On order

When you can't ride, shop. That's my motto.

And since it seems like I can have fun on a horse, I'm committing by buying new tack. :)

Here's what should be arriving sometime after the turkey leftovers are gone (the one in blue)....



And one of these...



And more glucosomine, which based on the price, is part cocaine. Yesh.

(kidding. I'm just kidding!)

What was the last thing (other than food) you bought to stimulate the horsey economy?

Back to the lake...

Today was the trail ride I was trying to get Cibolo ready for. Then we had that incident yesterday and I decided to give myself a break.

I rode Lily.

Lily has had some issues with the trailer, but she loaded right up. Then we went to pick up a friend and her Paso Fino/Arabian, Diego.

Diego does not like trailers.

I load Lily in the back section of the trailer, because she bolts out. (Remember when we went through all kinds of trailer issues?) Well, we're past them, but keeping her in the back works great since she can't work up any steam getting out. And she loads back there just fine.

When I arrived at my friend's to pick her and Diego, I unloaded Lily.

And Diego wouldn't go in.

After some *discussion* we decided he might feel better with Lily in there. So in she goes, demonstrating perfect self loading. I felt like she'd just sung a solo in the school choir.

It took some work, but Diego got in. And we were only an hour late (30 minutes my fault - I forgot my wallet at home and had to circle back).

But no one with horses should be in a hurry, right?

Interestingly at the end of the ride we realized that Diego needed, among other things, the visual of the door closing to jump in. It was as if that was his *real* cue...



So here are more pictures at the lake - just cell phone pictures, unfortunately. It was a beautiful fall day.

This is a mid point on the 3 mile trail along the lake shore. The white in the distance is a large set of time shares.





Anisha on Diego. Lily likes Diego.

A glance of the lake through the fields. Our lake is a Corp of Engineers Lake which means no one is allowed to build along the shore. Which means it stays beautiful.




Davy on Amigo, Kelly on Chico. The two most chilled out trail horses in north america. The don't spook at ANYTHING.




At the end of the trail you see this beautiful view of one of the favorite water skiing coves. Flat water, perfect for those rooster tails.



This sign shows you why this area has nothing built on it. That sign in the tree? It got there thanks to flood waters. Ironically the sign says "For Emergency Use Only."




Lily shines copper metallic in the sun, even though I didn't get to brush her out. Just her inner glow.


A few barns are along the trail, typical Texas hill country barns with flat roofs and stalls facing the lake. Yes, horses like a lake view.




Several streams are flowing these days. Lily decided not to drink, but started pawing immediately. She loves the water.



It was a wonderful ride. Three hours for the 6 mile loop. I was able to completely relax. No worries.

This is what I want.


I know Lily is an extraordinary horse. I picked her for my husband and daughter because she's perfectly reasonable. I won't let anyone ride her without understanding how to use their hands and not pull on her mouth. She trots like a dream.

And at the end I felt a connection with Lily I hadn't felt before. Can't explain it, but generally Lily has been stand offish with me. And at first on the ride if she'd do something I'd get uneasy. But over those six miles I felt better, began using my seat, neck reining, pushing her ever so slightly. We worked together.

The worst thing Lily does when she doesn't want to do something is turn around. By the end, I was able to turn her one more time and get her to relax. And me too. I gave her a scratch in the trailer and for the first time she didn't avoid it. She relaxed like Cibolo does under my touch.

She's my confidence builder.

So where does that leave me? I'm considering a couple things:

Keep Lily for myself, sell Cibolo and get a gaited horse for Adam. Adam has a bad back and really needs a smooth ride (which Lily has). The few times my daughter wants to ride, I can ride the gaited horse.

Ride Lily on trail rides in the near term and continue to work with Cibolo in certain settings with certain people I can rely on to help me train him. Bring in a trainer to work on his two issues (rides with lots of horses and things springing up from under his feet).

Maybe I'm not the rider Cibolo needs for the next few years. Maybe he needs someone who is more confident NOW. Maybe I'd be that person in 6 months.

I don't know. But I'm not going to decide right now. Right now I'm just happy to realize that I do like to go horseback riding.

It is fun.

Two steps forward, one buck back.

Can you tell she really didn't want to go on a trail ride?

New Saddle. Thank you ebay.

Her horse is listening.

Backing.

Rubbing.

Out on the trail at Canyon Lake. Adam in front with our BO, Donna.

My Happier rider.

We borrowed a horse - this is the first time we've been out all together.

We divide up - and off goes Adam and Donna on a little trot time.

Me. Before IT happened.

Beautiful tree break...

The Sorrel Gang.

After here Cibolo got jiggy.
I got him under control.
His foot slid in the mud.
It startled him.
Then he bucked.
I stayed on.
I kept riding.
Turned him, worked him. Got off for a while
where we were trying to do some trail work.
Got back on and rode.

I'm pretty discouraged at this point.

Because I don't think can do bucking. Period.


We rode back. My mood matched the sky.

Still does.

I wanted to ride.

After a pretty rough week, between work and my accident in El Paso (I'm completely fine - all that trotting, no doubt), I had carved out a pocket of time for today.

Then there was this.


and this.


That's us, in the yellow. Sigh.

So I decided to at least visit my horses. Brushing, rubbing and just plain being. When I got to the barn there was a brief parting of the clouds, so much so that I contemplated going on a ride. But it did look only like the briefest of reprieves.

Instead we went on a walk.

Cibolo was at the fence, ready. Actually everyone was, but the gelding melted away while Cibolo waited for me to push the others around.

I've been trying to do the crazy walk with Cibolo that Kate describes. We're not doing it at liberty, but I find that Cibolo seems to follow my lead pretty well. He matches me step for step on backing, moving forward, but is a little slow picking up the trot. We worked on it a bit, then walked through the woods. We trotted through a few places, I pulled up some branches, we plowed through others.

I really do like walking with a well behaved horse - one that leads well, which Cibolo does. It's fun to have this huge dog running with you, skidding to a stop when you stop, backing up if you do, turning on a dime.

We got back to the barn before the rain started again, the blue veiled again by gray. Cibolo backed a step for his cookie and maintained his manners throughout.

It's supposed to be a pretty day tomorrow...

El Paso and thoughts in between

Going home again is fraught with danger. Memories carefully misplaced can rise to sudden prominence. The roads you drove on disappear under strip malls. Kisses under trees are lost in the wind that cuts through time, leaving only a lingering sense of the promises you made to one another.

I was excited to go to El Paso, mostly to meet with an old friend who recently contacted me after reading my other blog - Crib-Notes. We had, for those ridiculous reasons you have in high school, become estranged. Or maybe it wasn't anything that dramatic. Maybe we just slipped from each other's grasp.

But it's been absolutely soothing to be back in touch. We were the odd chicks of our little farming community. We had wounds we never showed, even to each other. Now as grown women with families and time, we can share like we could have - had we only been wise enough.

Wisdom, for what ever reason, is not generally distributed to 16 year olds. So here we are.


Some of San Elizario seems the same to me. The canal along my grandparent's cotton farm still flows with muddy water, bits of the Rio Grande's desert gold flowing on the steep banks.



The trees my grandfather planted, so spindly and tiny, have gotten huge. They have suffered from a lack of care, my grandfather doted on them so, and even though there weren't very many, we called it the orchard.



The fields are filled with the leavings of the cotton picking harvesters. I remember being shocked at how much was missed, at the clouds of dusty cotton on the ends of the road. We used to jump in the cotton trailer, getting scratched and filthy from all the raw cotton. I grabbed a clump to bring home.



We stopped by the cemetery. It's a very traditional cemetery, the older section with only wooden crosses, the newer section with marble, the Virgen, little fenced off areas, and new plastic flowers. Two other vehicles were there when we arrived in this tiny cemetery, visiting.


The church is as beautiful as I remember it. Here's a brief excerpt from the novel I'm working on that describes it.

Sunlight brightened the curves of the church, adding to the sense of serenity and sensuality, a strange and compelling mix for a catholic church. What may have, at one time, been meant to be austere was revealed by countless painters to be something altogether different.

Apparently the area has become a place for artists to gather. They have opened galleries, have festivals once a month. There is something about this place.

We've talked a long time about selling my grandmother's farm.

I came back and asked my mother to at least not sell our part of it.

---------------

The accident

Long story short on this one - I came to a stretch of highway on Monday where there are, apparently, many accidents (there where three on Monday). I think it has to do with the design of the road and the way the sun in the morning will hit you unexpectedly.

Anyway the woman in front of me stopped suddenly, my rental car refused my desperate calls to stop on a dime (or a quarter), then I was hit by another woman.

I felt lousy yesterday, still not so great this morning, but by the afternoon I felt fine. I went to the doctor anyway (since the folks at work went through some effort to set up a clinic I could go to) and after he found two tender areas, pronounced me bruised, but able!

So I'm going to do some more yoga (which helped tremendously) and just thank my guardian angel for working overtime.

I hope the woman I hit is doing ok. She sustained the least damage to her vehicle, but is older and getting hit from behind is tough on the back.

And in a strange way, it may be a good thing that this happened. There have been some... strains in other areas of my world and this has shaken them loose and allowed them to drain away.

In Spanish we say "No hay mal por que bien no venga." Nothing bad happens without something good coming from it.

Threeway on the Freeway

Just a quick note.

Had a car wreck in El Paso.

Am mostly okay, but I'm going to the doc today because I'm sore, have a head ache and feel like I slept on the floor for two days.

It's amazing how complicated things get when you are renting a car, driving for work. I couldn't even see a doctor until today.

Counting my blessings, though.

Maybe I'll see my horse (who suddenly seems much safer) today...

OT: Appliance heaven...

For a year and a half, this was my world. When our dishwasher died a lime coated death, we kept saying we were going to just fix it. I bought parts, tried different fixes, but nothing worked for more than one cycle.

Money was tight and I had a new found sense of frugalty. I can wash dishes by hand, darn it! I don't need a dishwasher!!

Just one problem.

I. Hate. Washing. Dishes.

So, thanks to the greatest accountant in the world getting us a HUGE tax refund, here it is. My favorite non-horse aquisition.

Mr. Westinghouse. Complete with POWERSCOUR.

Isn't he handsome? I love his blue eyes.

I remember in my 20s I was APPALLED that women got excited about appliances. Sigh. I'm sooo old...