Holiday wishes for all the best.
Who hasn’t begged for a pony for Christmas? My generation scrutinized the color plates of horse breeds in the H volume of our aged Encyclopedia Britannica.Kids today haunt websites like www.horsecrazygirls.com. Generations agree, a pony for Christmas it the very best present.
“The threat of Christmas hung in the air…”
The least flattering time I heard this re-incarnation plan was while I was rubbing mineral ice on my horse’s inner thigh. He had torn a muscle and was in his second month of stall rest. The man who said it thought he was Columbus in the New World, and a total laugh riot.
“Slow down. No one’s tombstone ever says ‘I wish I would have mucked faster.’” Edgar has lots of opinion when I am mucking the donkey pen. He runs to greet me- which usually results in him blocking the gate I am trying to get through. That takes some un-tangling. Once I am in, he carefully positions … Read more
I wasn’t born in a barn. It was the small building south of the barn- our house. As the youngest, there were times that I needed a baby sitter, but there weren’t always hands free for that job on our farm. I gave everyone a good scare as a toddler. My Mother noticed I was missing from the spot she … Read more
There is a front coming in tonight. Clouds are moving low and fast, the wind is howling around corners, as the temperature drops like a rock. Spring and fall bring this kind of barometer-bouncing weather. Worst of all, the horses are acting unsettled as the atmosphere. There is a name for this kind of weather, … Read more
Here at Infinity Farm we are riding in a rut- literally a rut runs along the rail of the arena. The first definition of rut in the dictionary is “a sunken track or groove made by the passage of vehicles.” Most arenas have ruts. Every week I do Zamboni work to the sand, but a … Read more
The gate opened and in came the first horse/rider combination. The horse was a post-prime Arabian, trotting quickly with her nose out. She was groomed to a shine, with a braid in her mane already beginning to fray. The rider was a tiny girl in jeans, rubber tall-boots and a scuffed helmet. I think she … Read more
There is a delicate quality to the outdoors just now- like the earth is holding it’s breath, waiting for the wind on it’s way from the north. Any minute that wind will bomb us naked and mono-chromatic till spring.