God Save You, If You Fall for a Horse-Girl!

So, back in October, we put Reno down.  It was a very hard decision.  Lots of you have been there.  I had great advice from multiple horse-owning friends, about how it could go if I did nothing, and I knew I didn't want to go there.  So it was done. 

I stayed away from the barn as much as possible.  Poor Princess got fed, and that was it.  Good thing I had bought those crazy goats.  They kept her company.  Another friend offered to bring me a loaner horse for the winter.  I even went to meet him.  Seemed fine.  But he was recovering from a significant injury and we wanted to be sure he was really, really healed up before he came.  So it went on a little longer than we planned.

And then I started looking on Craigslist...

Of course, you know where this is going.

I love to hunt.  I love the bargains.  I would like to think I have enough maturity to be sane about what I am contemplating.  I have mucked stalls in below-0 weather, busted frozen tanks, hauled water, dragged sandbags through rain, hauled hose through drought, put up hay, again and again and again--done it all.  This was the perfect opportunity to start down the ramp to less commitment, less work, more free time.   I had gotten another collie, so I would be able to show more in AKC.  After all, dogs can't kill me and I don't need a special vehicle to get them from here to there.

But I just couldn't put my saddle up for sale.  Even after I got bucked off my neighbor's horse and limped around for a month.  My significant birthday is coming up this year, and I still haven't made it to "combined training".  I learned that moniker back in 5th grade, when I was cleaning stalls all day on Saturday at my lesson barn, in order to earn 30 minutes of free riding time.  All the bigger girls went to "combined training".  I wasn't sure what it was, but I was sure I wanted to go.

I sold my saddle once, when Rachael was about a year old.  Handyman was sad for me, but I told him I would get another, and I did.  I rode Reno several times, have ridden Princess quite a few too.   And got a free horse from a nice lady in Michigan, and rode him a few times as well.  But still hadn't quite made the "love-connection"--which, like a good marriage, is more about long-term compatibility than about hearts and cupids and L-U-V.

There are always horses on Craigslist.  Most are half-broke, un-broke, green-broke, were-broke or too-thin/old/small/young to break.  There is always a smattering of expensive halter horses, ranch horses, great trail horses and sweet retirees that should be able to stay where they are forever.  And an even smaller portion of actual candidates for bus-driving wannabe's who can't quite give it up....

There was a nice looking TB gelding who had been an eventer and ridden by a 4h'er, available for FREE lease.  He had that good, smart, calm look about him.  He had one issue, the farrier, which was not insurmountable.  I made an appointment to see him--in January.  Bleh--a tough time to try a horse.  But he had that look on his face that reminded me of Reno, that decency you cannot dismiss.

But before I got to meet him, one night I searched "horse stall" on Craigslist because I had seen an ad for these iron stall fronts that were kind of cool, and I wanted to see if there was an affordable price range.  Just curiosity for curiosity's sake...I have stall fronts already, for cryin' out loud.  And half-way down the list of ads was a headline "DUTCH WARMBLOOD MARE $6000, MUST-SELL, MAKE OFFER"; so of course, I had to at least look. 

Notice it did not say anything about "stall fronts".  I do not look for mares.  I search "gelding".  I am a gelding person, except for Princess and she barely qualifies as a mare, since I have never seen her even put her ears back at any living thing, ever.  Well, the picture was great.  A big chestnut mare, in full-on dressage mode, white boots and all, doing her thing.  It was impressive. 

Have I mentioned that I specifically do not like chestnut mares?  I avoid them at all costs.  I make fun of them.  "CMS"--Chestnut Mare Syndrome, rhymes with PMS, something else no one enjoys.  I turn my head purposely away from chestnut mares.  But there was the very first horse I got in 4th grade, for free, Schnook.  She was a chestnut mare.

A chestnut mare that was 24 years old when I got her.  She was turned out in a 20-acre field with a bunch of other horses, and I could climb through the fence, catch her, bridle her and lead her over to the fence to get on.  I could ride her bareback, in that field; and if I fell off, she stopped and let me catch her again.  (What is up with that?!  Obviously, an angel from heaven taking the form of an old, sway-backed, chestnut quarter horse mare.)

Well, I avoided responding for about 48 hours.  I told myself all the reasons I could not own a chestnut mare, let alone a $6000, Dutch Warmblood, chestnut mare.  I found the ad again, against my will, and read it.  The person said the mare had been trail ridden, had been a show hunter, and had NO issues.  Said she was more interested in the home than the price and would entertain all offers to the right situation.  Wanted the horse to go to someone who had always wanted a quality horse but could never afford it.  (Pretty much sums up my horse life.)  So, since writing is one of my strong suits, I responded...

Move over, Reno!

The fame is spreading here at Netherfield! Reno was simply the first of our stock to go Hollywood! (I'm sure someone will be contacting me soon about writing a cookbook, for people who don't have kitchens.)

We received word last month, that Tucker the Wonder Dog, and his sister, Tasha the Judge-Nipper have gone global!

2012 Welsh Corgi Calendar from Brown Trout



Taken almost two years ago, my little rodents' picture made the cover! I told Handyman, we now have celebrities pooping in our yard!

I know there have been several catty comments going on around the water dish, about the "younger set" getting all the attention. But we are doing our best to keep everyone on the same pay grade.

I did make a complete fool of myself at Tractor Supply, showing the clerks my dogs. They were like, "Oh, you have corgis." I'm going, "No. These are actually my dogs."

They say, "Those are your actual dogs?"

Me: "Yes! It's so exciting."

Them: "Cool. Here's your change." They were clearly in awe.

So, since my dogs' photo is by far superior to several of the other months, I have already cut up my calendar. Using the cover shot to cover up the ridiculously bad January selection. February is a cute blue merle Cardi, so I will go with that. March is, of course, MY DOGS, so that will do. June is #1's best friend's dog, Sparky, so we will keep that one. And all the rest will probably be hidden.

I am not one bit of a stage mother. Don't think it for a second. The girls haven't minded giving up their beds for the corgis at all.

Remodeling

Remodeling--it's fun, exciting, expensive, and educational! We tell people all the time about the cartoon, that I carry in my daytimer AND have taped to our refrigerator--but mostly just burned into our brains--that shows Satan standing at the "doors" to the underworld. There are two choices for the poor bum waiting on the brink. One portal reads, "Burn for all eternity" and the other says, "Live in your home while you're remodeling". Satan quips, "Pretty much a toss-up, isn't it?!"

Yep. Well, I think so. As Handyman tore into the dining room wall after church, the rest of us shielded our plates from debris and I threw newspaper at #1 to tape over the heat vents in the floor--(which lead directly to our $10 million geothermal heat pump!)

#1, being a seasoned remodeling baby, went right at it, taping protection down. When it comes to heat, we women are pretty possessive and protective. We'll take every micro jule (or BTU or whatever) we can get.

I was proud of my little women. Nobody batted an eye as Daddy started yanking off planks of drywall while we ate. In fact, #1 got into it. It was a stress-reliever for her. What did surprise me (silly me), was that #3 didn't know much about how much we've done to the house that she lives in. She thought it had looked like this since we moved in!! Yikes!

Obviously, babies do not pay close attention to fiber-cement siding, custom window trim and the quality of interior doors. She did not realize that the nook used to be an outdoor deck and that the big spot of particle-board subfloor in her bedroom is where #1's closet was. She didn't know that her bedroom originally had one ridiculously small window AND a set of patio doors!

Fortunately, Handyman did insist that I make a remodeling scrapbook of this monstrosity we call home. During #3's short life, Daddy has been busy building the barn, the fence and now the treehouse, and she's seen very little work on our actual abode--a fact not lost on Handyman. I whipped out the scrapbook and showed her how the house looked when we first looked at it. In a word--ick.

I told her how we didn't move in for a month, while Daddy ripped up the original 1971 shag carpet, with the original 1971 cat pee stains. How he even ripped up the subflooring in our bedroom and we moved in with no carpet on the replacement subfloor.

I told her how that first winter, we only had the shower in the bathroom off the kitchen-the one with NO heat vent--to use. And how we took her sisters to Grandma's once a week for a bath. I showed her the pictures of the front doors, with the hideous blue siding and solid metal doors, that were the first thing to feel the crowbar when we came.

I think she was a little impressed. She quickly grew accustomed to the big orange extension cord trailing through the rooms and adapted well to the sawzall running while she played downstairs.

As I have seen time and time again, Handyman is much more organized in his processes (THANK GOD!), than I would be. I woulda cut the hole in the wall at 1pm, just to experience the thrill of light coming in, (and heat being sucked out!) But not my guy--he spent most of the day measuring and marking. Then he had to move some wiring around. Then he moved the insulation and built the header and framework, AND installed it, without touching the siding on the outside.

Then, I just happened to find a text from Hayfield Owner, from 3 days previous, asking if Handyman had gotten the window put in? And I just happened to text back that window installation was actually in progress at that very moment, if he was bored. Fortunately, Hayfield Owner was bored and he and his kids rode their bikes over, and stayed for dinner, PTL.

I'm sure if Handyman had continued on with me as the assistant, there would be a lop-sided hole in the wall, with garbage bags taped over it, while he had to go to "paying work" for four days. The window would be leaning up against the wall, with doodling on it and laundry stacked on top of it.

Handyman was able to move forward more quickly with knowledgeable, capable help and they ended up even saving the siding, to make a quick restoration of the outside. The new window went into place at about 8pm, rather than the predicted midnight. And boy was I glad there was someone besides me to stand on the scaffolding and heave it into place!

It was a little less than exciting since it was dark outside when it went in, but I think it got the remodeling bug going again in Handyman. Not that the treehouse is actually finished. There's that whole railing for the bouncy bridge, and railing for the porch side with the 14' drop. But, hey! They're kids! It's exciting for them, right?!

I would post pictures of the window, the sent-from-above helper and the Handyman in his bathrobe cutting insulation, BUT, #1 fell with my digital camera and it hasn't been happy since. So all those pictures are on this archaic device called a film camera and I'll have to drive somewhere to get them "developed".

I will leave you with a picture of the upcoming, massive project, which requires the assistance of knowledgeable people called, structural engineers! But, you can also see from this shot, what the entire house looked like, aesthetically, in the beginning. Unfortunately, you cannot see that the window trim is rotted and falling off, and the windows have lost their seals, etc. And you cannot smell the smell that sent the realtor back to her car--(it wasn't that bad.)


Wish us luck!

A three-hour tour...

Lewis, Clark and Sacajawea put in just south of the driveway.
As they head for the rapids, a friendly Mandan watches...
...and helps them over a shallows.
They turn east at the juncture with the overflowing creek.
and approach the notorious poultry penitentiary, nearly submerged.
Passing between the garden plot, piled high with "horse product" and the chicken "pen", they continue eastward, toward the "fort".
A friendly "native" joins the little band.
Another low spot. Lewis has to drag the dugout.
View from the fort.
Approaching Trail's End.

Clowns, comedy, kids, crazy horses, mud

Aren't these cute? We had the largest snowfall in about a decade--or these girls' lifetimes--a few weeks ago and this is what resulted. Now, while you're oohing and aahing, I just want to say that those eyes are not coal. We don't have any coal laying around up here. But we do have thousands and thousands of frozen, dark blobs dotting our landscape. Well, various, selected parts of our landscape. Including the garden area just beyond where these were taken. It all originated with one of my many horse catalogs. There was a t-shirt with a little boy building a snowman, and standing off to the side was a cartoon horse saying, "Hey! Little boy! Those aren't lumps of coal." Need I say more...


Yesterday, #3 was practicing her phonics/reading with some cards with three-letter words. One card had the word "wax". She dutifully sounded it out and said the word. I was duly impressed as this is not a common word for a child. She was excited by me and yelled, "Like earwax!" with a big grin. Yeah, like earwax. Ewww.



Although the beautiful snow is now gone, leaving lots of mud in its wake, I did turn out horses a couple days ago, when the ground was just starting to go soft. Unfortunately, I left the "people door" open on the north side of the barn. I had tossed out some hay and begged the horses not to run around wildly and they had agreed. When Handyman drove out for his daily sabbatical to Menards, he saw no horses. Upon investigation, he found two horses INSIDE the barn, pooping in the gravel, carefully avoiding the workbench in the center of the aisle, but dragging their blankets onto the ground and making complete nuisances of themselves.

Now I expect this from Princess--the large pony who believes she is a dog--but not from Reno. Reno is 25 years old, 16 hands and 1200 lbs. To get into the barn, he had to climb up two rather small steps (the top step being less than 24" across), squeeze through a three-foot door and navigate around a table on sawhorses, a stack of barn siding and a stack of rubber mats. He is also completely besotted by the large pony and cannot bear to be out of her sight. He was willing to risk all for love...

Of course, when Handyman arrived, even as he headed for the large sliding door to send them packing, the guilt hit with a vengance and they weren't going to wait for a horse-sized escape. They whirled and headed again for the people door where they both leapt out beyond the steps and proceeded to run hysterically pell-mell around the field. I, of course, received the chastising phone call for leaving the door open, along with threats of spanking.

Needless to say, when I went out later to feed, the field around the barn and beyond looks like a meteor shower happened, with horse divots EVERYWHERE. So much for maintaining grass. I guess the vitamin supplements are doing their job.


This was just too cute to leave out...

"Tree" house progress

Well, the roofing came in this week and we wanted to try to get it on before the snow fell, so #1 got her first lessons with drip edge...



You can see the full height of the place on the left side of the picture. That's an 8' green ladder below. On the other side of the house, it is only about 4.5 feet from the ground to the porch floor. That is where the "swinging" bridge will connect. The peak is about 12' from the porch deck.

While they were installing roofing, the building-permit guy came floating by...


Okay, not really, but we were totally surprised when this came over the back of our property. They were CLOOOOOOOOOOSE and so vividly beautiful.

This is the last piece of roofing going on for that side, and I had my camera set to night-shot because it was pretty dark. So, we're only half-done, but that's better than none-done.



All afternoon, while the construction was going on, I was doing "ultimate Fly-Lady". This is where you haul waste wood from the trees rows around your house and BURN them completely up, thus de-cluttering in the most intense way. It was very therapeutic. I was cleaning up the place, keeping warm and making sure Handyman didn't plummet off the side of his little obsession without supervision.

Finally...

I know, I know, it's been almost two weeks--but hey! I just found the camera in the purse I carried at the wedding and then I had to find new batteries to even get it going and today is #3's fifth birthday and I have made two trips to two ER's this month and Handyman is on location for ETERNITY and tomorrow I am hosting a princess birthday party for 7 and I can't find my mascara, okay???

Anyway, here's a glimpse...



More to come...if I survive the Princess-fest!

Okay, it looked so pretty, I wanted to add one more...



I can't decide who the prettiest girl is...


(Anyone who has made the chicken "drumsticks", please report in!)