mouth.
Not only is he a master at seeming innocence, he's one of the sweetest, best natured horses there is. Or, should I say he was. Or more aptly, is most of the time. It appears he's not yet ready to share his mother in any capacity, and especially not with some mare. It matters to him not at all that the mare came before him. Fortunatly, he's also very forgiving. A little time and a few peppermints, and it's "What mare? Did you see a mare? I didn't see a mare."
That's Lex.
He also happens to be extremely talented. Sweet, talented, and big, brown, innocent (falsely?) eyes.... Alicia is one lucky girl. Now, if we could just get Lex to stop trying to kiss Kenn............

Zoom Zoom Zoom

Okay. We've gone and done it. Bit the bullet.

We've bought a truck.

Sure it's a used truck, but it was a decent deal. It's pretty much all I've wanted in a hauling vehicle, except that it's automatic, and that's something I can live with. It's a King Ranch F-350 with every option. Heck, it's even got a moon-roof. How lucky can a girl get?

I think you'll agree it's time. This year the saga of my father's truck continued at the World Show. I suppose it's just that truck's way of telling us it does not want to go to Texas, no f***in' way! To bring those who do not know up to date- 3 years ago, the day after we arrived in Fort Worth (AFTER *I* drove in Dallas morning rush-hour traffic, w/ the fully loaded horse trailer, thru extensive construction) we pulled into Ol' South (the local 24-hr. pancake joint) and as we backed into the parking spot, the tie-rods fell off. Nice huh? So, the next year, shortly after arriving the starter crapped the bed, and left me stranded at the hotel. Thankfully this truck is standard. Drag it across the parking lot a short ways.. and wam, bam, thank you ma'am.. enough said. 1 Point for standard transmissions! $610 later and new starter later, we thought that was behind us. We thought wrong.
This year, yet again, the starter went. Exactly one year and a week from when it was replaced last. The warranty expired- you guessed it!- on the one year anniversary. So.. if it had had the grace to puke out on us at the BEGINNING of the show, we'd have been A-OKAY. But, no.. that's not the way the cookie crumbles. Regardless, I'm sure you're saying, that it's more than time for me to get my own truck. Technically I agree. There is one problem with that, however.

Turns out, I'm a huge commitment-phobe. Who'da guessed? I've had more than one anxiety attack about incurring this amount of debt. So what, you ask? As I've had pointed out to me, buying a vehicle isn't exactly a "till death do you part", sort of proposition.
That's what you think.
I, however, do have a track record of keeping my vehicles far longer than I've ever kept any man around.
This sure is one sexy truck, though. Maybe I'll survive.