Voluptuous, Indulgent, Rubenesque.
Grace with Curves.
Anna Blake, Infinity Farm.
WordPress Photo Challenge is a weekly prompt to share a photo- I enjoy twisting these macro prompts to share our micro life here on the Colorado prairie. My photos are taken with my phone. No psych, definitely not high-tech.
It’s been in the 90′s all week and our frail new grass was drying up quickly. I walked out the back door towards the barn and saw it: a giant plume of smoke very close. If you were in Colorado last summer, your gut remembers. If you have horses, it’s time to hook up the trailer. I watched the smoke plume turn colors and get closer. There’s an evacuation plan for our animals but I hate it. Any choices that involve leaving home are hard.
Kari called first, she has a large herd. Could the geldings come here? There is only one answer. An hour later, I almost didn’t recognize Margaret’s voice. Same answer. Dogs, too? Yes, and do you want to camp in the unfinished garage?
I was moving my horses and scrubbing muck buckets into water containers when the first horse trailers arrived. Kari’s six geldings put in the south pasture, and the trailers were gone, not a moment to waste with more horses to move.
Margaret and Bob brought their horses next, left the rig, and then went back for everyone else. Hours passed, I paced outside waiting for them, checking on horses and the visible line of fire on the northern horizon, creeping closer by the hour. The smoke was thick, even in the dark. At 11:30, Margaret, Bob and their son, Michael returned, along with three dogs, four cats and a couple of large bird cages.
Just as they pulled in, one last phone call; same tone, same questions, same answer. Stephanie, Tracy and their son, Kolbe arrived an hour later. Four sweat soaked horses came out of the their trailer. Dee at 33, was wobbly; she and the two older geldings went in the round pen. The younger mare went into a run. Their load included 4 dogs, 2 neighbor dogs, cats, an entire aviary of fancy chickens and ducks, one rabbit, and a travel trailer. They saw flames through the trees when they left their home.
Once everyone was settled, I checked the news one last time and the fire was 8 miles away. I wondered if we would all be evacuated from Infinity Farm in the morning. I woke up the Dude Rancher to let him know we had more company. The same answer from him, yes. It was 2:30 am when I laid down in my clothes, looking out a window towards the fire.
Most of us were up before 5, taking care of the animals and watching the fire line. Every few minutes a new plume of smoke, black and quick, meant another home gone. I made coffee, and invited our guests in the house.
Local news and Facebook exploded with offers for help, updates from friends, resources available. So much devastation, and at the same time, a firestorm of abundance and good will. I can’t imagine the dread our guests felt, but we ate muffins and smiled and were happy to say thank you.
Then chores; time to muck, fill water buckets, scratch noses. While we finished caring for our extended menagerie, some of us left to get supplies. I had to fight to muck my own pens, but I needed some therapy time too.
The first load of hay arrived mid-day. Kari posted a need on FB, and hay fairies Kris and John arrived, hauling over an hour to deliver it. Each errand trip our guests took brought more hay back as well. Later, Dan delivered more hay yet. It was like loaves and fishes, I have no idea how much we’ll need, or how long my guests will stay, but the horses are safe.
By afternoon, the wind kicked up hard, trees bent over, the sky filled with smoke. And it blew the fire away from us. There was no happy dance, we all have friends to the north.
Infinity Farm is a small place, with animals in every pen. There is an outhouse. Sigh. Our campground has no frills for sure, and friends in town offered rooms in larger homes than mine but everyone was right where they want to be- with their animals.
At dinner, Margaret and Stephanie remembered a recipe between them and made baked rice and chicken. There were 8 of us, so I put the table leaf in. I usually only do that on Thanksgiving, but that works too, for this group of good, animal-loving people and our many blessings.
As the sun set, the flames were a bit farther away. Both families had found out their homes were spared, so far at least. There was much relief, but no one celebrated, the evacuation maps were humbling. We were just 24 hours in, and it’s not near over yet. Just safe enough to sleep a few hours.
Wednesday dawned quietly, but we all knew the wind would come again later. Coffee, breakfast, news, and now what?? We survived the first day, but evacuation areas grew. So much destruction, but even as the wind blew the path of the fire north, there were still black fumes close and no one would be moving home soon.
So we let the old mare out to graze, Dee looks better by the hour. The chickens escape routinely, the dogs take turns in the yard. A very satisfied gray and white cat stares out the window of the garage. Eventually people took showers and I worked a horse.
Thank you for your concern and good wishes. We are the lucky ones, we have an embarrassment of riches. The Dude Rancher and I can take no credit, we just opened the gate to let this abundance in. Everything we gave is returned two-fold. Don’t worry for us.
First responders redefine courage by the minute, I am in grateful awe. Please bless all who are lost, soon to be found. And we do well to remember that our best assets will always be each other. Life goes on, be safe.
Anna Blake, Infinity Farm.
Fleeting.
Fleet of feet. Usually, I would post a photo of my Iberian Sport Horses galloping together, athletic and bold, but Edgar Rice Burro demands an equal opportunity. He says it isn’t about length of neck and push from behind. He says grading on the curve is the fair way.
Edgar Rice Burro, in a fleeting moment of canter.
Feel the white. hot. speed.
Anna Blake, Infinity Farm.
WordPress Photo Challenge is a weekly prompt to share a photo- I enjoy twisting these macro prompts to share our micro life here on the Colorado prairie. My photos are taken with my phone. No psych, definitely not high-tech.
Have you ever been rescued by a horse? How old were you? Does it still happen?
I’ve been thinking about Julie. Cool name, isn’t it? I make no apologies, I was 6 years old and thought it was the best name ever. I thought Angela was a good name too.
Julie was a pinto pony. She was mean as a snake and I was pretty fearful, especially after the day she kicked me in the face. My father would put me on her bareback and then shoosh her down the dairy barn aisle. Julie was afraid of him, (we all were), and she would scurry away in a quick buck/trot gait, with me hanging on to anything I could, at least for a while.
Then I’d hit the ground, where I learned my first horse rule: If you get bucked off, you climb back on. It was years and years before I found out the real reason to remount. At 6 years old, I thought you got back on because it was better than what your Dad did if you didn’t!
It defies logic to explain how Julie, in between bouts of trying to kill me, saved my life but she did. We were never great riding partners, but sometimes when we hid out together, I knew she understood me. I can’t explain it any better than that. Horses seem to know the human heart.
In a few years, we lost our farm, and all my pets were sold at auction. Our family moved to another state, but somehow Julie was still vaguely around, just out of view. What if our first ponies become guardian angels? It would explain a lot, good and bad.
Do you ever try to understand this tie between horses and humans? A drug habit would be cheaper and easier to break. Horses take most of our time and all of our money. They require bold courage and soft humility, simultaneously! And no matter how great our commitment is, we are always asked for more.
Yet somehow in the middle of this dysfunctional addiction, they rescue us. Do you feel it? Some of us get rescued from vanity and fashion sense. Some of us get rescued from fear and loneliness, and some rescued from the danger of our own species. Sometimes special horses come deep into the dark places inside of our own hearts, and carry us out to safety.
In another way, horses are born victims. They are a prey species, like rodents or deer, they are designed to be food for others. But unlike other prey, with grace and strength, they reach out and trust their predators. It’s brave and crazy, the way they herd-up with us. Maybe they understand inclusiveness more than we do, but as a result, horses are always needing rescue from unscrupulous people.
So horses and humans are forever rescuing each other. Does that make us co-dependent? Is that a bad thing?
The more I work with horses, the more I respect them. Even in their fear, they are trying to trust. For some of them, all they know of humans is abuse, and yet, they continue to try. Maybe the biggest lesson horses teach us is about forgiveness. The horse word for that is rescue.
Anna Blake, Infinity Farm.
PS. The Ruby Ranch Horse Rescue Benefit is here tomorrow. If you have a horse to thank for rescuing you, this is a good time. You could make a donation here, this year mine is in Julie’s memory.
We don’t have a lot of signs on the prairie, besides the liability sign that says riding is dangerous. We all know that, wear helmets and ride anyway. The real sign to watch is always the sky. It’s tornado season in the Midwest and they begin here as thunderstorms, not as dangerous but still violent. Lightning cancels lessons and sometimes kills horses. Weather forecasts change quickly in Colorado, so I watch the sky for the stop sign.
Anna Blake, Infinity Farm.
WordPress Photo Challenge is a weekly prompt to share a photo- I enjoy twisting these macro prompts to share our micro life here on the Colorado prairie. My photos are taken with my phone. No psych, definitely not high-tech.
You both show up at the appointed hour. One of you is more enthusiastic, the other one is second guessing being there at all. Maybe you avoid each other’s gaze. The extrovert in the couple is moving around charming everyone, while the introvert tries to become invisible. Self-conscious discomfort is the mutual truth. How long till this is over?
Everyone wants a better relationship, but a few things stand in the way. After what he has done, can you trust him? Is her nagging and complaining making you wish you were deaf? Do you wish he would relax and just try to get along? Does she say one thing and mean another?
Are relationships supposed to be this hard? Do you remember what it was like when love was new? Should you break up or live on in quiet desperation? You could spend expensive hours in lavender-colored offices with a box of Kleenex on every table. You each perch on opposite ends of an expensive but unattractive sofa and recount past mistakes. It’s enough to cause an ulcer.
If working with your horse is starting to feel like detention, stop everything! It’s time to play a game.
Horse Agility is perfect. First, it’s done in hand, that means equal footing to start. One of you has a halter and lead on, but since the goal is to work off lead, no one (you know who you are) has to get their face pulled on. In this game of finesse, communication matters more than speed and there are no wrong answers.
Think of Horse Agility as a human/equine game of 20 Questions. You start with an obstacle, like a horse-sized teeter-totter or a kids wading pool. Then you start asking your horse questions. Can you touch it with your nose? Can you put a toe on it? Now the hard part, you wait for an answer, and when you get his answer, you accept it. If your horse answers with I would rather look at that sweet little mare, that’s your first obstacle.
Just like in real life, you can’t force behavior. Some folks think being adversarial is good leadership, but it soon becomes its own punishment. And demonstrating- standing in the pool and pleading- makes no sense to your horse at all. That’s when the instructor reminds you that the horse does the obstacle, you just ask the questions.
So you go back to basics. Ask a simple question politely, reward your horse for volunteering an answer. Be generous, whether he is right or wrong, so you draw him into the game and he finds the confidence to try again. It’s just as easy to train curiosity (in horses or humans) as it is resistance, but one is much easier to live with than the other.
Now get creative with the questions. If your horse already does the tarp, can he stop on it? Back over it? Put only the left rear foot on it? Because this game is not about the tarp at all, don’t let the obstacle distract you from the real goal of training problem solving and responsiveness in you and your horse.
More direction, less correction. And at the end of the day, you and your horse are friends again. Maybe you don’t need therapy after all. Maybe the cure is to find a way to say yes to each other more often.
Why is a dressage instructor like me so wild about Horse Agility? One definition of dressage is the ability to ask any part of your horse to do anything you want. It requires relaxation, communication, and resistance-free partnership; that sounds exactly like Horse Agility. The only real difference between Agility and Dressage is that the obstacles at the letters in a dressage arena are invisible. Start easy and go up the levels, in-hand or mounted, and by the end, your equine partnership transcends games or riding disciplines and becomes that soul connection we all seek.
How does the game of Horse Agility end? That’s the best part. It doesn’t…
Anna Blake, Infinity Farm.
Sign up for HORSEPLAY ALLOWED, our Ruby Ranch Horse Rescue Benefit coming up on June 8th. And more information is on my events page.
And remember, first Saturday of the month is Horse Agility here. Come play with us.
There was a full moon my first night here at Infinity Farm, almost 14 years ago. It was nearly as bright as broad daylight. Our Clara (Claro d’Luna) was born ‘by the light of the moon’, we all stayed up to welcome her. The moon rules this farm, politely in the background.
Anna Blake, Infinity Farm.
WordPress Photo Challenge is a weekly prompt to share a photo- I enjoy twisting these macro prompts to share our micro life here on the Colorado prairie. My photos are taken with my phone. No psych, definitely not high-tech.
Ever been afraid of a horse? No? I don’t believe you. Fear is a pretty natural response, especially if your feet can’t touch the ground. It’s common sense, horses are big. They have twice as many legs. Horses have a fear/flight response, and after a certain age, so do we. (Read this, about fear and confidence.)
If you rode as a kid, ignorance was bliss. It helped to bounce well, believe in magic, and love horses more than Christmas. Fear existed then, it just had a high-pitched, whiny voice that no one listened to.
But now gravity is not as forgiving. There are people and animals that depend on you. Maturity is a little more complicated than running your horse under a tree limb to dismount like Tarzan.
Fear is natural, what we do with our fear is the question. Some of us worship it. Some of us hide it like a selfish treasure. Some of us grow it like hay for horses. And for some of us, the fear of not riding is even scarier, so we make a meal of fear.
Here’s my recipe: First you have to catch Fear, he likes to hide in the dark and breed more fear. Pretty soon there’s a whole litter of slimy little fear-babies scurrying around. Reach around in that dark place and drag out the biggest Fear you can find. Grab him by the hind legs and hold on, he’s slippery. He’ll put up a fight, trying to be bigger than he is, but it’s all scales and spit. Drag him into broad daylight and smile at him, snout to snout. He looks smaller already, doesn’t he? Put Fear in a crock-pot on low, and leave him in the kitchen.
Then go to the barn, and get out every curry you have. Turn on some slow music and groom your horse forever. When it’s late and you finally get back home, remember that good horsewomen steer clear of kitchens.
The next day, do some ground work, think Liberty, for both of you. Be the one to start trusting first, he wants less fear, too. Let your ground work swirl around the two of you like a waltz, a jitterbug, a tango. Remember that your love is bigger than fear.
“You are not working on the horse, you are working on yourself…” Ray Hunt
When you are ready to ride, go into the kitchen and pull your cooked Fear out of the crock-pot. Put it on a pretty plate and get a sharp knife. Take a look: diminished and overcooked as my mother’s gray roast. But the fear is still recognizable: gristly self-doubt, tough old hurts, dried up limitations begrudgingly agreed to. You could yell Charge! and call upon all your cowgirl patron saints to help you wage war.
Or you could cut off one bite-sized piece. Not the worst piece, just the first piece. Maybe you aren’t comfortable out of the arena. So you take that small piece, season it with courage, and start chewing. Let Fear remind you to wear a helmet and once you’re mounted and warmed up, open the gate. You don’t have to ride down to the equator and back, you can walk a circle outside the arena to start. One step at a time, you don’t have to be perfect. Swallow that chewed-up piece of fear, and wash it down with a sense of humor. Can you say masticated?
Take the next bite-sized piece; if it’s tough, cut it in two and give half to a trainer to work on with you. Some days fast on the sweetness of the journey, and remember where you started. Congratulate your horse for his kind patience, and for every year over 50 that you are, score a double co-efficient. (Dressage words for really important.)
In no time at all, the plate is empty and a wonderful thing happens. You don’t feel full at all. As a matter of fact you have room for dessert! Pick something that’s rich and sweet, thick with calories that are good for you, like trust in the eye of your horse or a partnership that holds you safe and cherished.
Eat all you want, you won’t get fat… just rich and sweet.
Anna Blake, Infinity Farm.
“If you like Pina Coladas, and getting caught in the rain.
If you’re not into yoga, if you have half-a-brain.
If you like riding at midnight, in the dunes of the cape.
You’re the love that I’ve looked for, come with me, and Escape.”
(Escape by Rupert Holmes, adjusted.)
WordPress Photo Challenge is a weekly prompt to share a photo- I enjoy twisting these macro prompts to share our micro life here on the Colorado prairie. My photos are taken with my phone. No psych, definitely not high-tech.
“You know, no one will ever care about your horse the way that you do.” My friend said it in a testy voice. I’d gotten my first horse since leaving home and she’d heard about nothing but him for the last month. Her support was wearing thin. She missed her friend who cared about art and music and movies.
A few months later, a different friend returned home to introduce her new baby. It was her dream come true, and she was so in love with her little girl that it was hard to get a word in edgewise. She didn’t ask about my colt and I didn’t bring him up. But when I was visiting, holding the baby while she showed me photos (of the same baby), she asked, “What time do you have to go to the barn?” I smiled and reminded her, “I get to go to the barn.”
I needed some horse friends fast, before I alienated everyone I knew.
Then one day a woman walked into my gallery. I was soldering in my studio in back, and I told her I would be right out. She appeared in the doorway and saw photos of my horse on the wall. Then it happened: “Is this your horse?” She invited me to her barn to meet her horses, and a friendship began. Many years later, the day after I lost a very special gelding, I saw her name on my caller ID. It was years since we boarded together, but she was a horse friend, she knew. I choked out a meager hello, one word more than she got out. There was a brief silence on the other end, then tears before words. I’m proud to say Susan is still my friend, and I’m blessed with other horse friends just like her.
Friends who agree with Ralph Waldo Emerson, “Riding a horse is not a gentle hobby, to be picked up and laid down like a game of solitaire. It is a grand passion. It seizes a person whole and once it has done so, he/she will have to accept that his life will be radically changed.”
This is what the Dude Rancher says about horse people. “They walk among us, they look just like anybody else but they’re NOT.” He’s right (even if he means it another way.)
Does this ever happen to you? You read some horrific story about horse abuse, or you have a neighbor whose daily neglect wears on your heart, or maybe someone at your barn is really hard on their horse. In that moment, the hurt and anger at your own species can result in an I hate everybody mood.
I was in that mood three weeks ago. Leslie and I had gone to see a horse she had previously owned, and I had trained. I wrote about him and the Very Thin Line between a well-loved and owned horse and a rescue horse here in my blog, as a way of trying to get past the hard feelings in that transition of bringing Our Boy back home.
I am truly humbled, overwhelmed and so grateful for the out pouring of support from so many of you. There were lots of similar stories and such good will shared here, that I know Our Boy feels the impact as well. For crying out loud, some of you even offered to send money to help! My heart swells with pride in my horse friends, a simple thank you doesn’t convey my gratitude at all.
Some of you asked for updates (like worrying about your horses aren’t enough!) Our boy is good. His eye is soft again and Edgar Rice Burro is keeping him company. His badly overgrown hooves are trimmed. He has a saddle mark on his back that is actually indented but he gets a massage this week, and with correct work those muscles will return.
I’m not sure who I was trying to protect by not using his real name but it’s Namaste. Do you know the word? It is a Buddhist/Hindu salutation, translated to mean my spirit honors yours or the Divine spark in me bows to the Divine spark in you. It’s a great name for a horse, isn’t it?
It’s a bit woo-woo for barn girls maybe, but Namaste should be how horse friends greet each other. It’s what I mean when I say howdy. (And thanks, I’ve got your back, too.)
Anna Blake, Infinity Farm.
Horses | Equestrian | AnnaBlakeBlog
