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Archive for April, 2008

Sandy thinks he looks cool on Darling’s sweatshirt!

So, what have I been doing that’s taking me away from blogging here at Carpenter Creek?  Working my rear end off, that’s what!

Sandy the Mustang has been moved to a training facility south of me.  I’m there daily.  In order to pay off his board, I clean stalls.  I’m building muscle.  I’m losing weight.  I smell like horse pee…

Effie May, the bottle lamb, goes with me each day.  We pack a diaper bag and warm bottles of milk.  I change her diapers and she fights me, escaping the diaper and pees on me.  I smell like sheep pee mingled with horse pee…

I rode Sandy in the round pen.  We tried to lope.  He jumped and bumped and nearly unseated me.  I’m lucky I didn’t pee my pants.  Then again…perhaps I did and I’m just not telling you!!!

Li’l Rip

The other day I brought my camera down and decided to grab a few shots of one of the young geldings out to play.  This horse ought to be a model for Breyer he’s so blasted pretty!  I fiddled around with one of the images and came up with this one.  I had it printed into a greeting card and am really happy with the way it turned out.  Also printed a 5×7 and framed it for my buddy, Curt the horse trainer as a thank you for all the help he’s given me with Sandy.  If you’d like to order cards or a 5×7, let me know!  Cards are $3.25 each or 12/$25; photos are $15.

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But you know how weak I am!  Without you here to guide me, I just melt into a puddle…a spineless, bottle baby puddle…

Who could resist these little diapered bottoms???

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Who, Me? Jittery?

Sandy was moved down to my friend Curt’s place last week.  We wanted to get out of the rain.  Training horses in rain, mud, and on slick ground just isn’t my cup of tea.

Life is good under cover!

After a week of ground work, Sandy seemed to be settling in.  I grabbed Darling’s helmet and on Wednesday I had a ground crew of one available to help out and climbed on board!  Jay walked alongside Sandy while I gave him the cues to start and stop.  I hope you can forgive me, as there are no photos, I’m afraid.  Holding on and taking pictures at the same time just wasn’t going to work for me.  Sandy is nothing like Jet was, nor Quiet Storm.  He’s easily startled, meaning all my concentration goes into keeping his mind relaxed.

Yesterday Sandy had a visitor.  That visitor administered Happy Drugs to him and he had his teeth filed down.  Horses teeth grow in the back and sometimes become so sharp that they can’t chew their feed.  That’s what was happening to Sandy; he’d drop his grain or it’d just pass on through undigested.  He also struggled eating his hay when it became too coarse and it would pass through the other end looking like it’d been chopped or shredded rather than eaten and digested.  I can take a picture of that for you, if you’d like?  While the vet was inside his mouth, he also removed Sandy’s wolf teeth.  These teeth, if left in, can often leave a horse feeling quite uncomfortable as the bit can clang against them.

My mouth feels funny!

Before Sandy came down completely from his Happy Drugs, my ground crew thought it would be a good idea to ride.  Better to have him relaxed, they said, so that he could concentrate on what I was asking.

The only problem here was that Sandy knew he wasn’t feeling quite right.  Rather than being half asleep, that horse acted as if he’d made one too many trips to Starbucks and I swear he was dancing the Jitterbug.  Thankfully I had Jay alongside me to talk him down out of his emotional high and keep me safe.  Ride number two ended well, but remind me never to ride a horse hopped up on caffeine or happy drugs again, okay?

Jay leads  an unwilling Sandy into the round pen

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Wabbit Math

Wabbits, they say, can multiply.

I was always taught that 1+1 = 2.  And that 1×1=1.  At no time during my years in school did I learn that 1×1 or 1+1 would equal anything more than 1 or 2.

So how did I end up with four?  Obviously, this is new form of wascally wabbit math that I never learned in school.  I wonder if Darling can explain it to me?

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Poetry

It’s not on your every day ordinary blog

You can take a walk through trees and bog

And see photos of poop from some wild dog…

I’ll bet you’re happy for that, aren’t you?

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The Flying Potatoes

Darling wants to start a band.  Never mind that she hasn’t got an instrument, hasn’t a clue how to play one even if she did, and inherited the oh-so-wonderful singing voice of a certain Desperate Horsewife.  She has a dream and that dream is to have a band.  A band she calls The Flying Potatoes.

Darling will play the drums, she’s decided.  I suppose she’s had more experience at that than other musical instrument, seeing as how she used to bang and clang on pots and pans.  She also has a lead singer for her group.  Lanky Hanky has offered up her vocal talents.  Why, I have no clue.  One can only assume that there is some genetic defect that runs through the entire family; I’m rather relieved to know it’s running rampant in my sister’s family as for a while I’d thought it was only mine.

Defective Potato Heads

In anycase, it was Lanky Hanky’s thirteenth birthday this weekend, and Darling  couldn’t resist wrapping Lanky’s gift in a box designed specifically for her cousin and lead singer.  I really think their band ought to be The Defective Potato Heads, though.  What do you think?

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