A Whole Bunch of Random

 Back in November, during firearm deer hunting season here in Michigan, I didn't get out into the tree stand much.  But when I did, the first time, I found that the squirrels had pretty much destroyed the seat cushion for the tree stand I use (that DH had put up in October).

That hunt was fairly uncomfortable, sitting on a cushion that was one narrow strip (the cushiony part) and several large spots with no filling between my gluteus maximus and the metal frame of the tree stand.

By the third time I went out to hunt, DH had dug up a new 'cushion' (a not very squishy foam board--very likely ancient and petrified) to temporarily replace the one the squirrels excavated for nest insulation material.  I used farmer ingenuity and secured it to the tree stand with baling twine.  Because, baling twine.  LOL.  If you know, you know.

In early December, DH was out of town the week of my birthday.  DD2 was also away, so I was home alone.  Rather than just kind of not have a birthday, like I've done in recent years when DH is away on my natal date, this year I decided to celebrate myself.

So I bought myself a (cheap) bouquet of flowers from the grocery store, ordered a yummy "salad" (lettuce, chicken, rice, roasted corn, black beans, guacamole)  from the local Mexican restaurant to be ready for pickup when I was done bringing horses in for their evening feed, and made myself a small cake (chocolate with peanut butter frosting).  I even put two candles in it, leftover from when K3 and Toad were very young and often were here on short notice for an indefinite amount of time (number 5 and number 3, my current age).  I of course lit them so I could make a wish and blow them out.  It's not a real birthday party without blowing out the candles.

Silly?  Maybe.  But it was better than pretending it wasn't actually my birthday just because no one else was around to celebrate with me. 

I forgot to set aside a bit of frosting to add food coloring to and use for decorating the cake, so instead of writing Happy Birthday on it, I used colored sprinkles to carefully spell out HAPPY.  The whole message being too big to write in sprinkles on an 8" x 8" cake.  Actually, I think maybe HAPPY will be my mantra for this year of my life.  There's been a whole lot of years of late that I was frustrated, overwhelmed, hurt (by and for others), and pretty much unhappy.  I'm rather tired of all that.  Happy is my desired goal from here on out.

We had a couple decent snows in December.  After one late in the month, I found myself walking in the woods (helping DH track a doe he'd shot during the late antlerless season) and took a picture of the trees in the snow.  I/We really need to get out there more and just walk around for the sake of wandering, not because we're working on finding a deer, or cutting/hauling firewood or tapping trees and collecting sap for syrup.  

Since the first of the year, I've started working on a new baby quilt.  Grandbaby #7 (who shall be dubbed with the name of Lucky here on the blog) is due on Valentine's Day.  This is the first child for DS2 and Surprise, and they are keeping the gender a secret until Lucky arrives.  Surprise suggested 'genderless' colors such as light blue, green, yellow, gray, for this quilt.  

As usual, I've taken that concept and am running with my own adaptation.  I'm not a pastel lover for baby quilts, especially as I make my grandkids quilts that will cover them until they are about 8 or 10 years old, not just as newborns.  I don't want a theme they will outgrow quickly.  And, since DS2 and Surprise originally met at Disney World 10 years ago, I just had to go with Mickey, Donald, Goofy and Pluto fabric too.

The weather has been rather cold lately, as it should be for January (but wasn't in Jan. 2024), and the Yarn Thief has been preferring to stay in the house rather than go outside to hunt birds and mice.  She's getting a bit of cabin fever, though, and while I was changing the sheets on my bed she crawled underneath the fitted sheet where she made a lump I couldn't smooth out.  This is a favorite game of hers that usually involves me getting one or more claws in my fingers as I'm trying to make the bed.

There have been other things happening around this little place here in recent months, and I'm hoping to turn a few of them into their own posts rather than including them here.  But I can't resist adding a couple pictures of  a Christmas present my kids got me.  I'm willing to bet I'm the only Mom who actually put these on her Wish List:

Caution cones!  Coming to a pseudo riding arena near me (okay, my temporary riding arena behind the barn) once the frigid weather breaks long enough for me to get back into the saddle.  I'm so excited to be able to set them up in multiple configurations to use as training aids.

Tell Me You're a Horse Girl. . .

 . . . without telling me "I'm a Horse Girl".  A review of 2024 in pictures.  In reverse chronological order of incident.

December. Whacked self in leg with 4" thick ice block trying to dump out (previously frozen and partially thawed) water trough alone.

Day 2

Also Day 2 (different view)

Day 9(ish)

September.  Broken fifth (?) metatarsal when Poetess spooked and landed hard on the edge of my foot on cement aisle of barn.  In her defense, something went whizzing by the open barn door at a high rate of speed.  I suspect it was DH on the 4-wheeler but never directly asked him. He was super worried afterward and super attentive, so that's kind of confession of guilt, right?

1 hour

3 days

(still very swollen)

5 days

2 months 15 days

(I think my foot is permanently colored like this now,

 hasn't faded more in the three weeks since this photo.)

April.  Little Black Mare stepped on me while dancing around in cross ties.

a few hours

Early April.  Poetess and I got our legs tangled up when I was wrapping a hind leg and the Yarn Thief decided to jump off the ladder to the hayloft and literally fly out the front door of the barn when she saw a horse in the aisle and freaked out (I assume as I didn't actually see it happening only noted where she was--with giant round eyes and a frizzed tail-- after I found myself crouched mostly under the Poetess's belly with her legs between mine).  Both Poetess and I were a little gimpy for a day or two afterwards.

Left, inner thigh/knee area

Right, shin/ankle

Did I seek medical attention for any of these?  PFFT.  No.  They're just bruises.  Well, except for the September broken foot.  I've had injuries like these before in the past (and did seek medical attention the first time around).  Experience tells me how to treat them.  And that toes/arch area of foot doesn't get casted.  So no need to spend time and money showing it to a doctor.

Which kinda says Hey, I'm a Horse Girl.

Make My Horse Life Easier Tip #1

 I don't know why I didn't think of this sooner, but about a year ago I happened upon a way of keeping my polo wraps tangle-free while washing them.  (Well, honestly, part of the reason it took so long is that until about a year ago I hadn't used polo wraps in a long, long time, typically using splint boots or brushing boots on the older horses I was riding.  It wasn't until I started working the Poetess, with her young four-year-old legs, that I went back to wrapping.)

Are you constantly frustrated with polo (or other long, skinny) wraps that get knotted like some demonic test of wit every time you wash them?  If so, read on for my (brilliant if I do say so) light-bulb moment of a tip for easier washing with less detangling.

Rather than tossing my polo wraps into the washing machine willy nilly (except for folding the velcroes over themselves so they didn't grab everything in the washer), I bought a couple of lingerie washing bags and put each set of polos into it's own bag.  Wonder of wonders, no more tangled wraps!

(Except for recently, when a bag came unzipped and ejected it's cargo into the washer, which prompted pictures and this post).

Now, instead of dealing with this Gordian knot on laundry day:

I simply unzip the bag, grab the end of a polo wrap and they tamely slide out one at a time in an organized manner like this:

Nice and orderly, not a big lumpy knot of snakes trying to touch the ground, the floor, and everything else that might dirty them while you try to extricate them from their grip on each other (and themselves).

This works a treat in the dryer too, not just in the case of line drying, as I was doing until the weather turned last week.  

Lingerie bags are cheap to buy.  And a set of four polo wraps fits nicely into one bag.  Definitely money well spent; it saves me both the time to untangle washer-knotted wraps and the frustration of having to unknot them before they can be rolled.

If you want to wait a little bit, and save some money, put a few lingerie bags on your holiday wish list and perhaps someone will buy them for you as a gift!  And if you've been jonesing after some new colors in polo wraps but can't justify the price when you all ready have plenty of wraps (that aren't new eye catching colors), put a set of wraps and a lingerie bag on your wish list!  

(I have seen some laundry bags for wraps listed on a few tack store websites, and I bought myself one, but, in home trials this summer, I think my cheapy lingerie bags bought at Wally World work just as well as my specifically-for-leg-wraps bag).

Well, That Was Unexpected

 I'm hoping to be back to posting fairly regularly (as in, roughly once a week like the last several years) sometime soon.  September was busy in mostly good ways and October has been an abrupt change in storyline. Honestly, this month so far is a blur. I'm tired and my body hurts. DD2 has moved back home after nearly two years of living with Brad, who was her boyfriend.  

Was.

It's been a long rollercoaster of a two weeks, first filled with DD2 in an emotional black hole wondering why she was such a horrible person that after three years (and some encouraging conversations in recent months about their long term future) Brad broke up with her after an argument (that in hindsight he'd goaded her into.).  Add insult to injury, the breakup came just a few days before her 27th birthday.

 After many tearful days and sleepless nights and feeling like she was a failure because he'd broken up with her, because she doesn't have a job (due to increasing health issues last winter through this summer), and because now she was 27 living back in her childhood bedroom, the truth slowly became clear.

It wasn't her that was a horrible person.  It was him.  And also the roommate and (she'd thought) friend that had moved in with them in May when they moved to a larger apartment at a different apartment complex.  The roommate that DD2 had accompanied to doctor appointments and to the hospital in July for a hysterectomy that ended up being more complicated than expected, had stayed with her in the hospital (since DD2 didn't have a job to go to), had nursed and tended during the six-week recovery from the roommate's surgery.   

Brad and the roommate had apparently been dating prior to him suggesting the move to a new apartment.  So, the entire time Brad, DD2 and roommate have been sharing an apartment, he has been cheating on DD2 with the roommate.  The roommate who made DD2 think she was her friend.  And then made DD2 feel so horrible that DD2's arguing with Brad had been so scary for her and DD2 was totally at fault in Brad's decision to break up.

Excuse me, what?  That was the story being fed to DD2 the entire first week after the breakup: that DD2 was a terrible person. Nothing was said about the true relationship between Brad and the roommate until DD2 sent them a group text to let them know that her eldest brother and her mom and probably a long time (since high school) friend or two would be coming on Saturday to help her move out all of her things from the apartment.

For whatever reason, that is when the truth came out.  Very viciously from the roommate, and even Brad wanting to know why she was inconveniencing them by bringing her family to their apartment on a day when they'd been hoping to relax.  The whole truth about how long Brad and the roommate had been an item.  

We moved her anyway.  Her best guy friend since freshman year of high school, DS1 (there for muscle in moving things and the intimidation factor of a Marine just in case of trouble), and I went in, and carried stuff out as fast as she could pack it.  We were on a mission to help her close the door on that bad situation as fast a possible and not let those two play her any longer putting her off and making it difficult for her to get her belongings (and off the lease).

This mom is really angry.  I cannot even begin to fathom what kind of twisted reasoning makes this behavior even remotely excusable.  A boyfriend who not only cheats, he convinces you that taking on this roommate that he 'knows from work' is beneficial to you.  A female roommate who makes you think she's your friend and then not only uses you for her own personal nursemaid she continues an affair with the guy she knows is your boyfriend, that you share a bedroom with.

The only good points I can see so far are that a) DD2 is no longer under his spell, b) she has realized how many of her friends and family he has alienated her from in the last couple of years and c) she sees an enormous support system in her friends and family (and even some of his friends who are shocked by this development and have reached out to her).

So, adjustments ahead.  DH and I aren't true empty nesters yet.   I guess this chapter of my life is about helping DD2 regain her physical health, get back into the work force and work toward financial independence in the foreseeable future.  

40 Years of Horses!

 A long, long time ago, I bought my first horse after years of being horse crazy, three consecutive summers of attending a week of Girl Scout camp where I did the Horse Camp option (the third year earning my way to camp by selling enough cookies to go at no charge to my parents, who'd told me they couldn't afford camp that year and I'd have to sell 300+ boxes of cookies to qualify for the week of camp to be 'free'-- I was an incredibly shy kid but I managed to knock on every door in a 5-mile radius of our house and take orders for cookies as long as my parents put up the time and gas money to drive me further than I could walk), and months and months of begging my parents to let me buy a horse.  They finally said "IF you can find a horse for the amount of money in your savings account, we'll think about letting you buy it."  

And so I did. After having a prepurchase exam done on him, he was delivered into my ownership on Labor Day weekend 1984.

The rest, as they say, is history.

My first horse, an 8 year old purebred registered Arabian

(with a tail that had been partially amputated after an injury a year or so prior to when I bought him).

I was twelve, almost thirteen when I got my horse. I think my parents figured horses were just a typical phase little girls go through, and that in a year or so I would grow out of it and we'd sell the horse and all the horse gear and be done.  They even put up stipulations I had to meet in order to keep the horse:

• Maintain at least a B average in school (I'd been an Honor Roll student all through school up to that point)
• Take riding lessons so I'd learn to ride safely
• Join 4-H and do the horse program

The first requirement was not an issue for me; I got good grades because I liked learning and school was something that (with the exception of multiplying and dividing fractions) had always come easy to me. Five school years later I graduated in the top 10% of over 330 students in my graduating class.

The second and third requirements, instead of pushing me away from horses (like maybe my parents secretly hoped), just sucked me in further.  So much to learn!  I couldn't get enough!  I went from learning to ride well on my first horse, to selling him and breaking out not just the next horse I bought (paid for with the earnings from the first horse, which I sold for more than I'd paid for him, but also by months and months of cleaning stalls for the lady I bought him from--my trainer) but also the young horse my mom bought in 1987 intending it to be her own horse.

In addition to joining 4-H and being extremely active there, I was one of the founding members of my high school equestrian team, which finally got approved and became a real thing my junior year.

My second horse, a 7/8 Arabian, 1/8 Quarter Horse I bought as a coming three year old

and then trained under saddle both western and hunt seat.

My Mom's horse, which ended up being too quick for her;

which I then started to teach to run barrels  but never quite finished 

(In the above pictures I'm 3 months pregnant with my first son; the reason why we soon scrapped the barrel racing training and the mare sat for over a year unridden.)

Then there was a haitus in ownership for several years, most of which I continued working at horse farms but not owning a horse of my own and not riding much.  I had met and married DH and then popped out babies #2 and #3 in rapid succession.  A week before baby #4 arrived, we became the owners of a pony I'd known from back in my 4-H days.  He was in his late 20s by then and ready to be retired from the showring.  So he became a backyard pony my kids loved on and learned to ride on.

The Pony

When my youngest child was 3, the barn owner I was then working for, was looking to downsize her (very large) herd of Holsteiners.  She offered me the choice of one of three she would sell for the same price.  All mares, all in the 10-12 year old range, all very green broke eons ago and not ridden since they were 3 or 4 years old.  I chose the one whose build and personality I liked best. I didn't have the full asking price at the time, but I put $1000 down and worked off the remainder of the balance over several years.  And that is how I became the owner of a papered warmblood horse.  I trained her mostly on my own, with some intermittent riding lessons (as I could afford them/work them off) for help.

The Mare and I, about 8 years after I'd bought her.

Shortly after putting down The Pony due to Cushings and advanced age (32), I caught up again with my second horse, the 7/8 Arab.  He'd been at a therapeutic riding center for over a decade and was in his early 20's.  They were going through some financial difficulties that necessitated dispersing some of their herd.  Being that he was now on the older end of their roster, I inquired if they might be willing to sell him to me.  So, he came back into my ownership, for my daughters to ride, and has been known here as The Old Man until his death in 2018.

The Old Man

In 2007, I went into a 3-way ownership on an 8 year old registered Quarter Horse.  He was supposed to be for my daughters to ride, the daughter of a fellow boarder to ride, and the farm owner to occasionally trail ride as her health allowed.  I ended up buying out the other two owners over the years, and he shows up in several stories posted at this little place here until I sold him in 2017.

The Quarter Horse

My two year partnership with the California Horse followed, from summer 2017 until 2019.  He is mentioned in many horse updates.

The California Horse,

all 18 hands of him!

Almost immediately after the California Horse left Michigan for Oregon (where his owner's parents had bought a farm), I purchased Camaro, the second purebred Arabian I have owned and trained.  The photo below is from our one and only show, in June 2021.

In June of 2023, The Poetess became my next horse.  Maybe my final horse, we'll see.  Looking to train her as far as I can (based on how my body holds out and how she ages).  DH would like to retire in about five years and hopes that he and I will be doing a whole lot more traveling after that.  I'm not so sure I'll be 'done' with horses that quick. Maybe ten years from now.  In 10 years I'll be almost 63.  Not a whole lot of women that age still riding and doing barn chores on a regular basis.  Fifty years of constant horses/horse chores might be enough.  Time will tell.

'

Knitting Update, October 24

 

I worked on Sixlet's Christmas stocking until I was about halfway to the heel portion, then I put it on hold. I needed something much more portable (that didn't require seven skeins of yarn for all the colorwork) to take on vacation with me in September.

Since Faline had recently found that her beloved purple sweater I knit for her when she turned two (finished product can be seen in this post) has gotten rather short in the arms and body now that she's about to turn four, I decided to raid my stash of yarn and see what yardages I might have that would be enough to knit a sweater for a much taller girl and use that as my take-on-vacation knitting project.

What I found was some lovely light blue/turquoise yarn that I'd purchased about five years ago intending to make a sweater for K3 but never ending up having the chance to actually use.  Now that K3 is way way too big for that to be enough yarn for a sweater for her, I decided to use it for a new sweater for Faline. And only I --and now you-- know that K3 was supposed to get a sweater and hasn't.  So it's all good.

I am using the Sunday Sweater pattern again (same pattern as the purple one), only making it in the size 4/5 using the longer body and arm lengths included in the pattern.  I have roughly 3" of body left to knit, at which point I will probably set it aside for a week or so and go back to working on Sixlet's stocking.

As far as reading goes, I finished two books in September:

• My Gun Has Bullets by Lee Goldberg is, I think, his first novel.  It's quite satirical and comedic.  I'd say it's sort of a murder mystery, but not nearly the same as his Eve Ronin series.  I could definitely see the progression in his writing from his early works to his novels of the 2020s.
• The Man From St. Petersburg by Ken Follett.  It's been over four years since I read anything from this author and now I can't imagine why it took me so long to pick up another book of his.  I love, love, love his writing.  History, intrigue, well developed characters. . . need I say more?

Currently, I have just started reading Cold Comfort Farm by Stella Gibbons.  I've heard this book mentioned a few times around internet-land in the past six to eight years, so I decided finally to give it a try. I'll say that the foreword is rather long and didn't keep my attention very well; if I had skipped that part I'd probably be further than Chapter One by now (five days after getting the book from the library).

Sewing and Stitching, September Update

The Airplane Quilt top is now a flimsy! Meaning all the piecing is done and borders are on.

I have all the components needed to finish this quilt: backing, batting and red-white-blue variegated thread for doing the quilting.  The next several weeks are going to be quite busy, so I doubt I will actually get any part of it quilted before the October sewing and stitching update. Sandwiched and pin basted, maybe, but most likely not quilted.

A few weeks ago I grabbed the pile of worn out jeans that has been accumulating for a couple of years and cut the seams and waistbands out of them.  I would like to make DS2 and Surprise a jean quilt for their Christmas gift this year, and might finally have enough scrap denim to make one.  No way to know until I start cutting the pantlegs into the 6" squares I'll need and see how many squares I get. That's the next quilty thing on my docket.  

Other than cutting the squares from all that scrap denim, jean quilts are super fast to make.  Being heavy with all that denim, I don't put batting in them, so once the squares are cut and sewn into rows all I have to do is sew on the flannel backing, tie every other square, and the quilt is finished.  If I have enough denim, it should be no problem to whip this one from start to finish in a month's sewing time.

But before I cut denim squares, I need to make some repairs on horse turnout sheets before the weather gets to be the cold & rainy type.  So far we've had rain on warm days and our chilly Fall-like days have been dry ones, but I know before very long I'll be wanting waterproof sheets to put on horses so they don't get chilled in the cold rainy weather Michigan can have when there's a hurricane working up the eastern seaboard in late September and October.

There has been no cross-stitching done since I finished the beading of the Celtic Santa, although I am contemplating doing some small designs on perforated paper that I could make into Christmas ornaments to give to each of the grandchildren in December.  I need to put a bit more thought into that and also look at what other projects (both crafting and outdoors/homesteading) are slated for the next several months to determine if that's a feasible thing for this season or not.  I don't want to take the time to stitch those and get some done unless I am able to get all six done, if you know what I mean.  It's an all-or-nothing task.  Not that Sixlet will know if he misses out this year, but Buck will.  And Faline most definitely will.  That girl is about the most detail oriented three year old I've ever known (except maybe myself but I don't remember things from when I was three.  Four years old, yes.  Three years old, no.)