Moonwalking

I know how to Moonwalk. It's true! I taught myself last Fall, from watching a how to Youtube video. It's actually easier than you think and just requires lots of practice. Anyway, my intentions to learn how to Moonwalk stemmed from my love of Michael Jackson's music and performances at the age of 3. I am not the type of person to go gaga over music or performers, but MJ, ohhh...I've always harbored a love for the strange singer.

Anyway, I decided I was going to learn to Moonwalk before Halloween. I am older these days, but every Halloween B and I dress up and hit a party or two. I debated on either being Michael Jackson or an 80's aerobics instructor. Due to the fact that I had no idea how I would pull off ole' MJ, I decided upon the aerobics instructor. Regardless, my plan was to regale my friends with my fabulous new dance moves (the MOONWALK). I urged - begged - forced B to dress up as an 80's gym teacher -HA! Anyway, fyi, the Salvation Army is a wondrous place to find 80's gear - it's chock full! I found a horribly wonderful 1 piece bathing suit with super high cut legs, leg warmers at American Apparel, hideous pink Reebok sneakers at Salvation Army, and of course tights and sweat bands (American Apparel).

The party was a bit disappointing. You see, a group of girls were there who upstaged me with a whole rendition of the Thriller zombie dance. DAMMIT! So much for my moon walking skills. But really, I still don't know anyone else with this rare skill, and each and every time I hear "Billie Jean" play, I moonwalk, if only in my head!

Check this out: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r6dx3Zm86P4

A nice weekend and an anniversary

Last weekend was nice. B and I went to a friends 30th birthday. This friend of ours rents a home on a lake. The home is very basic, like a cottage, but the lake, ohhhh the lake. I honestly believe that if one moves to a lake or has a really nice pool, they will find they have friends they never knew they had! The cottage sat on it's own peninsula and has me convinced that B and I need to buy a home with lake frontage. B and I mingled with friends we don't see often and drank lots of keg beer. I felt like I was in college again! At some point B looked somewhat forlorn. He told me that all of a sudden he just felt very hot and sick. I was just starting to let loose, so I felt disappointed when B wanted to go home. Poor B, I know he really wanted to hang out longer. On one hand I was really bummed to leave so early, but on the other hand, I hadn't gotten to the point where a hangover the next day was imminent, and I did NOT start with my drunken story telling - THANK GOD! I have alot of embarrassing stories that I just LOVE to regale people with when I've had one too many cocktails. Ugh, I usually spend the next day cringing at the memories of myself.

Sunday, B and I spent the day with my parents at their home. They have a pool, how convenient! My dad has been very sick the past year due to a bout with Diverticulitis. Basically, last August, his colon ruptured. He was taken for emergency surgery and almost didn't survive. He has had countless surgeries and has lost tons of weight since then. He's got one more surgery, hopeful, before he's all done and can fully recover. This Diverticulitis is no laughing matter I tell ya'! It's very dangerous - I had no idea it could rupture the colon.

My dad's a Veteran of Vietnam and was a Marine, so he's a tough guy, this almost broke him, so it's just very sad seeing this strong guy so sick.

I went to the barn Sunday evening to turn some horses out and visit with Bob and Contro. Both were great, though Bob needs to put some weight on.

Sunday was also B and my 1st wedding anniversary. We spent the day celebrating Father's day, so Monday night we decided to thaw our cake top and eat that for dessert. It came out looking somewhat sketchy. The sugar paste flowers were freezer burnt. The cake though, tasted great. Once I got past the fact that I was eating year old cake, I loved it. The other half is in the fridge for tonight. I just can't bare to throw that beautiful cake away :(.

Meet the Cast

This is Daisy AKA Chachee, Patchouli, Choulichanga, Puss in Boots ~ Daisy is my cat and B (my husband) dislikes her, now more than ever since she puked on him (he he). I received Daisy from my friend Laura as a graduation gift. I've had her since 1998 and she's about 11.

This freakin' adorable creature is Madigan AKA: Scutt Butt, Patooncia Pete, Scutt, Magoo, Missmee, Ling-ton (her song is Ling a ling ton la ling a ling ton, a ling a ling ton la ling a ling ton). Try it, it's catchy. Madi is a Min Pin who B and I got about 3 years ago, that makes her 3!

This fine lookin' fella' is Bob AKA, Bobaloo, Boob, Aroobis, Scoob, etc. He is a 1997 15'2 Morgan Gelding out of Nobility. He's not my style of Morgan, but he's still super adorable, sweet and lovable.

Can you tell I'm a nickname queen? I even have one for B, but he doesn't like it. BEANS - ohmygod!! I have issues!!!

The Camping Trip

This is K, Me and S - just chillin' with drinks ;)


One evening we went to watch the sunset - it stormed a bit and this is what happened.

It was hot on Sunday, we all sat on the beach and soaked up the sun!

The sunset was beautiful!

Just after the sun went below the horizon, the lake turned a beautiful opalescent color and the sky lit with pinks, purples and blues


Watching the Detroit Red Wings Lose the Stanley Cup!! :(

Last weekend friends and I went to The Pinery Provincial Park in Grand Bend, Ontario for a long camping weekend. The weather was all over the board, ranging from a chilly 45 degrees F at night to a toasty 83 degrees on Sunday (beach here we come)!

The campground is in a big park that has magnificent beaches along Lake Huron (sunset side), the beautiful Ausable river for canoeing and kayaking, tons of mountain biking/hiking trails and lots and lots of very bold wildlife we got to experience 1st hand ;).

The first night there, the boys wanted to head downtown Grand Bend to watch the Red Wings play. They lost, but it was nice to see that the team who won, really deserved it - they were so happy, I couldn't help but smile for them.

As I mentioned above, we saw many different critters - below is what we saw - can you guess what they are?

Some of the pics are small and hard to see - my apologies. Sadly, I only saw one horse. On our way back a girl was riding a sweet looking Clydesdale horse alongside the highway. It was a unique site to see - the horse was just lumbering along underneath a western saddle. I did see plenty of neat looking horse farms though - I wonder if any were Canadian Horse farms (the breed that is)?

The critters above are:

1. Whitetail deer

2. Tent worm Caterpillar (ick)

3. Raccoons (they were unbelievably bold)

4. Turkey Vultures

5. Chipmunk

The tent worms were unfortunately too abundant - they were all over our campsite so I had to be very vigilant about where I stepped, touched and slept - yuck, yuck, yuck! The Raccoons were quite annoying but cute too. I think we were very naive campers - we had our coolers out and food sitting out on the picnic table as we unpacked and got ready for a campfire and s'mores. As the night drew in and darkness settled upon our campsite, we began hearing mysterious sounds coming from all directions. Soon, two beady eyes appeared just behind the tent closest to the campfire (approximately 3 feet from where I was sitting). We stared in amazement as a large Raccoon appeared). He didn't budge when we made noises, but finally ran off when a stone was tossed in his direction. Of course, we were all astonished that he would be so bold - it was quite cool to see one so close, but also a bit unnerving as well. Soon though, our minds were really blown - Raccoons began emerging from every direction - about 7 of them were counted. They would amble to our coolers, and one got away with a bag of Marshmallows and another grabbed the graham crackers. Ha, they took our S'mores! We QUICKLY learned that EVERYTHING needed to be kept in the cars at all times - these 'Coons knew no boundaries - it was a turf war as far as the boys were concerned.

Each night in our tents we heard the Raccoons rifling through everything in our campsite, growling to each other and shuffling about. The picture above is of a Raccoon sneaking into our beer cooler, this was about 3 feet from me. All in all the Raccoons got: Marshmallows, 2 dozen chocolate chip cookies (homemade), 4 Reese's peanut butter cups, 2 Hersheys chocolate bars, a bag of walnuts, 1 package of hot dog buns, 1 package of hamburger buns and graham crackers!!!! We were like the gold mine campsite to them and apparently weren't bright enough to outsmart them!

The final night I was awakened by our friend C - he was upset because a Raccoon had lifted the back to the cap of his truck and was getting into our stored food - OY VEY! Poor C, he was beside himself and had tried everything to get the little bandit out. I stealthily (ha) lowered the gate to the back of his pickup and within a minute the Raccoon emerged and made his escape. We spent the next ten minutes trying to figure out how to secure the cab of his truck. The Raccoon was VERY interested in getting back into the food filled cab, and we had to be very vigilant while at the same time tying an electric cord from the bike rack up top to the hitch at the bottom to secure the cab - the rest of the night we heard the angry growls of several Raccoons trying desperately to get into that truck - what a night! I learned that the poor Raccoons have become so accustomed to the wealth of food they steal from campers all summer, that in the winter months, they die of starvation - sad! We had a great time though despite the worms and Raccoons.

The Hunter Jumpers

So, I went to college after Shaker and really, had a wonderful experience. I would never tell someone not to go to college, it was fun, educating (of course), and just something that I'm so glad I experienced. I do regret my student loans though, oh how I wish I would have worked in college to pay for school!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was horseless while in college, but I did join the equestrian team. I went to Western Michigan University btw. Our team had approx. 20 girls. If you were to join the Equestrian team, you basically had two choices. Hunter Jumper or Western. I took that as my opportunity to learn something new, and started taking hunter jumper lessons with a trainer naned Rob. We competed with neighboring colleges: University of Michigan, Michigan State, Findley (Ohio) and a few others. The hosting school provided the horses, and the girls would literally draw Popsicle sticks to determine their mount for each class they were in.

Jumping was a whole 'nother ball game for me. I was under the impression that I was a good rider & that I knew alot. Pshhhhhh....jumping sure put me in my place. Apparently the way I rode in the Morgan world was NOT sufficient for jumping. My legs were all wrong, I did not use my calves at all, my feet were pointed way too straight, my hands were wrong - I even had to ride with a pop bottle to get them right - THE HUMILIATION! After weeks and weeks of on the flat riding, my instructor FINALLY thought I was ready for the ole' jumping thing. I felt so uncoordinated, bopping over those fences. My problem was that my equitation was was fine on the flat but would completely fall apart the second the horse popped over the fence.

On one occasion, I really made a spectacle of myself. My lessons were always group lessons with approx. 5 other girls. We'd line up and wait while each girl took her turn jumping a course that Rob (the instructor) had set up in his indoor arena, the others waited and watched upon their horses. This particular day was to be my first day riding more than just two jumps in a row. I had to do a line of three right in a row, then turn a corner (GASP) and jump two more. Anyway, Rob had two very young daughters, one was about 3 and the other was 6 or 7. The two girls were both in the barn watching us for some reason this day. When my turn came up, I bravely (it took effort for me to do this, lol), gathered my reins and began. The first jump went fine enough, but the horse I was riding balked a bit before the second jump, and I lost my center. She jumped it at the last second and I lost my left stirrup, "F*CK!" I screamed. The third jump consisted of my losing my right stirrup "SH*T!" I yelled. Around the corner we went, the horse on autopilot as I desperately tried to find my stirrups. "SH*T, F*CK!' I bellowed as over the third jump we popped. Now, I was hanging on for dear life, my seat out of the saddle and my arms around the horses neck. Over the fourth jump we sailed (or plopped as the jumps were only like a foot or two off the ground). "Mother EFFER!!!!" I shouted as we completed. As soon as the horse stopped and I righted myself, I noticed everyone was silent. Rob, his girls, the riders, barn help - everyone was staring at me with their mouths open. "Uhhh, Jenny" Rob said, "try to keep your language in check!" He he he.

I competed twice with the WMU equestrian team (always on the flat classes). Once at Findley and once at UofM. Both times I noted that Rob had me as his key rider - must mean he liked my riding skills, that is, he liked my riding when I was NOT jumping. I never did really get good at that. I have alot of appreciation for riders who have the guts to jump. It is very hard work and quite dangerous as well. Those who know me, know I don't like danger ;).

I have pics of this, but my scanner is being a butt ;)

Llamas

Dwyt


Daryl


Doyl

I don't know what it is about Llamas, but I find them so hilarious. I want one some day! Last Fall my hub. mentioned that 'Llama fest' was going on at the pavilion. The pavilion is right near our house and is well known for horse expos, horse shows and apparently 'Llama fest'. I was shocked when he asked if I wanted to go, saying that his coworkers had gone in the past and apparently regaled him with tales of hilarious costume classes and such. Anyway, I was at a horse show in a nearby town, but that evening, where did we go? Llama fest!

I don't know if the pictures above are Llamas or Alpacas, but aren't they funny?

I love 'em!

P.S. They almost look like hillbillies - nice teeth dwyt! I think the middle pic. must be photoshopped.

Addiction

I have a new addiction. It's small, white and versatile with allot of options. It calls to me the moment I set foot in the house, it beckons me with it's saucy song! It's that stupid Wii that my hub. (husband) just bought and I can't get enough of it. It started out innocently enough, just a game of bowling here and there, but then - then he had to buy Super Mario Galaxy! Ughhh - it's like 7th grade all over again when my friend Laura and I would prop ourselves up and play Mario 3 for hours and hours and hours on end. I can't get anything done while Mario and his galaxy are there, water the flowers, sure, when I'm done beating this level! (2 hours later) cook dinner? Sure, wait until I can save this game! (1/2 hour later) Let's get takeout!! I'm the one who thinks that if we ever have kids, video games should be severely limited. I know the seductive power of those stupid machines! "Hi, my name is Jenny, and I'm addicted to Mario."

My poor Hub., he never knew obsession like a girl and her Mario - it's taking me back I tell ya', back to the good ole' days!!

Turkey & A Dream Horse

So, I had Turkey and loved him, but after some time my fifteen year old head decided it was time to up the ante a bit (I think I spelled ante right, but not sure). So, I decided that he would be sold and that I would find a new horse in order to start those victory passes I so dreamed about. Looking back, I feel kind of sad for that behavior, but Turkey was sold to some wonderful people in Texas where he lived out the rest of his life in happiness. One day as an old old man, he lay down underneath a tree and never woke up. I know it sounds unreal, but it's true, I swear. I know he was in his mid twenties, so atleast I know he had it good.

Meanwhile, a new horse for another client of J's was just about to arrive to the farm from Florida. I heard J and the client (her name was Jessie) talking about this new horse, whispering about how gorgeous he was and all that jazz. I felt my skin tingle and welcomed a feeling I began to relish and despise all at once - jealousy. I wondered who this fabulous horse was they were speaking of so secretly and reverently. A week or so passed and my mom and I had been hunting for that perfect horse. Our budget had increased very very slightly with the sale of Turkey, so my hopes were high for a champion (it cracks me up, all we had to spend was $4,000.00), but hey, a girl can dream!

Meanwhile, Jessie's new horse had arrived from Florida, and I was dying to see him. I quickly walked to his stall the next day, and low and behold, the horse of my dreams was before me. My heart sank a bit as I realized, he already belonged to someone. I began barn chores, and as I was finishing up, Jessie showed up with her father to ride this new horse of hers. Jessie merrily began the grooming process, saddled him up and invited me to come watch her lesson. Begrudgingly, I did, even though I knew it would only make me GREEN with envy! Jessie was about 16 at the time, very sweet and outgoing, but she had had a bad horse back riding accident years earlier that made her quite timid on a horse, she really needed a slow, steady and dependable mount to bring back her confidence. I had the distinct feeling that her father was the one pushing her to show horses. I wished that my father would push me to ride horses too!

I watched silently as Jessie lunged her new horse and then mounted him. He was just gorgeous, he was a dark bay with dappling, a stunning delicate head, tiny tippy ears, a slightly shout and full neck with a semi high crest, my favorite! He was the epitome of what a Morgan should be!! Jessie rode her new horse with a look of pride on her face. She jogged him and circled a few times before disaster struck. From no where this new horse of hers planted his feet and began backing so quickly, he'd make the Quarter Horse crowd take notice. He wheeled around and charged forward, then stopped and backed again. Poor Jessie was beside herself and though Jitried to talk her through it, she just couldn't summon the courage to do what needed to be done.

The next week, J called my parents house and asked to speak with me. "Jenny, I have a few horses here at the barn you may be interested in." she began.

My first horse show with Shaker - lovin' my mint green second hand outfit!

She listed them off to me, and be still my beating heart - in that list of horses she mentioned was none other than Jessie's new horse, Shaker's Sierra! She said that Jessie was frightened of Shaker, and that he was testing her a bit too much. Jessie's dad watched with a look of remorse as I got Jessie's gorgeous horse and the mint green western outfit too. I was now the proudest owner of my dream horse (thanks to my mom and her bank) of Shaker's Sierra. Shaker was 15 when we got him, but I didn't care - he was splendid, it was love at first sight and he was mine, mine, mine!!! That's really how dramatic I felt about it too, I promise, I'm not this obnoxious in real life - it's hard for me to put into words without sounding like a fool - ah well, it can't be helped!!

Shaker and I after we won our Hunt Seat Jr. Ex. Class (Jill told us we wouldn't do well, I love it when I prove her wrong)! Shaker's 16 here!

The horse at the top of this blog is Shaker's Sierra and he really was THAT horse for me. I don't think I'll ever own a horse that is as cool as he was - my old Cecil Beesil.

Anyway, Shaker was a handful, but in a controlled way. He snorted and pranced as though he were spring loaded, but he never ever did anything. I tried on several occasions to take him on a trail ride, but he'd snort and balk and spook, so that was a failure. Sometimes he'd launch crazily into his canters (we showed western pleasure mainly) and he'd blow the class completely, but he never failed to turn heads. We took him to open shows occasionally, and people would constantly come up asking us questions about him. People would insist he was an Arabian because of his lovely head others would scold saying that it wasn't fair to the other exhibitors showing that he was there. Shaker and I were great ambassadors to the Morgan breed. Shaker was by the great Troutbrook Playboy, a sire who in my eyes, is one of the breed's best. I will look for horses with his breeding in the future.

Senior pictures - I'm dating myself here, but this was 1998 and Shaker was 16 or 17.
About a year ago, another Shaker prefixed horse with similar breeding to my Shaker arrived at J's barn. He too was a bit too much for his newbie rider and looked similar to my Shaker. The owners needed to sell him, so they had me hop up to tape a video. Ahhh - it was like old times, I cruised around on that hot tamale and just beamed - if only I could buy him! It wasn't to be though.

One thing I had to promise my mom when she bought Shaker for me was that once I graduated high school, he had to be sold. I wish I could say that I was the perfect horse owner my 17th and 18th year, but I began focusing on college, friends and a social life and Shaker enjoyed his life at Jill's without my intrusion on a regular basis.He was sold, like I promised my mom, to a 13 year old girl who showed him in Saddleseat and Hunt seat for a few more years. I wonder about him all the time and hope that somehow Shaker's still alive, he'd be about 26, so it's possible. I would buy him back in a heartbeat if I found him!!

I could go on and on like a dork about Shaker's Sierra - but I'll spare the details of that - it's so mushy and I'm all mushed out for today.

Off Topic

Grand Bend, Ontario ~ Beach

This weekend the hub. (husband) and I are going camping with some friends. This actually has nothing to do with horses, by the way. We're camping in Grand Bend, Ontario (Canada), so although it should be on the cold side, I'm hoping it will be a great time too. Grand Bend is a beach town right off of Lake Huron. It's got lovely sandy beaches and from what I remember a cute little touristy main street with shops galore and a few restaurants and bars.

I've been to Grand Bend several times. My first memory of it was when I was around 12, where I remember trudging up and down the main street trying my best to look cool. I've seen the pictures of me from that trip, and believe me, I did NOT look cool, but I tried. Another trip, during my 16th birthday, my mom took me horse back riding at one of those rent-a-horse places. We both cracked up, we owned a horse, yet we paid for one to ride whenever we got a chance! That particular ride, we rode at the back of the string, and waited for them to get way ahead of us so that we could canter. It was good times!

In college, I dragged Friends up there on two separate occasions. The trips didn't go so well though, both trips were cold and rainy, and it was next to impossible to obtain alcohol (not that we were drunks, just in our early 20's and on 'vacation').

This time around we have a strategy - it's called DUTY FREE - haha!!
Anyway, the temps are supposed to be in the mid to high 60's, so we won't get the beach time, but it'll still be fun! We're camping at the Pinery Provincial Park, and it's just simply gorgeous. They have 3 different campground areas, offer electric sites and have tons of trails and nature-y things to do. I recommend it!!!

The All Morgan

I know that my life with horses (past and present) isn't the most exciting thing, but I'm having a nice stroll down memory lane if I do say so myself. I'm conjuring up the images of horses past and actually getting a little sentimental.

So, Turkey and I made a pretty good team. My riding had progressed to this point, and I was taking some pretty hardcore lessons that sometimes lasted over 2 hours. J had the other riders and I posting without stirrups, doing picture perfect patterns and just practicing until the horses were lathered and the riders were about in tears. This showing business took work, and I could already feel the butterflies forming for my first A rated Morgan show in Detroit, Michigan that July. To tell a bit more about J, she was of the old school variety. No nonsense, no apologies, no compliments and a lot of screaming. At times she'd be sweet as strawberry pie, but mostly, she was grumpy and sometimes down right rude. J was a hefty woman with long hair and a bombastic laugh that would shake the roof of her old barn. I was absolutely terrified of her, as were the other riders at the barn. Though she wasn't the nicest lady, she had some of the best riders around at that time, and I was privileged to learn the finer points of riding under her direction.

As time drew close for my first Morgan horse show, I began feeling the jitters. The nausea set in and I was just a wreck! I planned on riding Turkey in the Jr. Exhibitor Hunt Seat classes, and he was an angel preparing for this division. I have absolutely no memories of Turkey ever acting up under saddle. Earlier that year, my dad surprised me with a two horse stock trailer. Though it wasn't fancy and didn't have a dressing room or anything, it was new and it was mine; something I never thought I'd have. We hauled it with a baby blue conversion van *Sigh* I'm sure we were a sight pulling into the fairgrounds with the rig! We saved tons of money on hauling fees though, and that was the point!!!

So, the day before the show was to begin, I began the preparations. I clipped my own horse (the other girls paid barn staff to do it), I bathed my own horse, I polished my saddle and bridle and hand sanded my horses hooves. I loaded up the trailer and tack box and then sat and watched the clock until it was time to go. We loaded Turkey up and made the 45 minute haul almost into downtown Detroit (Ferndale to be exact). I remember seeing the grand coliseum (built in 1922) in the distance as we neared the fair grounds and the butterflies turned to nausea, THAT was the show ring? I felt as though I was in the big time! Though the Michigan All Morgan horse show is Michigan's largest morgan show, it had at the time some very competitive entries (and still does to this day I might add). We unloaded, found where Jhad us stabled and settled in. I couldn't wait to get into the huge arena, so I tacked sweet Turkey up and headed over. I will never forget that first moment jogging up the rubber matted entrance, the clomp clomp, clomp of my horses hooves as we emerged into a huge ring with actual arena seating all around (seats 5,600). There were other riders in the ring, some lounging horses, others hand walking and others still, riding. Some Saddle Seat, Western, Hunt Seat and even Dressage. I was enthralled with it all, and longed to be a first class rider! I warmed Turkey up and then my mom, friend Laura and I headed to the Holiday Inn for some dinner and sleep. All I can recall about the rest of that night is a very nervous stomach and a lot of bathroom time (aka barfing - sorry).

The show itself was spectacular in my eyes, I didn't place incredibly well, a lot of 4ths, 5ths and some 6ths, but I didn't care. I was finally in the show ring with my own show horse. I did begin to notice that some of the other girls in my barn were getting a lot of 1st place ribbons. I wondered how nice it must feel to get a victory lap and those loud cheers they provoked. I also was just getting to know some of the more obnoxious aspects of the show ring. What was up with the hollering and bellowing that some of the trainers carried on with while their riders were in the ring? I also noticed that J was being awfully rude to my mom and I as well as a few other families at her barn. She definitely had her favorites, and it showed. She'd order us around, snap at us and in general had very little patience for us. I knew I was afraid of Jill, but I was beginning to dislike her now too.

*there is a lot to tell about J(whom I still have a relationship with).

Turkey Hill's Esquire

0Turkey Hill's Esquire Circa 1995 - Notice the tapered Stone washed jeans!

Eventually, I was able to convince my mom that I needed a Morgan horse so that I could compete at horse shows with J's farm. We put Flashy up for sale, and withing a month or so had sold him to an older lady who needed a bomb proof horse. The lady was recently diagnosed with MS, and was also a very mild mannered rider. She had another horse at home who was proving to be just a bit much for her. The other horse was a lovely Arabian mare who was young and simply didn't have the miles under her cinch. I did visit Flashy a month or so after he was sold. It was sort of sad, the horse who was a go anywhere do anything kind of horse for me for years, had resorted to his old ways with his new owner. Apparantly he was really acting up and when she would try to ride him away from the property, he was swinging back around and taking off for home. Either the lady didn't have the experience or strength to nip those activities in the bud and they had escalated to the point that he was even attempting to throw her up against fence posts and trees. It was a sad thing to see for both Flashy and his new owner. She did love him though, and as far as I know kept him until he passed away at a ripe old age.

In the meantime, the hunt was on for a new horse for moi. We were on a S T R I C T budget, so the majority of horses we looked at were of the older variety. We finally settled on and purchased a 16 year old bay gelding with a parrot mouth and four white socks. His name was Turkey Hill's Esquire. Although he had a parrot mouth, he was a nice looking guy; well versed in the show ring and PERFECT manners under saddle. He did however, have EVIL ground manners. He was without a doubt the grumpiest horse I had ever known. Upon entering his stall, he'd flatten his ears and swing around as if to charge the intruder. He scared quite a few people, but his advances were just a bluff. He did manage to bite a few people over his stall though - ouch!

The Morgan Barn

After that first lesson, which cost more than my mom probably wanted to spend (but otherwise normal as far as riding lesson expenses went), I begged my mom for a weekly sessions, she didn't really say no, but she didn't say yes either. "Where is the money to pay for these lessons going to come from?" She asked me.

I answered that I would get a job. "Who is going to hire a 12 year old girl?" she asked.

"A horse farm." I matter of factly pointed out.

At my next lesson, I rode Dandy again, and still felt the same regarding my riding skills. As I was cleaning up my horse after the lesson and sweeping the floors from his hoof cleaning and Spring shedouts, J, the trainer pointedly said "You wanna' job?"

So, with that I began working and taking lessons on a regular basis.

To describe the farm a bit more, it's very old and quite large. It has approximately 40 box stalls and 8 standing stalls. I believe the farm sits on 15 acres. The barn consists of what Jill calls sections - it's all attached though. The front section, middle section, back left and back right. When I first began riding there, horses were brimming from every corner of the farm. All of the stalls were occupied and then there were about 10 outdoor horses. Chores were chaotic and had to be coordinated or it would take forever and a day to complete.

The horses, ohhhh the horses, they were the prettiest I had ever seen. They were bay, black and chesnut with pretty little heads and beautiful archy necks. They seemed to prance when they jogged/trotted and I felt as though I were riding a real live carusel horse when I rode one. They were smooth as butter and sweet as pie - they had fire in their eyes but cool sensibility - they were Morgan horses and I was in love.

My mom was even impressed with the Morgans. She had remembered the old style Morgans in her youth and had gotten a bad taste in her mouth from them. Although she still maintains her love of the Quarter Horse breed, she admits there's nothing quite like a nice Morgan. I on the other hand had found my breed of choice! I almost always took group lessons and rode with the boarders who were part of the boarding/show clientele. I admired those girls and longed to first, own my own Morgan and second, compete at the Morgan shows too. My first step was to convince my mom the same.

The picture up top is not mine - I just like the horse as an example of a typical NICE Morgan!

Not so Wordless Wednesday

Not so wordless Wednesday ~ these are just some of the many photos we have of our wedding day last June 21st. Our first anniversary is coming up ~ I want a horse for OUR anniversary, something tells me I'm getting a card though - dang it! Anyway, we got married on Mackinac Island, Michigan and it was a wonderful, beautiful, magical, bla bla bla day! I'll write more about it later :).

The lessons begin

As I mentioned in the previous post, Laura began taking lessons in the indoor arena her father built at their farm (I know, LUCKY girl - can you blame me for hating her at first)? Sometimes I was allowed to ride Flashy in the lesson with her, but the poor horse didn't know his right lead from his left, and most definitely didn't know how to canter without first trotting as fast as he possibly could. But he and the horse trainer humored me anyway. It didn't take long for me to realize that I actually didn't know much about the mechanics of horse riding like I thought I did. What exactly was a right lead anyway? Hmmmm, diagonals? Hunt seat? Equitation, what?!? I was now keeping Flashy part time at Laura's farm and part time at the barn with Bridget. I know he and Bridget missed each other, but I was on a mission. Flash now knew what it was like to be kept in a stall, and he did not like it! This was a horsey horse, not a stall kept ninny - at least that's what he tried telling me.

Like I said earlier, Laura was beginning to show at local Tennessee Walking Horse shows. At that time, early 90's, the Walking Horse Shows weren't very big here in Michigan. They usually were held at someones farm where the horses were just tied to trailers. Some of the people at the shows didn't know a thing about what they were doing, while others seemed seasoned and polished. Laura usually cleaned up in the Equitation division and did pretty well in every other class as well. It wasn't long before she was the one to beat. She had people coming up to her all the time with flattering comments on her riding abilities and horse's quality. I began wanting for THAT kind of attention myself. No longer did trail riding seem sufficient, I had no idea that a whole 'nother horse world existed.

I began pestering my mother for riding lessons. "You already have a horse and ride just fine," she'd try to reason with me. I insisted, so after a while, she took me to the nearest horse farm she could think of. This particular farm was a big Morgan Horse facility about 3 miles from my parents house. It had been there all through my mom's childhood, so she knew of it. Though she didn't particularly like Morgans, she assumed that after a few lessons, I'd wisen up and be satisfied with my little horse at home.

I remember my very fist lesson like it was yesterday. I chose to ride hunt seat because I'd never done it before. The barn owner and trainer (we'll call her J) scheduled me for a semi private lesson with the older riders in her barn (13-16 year olds). She stuck me on an older gelding named Merriweather B Dandy and away we went. I flopped around on that poor horse like a dead fish. I couldn't figure out my diagonals, my canter stunk and I couldn't make this seasoned show and lesson horse set his head for the life of me. "LEFT RIGHT, LEFT RIGHT!!!" Jiwould yell, it just wasn't registering. I left that lesson feeling dejected, hopeless and completely hooked. My horse life would never be the same!

Flash Cont.

Flashy and I in our early days together. I was about 8 or 9. Please don't judge, this was the 80's :).

With Flashy, I had many adventures. The horse himself wasn't much to look at. He had a very low tail set and a strange pointy rump - it's hard to explain. He was small at 14'2 Hands, and didn't have the best temperment. He nipped, balked and was plain old grumpy. Aside from those negative qualities, Flashy was a beautiful coppery red Chestnut color with a blaze and three socks. Although he was a grumpus, he had a heart of gold and would do anything and go anywhere he was asked (sometimes I had to ask twice or thrice) but he always went. At first, my mom and I always went together on our "trail" rides, but in my mind, that wasn't enough. My mom was a busy lady, she worked full time and had to take care of my little brother, my dad and I. So, the once every other weekend if the weather was nice rides we took - didn't cut it for me.

I began walking the mile to the barn, saddling Flash up and riding him myself. Of course there wasn't an arena at the barn he was kept at, so I rode him down the relatively busy road he was kept on. Flashy and I would plug along, usually riding back to my parents house where I would cajole my mom to come pick me up from the barn when I was done. I think I was around 11 when I started doing this. Poor Flashy was mostly good to me. One time, I was saddling Flashy up and he reached around and nipped me in my breast, right through my training bra. Of course I was about 12 or 13 so there wasn't much there, but it HURT. I learned really fast what to and not to do when cinching up that gelding. I have many many memories of riding Flashy all over the place. Some of the greatest moments of my time with Flashy would be the summer of my 12th year, imagine that.

There was a girl who lived down the dirt road from my parents, whose name was Laura. Now, Laura just so happened to live on a big horse farm of all places. She road my bus and I knew who she was alright. I hated her in fact. I didn't hate her because of any obvious reason, she had never said or done anything to me. I hated her for the simple fact that she lived on a horse farm, and I did not. Laura was a thin girl with dark shiny hair and a beautiful olive complexion. I was a thin girl with pale skin, freckles and unruly curly, iron dyed hair (those of you raised on well water would understand). Now, at 12 things were changing with my friends at school. One friend in particular had "blossomed" and she was beginning to hang out with a different group of people, she was also getting very interested in boys and makeup, where I was not. That summer, I spent alot of time alone - my friend was off with her new friends or out with some boy that her parents didn't know about and the others lived too far from my house to see them regularly. I don't remember how it happened, if it was me or Laura who called, but we decided one day to go for a bike ride after our parents harrassed us to call one another. After the bike ride, I don't think we seperated for longer than a day. We were fast friends and spent every waking moment together - I think I lived at her house for a summer - bless her parents' hearts. Even though Laura lived on a farm full to the brim with Tennessee Walking horses, she and I chose to ride double on my little Quarter Horse, Flashy. We spent hours and hours upon that horse - laughing and talking and goofing around. Sometimes the horse trainer who worked for her parents would come along on her horse, and Laura would have the nerve to take one of her horses out for a spin. She was more nervous at that time, and because her horses had never really been away from the farm, her parents were hesitant to allow her to ride without adult supervision. So, it was with Flashy and I that Laura rode - that was fine with us! After some time, Laura began taking lessons and getting quite into showing her walking horses. I spent many many days with her at these shows, and boy did I catch the horse show fever, and bad. My poor mom had no idea what was coming.

There really isn't anything funny or exciting to tell with this post (not that there ever was) but it's an integral part of my life, and without that summer, I would never have met a girl who was my best friend through high school and a life long friend now. Through Laura I got into horse shows and lessons and learned a thing or two about Walking Horses too!

If I continue to post, I'm sure she'll come up again!

On a side not, I did alot of things wrong as a kid. I never had formal lessons and learned what I knew from my mom, who grew up riding, but never had lessons herself. We were rough and tumble cowgirls in those days. I never wore a helmet - not good, but I survived. I did stupid things with my poor horse that I cringe to think of now. I did eventually take many years of hard core lessons and learned to properly ride and care for horses...these are all tales to tell in the future - bare with me and try not to judge :).