bekka

horse days

cutie pie with bunnies

I got way too much sun Saturday. I went to Horse Days, a biennial event that Jim, owner of the farm where I hang with horses, puts on at the locally owned feed and seed, Mize. There are two Mize locations, one in downtown Johnson City, close to home, and the other out in Gray, not too far from the Fossil Site, and that is where Horse Days was. Supposed to be overcast most of the day, so I didn't bring a hat.  Jim invited me to previous Horse Days to help out, but I've always declined, looked at those Saturdays off as another day to sleep in late. But this time, I came to help out.

And sleeping late? I have memories of that. Roxy wakes me up around 6:30 every morning. I put her off until, oh, maybe 7:10 and then let her outside. She's getting me into that early-morning mode which surely will be helpful when baby arrives.

Jessie bobs for apples

Horse Days has a clown, horseback rides, face painting, bobbing for apples, and a petting zoo with Wilbur the calf, Chiquita the lamb, and a goat with no name. There were bunnies, too. Almost forgot that Trap, father of my Roxy, displayed his frisbee catching skills as well. My job, for much of the day, was being Trap's keeper. Not such a bad job, though there were dicey moments when we thought he might break pottery or get aggressive with other dogs.

Jessie and Joelle ahorseback

Mostly to socialized with Laura and all the other equestrian types. Also answered a few questions about the summer program that their non-profit org is having beginning in June. Little Dudes Ranch Project meets on Thursdays from 12-5 throughout the summer and is free. Kids of all ages learn horsemanship, gardening, animal husbandry, and farm chores. I just wish I could help out during the summer, but I have work. Wah. So maybe I'll take a few days of annual leave just to be involved with that.

another cutie pie, Jim, & Jewells

Whew, never enough horsey activities for me. Horses, horses, horses. One of the highlights was seeing all the children's faces light up at the sight of the horses.  From toddlers to teenagers, they lined up and waited in the sun for twenty or thirty minutes at a time to have their chance to go around the parking lot on Biscuit or Jewells.

equine boredom

When I'm bored, I find ways to entertain myself. I pick up a book or magazine and read. Or I start another new knitting project. Sometimes I turn on the television and hope to find one interesting thing. On rare occasions I even clean/de-clutter my home. But one thing I don't do: I don't gnaw wood. I have some average-sized teeth, but I don't put them to that kind of use.

Horses do. This is a an open stall door that some bad bad horse chewed on. The sign, that isn't visible, reads Traces. But I'm not certain she's the culprit. Stable owners often replace boards when they're destroyed by bored bored horses. You'd think they might do a jig or something, but no. The horses, not the stable owners.

unplanned hiatus

Somehow, it got more and more difficult to get back into blogging after my recent break. Thanks for your inquires wondering if I was bucked off the back of the earth or something. I'm okay, just overextended and somewhat perpetually snotty.

Haven't felt like I had much to blog about of late. Knitted one thing, a scarf for Debbie, a colleague, who lost her husband before Christmas. I planned to give her it for Christmas, but she was out quite a bit and I decided to wait and present it to her on Valentine's Day. That worked. She was touched by my gesture.  She crochets but wants to learn to knit, so I told her that we'd have a knitting lunch together sometime soon. It was similar to all the other scarves I made this fall, but much wider; and was also made of Noro.

But part of the making of the scarf for her was honoring her husband's memory. One of Barry's brothers gave a grand eulogy. He said that Barry figured out the meaning of life: Find something you love to do and then give it away. I love knitting. So I made this scarf and gave it to Debbie. Barry was a fine carpenter. He spent hours making objects and then gave them to those whom he loved.

Otherwise, I'm just not knitting so much. Roxy, my four month old border collie, eats up a lot of my time. We're going to obedience training Thursday nights, so my accordion lessons are pushed into the afternoon and I do that instead of lunch. Roxy has earned quite a reputation at obedience class and is referred to as "The Border Collie."

Mondays I have a public history class which is interesting to me, certainly. For my project I'm researching the 1918 influenza pandemic and its effect on my city. Also have an online class, I'm taking courses towards earning an archives certificate. So lots of reading and working on busy work; not so much time left to blog.

On Tuesday night I'm volunteering at the farm where I ride.  There's a local organization called Coalition for Kids, and they provide after-school and evening activities for low-income, at-risk children. Julie, Dually's owner, who is on its board of directors, asked me to help out with things in September or October. I had to fill out an application and go through a background check. Then, I started showing up in January and let me tell you, the cold was bitter several nights while we worked in the semi-sheltered arena.

The kids are great fun, plus I get constant reminders on tack parts, so I'm building my own equine vocabulary. I work with Rebekah. She schools the kids on everything and I'm mostly the person who walks alongside to make sure the child doesn't slip off the saddle. Darek, one of the nine year old boys, is a constant questioner. From "What is that pipe in the ceiling?" to "What is that red on your teeth?" Lipstick, I told him. Those questions keep me on my toes. They exhaust me, really. That and telling them to keep their shoulders back and heels down. It's all about posture and seat, you know!

On to snottiness: I've been plagued with sinus infections. So I'm not feeling well at all. Instead of blogging about it, I've curled in front of the tv watching way too many Jane Austen adaptations or Austen-inspired movies. Also checked out several Austen books to read since I have the basic plots and characters down due to motion pictures.

And, I may soon gain the moniker "Chicken Lady." Jim, the owner of the farm where I ride and volunteer with kids, said that the next item on his agenda is finishing up his chicken shed. This summer we talked chickens and he offered to let me be in charge of his chickens. Now I've got a bit of work to do as well.

Farm-fresh eggs, yum.

Then, too, he wants to start a non-profit organization that pairs all kinds of kids together and teaches them about farm life. He's quite upset that many children don't understand that beef comes from cows, not from McDonald's and wants to rectify that, by providing an environment in which children can learn and play and discover the workings of nature. He's asked me to be a part of that in whatever regard I can manage.

But, that is a great commitment, and I'm still thinking about what role I might play and how much time I might spare. During Saturday's ride I asked Laura, my riding companion who is doing some of the administrative work on the project, whether she'd applied for 401c3 status. And that tipped her and them off that I might be more valuable than what they thought.

I'm also not carrying my camera along with me everyday and have not been taking photos like usual, like crazy. Sorry, no good photos to share, either. The scarfy one above was taken with my cell phone.

these boots

my Ariats and Jewells

Besides wedding and engagement rings, the only other thing I wear with any kind of regularity are my cowboy boots. At least four days a week, I slip them on over long socks, pull my jeans over top, and go to the stable/farm to work with horses. If it's wet out, which isn't an issue so much, or if my boot cut jeans are slightly longer than my legs, I tuck them inside the boots.

My cowboy boots are in my top three of comfortable footwear. I could wear them everyday. I  could walk miles and miles in them. They're dusty from our very dry summer. They're slighty stinky, too. I don't clean them up but maybe once a month. Hasn't been any mud to knock off of them, so mostly it's manure. They're perfect workboots. Great for getting down in the soil. And, the best at protecting my feet from when Dually steps on them. If you didn't know, the front part of a horse's hoof doesn't hurt when it lands on your foot. It's the back part of the hoof where all the weight is. Keep away from that part.

burred-out Trap begs for biscuits beside my boots

Pull on your boots and see what other photographers' favorite walking shoes are at week two of Self Portrait Challenge's What You Wear.

misty taste of moonshine

Charlie & Angel

On Sunday I hitched up my pants, crawled up a buckboard wagon, and planted my butt on the catbird seat. It was my first time sitting in the catbird seat. You see, Blogless Amy invited me over to her parents farm for a ride in her father's wagon. It's about one hundred years old.

Soon after we rolled down the gravel driveway Amy's father nudged the reins to me and let me drive. Oh me. Oh my. Such trust. I kept us out of the ditch on the right size of the road. But was only in control three or four minutes before Richard took back the reins.

His catbird seat is not as high as most. He lowered it because his team, Charlie and Angel, are both about two years old. They learned working and walking in the harness quite well, but horses are easily boogered and Richard thought it safest to keep the distance between him and the ground the closest possible.  And let me tell y0u, the catbird seat is the best in the wagon. It has springs. Poor Amy and Ian were bouncing and bumping along, feeling all manner of shocks despite the bales of hay between their butts and the wagon's floor.

We drove down the road in front of Richard's house. It's winding, but not well-traveled, so we didn't worry about cars. Charlie and Angel were great. Cars, barking dogs, and other horses who came to whinny hellos through their fences at the side of the road didn't bother them a bit. Poor Charlie did all the pulling, all the work. That Angel knew she had it made and Richard occasionally tapped her  rump to get her in line and do her part.

Sunday was doubly nice because the sun was shining and the weather was in the seventies; perfection. We moved about three miles per hour. And the short time I spent riding in the wagon gave me a small bit of perspective on just how long it takes to travel in that manner. Imagine traveling that "fast" on your way from Tennessee to California. Oh wait, but you'd have a fully loaded wagon and only travel at one mile per hour. 

back to life

I'm just not knitting right now. But I am blogging about food more so than I am about anything crafty. And busy with life. Trying to get back into the swing of things despite being back from vacation for two whole weeks.

Vacation was great. I read a lot. Ate out a lot. We drove a lot. Didn't snorkel or dive or go on a boat though, and that was probably the most disappointing thing of all.

Visited two yarn stores both with the same name. So it was like a chain.

Jupiter Inlet Lighthouse, Jupiter, Fla.

My substitute for knitting is reading. My nose is always stuck in a book. Oh, I'm taking an online class for an archives certificate. Like I need another thing to add to my cv. But I'm compulsive about education. If I'm not earning a degree or taking classes, I feel like I'm not taking advantage of all the opportunities I have.

Palm Beach, Fla.

Work is super-busy. Whew. Most days I'm buried and barely make it up for air.

Oh, I went to a collage class earlier this week during lunch. I hoped it might inspire my creativity, but I'm still waiting on that. We worked on pulling images and words from magazines and next week we're to construct our collages with an eye or brain toward Someday. As in "Someday I want to write a novel," or "Someday I want to climb Kilimanjaro." And then somehow you discern things about yourself after pondering your collage long enough. Our teacher based our workshop on principles she learned from Sarah Ban Breathnach.

Singer Island, Fla.

Responding to email or reading blogs seems so daunting. Surely it will take lots of time. And I'm bad about wanting to do it all in one batch. So I'm just averting my eyes for now. Hope to get back into the swing of things after Columbus Day when I return from a trip to DC to see Fiona and Anna for our Second Annual Unholy Three Reunion.

And here I didn't think I'd have anything to write about.

P.S. I still love horses!

moebius down, more to go

In theory being away from work for a week or two allows me to spend more time knitting, or sewing, or working on the fun projects I enjoy so much and don't have so much time for because work gets in the way. But I'm just lazy. A layabout. I'm prone to sleep late. Nap in the middle of the day. Otherwise enter a dreamy state when I'm not bound by a regular schedule.

It's day 3 of vacation and the only thing I have to show for it is this moebius. Bound it off yesterday. Stopped by LYS to borrow a 17 needle, which I don't own. My moebius was knit on US 15. I love the colors. But I don't love it. Arranging it is a bother. Tried to show it to Ian, but got so frustrated I ripped it over my head and flung it onto the couch.

"At least you can see its colors," I told him.

It's not as long as I hoped it would be. I knitted and knitted on it and thought it was long enough, but no. Now I wonder whether I'll ever wear it.

Bought several cross stitch patterns at my LCSS (local cross stitch shop). I'm fortunate to have one. Entered the shop on the pretense of looking for horse cross stitch patterns. There were two or three, but none appealed to me. In cross-stitch I prefer primitive or early American designs. And all those horsey patterns were contemporary.

The weirdest thing ever was that I caught my cousin puffing on a cigarillo after leaving the shop and walking down Main Street to my car. He's either lived in Ky. or in Kingsport, Tenn., an adjacent city for most of his life. Guess I didn't know that his office was in my city. He never recognizes me. He's closer to the age of my father than to me; his sons are four or five years younger than I. Years ago when we gathered at our grandmother's house for Christmas Randy thought I was his youngest brother's girlfriends. So yeah, family.

Jessica & Jonathan sitting in a tree...

And speaking of family, my sister moved in temporarily. I see her less than an hour each day because her school and work schedule keeps her going non-stop. It's nice having her here. Our father told me to take care of her. Then the next day he spoke to Ian and reiterated that sentiment. She's nearly 21 and this is the first time she's not lived at home.

Later that day we went to the bookstore and I bought the new issue of Mary Englebreit's Home Companion. I love the magazine. It's fabulously packed with projects, designs, and ideas that inspire me. But I've never loved Mary's illustrations. I find them too precious, too cloying. They are lovely, but not my taste. 

I stopped on one of the pages featuring autumnal note cards because one of the images contained objects identical to the cross stitch pattern I bought: Crows and red berries. The pattern is a Diane Graebner design. Most of her cross stitch designs feature Amish folk, much like the watercolors of Buckley Moss (my mom's a collector). This Graebner was maybe the only one not featuring a Plain person. I have the linen and thread to complete this project and may take it along to Florida to have a change from knitting.

As if anyone ever needs a change from knitting!

But then again, I may not. I'm notorious for buying linen and thread for cross stitch projects and then letting them pile up. I'm sure I have a half dozen projects waiting to be started.

Then what else? Ummm I went to a Celtic festival over the weekend. Listened to some chill-inspiring fiddle paying. That's an achievement on such a hot day as it was. Found an Epona pendant. She's the Celtic horse goddess and was worshiped in Rome as well.

Reinforced some buttons on a coat for Ian. Also rigged up a button-hole on a new ball cap he bought. The strap in the back was way too long and didn't naturally tuck in under the hat band like a lot of the nicer-made ones do. He asked me to slice into it and make a place to thread the strap through. Had to sew the "button hole" by hand since something was in the way of my doing it by machine. Those hand-sewing skills are easily lost if not used regularly.

Don't know the availability of internet access where we're going. We may hang out at a bookstore or library to get online, but I don't have a laptop and Ian may not be so much into sharing his. I already miss reading your blogs and I haven't left yet. That reminds me: Last night while at the bookstore, Ian and I sat in the cafe area and browsed our purchases before committing. Single people on their laptops dotted the space. It was rather sad. Looked lonesome. Maybe I'm projecting.

repeat scarf offender

Just in case you wondered whether I was doing anything creative I finished that simple scarf Thursday night while watching Hidalgo. I loved the movie even when I wasn't a new-fangled-horse-lovin-fool. So if you haven't seen it, then Viggo Mortenson's starring role should do it for you. In honor of the movie, of the horse, that is, I named the scarf Hidalgo. But it works with that colorway. It's another Noro lovely. And all the colors are ones found in Hidalgo's everyday-Arabian world: Golden-Yellow of the blistering sun, blue of the endless sky, browns of the shifting, scalding sands.

This other scarf, which I probably started Friday and have less than a dozen rows to go on, I call Rainbow Connection. It features every color in the rainbow and reminds me of one of those kooky eighties ribbon belts that were popular preppy wear.

This time I'm knitting the Noro on US4, at least I think. Can't find my needle sizer-thing, so it's mostly guesswork. US4 works well with this Kuyeron. I never like flimsy, so I'm always going down a needle size to make everything tighter.

Plus, when someone asks that inappropriate question "Are you a tight knitter?" I usually decline to answer. No! I am a tight knitter. And I keep my work near the points of my needles so that I work very closely, too.

And, whooty-whoot. I ordered my first skeins of sock yarn from Hello Yarn this afternoon just after her update. And it was a good thing I was stalking her shop at 2 o'clock sharp because some of those skeins went like hotcakes on a cold snowy morn!

frickin snow white

Dually rolling

The other day while working with Dually I had an interesting experience. When I work with Dually I groom him and then sit in the shade and watch him graze; make sure he doesn't wander off down the road and into traffic. It's a ways away, that traffic, but you never know when a horse will take a wild hair and trot off. The grooming part might take thirty minutes or so if he's really muddy. One of the new tricks this old horse does is rolling in the grass. It's the best thing. The best feeling. For me and him, I'm sure. I feel like my time and energy are being spent well when I see Dually roll. Because it means he's content. And I'm doing something good for an old horse.

Rebekah, cowgirl extraordinaire

He was rolling. I was in the shade. There are dogs at the stable where I ride. When I have Dually down-time and the dogs come around I brush groom them also, with the horse brushes. They seem to enjoy it. They're outdoor dogs and don't get a lot of attention or coddling. When the weather turns too hot, Jim's assistant gets out the sheep shears and removes a bit of hair, so they're more comfortable. But it ain't pretty.

Speaking of sheep... I don't have photos yet, but one of Jim's sheep gave birth to twins. They are adorable. So tiny. Oh, baby animals. I am super sappy about baby animals. But these little sheep are darling and I cannot wait to meet them all proper-like. And snap their photo!

Channeling Show White

So I'm grooming Molly and Rebekah, one of Jim's stablehands, comes over to talk to me (I mentioned her in an earlier post; she rides bareback like it's nothing). A butterfly lands on my shoulder. And won't leave. I shrugged my shoulder. I blew on it. It was there for good, kind of like Polly on her pirate captain's shoulder during a rough gale. I looked up at Rebekah and told her I felt like Snow White: Got my horse rolling over there. Two dogs lining up to be groomed. And that danged butterfly resting on my shoulder. She laughed.

thirty-sizzle all year

Gosh I've been lazy about posting of late. Been busy. It's hot. And feeling tired is de rigeur here.

Ian ordered this purple-horsey cake for me (horse was supposed to be brown)

My 36th birthday came and went. It was last week, the second. I couldn't sleep at all that night. And so I wrote a very long post about my birthday. Then didn't post it because I have issues with being succinct. So instead of going on and on about my day, which turned out to be really wonderful in many different ways, let's just say that I don't feel 36. There are memory lapses, misplaced objects, chronic headaches, seasonal allergies, and a new creaking in my left knee that began about six months ago. One of the good things is that I've got decent genes. I can pass for 26, certainly 30.

I hand-pieced a few nine-patch quilt squares. Haven't ironed them, so they're imperfect in this photo. Hand sewing hurt my finger. Finally found a thimble and that made hand-sewing more awkward than ever. Have about seven of these squares in all. Not sure what I'll do with them. Make a lap quilt? Then I also have more pieces I can sew together to make a bigger quilt.

Boring sometimes works for me. I love the same old boring project. That's why I've knitted five or six of these scarves. I want to knit, but I don't want a challenge. My attention span is limited these days.

Buxley, a.k.a Buck

This is Buxley. I fed him apples on my birthday. Last time I spent time with him he was head shy and wouldn't let me touch him. He's twenty-something and belongs to Blogless Amy's parents. Her father might give him to me. But then again, maybe not.

My mom gave me two charms and I put them on a chain and wore them.

Ian gave me something horsey, too. I found it in Sundance catalog and sent him an email.

Our weather is hot and humid. It's in the low nineties almost everyday, but the humidity makes being outside intolerable. And its affecting my asthma; making me wheezier than usual.

My new camera arrived in Tuesday's mail. I've taken a few photos with it. Somehow it disappoints me. Guess my skills are lacking. Could be that I'm lacking a few lenses, too. Anyway, I am pleased with how green it made my eyes appear. It's a Canon Rebel XTI, btw. I'm looking at my two-year old Sony thinking that I like it a lot better than the fancy new one. Deciding between Canon and Nikon took up a lot of space in my brain. Loved the Nikon D80, but didn't want to save $$$$ for it. Then too, a lot of my favorite photo bloggers have the Rebel and I'm in awe of their skills. The more I read comparing Canon to Nikon the more I learned about the superiority of the Canon lens and what a better value it was than the Nikon. Hope I arrived at the right decision on that.