Bella Yesterday

Not quite a full milk bag. She's tired, but reasonably happy. Not waxed over yet. Baby has dropped. Come on, Bella, we all want you to be on the other side of this!

TDM Hot to Trot in Vegas!

Look at him go. Just one year old and he was jumping over 3 feet.

Amigo on a Night Time Trail Ride

Amigo is a bit of a silly horse, we've all come to agree here at Chiron's Grove. When he goes on a trail ride, we gather a list of the things that make him stop to consider his situation before moving forward. Now, that would be simple, except that when Amigo decides to move forward, few horses are as brave as he is about doing what he's asked to do.

This was never more evident than tonight.

We have a new resident here at the Grove, and that is our farrier, Cordell of Smart Shoeing (his last name is actually "Smart," lucky guy). Cordell moved in yesterday to the apartment in the basement. He will be handling the morning feedings and helping in lots of general ways (including shoeing, yay for that). Cordell is really good at controlling horses, obviously, because he has to stand underneath them all the time and work on their feet. And Cordell also used to ride in a scrappy sort of way as a kid. Same as me, come to think of it. You know, the kind of riding where your pony might just jump the log you asked him to, or he might stop, look at you, and then roll. Or jump in the pond. You just learned to deal with these things as a farm kid.

Anyway, Cordell hasn't had much time to ride in quite a while, what with being in the military, getting married, having three children, and running a farrier business. But he wanted to get back into it.

We've been without a car here for the summer, and as a result, I've learned what it's like to use horses for transportation. Especially since Rocket got here, I've loved my trips to places like the Spear St. Store and Magic's house to check on Bella. Checking on Bella has become a nightly thing. I go and get Rocket, then head off over to Magic's house to see how she's doing (when is that foal coming, anyway?). Although I try to get this done early enough to have daylight the whole way, as the days get shorter, more and more of my ride is in darkness.

So tonight, Cordell was here and he wanted to come along. So along with Rocket we saddled up Amigo. Amigo the cautious. Amigo the homebody.

We left when the stars were out, and by the time we got home the stars were like a carpet on the sky. In between, Amigo faced numerous challenges.

First, just going up the driveway at that time of day (8 pm) was a challenge. He'd rather not go. He liked it just fine in the barn. Okay, the corral. Okay, maybe just the driveway. But not the road, definitely not the r-- all right, all right, if you're going to slap my butt with that stupid baling twine... and so Cordell got him along, one way or another, until we got to the covered bridge.

I've been doing this ride with Rocket quite a bit. I expected him to cross the bridge nicely for me. But it was completely dark by the time we got there, no moon, nothing but starlight, and Rocket saw that bridge as being full of hiding places for cougars (remember, he was a wild stallion for years before he was trained). No way, no how was he going over that bridge. I capitulated and got off him. Usually that's enough. I have this trick that I do with horses who don't want to go somewhere. I stand just behind the left ear, stroke and maybe scratch the neck a little, and whisper, "Hey, let's do it together. We're partners." For a lot of horses, and usually with Rocket, this works. Most horses just want to feel like they're not alone. But even that wonderful trick completely failed to move him into the teeming shadow of the covered bridge.

Clip clop. Suddenly Amigo was passing us, walking in his high-stepping way onto the bridge. Rocket relaxed and followed him. It seems that Cordell and Amigo had had a conversation and Amigo had decided to trust Cordell cross the bridge for him. See? that's what I like about Amigo. He'll balk and balk, but once he decides to do what you ask, nobody is braver.

So off we went after the bridge up to Magic's house to see how Bella is doing. We did a little jogging. Well, Rocket jogged (he's just getting the hang of the Western jog), and Amigo did this sort of walk-really-fast, trot-a-little thing to keep up with us. Not exactly comfortable for Cordell on a bareback saddle.

This part of our ride was with Lewis Creek on our right and a large meadow on our left. I looked up, and saw the Milky Way like a path in front of us. I didn't want to stop looking at those stars.

When we got past the open area, Amigo had a problem going under the trees and into the shadows again. Rocket was the guy in good form this time. He relaxed and stood very still while we waited for Amigo and Cordell. I was proud of him. Rocket likes to move, and for him, the training challenge has been to teach him to relax and not to burn energy unless it's needed. So when he chills out and cocks a rear foot while I sit on him on a dark road, I feel pretty darn proud.

Cordell and Amigo talked, and Amigo considered, and Cordell encouraged him, and Amigo balked, so finally Rocket and I walked back to them. I gave Cordell an apple I had in my pocket. Maybe he just needed a little endorphin kick to relax and head into those shadows.

Nope.

So Rocket and I swung around behind him and pushed him from behind (not pushed as in pressed against him; pushed in the horse sense of putting pressure on him just by moving towards one of his pressure points--in this case, his hip). I flopped my reins in a very loose and silly way across his rump. He finally moved out, and kept moving out as we went up the final hill to Magic's house.

So we went there, and we laid hands on Bella to see how she was (skinny, for a pregnant mare, and extremely tired). Cordell let the horses graze and then handed them over to me and messed a bit with Rosie's feet (Rosie is a two-year-old black Percheron filly, so her feet are a bit hard to lift). I stood with the horses and looked up again at the stars. What a night for stars!

Then we started home again. Amigo needed a bit of herding to get started, and he stopped once on the way home because he saw the horses we had just left as they walked in front of the back porch light. At one point both horses shied and gave a wide berth to a point in a field where we couldn't see anyting. Could have been a fox, or a bobcat, or a fisher... only the horses knew.

As we went home, I couldn't just look ahead. Most of the time I had my neck craned so I could watch those fascinating stars. Saw a shooting one, once. Identified the north star, and the big dipper, and Cassiopeia, and the little dipper; but the Milky Way was the path that led directly from Magic & Alan's house to my house. If we had been gods, we would have walked the Milky Way carpet on our immortal steeds to go from one house to the other. As it was, we only felt like gods, and our steeds were only normal horses--but even as such, they felt like the creatures that could lead us to eternal and spiritual places. Even Amigo, for whom the whole trip out and back was a long challenge to his nerves.

But he did it. We came home around 10 pm, safe and sound (I wonder if Amigo remembers those safe arrivals home when he goes out on another scary adventure? I doubt it.).

Off with the saddles; scratches for both horses where the saddles maybe itched them; into the paddock with their friend Vegas, a few flakes of hay, and lots of fresh, cold water.

During those hourse, riding in the darkness, Cordell and I spoke of nothing but the things that were happening right then and there, and that only when words were needed because nothing else would do. The best rides are like that. On the best rides, riders enter communion with our horses that easily replaces nattering words that puncture the largeness and emptiness of spirit to which our horses unconsciously lead us. It was clip clop, and a craned neck looking at the stars, and one shooting star, and the steaming of our breath and our horses' flanks.

Few things are as good as a night-time ride. And Amigo, despite his fears and his nervousness, managed to carry his rider through the whole experience. He probably doesn't know to be proud of himself, but I know to be proud of him.

Good boy, Amigo. And Rocket, what an excellent job you did helping your friend along.

Mikey's Birthday

This was us the morning of August 23rd. I'm not sure how to clean up the audio, though I'd like to.

What a wonderful birthday breakfast! Both of us enjoyed every minute of it. Afterwards, we went to Barnes & Noble and got some books for both boys.

Our Delightful Friends

Look at these delightful girls! They are Clementine and Nina. They stayed with us for a month. This post is dedicated to them.

Dear Nina and Clem,

Everybody here misses you. Especially Memphis, who is tossing her head more than ever, but looks so nicely muscled since all the attention she got while you were here.

Dante was sick three nights ago--very sick. He was lying down and getting back up again, pawing the ground, and looking at his stomach. As you know he has been through this before, so I walked him a little and let him get to the hay. He was passing manure, so I thought maybe this was his usual bout of ulcer pain.

But the next morning I woke up very early because of some loud banging in the barn. I went to see, and found Dante down in a stall, clearly having been there most of the night, and in a lot of pain. The banging was from him kicking the sides of the stall. He hadn't drunk any water, either, which is very strange for him. I couldn't get him up, so I called the vet and then started brushing him as he lay on the ground. He closed his eyes and relaxed. After a while, he tried to get up, and this time succeeded. We started walking up and down the driveway until the vet arrived.

Treatment was for pain, and then eight bags (boluses) of fluids that we gave him intravenously. The vet left some more bags to give him and instructions for his continuing care.

But Dante seemed to rally. He still seemed to be in some pain, but he also had a bit of an appetite and began drinking water on his own. I let him into the yard but locked his stall. He wanted to go in there and lie down, which would have been the wrong choice since we wanted him to pass manure and gas.

That afternoon, the vet called. She had taken a blood sample and said his protein was extremely low (2.5 when it should have been 6 to 8). She thought perhaps he had Potomac Horse Fever. He needed 5 days of IV antibiotics. If I paid $500 right then, and $400 more, they would treat him.

I don't like that vet very much because that is their M.O. Treat a horse, charge way too much for the treatment, and then say that more & expensive treatment can be had but only for cash on the table. They've done that before.

Thing is, I don't think he has Potomac Fever. He has chronic issues in his gut, as we already know. And gut issues can cause low blood protein. Why look any further? He probably had a bad bout with his ulcers because we went for a ride and left him behind (I had heard him banging on his stall as we rode up the driveway). He was so worked up and upset that he had an episode like many that we've nursed him through before. A GI leak of any kind lowers blood protein. What he needed for treatment was relief from pain, IV fluids as we did, and then as quick a return to peaceful, normal life as we could give him. So I thanked the vet and said I'm sorry, but I can't afford that treatment. We'll see what we can do with old farmer techniques.

So I brushed him more--lots more--to stimulate the autonomic nervous system and make him feel calm and happy. Then my brother in law helped me saddle Rocket, and Rocket and I led Dante on a nice, calm walk down to Mel's meadow. As we reached the meadow, Dante's mood changed. He relaxed and seemed very happy to be there. "Ah, home," his attitude said.

So Jack, Vegas, and Dante spent yesterday and the night before in the meadow. I brought them back last night. Dante was running in the meadow and seems a bit weakened but definitely over the episode. We'll continue our regimen as before, four feedings a day rather than two, hay or grass in front of him at all times, plenty of water, and that daily ride to keep him feeling like he has an important place in the world, a job to do.

Aside from that, the only news is that Rachelle has begun driving Jack with surcingle and reins. We also had him pulling the cart a little. He didn't seem to mind it until I sat on it, silly guy, and then he realized that he was pulling something.

It's quiet here without you and your family. The horses aren't being ridden as much, of course, with only two of us to ride (Danny and me). But Rachelle is here more often and it looks like Elizabeth is going to learn to ride. She rode Dante last week and had a lesson with Rachelle. That was really fun for her. We also went on a trail ride, Rocket leading Dante while Elizabeth rode him. Elizabeth took one tumble when Dante jumped a creek to keep up with Rocket, but she was all ready to keep up the riding lessons anyway.

Van is coming back, either next week or two weeks later, because my surgery is either next Friday or two Fridays later, depending on the health insurance.

I hope you've had a wonderful time in Canada, and we all think of you often as you begin another year of school. I am hoping so much that things go for you, Clementine, as you hope. It would be so lovely to have you living somewhere nearby as you go to college.

Beijos to you both,
Sheila

Still Reeling

When I woke up this morning I had my normal thoughts about children, horses, what the day holds--and then I remembered yesterday's bad news.

I don't know how we're going to save Chiron's Grove. We were already struggling and trying to find ways to bring in more money. Now I don't see how we can stay here.

I talked to our landlord. He's willing to take less money temporarily, but eventually he will want to be paid back. He wants to find a way for us to work together.

But when I look at it dispassionately, the picture is grim. We don't have a car; I won't have the use of my right arm for months to come and even now deal with pain every day; and people are tightening their wallets and spending less on horses. I can't train without assistance.

However, if I move to a less expensive county, I run the risk of losing my children.

The bizarre thing is, the court ruling is based on the fact that the childrens' lifestyles are basically the same in both houses. But that was before the court lowered the child support payments. I don't understand, I don't understand....

Perhaps writing is a bad idea until I start feeling some hope. It seems right now that every effort I make, all the cleverness I apply in trying to maintain things for the kids, is just a new invitation for somebody to slam a big hammer down and pound us back into difficulties. And this injury doesn't help. It's just discouraging when you have to evaluate every move you make based on how much it's going to hurt: how to pick up the scoop, how to fill it, how to cut the bales open, how to lift a mug into the microwave, how to open the refrigerator or open a door. I've taught all the horses to let me lead them on the wrong side, bless their hearts, and they do seem to understand not to pull on me.

To my friends, I haven't forgotten that you're there. Your love and understanding are like balm. I need to figure out what to do, though, and one concern is that my problems don't affect your lives. Sometimes I feel like this vortex of misfortune that could suck you all in if you reached out to help me too much.

It's all a bit foggy, now. I can't see through to the next good place.

Right now, I guess, is about right now. It's about working and having breakfast and working some more. It will be about hoping the hay comes today and finding either Rachelle or somebody else to help me with some training tasks. Also about writing ads.

Might as well get started.

How Much Bad News Can One Divorce Make?

1) My tenant has destroyed the house I rented to him. Holes in the wall, overflowing toilets, boarded up windows, trash packed into every corner, dog urine, black paint, broken appliances--you name it, he did it. So much for my only asset. I found this out today.

2) The magistrate, in her infinite wisdom, has decided against making the wealthy parent pay any more than the bare minimum the law requires for his children. Hence, our income is now reduced by $1600 per month. As of today.

So currently, I'm crying and reaching out to my friends. I have good friends. Isn't that enough to make up for the above?

Maybe I'll know later today. Just now, I'm reeling.

I went out and sat among the horses. They have a perspective on this stuff. Sniff sniff, they say. Then Munch munch, but not too far away. In their world, when somebody is upset, you just continue munching, but kinda close. Eventually the peace of the herd absorbs whatever agitation happened. You are not you, when you're in a herd. You are sort of you, but you are also wholly the herd. Two yous, in a way, but the lesser is absorbed by the greater consciousness. This removes your burdens. Munch munch in the rhythm of the herd. Grass is good, flies are bad, water is delicious and we love the giver of the grain when she gives it. When she's sad, we care, but munch munch and swish swish. Around her.

Alone at Home (Sort of )

Magic and I went for a ride on Amigo and Rocket yesterday. We did the loop--the one with the most beautiful views in the world. Amigo did all right. He was pretty pokey at first, but once we left the road he perked up and was able to catch up within a minute or two of any given run. He did his rocking horse canter. Magic said he was a lot of work at first, needing so much urging, but then he was ok.

Back from the ride, tired, feeding the horses.... and afterwards Memphis decided to go explore the field next door. Now, the next door neighbors see nothing nice about having horses grazing their field that they pay to have brush-hogged, so they have put up a fence between the properties to keep our horses out if they break through my fence. But they did a lousy job. The fence is so high that Memphis went right under it. Took her about 10 seconds to get past it. So I sighed and went after her, caught her, and tried to bring her back. Nothing doing. The fence was very easy to go under when you are going where you want to go, but pony style, Memphis was positive that going under the fence the other way was completely impossible. So all my ignorant and self-centered neighbors managed to accomplish was to make it harder for me to get any breakaways off their property.

I flipped the house the bird, unfastened the fence at one of its many weak points, led Memphis home and fed the herd. Then I trudged back out there and fixed the fence where I had unfastened it, rather regretting the bird-flipping.

The people who live in that house have no idea that the whole meadow the house sits in was once the main meadow for my barn. And they don't care. The fact that they have a large field that they pay to have mowed, while I struggle daily to move my horses a much further distance along the road, has nothing to do with them, really, and I do get that. But Vermont is changing. The farmers who have made Vermont what it is are having very hard times continuing to defend their livelihoods as they are pushed slowly off their lands by wealthy flatlanders who have come here to enjoy the beauty they are strangling.

But they have a legal right to do this. The woman next door has so much money that all she has to do is wish for something and it happens. I struggle for heat and hot water, and sometimes don't have them. I have no car because I had to sell mine when the crazy court system took a wild turn on my case. I'm facing painful surgery and dramatically reduced functioning for at least 3 months and probably longer. If they were to let my horses graze their field, the horses would be safer, I would have hours less of work, and so on. But they prefer their privacy, and really I have no right even to think enviously how their land could make my life easier. I don't even know why I do it. I'm the one in the wrong here, not they. But still, I think that if the shoe were on the other foot, I could teach them a thing or two about neighborliness.

Mel, on the other hand, is about as good a neighbor as a person could possibly want. She has offered us her large meadow, and been patient while we deal with fencing issues. She is okay with us using her water source, even her electricity to charge the fence. All of this from the goodness of her heart. Magic and Alan have one of my horses on their land and they take care of him as well as I would.

I guess that's life. People are people. You take them as they come, and try not to resent too much the impact privilege and insulated attitudes have on those of us who hold our lives together sometimes with a wish and a roll of scotch tape.

It's the American way, this individualism. Supposedly. Every man for himself.

Except sometimes.

Amigo Takes a Giant Leap

I've been wanting to write about this since it happened.

This is a picture of Amigo, and he is the star of this story.

Nina (our young French friend from the Seraphim family) and I went for a trail ride on Rocket (me) and Amigo (her). We rode over to Alan & Magic's place, up past their house and into the woods that Woody and Andy own. Then we rode down the trail and around, following Lewis Creek. It was hot and buggy, but riding is always fun so we sweated in the sun by the creek as we walked. But then I had this brilliant idea: to cross Lewis Creek and make a beeline for home. I was sure that home was straight...that way.

I asked Nina, what do you think? Right across the stream there is a trail that will take us straight home. Want to try crossing. She shrugged and said, "Why not?"

So I picked a spot that looked shallow. The creek is very full from all the rain we've had, so this wasn't easy. But below a dam looked pretty good. Rocket picked his way down to the water, sniffed it, walked slowly in, and then picked up speed as the water got deeper, and deeper, and then I thought, "Oh, please, don't fill up my boots!" but it did. And then I was just hoping that the saddle wouldn't go under, but it did, and the next thing, I'm up to my chest in water, Rocket has nothing but his nose out & forward as he strikes out for the opposite bank. A few seconds later he found ground under his feet and heaved us up and into the trees on the opposite side. I turned around to see how Amigo was doing, just in time to see him land in the middle of the creek as Nina slid off to the side. The splash was like the biggest cannonball you ever heard. Wild-eyed, Amigo struck out for where he'd seen his buddy disappear into the trees and heaved himself across in about a second, he was so scared. The poor guy apparently thought he could jump over, and was freaked out to find himself in water. Nina swam philosophically to the shore while Rocket and I cornered Amigo. She got out, started wringing out her shirt, and remarked in her French accent, "I took a bath."

God I love trail rides. All the way home, I kept giggling.

Why I Haven't Written Much Lately

Apparently my shoulder is pretty badly torn up due to a fall in my driveway this past April (yes, it was still icy). It has three separate injuries that I've circled.

How I've managed to get along since April with a shoulder that messed up is a story of good friends and farm employees stepping in to fill the void. It's also a story of denial: each day I woke up to pain and spent the day in pain encouraging every thought that it was a little better than yesterday, maybe, and ignoring impulses to stop doing the things that are a part of my life at Chiron's Grove. It is a story too of Van becoming gradually more insistent that something be done, and finally of having such a bad week that I gave in and went to see Bunky Bernstein, my doctor and near neighbor. Then came the MRI--a desperate expense--and finally the diagnosis and the plan. Fortunately, Mel (of Mel's Meadow, where we keep the horses when the fences are in good repair) tracked down the information I needed to get health insurance through a program in the state of Vermont that is offering financial help and covering preexisting conditions. Every time I talk to her, Mel has another idea for making sure I find the help I need.

So here is the plan: surgery as soon as the insurance is in place, followed by two weeks of mostly pain management, followed by another four weeks of keeping my arm in the sling, followed by a year of rehabilitation before reaching a point of maximum use (note that this is not the same as full recovery--apparently the biceps tendon will be in a new place and one or two other changes will be permanent).

The farm can't survive this unless I do the hard thing and ask my friends to help. So here it is, to all and sundry, a request for help. What I need is for anybody who can to come and stay for a week or so with me during the first several months of this saga, to help with moving hay and water and mucking out stalls, to ride the horses (if you can), and to help with training and spoiling my diverse herd.

I will be selling as many horses and ponies I can, but the basic three will remain: Dante (whom I love and whom Danny rides), Rocket (who is Van's horse), and Meg (who isn't here yet, but who is to be my long-awaited endurance trail horse).

The others are all for sale: Memphis ($4500), Vegas ($950), Jack ($950), and Cocoa ($1250). Their descriptions are on our website under "Horses for Sale."

My Goal

Since I was a little girl, I've wanted to ride like this.



But the real dream, the romantic dream that is almost embarrassing to admit, is to be able to ride like this on long trail rides that last days and lead to places few people have seen.

Let it be so, some day.