It's been a heck of a winter. And it's not over yet.

The calendar can tell me it's spring now, and the commercials on TV flaunt colourful skimpy clothes, and the horses are shedding clouds of loosened winter hair, but I'm not buying it.  The wind is still whipping across the corral like it's trying to kill me and it still feels like winter.

But you know what?  I AM SURVIVING IT.  Every November I'm pretty sure I'll freeze to death before March.  I know I've blogged about it but I'm too lazy to look it up and link it.  If you've been around here any length of time, you know how this goes...  I'm Canadian; it is my patriotic duty to alternately complain bitterly about winter and brag about how tough we are to simply live through it year after year.

This is what my lessons looked like during March Break this year:

Oddly enough I don't have any pictures of lessons during March Break last year, because I only had one student.  And THIS is what it was like outside then:

NO SNOW.  It was actually warm. The grass was turning green.  I have videos of the kids and I off checking out a really interesting spot on a dirt road a few miles away from home, now that the Girl is always on the search for photo shoot locations.  All three of us were wearing shorts and T shirts.  In March.  In Canada.  It happens maybe once every ten years or so.  We've had a few mild winters, but this year reminded us what the deal is.  

Here, my daughter and I hopped on bareback and bit less.  That's my favourite way to go in winter - body warmth and no cold metal in the horse's mouth.  But as you can see, we didn't venture away from the barnyard! And yes, I am riding in my thermal coveralls.  Until somebody invents winter riding gear that doesn't look like I'm off to a hunter-jumper show, I'll be wearing coveralls from November to April. 

See - proof that I did get on and ride in the snow! I don't know what's going on with my hand on the reins there.  That don't look proper.  Maybe my fingers were too frozen to hold them with any kind of effectiveness.  Ah heck who cares.  It was minus-freezing-degrees celsius and I was on a horse - yay me regardless, I figure.

This is the path I dug from the house to the lane.

This is the trench I dug from the lane to the barn.

This is the trench I dug around the snowdrifts so the horses could get to the hay feeder.

And finally, the trench I dug to the manure pile.  Sigh.

But y'know, these guys seemed okay.  I am not one for pampering my horses.  I believe in taking care of them and keeping them from becoming stressed.  But they will choose to stand out there in the wet snow.  Everything runs down their hides and ends in little icicles dripping off their bellies, and they look pretty okay with the whole set up. They've got hay, they've got shelter, they've got a water source that doesn't freeze thanks to modern technology. 

It's just us humans who have the problem!

These pictures were taken by my friend Leslie, my former neighbour, who came with her younger son (aka Cute Stuff) to visit the farm during March Break. She's pretty tough too.  Every morning she takes a 120 lb dog for a loooong walk so she gets the concept of good outerwear.  She took these pictures through the dining room window.  

Dig me in my fashionable thermal coveralls.  That's western, people.  Quit screwing around and get to work.  

So yeah, my rider and I are pretty tough and all.... but our actual ride was about twenty minutes.  

It'll get better.  I mean, it'll get worse first, now that everything that was frozen is melting, and my mares have decided to hate each other because there's a gelding involved, and I'll need more hay before the pasture comes back.  My riders are coming back to me despite the cold and lingering snowbanks.  We're going to be okay.  Repeat after me: WE'RE GOING TO BE OKAY.

Can't put 'em up on blocks for the winter...

Business has been slow.  Theoretically I am continuing riding lessons but in reality, winter makes it difficult.

The expenses don't stop though!  The horses still have to eat, even if nobody's paying me to sit on them. It's not like they can be packed away in a garage like a delicate antique car, waiting for spring.

Not that it matters.  For years I fed horses who didn't earn their keep.  They aren't here for the sole purpose of making a living, because I am not making a living with them! Not yet!  We have them because we love them, and they bring us happiness that we can't find in anything else.  Not TV and movies, or sports, or vacations.  Having these horses is a wonderful privilege, one that comes with a cost.  

I didn't get into the riding lessons business thinking I'd get rich off it, and I knew winter would slow things down to a crawl.  So for now, the horses are just eating and pooping and existing.


And I still love them.  Even if I feel like all I ever do is clean up after them.  Even if I've only ridden a couple times since the new year.

They are so worth it!

Celebrities behaving badly, 400 lbs of horse manure, and snow.

Let's see what we can learn from this:

Kids, don't let the manure build up as a result of cleaning out the stalls and not taking it out of the barn for a couple days or so.  I had a good reason for not taking it out.  It was extremely windy last week and I really didn't want to take a chance that the contents of the wheelbarrow would end up in my face.  You understand, eh?  By the beginning of this week, the wheelbarrow was full, as well as the blue plastic tub with rope handles (which I dragged across the snow when the wheelbarrow couldn't get through) and the barrel I usually keep shredded paper in was full.  Then I started forking the stuff up against the wall behind the stalls.  I was disgusted with myself!  I let it get that bad!  It started to look like a credit card debt, you know, like it just keeps getting bigger and then you can't face it and it gets bigger and bigger!

Well I went at it this week.  It took a few hours, but I went slow.

Now.  Let's talk about FAMOUS BAD BEHAVIOUR.

-don't get punk in drublic.

-shut your mouth.

-girls, skirts must cover your butt, and please learn how to get out of a car.

-Don't call radio station talk shows when you're hammered!

-actually don't call radio talk shows at all.

-never insult your boss in a public, easily accessible medium.

-don't steal stuff

-hookers are not babysitters

-seriously, shut your mouth.  Just stop talking.


And as for snow?  As much as I complain that I'm tired of the cold, and everything is more difficult in the snow, I wish I could show you what the yard looks like tonight.  Big flakes have been drifting out of the black sky for a few hours, just ambling their way down.  No hurry.  Everything is sparkling.

It's sparkling outside.

So how can I complain?

Sure I get irritated when I watch the news, and people who think they are too special to follow the rules are hogging all the attention (I mean, geez, the really important news is about HAIRCUTS right?).

And I don't ever want to bitch about cleaning out the barn, because guess what - horse manure only shows up where there are horses!  And I love my horses.

And I would like to not worry about snow every time I get into my truck, worry about my husband driving home, and all that.  Stumbling through the snow drifts to walk the Pug is... not working well.  Winter wears thin right about this time of year.

BUT TONIGHT THE SNOW IS SPARKLING.

(Also.  OSCAR tomorrow night!!!!!!!!)

The sun shines, the snow melts. Happens every year.

It took me a few years to figure it out, but it seems that every spring, I have a hard time coping with life.  The past few months have been particularly stressing, but despite that, I'm actually doing pretty okay.

Here's the way I see it: Every spring people get a hint of what's to come and they start getting silly, running around in shorts and T shirts when it really isn't that warm yet, getting out their motorcycles and carefully stored summer cars, and packing away the snowblower.  We all darn well know it's gonna snow again.  It always does.

But for a short time, we sort of don't care.

That little taste of summer feels so good.  

(I really must find a better tether for this poor guy.  Spending the winter under a snowbank was not good for this rope.  Last year's chain didn't do much better.)

This is the fourth day of sunshine.  The corral is drying up and I finally feel like going out there and doing something with my two hayburners.  Out in the pasture, a steady trickle of water runs down the low spot.  All the snow banks are gone now.  There are only a few wet spots in the corral.  The horses have been rolling off chunks of winter fur, and providing us with regular horse shows.  

The downside is that there's no way around it: SPRING STINKS.

In town, all the winter's worth of dog droppings surfaces in backyards, while out here, a giant pile of next year's compost is just cooking away in the sun and stinkin' up the place.  

I walk the Pug around the back and stare down at the mud, and the slimy remains of melted snow.  The horses are filthy.  There's gravel in places it shouldn't be because of snowplows.  

I don't think this is why I get seasonally depressed.  I don't know why.  I kind of don't care.  I'll just keep taking my big pink capsules and running around with my dog and staring at the huge lamp every morning.  

It's gonna be okay.  It is every year.  All I have to do is give it time.  And you know what? Looking out the window and seeing this somehow makes it all feel so much better.

I have an appointment with Dr Puggy and Dr Phoenix this afternoon.  Lucky me.

$#%$ Internet!

It gets sketchy out here in the country.  We've got the iGadget rigged to the Mac White but it pooped out all day, which is why you didn't get a magnificent blog post today.  Tell you what: I'll work on a big patriotic thing full of big red maple leaves and medals and total rock star athletes- lots of 'em, not just the Canucky ones - and in the meantime here's a dose of Depp for you.

Here have another.

I'm feeling generous now that I have internet again.

I've been watching more TV than usual lately.

I've been watching crazy people throw themselves through the air and landing in the snow.

Have a good weekend, go play in the snow, don't try the stuff you see on TV and I'll seeya.

Friday. Just... Friday.

Giving ol' Johnny a day off.  He's earned it.  I'll find another model for this scattering of thoughts...




I've got a stinky little dog under my right elbow.  He keeps farting.  I still love him.  How weird is that?

I got the stalls cleaned out before 9 am today.  I didn't do a whole lot of sweeping, or clean water buckets, but that gives me a reason to go out to the barn again this afternoon.  I like being in the barn.

I think my little housecat is always going to be slightly more than half wild.

I have a lot of research to do this afternoon.

I need to know where to put all my advertising for my riding lessons this spring. I haven't ridden my horses since November because of the ice, but when the ground warms up it'll be time to get back in the saddle.

And I'm thinking of putting some of my words into a little tiny book, like a real book that people could open in their hands and read.  It won't be one of my novels because I'm still planning on getting them done the hard way.  I just need a sense of accomplishment in the writing part of my world.

I feel heartbroken about the earthquake in Haiti.  In the Mennonite church there's a lot of emphasis on mission work, and Haiti is a place needing help. They needed help before the earthquake.  I can't comprehend the devastation.  My cousin and his wife returned last summer; their little boy was born in Haiti.  As much as I selfishly am so glad they're back, safe in Ontario, my heart aches for those nearby who have lost a loved one in the disaster.

I have no money.  I can't contribute with money.  But I can find other ways to help.   Mennonite Central Committee  has always been good for getting relief efforts to places that need it.  I can pray.  I pray a lot and always wonder if it's doing any good but on the chance that it does, I will do it.  Any bit of positivity in this world has got to do some good.

People ask me how I'm doing and I reply that I'm keeping busy.  It's true.  Living with my parents does not mean a free ride for me -- I do all I can to make my presence here a help rather than a hindrance.   I want to take a burden off my folks, not load them up with more.

I hardly read blogs anymore, which I miss.  When I do read, I don't comment like I used to.

I'm waiting for a really good book to arrive in my hands.

I miss my town neighbours.

I love living in the country.

I have so much stress in my life but I have so much to be thankful for -- I cannot let myself forget that!

Jethro says most of his problems can be solved with money.  You know, he's right.  If he could get that together, what would he have to worry about?  My first reaction is to be sickened with worry about the money thing, but if I look at it like it's the ONLY problem, it gets put into perspective.  

I have a lot of work to do today, and it ain't gonna do itself.  That's okay.  I never get bored.  Ever.

Winter Barn: the guided tour

I took my iGadget out to the barn with me last week.  Whaddaya know, the thing takes pictures...

I like this picture because it tells so much about how I'm running our place this winter.  If you look to the right of the horses, you can see the beginnings of a path to that plank-gate in the background.  I push the wheelbarrow over to the fence, lower the planks, and shove the barrow to the new manure pile, which is just out of the picture to the right.  Also, I think my horses are cute.

  

For years we piled the manure in the corral, about 10 ft away from the barn door.  It was convenient, especially when the snow is deep, but it made for a giant sucking wet mess of mud in that half of the corral.  This is close to where I tie my horses to tack up for a ride.  They'd sink up to the fetlocks. Nasty. This year I decided to pile it on the other side of the fence, on the old liquid manure tank.  It'll be easy to scoop it up and move it in the spring.  However, it's three times the journey to get the crap out of the barn now.  Oh well.  I'm young and strong, right?  Right?

Let's go into the barn.  Because it's all old cattle stable, then used as pig stabling, our barn isn't the most perfect horse set-up.  We use what we have.  There are two aisles; one at the back to let the horses into their stalls, one for us to go in.  This is the People Aisle!

Here are a few tools hanging on the wall, the cat's bowls, and the hay.  And the hole in the wall.  Don't ask.  At the very far end, there's a chute in the ceiling where I throw the hay down.  I have to first go up to the hay mow, waaaay up, throw the hay down the the main floor, then down this chute.  I put down 4 or 5 bales at once so I don't have to go up there too often.

Here's Phoenix's stall.  I took this picture from the back aisle.  Across from his stall you can see the tack room door, with photocopies of my certificates taped to it.  Classy eh?

I often consider getting rid of the back aisle to make the stalls bigger, moving the wall to make that aisle twice as wide, and just having one barn door.

The problem is that three of the four stalls have this rock-solid cement trough at the front, with metal bars on top. It would be a long expensive day with a rented jackhammer.  And I don't know how long I'll be here, so is it worth spending the money???  These will suit my dad's needs just fine, so he has no reason to change them.  I do my best to make it work.

Keeping an old barn clean is not easy.  There might be spiders older than me out there.  I make them homeless.  I don't feel bad about it.  I love this barn even though it's not sparkly and fancy.  I'm trying to enhance the rustic feel but worry that it just looks dusty.  In summer I'm outside, riding, but in winter I pick a new spot to clean up each day.

Again from the back aisle, this stall holds the feed and bedding, stall cleaning tools, and cat den!  

Across the other aisle I hung up the things I use often and want to have at hand easily.

It's a bucket scrubber, never-know-when-you-need-it dustpan, scissors for cutting baler twine if I'm not strong enough to yank the strings off the bales, indispensable broom, extra lead rope and chain and a pair of little chaps I found.

Oh look, they guys are all curled up in their cat den.  When it gets really cold, I'll drape a sheet over it to keep their body heat in.

Aren't Larry and Moe adorable?  They're good little barn cats.  Good hunters and wonderful cuddlers!

Here's another tool I can't work without: the wheelbarrow!

If we open that tack room door, we're in the open part of the barn.  I got these pegboards from the Little Valley.  (I miss that place, and the horses, and I really miss the people!!) 

Here's my big double saddle rack and plastic drawers full of leg wraps.

These temporary walls give a nice visual boundary without cutting off all the light from the east windows.  I can still get over to the other wall to get water.  (And yes, we got the pipe thawed!!)

Turn to the left; this is my big shelf with my grooming tools, first aid, and trunks full of bits and saddle blankets and other necessaries.

Beside that, another saddle rack and my cool new hooded plaid flannel jacket!  Right now I'm using an old sheet for a saddle cover.  I plan to sew up some nicer covers over the winter.

I've got five saddles but only two are used regularly.  In this pic you can see my daughter's english saddle under the yellow sheet.  The pony saddle is under the blue striped blanket.  Those trunks are full of helmets and gloves and boots.

Finally my Wall O Bridles.  I think I'm up to something ridiculous like three for each horse.  I've got a sidepull, a mechanical hackamore, two eggbutt snaffles, training jointed curbs, and I do use them all.  I switch them up to keep the horses on their toes, haha.  Each one has a different purpose.  

My old man said one day, "You've got a lot of gear.  You should hold an auction sale and make some money."

Yeah, no.  It's taken me decades of scrounging and bargain hunting to work up this collection.  Now that I've got a good assortment of tack, I'm looking out for lesson props.  Every barrel, pylon and pole is potentially useful, and luckily this place is good pickings for free equipment!

I don't ride as much in winter.  Our corral freezes into ice and I don't ride on ice.  Soon, when we've got a foot of snow packed over it, I'll saddle up again.  Winter is the time I like to catch up on barn tidying and fixing up.  Dad's got plans for this barn including a south facing open shed; I'll show pics when it's done.  

My evening chores would really only need to take about 15 minutes, but I usually have to lean on a stall front to listen to the hay chewing.  That's how I measure my horse craziness.  No matter how old I am or how many pieces of paper on my tack room door, I love horses so much, even watching them eat is pure joy.

Embarrassing self-portrait, Part 2. Not.

Yeah, um, no. Sorry, I can't show off that picture I drew of myself in 1987.  I just can't.  I gave it a good look and decided although it is not a bad job, it really doesn't look exactly like me.  The eyes are too close together, or the smile is too symmetrical.

What really clinched it is the way my daughter walked into the room, saw it propped up against the wall, made a face and, "What is goin' on with that picture???"

But the good news is, it's not as bad as I expected.  I didn't get a fright when I unwrapped it after its 17 year exile.

On top of that, I cut down three recycling boxes worth of cardboard that'd been hanging around the old summer kitchen for who-knows-how-long.  I feel pretty good about that!  Not only am I getting room to store a few things from my house, but my mom can reclaim the old kitchen as her plant potting workshop.

Don't worry about your lack of entertainment though, because I am sure I'll find more things to embarrass myself with.  Just give it time.  I do dumb things on a regular basis.

Here's an example, a picture taken with the handy-dandy iGadget last week.  This is the view from the bus stop at 7:30 am in December:

Look past the pretty view and the nasty wet snow, and notice the squiggly tire tracks.  That's how I backed Grandma's car into the bus stop driveway.  (Also Tribble got mad cuz the headlights were on and ruined the picture.)  So yeah, I've been driving for... let me count... twenty-two years?  And I still can't back a car straight.  I am going to say it's because this car is one of those newfangled front wheel drive jobbies.  Dang it.

So now I think I've mildly embarrassed myself and my girl-child.

Now I must get back to my regularly scheduled workload.  I might even start Christmas shopping sometime in the next 4 days.  Maybe.  If I can come up with my twenty bucks for the year.

LET'S GO FOR A RUUUUUUN!!!

It doesn't matter that it's full on winter; that the weatherman says it's -9C today but it feels much colder with the wind; that out here, it IS colder with the wind.

That little house-dog still needs to go outside.  And there'll be none of this opening of the screen door and chasing him out to play on his own.  He's a pet.  He wants to be with his people.  Specifically, ME.

He's got trees to pee on and snow to dig into with his flat face.  In his world, these things can only be done with ME as his supervisor.  He loves the snow, but if left on his own, he'll go take a wiz under the lilac bush then crouch at the door shivering and looking pathetic until I let him in.

So I have no choice.  I bundle up and follow him out into the wastelands...

Everything looked so pretty in the summer.  I spent much of September pulling forgotten junk out of the long grass, trying to make some room.  Not that I specifically needed the room.  I just needed to work.  I wanted to do the work so my ol' Man wouldn't have to.

Now the hunker-downs are parked for the winter, soon to be covered.  The intrepid Pug plows his way through the soft stuff.

It's not deep.  We had no snow in November, and what we do have gets blown away by the harsh wind. Maybe the wind is feeling like I am these days.  Restless.  Slightly helpless.  Needing to do something but not quite sure where to throw that energy.

The wind has more energy than I do.

So does the crazy little dog, once he's done snoozing and snoring on Grandma's couch.

Sometimes he still looks out over the wide expanse of field and looks like he's about to run for it.  What really knocks me out is the little guard dog routine.  He sees a car going down the town line - how he sees anything with his whacky eyes is beyond my imagining - and growls like he's just spotted an enemy and must now go chase it away!  Of course the car keeps going, so clearly, the Guard Pug has done his job.

Then he has to go inspect that gnarly old camper that didn't quite make it to the scrap yard this year.

Then it's time to run up the hill to the garage.  This will be way too much fun in a month or so when the snow is up to my knees.  Pug tunnel!

After that he's got some serious snoring to do.  He's a very busy dog.