Not horse related....

This morning, as I was preparing to start my eleven o'clock class (ENG 111 - the basic composition course that every student has to take), one of my students turned to me and told me the most wonderful news.  She had scored very well (nearly perfect) on a writing assignment in another class - this assignment required her to do research, use citations, and develop her ideas in a highly organized fashion.  She smiled as she said, "The teacher told me that it was easy to read."  She knew I'd love that.  After all, it's something that I've repeated about a thousand times since the start of the semester - your writing is all about your audience.  How do you get your ideas, your knowledge, your experiences across to someone who doesn't live inside your head?  She obviously "got it."  And she knew that that statement was a fantastic compliment to her writing. 

That is the kind of moment that makes me want to keep doing this forever.  I love it when students recognize the impact of what we talk about in composition - when they see how the concepts translate from one context to another - when they engage in active transfer (a buzzword in the education world) from one class to the next.  Seeing students make connections is what makes my day.  Isn't that really what so much of our lives are about?  Connection?  Connection to one another...connection between that beautiful image in a poem to the way we feel about our spouses...connection from that discussion in anatomy to the lecture in graphic design...connection between that truth in one area to the truth in another.  When a student, thoughtful and wrestling with ideas, starts a sentence with, "It's kind of like..." I just want to go ahead and say "Yes" before I ever hear what that student is connecting to.  It doesn't matter, really, in the end - what matters is the fact that a connection was made - a tiny thread that links one idea to another.  Eventually, more threads emerge, and the student begins to weave a tapestry of knowledge that decorates the space inside her head.  I think that is quite possibly the  most beautiful creation in the world.   

Fingers crossed

Just a quick note...

Keeping my fingers crossed this week.  Michele is going to ask the barn owners to supply alfalfa pellets for her mare and for Obe.  That way, I can take her (Obe...not Michele) completely off grain.  I'm excited to try that, hoping that maybe it will help with the random spookiness (which ONLY happens when I ask her to work) and general distractedness, especially when we're alone in the arena. 

So, hopefully soon...these....

Will be going into these....

Cycles...phases...whatever

I think we've gotten the whole "feed the horse too much grain" thing figured out.  For the last week and a half, Obe's gotten the correct amount of feed, and she's also been fed the correct number of supplement cups (I've kept count).  The gas and pooping while riding have stopped...she has NEVER been one to poop while I'm riding her, so that was another sign of her gastric distress last week. 

However, even with all that "fixed," she's still a bit crazy.  I rode her in the outdoor yesterday, and we were alone for most of the time.  I walked forever...and she stretched beautifully, taking big, swingy strides and giving both sides of her jaw in flexion and counter-flexion.  I did a thousand and one trot transitions - six or seven strides of trot, back to walk, six or seven strides of trot, back to walk.  I wanted to warm her up slowly, and I wanted to make the ride as positive as possible given how sketchy our rides have been over the past week and a half.  After being out for about 30 minutes, she started her "I'm suddenly scared to go in one area of the arena" act.  We were trotting happily along for a brief distance when she suddenly put on the brakes, her ears went forward HARD, and she started backing up.  For the rest of the ride, I could hardly get her ears to flip back to me.  Ugh....

Maybe I'm doing too much concentrating on her ears.  However, when I read the book by Yvonne Barteau, she mentioned ALWAYS being able to "get an ear" as a requirement for the work she does with horses.  Mary Wanless also mentions it in one of her books...how "getting an ear" is important to know what the horse is focusing on.  I HARDLY ever am able to "keep" Obe's ears for one circuit of the arena.  She is always focused on the barn...whether we're in the indoor or the outdoor, anytime we're pointing that direction, her ears are hard forward.  She still moves off my leg, she'll still flex/counterflex (usually), and do what I ask...but she's ignoring me otherwise.  If another horse is being brought down to the barn, she focuses on that.  If the neighbor is in his garden, she focuses on that.  If imaginary creatures begin crawling along the edges of the arena fence, she focuses on those. I don't know if this is an issue that I should continue to worry about or if I should just let it go and accept that that's how she is.  I've gone through both mindsets over the past couple of years, and neither one seems to work all that well.

Or, maybe we're just in a phase...we seem to go in and out of various phases over the course of a year.  We'll have phases were every ride feels like we're really working and moving up.  Then, we'll have phases where every ride feels like a fight...spookiness, random bucking, flipping out about being alone in the arena.  I really hope this is just a phase.

In related news...I'm hoping to take her completely off grain soon.  I'm hoping to put her on alfalfa pellets and Empower so that the total NSCs are as low as possible and I can see how much of these antics are related to grain.  Fingers crossed....

Sundae for breakfast....and dinner...and breakfast again

The poor Obester.  Last week, I'm sure she thought she hit the jack pot when the new guy started feeding.  I'm not sure how many feedings she had gotten before I caught the mistake...but he was feeding her three times MORE grain than she's supposed to get.  She only gets a little more than a handful, mostly to get her to eat her supplements and to have a few extra calories.  She was getting nearly a quart from the new guy.  Needless to say, her belly was upset for the whole week...and she chose to express it in "creative" ways.  I'll let her explain...

So, I've heard that humans sometimes get these treats called sundaes.  They're rich and tasty and huge...and they taste amazing at first.  But, if you eat too much, you get a tummy ache.  Well, I think I understand about sundaes now.

See, the new guy fed by himself a few times last week.  When he first came to my stall to dump in my feed, I couldn't believe my eyes.  Seriously, he dumped in a mountain of grain.  I had to swallow REALLY hard to keep from gasping in amazement.  I didn't want him to know that I wasn't supposed to get that much!  Oh, man...it was so good!  I ate and ate and ate some more...it was like the grain just kept coming!  I could hardly taste the two powders Mom puts in my food (one is for my joints and one is called magnesium...I don't know what it does).  I just KNEW I'd never get a meal like this again, so I took my time and enjoyed every bite! 

I almost whinnied with delight when I saw the new guy feeding the next day.  I couldn't WAIT to get my mountain of grain.  I was dancing in place and shoving my nose out the feed access in the bars of my stall.  He dumped the grain, and it was like a sundae all over again...man, it was so good! 

Then, Mom came out to ride. 

I don't know...once we started working and I started moving around, that sundae didn't agree with my stomach so much.  I hate to admit this, but I was so gassy.  Seriously, I'm a lady, and I know that ladies don't typically make those sorts of noises, but I just couldn't help it!  Trotting and cantering just shook it out of me.  Then came the cramps.  Oh, boy, the cramps.  I finally had had enough, and I needed to make Mom stop.  So, as we were cantering along one long side of the arena (in this stupid move she calls "counter flexing"...it's hard), I bolted and bucked as hard as I could.  I ALMOST got her off my back, but she managed to stay on...I'm not sure how.  Anyway, after that, she was MAD.  She made me keep working, but I was hurting so bad I didn't want to relax my belly and my back, so I held them tight the whole time.  That was NOT a good ride. 

Maybe sundaes aren't a good idea.  But, man, are they good!  *sigh*  Mom eventually found out about the sundaes and she put a stop to it with a permanent marker.  She marked a BIG LINE all the way around my feed bucket to show how much grain I get.  It's a pitiful amount, really.  Oh well...it's better, I guess.  It took nearly a week for all the cramps and farts to go away. 

So, that's Obe's story.  Yes, she almost got me off with her massive bucking, and yes...I was angry.  But, once I found out about the over feeding, I felt sorry for the poor girl.  She's been back on her normal amounts for a week now, and last night she was much better for me.  I'm hoping to take her off grain completely soon...just feed the Empower (rice bran) and alfalfa pellets for extra calcium and calories.  If I do that, I will do all the measuring and have her meals pre-packaged for her.  I don't want to risk having this kind of thing happen again.  I've got too much to do this winter!  We have shows to go to next year and Bronze Medal scores to get!  ;)

Obe takes over...

Obe decided she wanted to have a voice in all this jibber-jabber (that's her word), so I've handed the keyboard over to her for this post...I feel like I should genuflect and say a prayer, because I'm not real sure what she's going to say. 

Hi all you people on the interwebz.  I just had to take over this post to tell you about the horrid things my mother has put me through the last couple of days.  I figure that the more people know the TRUTH, the more they will sympathize with me and bring me ginger snaps. 

First, she came up to the pasture to steal me away from my boyfriend, Rocky, while we were sleeping in the shade.  I'm not kidding.  She walked right into the gate and started crinkling the plastic wrappers on the peppermints she'd brought.  Dang it, she knows how to get me and Rocky to stand still!  Rocky was too interested in the peppermints to run away...if only he would have run!  I would've gone with him!  But, since he was interested, I had to be interested too.  Of course, before I could have my peppermint, I had to put my head in the halter.  *sigh*  So, she captured me and dragged me away from Rocky. 

Once in the barn, while she was grooming me, Adora and her human, Michele, came up the hill.  I like Adora...she makes me feel safe and comfy.  So, Michele and my mom WOULD NOT shut up the whole time they were grooming.  I like to snooze while I'm being groomed, especially when mom conditions and brushes my tail.  My ears get all floppy and I let my lip hang loose.  Not this time.  Nope.  Mom and Michele yacked the whole time.  I don't know how in the world they can find so many things to talk about...and laughter, dear me, the laughter!  I think they're losing it, if you know what I mean.

Mom got me tacked up in my jumping saddle, then took me outside.  But, rather than taking me down to the arena to lunge and work, she stood on this big green box outside the barn and got on me...without lunging me!  The nerve!  Then, she turned me AWAY from the arena.  Oh well, I got to follow Adora, at least.  So, we walked down the driveway and past Adora's house.  Then...you won't believe this...I almost can't believe it, and I LIVED it...once we got past the bridge and started up the big, long hill....she kicked me and made me trot!!!  Can you believe it?  Adora was trotting in front of me, and Mom wanted me to keep up with her!  That hill is long, and, while I appreciate the fact that Mom was in half-seat, it was HARD lugging her up that hill!  When we got to the top, I could hardly catch my breath.  My nostrils were flaring out so far even I could see them!  The nerve of some people...at least we got to WALK back down the hill!

Then, we weren't through!  We walked to the outdoor arena, and Mom made me warm up like usual...trot AND canter!  Ugh!  Oh, and it's not over...nope, not yet.  After we warmed up, we jumped, like forever.  She kept cantering me and cantering me to these jumps...I kept doing them perfectly so maybe she'd stop, but she just kept going.  Finally, she stopped me.  I was so icky sweaty...I mean, seriously, I have a winter coat coming in and it was almost 80 degrees.  What did she expect?  I got to watch Adora jump, too...but she was just as tired and confused as I was.  *another sigh*

Then...THEN....Bella came down with her human, Patti.  Michele and Mom said they'd LOOOVE to go on a trail ride with Patti.  REALLY?  A trail ride?  Did they bother to ask the horses?  Nope.  So, off we went.  We walked up that REALLY steep hill by the new pasture, over the hill in the woods, by that gate that I always try to use to scrape Mom off me, and back through the neighborhood and down the driveway (AGAIN) and back to the barn.  Sheesh...

When Mom FINALLY got off and took me to the barn, I fell asleep in the cross ties almost immediately after she got my bridle off.  I was exhausted!  Can you believe it?  Can you believe what horrible things I have to go through?  Shouldn't someone call someone and get someone out here to save me?  Someone?  Anyone?  At least Mom kissed me several times and told me I was such a pretty and good girl.  She seemed happy with the torture session.

At least I've had the past couple of days off to rest my sore muscles...crazy lady. 

The most respectful thing we can do...

I don't know Andrea, and I've never met Gogo, but I have kept up with their adventures and lives through Andrea's blog.  Andrea has made the decision to do the most respectful thing she can for Gogo.  In the animal world, we call it "sending her over the Bridge," meaning the Rainbow Bridge (which is an image from Norse mythology). 

Andrea, I don't know if you'll ever read this - a blog from a stranger you've never even heard from (apart from a couple of comments I put on your blog).  Please know that there are many others who have shed tears for Gogo.  She leaves this world with so much love and care - from you, from your friends, from those who have anonymously followed her travails online. 

On the other side of the bridge, she'll meet a handsome, tall, bright red gelding named Flash.  Even though he's been on the other side for four years, he still looms large in my dreams.  His arthritic, crooked right knee is straight again, and you should see how the wind whips his mane as he gallops like he did when he was younger.  Gogo's suspensory will be whole - the light in her eyes will return - and she will gallop with those beautiful bare feet with Flash and all the other loved horses that await her. 

I know it doesn't seem like it, but the pain gets a little easier to bear.  Sometimes I wonder...if it doesn't still hurt, am I still remember Flash like I should?  I know that I am.  Just because the tears stop doesn't mean I don't remember and love him. 

My prayers are with you and your beautiful mare...godspeed, Gogo.

What I Did on My Summer Vacation

I'm an English teacher.  More specifically, I teach writing - "composition" as those of us in the know call it.  Sometimes, I can't help but sympathize with the teacher on the classic movie A Christmas Story.  In Ralphie's dream scenario, she assigns A THEME (and states it so dramatically that it warrants the use of all caps in this case).  Ralphie sees her as she - in the midst of Ralphie's reverie - agonizes over the poor writing she has received.  She marks each theme with an F until she comes to Ralphie's.  She reads his in complete rapture, nearly singing every word.  After reading, she leaps from her desk chair and fills the chalk boards with "A +++++++++."  I understand how she feels. 

Anyway, I was thinking today of the timeless classic THEME of What I Did on My Summer Vacation.  How many of those have you written in your lifetime?  And, if you didn't write it, you were probably compelled to somehow share with your classmates on the first day of school what you had done the previous three months.  There was inevitably the classmate who did something so magnificent, so earth-shattering that your stories of going to the community pool paled horribly in comparison.  You so desperately wanted to be the cool kid who traveled or got to meet someone famous.  But, that never happened.  So, in that vein, I'm going to share what I did on my summer vacation.

I did lots and lots of weedeating.  Seriously.  And I don't mean the simple, trim-around-the-edges-of-your-freshly-mown-lawn kind of weedeating; I mean practically blazing new trails in a jungle kind of weedeating.  Here's the deal - to help pay for Obe's board (and to aggressively tackle the debt we have), I took on the weedeating at the farm for the summer.  On a horse farm that is nearly 30 acres - and is fenced and cross-fenced for pastures - and is situated on a steep hillside where a mower or bush hog can't go - that means A LOT of weedeating.  So much weedeating, in fact, that there's no way I could ever be "caught up."  Add to that the fact that we had ample rain this summer, and you've got me practically running around the farm with the weedeater trying to stay on top of it all. 

Allow me to use some visuals to help you see what I'm talking about.  First, the tools of the trade:

On the left is the trusty weedeater.  Beside it is the ear protection/mesh face mask that I wear - gasoline and Cyndi, the loppers (get it?).  The only missing tool is the small spool of weedeating string, but I had just used the last of it for this morning's jaunt. 

Now, prepare yourself for this next picture.  Seriously, small children should probably be removed from the room, because this picture is the stuff of nightmares.  I have successfully startled nearly every horse on the property in my get up.  I'm sure I look like a horseflesh-eating creature in their prey minds; some will bolt to the far side of their pastures while I work on one fenceline.  As I make my way around the pasture, they will strategically graze around the fence farthest from me.  Anyway...this is me, believe it or not:

Ear protection/mesh face mask, baseball cap, dust mask, bandana around neck, long-sleeved shirt, long pants and boots.  Every single time I did the weedeating this summer, this is what I wore.  This morning, with temps in the mid-60s, it wasn't so bad.  However, on a few of those 90-degree afternoons, it got a little brutal.  Okay, a lot brutal.  Note the flecks of eaten weeds stuck in the face protection.  At the end of a day weedeating, I would be completely covered in these flecks.  I'm not exaggerating at all to say that I had grass all over my body at one point or another while weedeating - all I can say to that is, "eeewww."  Seriously.

So, this morning, I decided to work a bit on Adora's pasture.  Adora, the special mare that she is, has her own little pasture that is basically a long, narrow run that opens up into a large square of a field.  Her pasture borders Obe's, and they've become quite good buddies.  They even travel well together, and Adora is kind of particular about who travels in "her" trailer.  The long, narrow run part of Adora's pasture was a little crazy with weeds...and I mean WEEDS.  Huge weeds...as thick as my arm and as tall as I am.  Here are a couple of before pictures.

 That's Adora on the right, looking typically aghast that I would come into her pasture at all, let alone in the get up that I showed you above.  The two greys on the other side of the short, electric fence are Spirit and Jasmine, two of the best school ponies in the world.  Anyway, that's one section of fenceline that I attacked today. 

This is Adora's little run - I like to call it her catwalk, because she's kind of a diva.  You can't even see the fenceline on the left.  It has been completely swallowed up by weeds.  It is definitely time to fight back the jungle. 

So, over the course of two and a half hours, I hacked away with Cyndi the Loppers and my trusty weedeater.  I would do one section of fence at a time (from fencepost to fencepost), digging through the weeds and lopping off the large weeds that would spell death to my weedeater string, then cranking up the weedeater and mowing down all the rest.  So...the after shots...

 This is where Adora was standing in the before shot.

And this is her catwalk.  Notice that you can actually see the fencelines!  Yay!  Clear fencelines are one of my favorite things.

There you have it - what I did on my summer vacation.  Yes, school has started and I'm still weedeating, but that's because the weeds are still growing!  They don't know that summer is over.  But, I must admit that it sure feels good to look down that fenceline and see it all clear and pretty - hard work is just that, hard, but it's also very rewarding. I'd give myself an "A++++++++++."