In my office I have a poster which reads: "Warning: This Person May Talk About Horses At Any Given Moment"!
The pictogram figure has a 'talk bubble' with a prancing horse in it. So, friends, family and lurkers of the internet, be Warned!
Winston Churchill loved horses, and riding. He famously said 'There is something about the outside of a horse that is good for the inside of a man' (today I hope he would have said 'or woman' hmmm). And, 'No hour of life is wasted that is spent in the saddle'. And I am the poster girl for this. Another favourite quote (and oh, there are so many, from Shakespeare to Seuss!)
Four things greater than all things are, -
Women and Horses and Power and War.~Rudyard Kipling, "The Ballad of the King's Jest"
Ergo, a woman on a horse must be ESPECIALLY great, ha!
I do find it a challenge to explain or convey the deep mystery of this truth, how connection with an equine (or several) has wrought a profound change in me over the past three years. It has been almost exactly that long since I took the leap of faith to buy a 'baby' draft horse while still very overweight myself, with only a foggy concept of how he could change my life. Fast forward three years. I won't bore you with the details, but I do want to list the miracles that have happened as a result of this partnership:
1. It takes courage and trust (and learning from a great coach!) to be 'with' horses. They are big powerful animals hardwired as 'prey' and so need to be treated with respect and understanding as to their need for leadership, consistency and care. I have gained much confidence and courage in handling Jacob and the Red Phoenix Farm horses - each with their own personalities.
2. Age doesn't matter. I turned 55 last year. I used to lament (once I turned 45 or so) that I was now 'past it' in regards to horses, or at best I could have a mini horse as a 'pet'. I now feel MUCH younger than I ever have, with only occasional musculoskeletal twinges reminding me that I am not really 21 after all...
3. Horses reflect my emotions. If I am feeling 'off' or 'low', I share it with Jacob (or now Lucera) and they just gaze at me with their wise eye close to mine. I place my hand on their neck (they may be munching hay or just standing there) and absorb the pure 'in the moment-ness' which characterizes their lives, joy at having sweet good hay, companionable silence and just 'being'. All the negative vibes collected from the day or physical frailty melt away as I absorb the energy of their groundedness.
4. Yes, I can! Who would have thought I could have the bravery to ride a hot blooded Andalusian mare? Again, the journey has brought me a courage that I did not know I possessed, both in my equine related life and in all of life's spheres, to grab life and inhale deeply, to live, to thrive, to experience the joy! I know I stumble constantly, but my eyes are open to new possibilities.
5. I want to share this with others. I invite friends to spend some time with me and my equine companions, to experience the connection and explore the possibility of riding. C'mon, you know you want to! Especially women approaching 'that certain age'... discover (or rediscover) the passion of being a horse 'person'. No regrets.
You were warned.... thanks for making it through my list! PS This morning I was treated to the vision of a sunrise over RP Farm, causing Jacob's still fuzzy winter coat to be backlit pure gold as he munched his pile of hay. As I returned to my car after completing the breakfast chores, on the other side of the barn, Lucera lifted her head as I called out my 'goodbye' for the morning. What a wonderful start to the day.
Thursday, 21 March 2013
Monday, 11 March 2013
Spirals
I have always been fascinated by spirals. I feel strangely drawn to them as a shape and often choose a spiral motif, even unconsciously, in clothing, earrings, decorating accents, artwork, and even when doodling absentmindedly. On the desktop of my computer I have a folder called 'Spirals'... filled with (you guessed it) images gleaned from the internet - of spirals found in nature on both the macro level (spiral galaxies) and micro level (fractals). Plants, animals, seashells, architecture, minerals, all displaying the pleasing, compelling movement inherent in the shape of a spiral. Somehow, they speak to me in a very profound way. Remember the beginning of the Yellow Brick Road? From the centre, to the adventure.
Beginnings, endings, the tumbling forward of time and eternity, all reflected within a spiral's turning. Tonight I needed to pause and be reminded of the profound, undeserved blessings in my life and who holds the centre together for all time. Perhaps that is the metaphor of spirals for me: a recognition of the centre of all things and a continuous daily ebb and flow, a journey towards that centre and then back out again into the adventures of life. Deo gratias.
Beginnings, endings, the tumbling forward of time and eternity, all reflected within a spiral's turning. Tonight I needed to pause and be reminded of the profound, undeserved blessings in my life and who holds the centre together for all time. Perhaps that is the metaphor of spirals for me: a recognition of the centre of all things and a continuous daily ebb and flow, a journey towards that centre and then back out again into the adventures of life. Deo gratias.
Sunday, 3 March 2013
Whadda Weekend, Take 2!
I will stretch the definition of 'weekend' to include Friday evening, because that was the beginning of a new chapter in my life. I was beseeched not to show up at Red Phoenix Farm (aka 'the barn' or, 'the stable') until 7pm. I had a very hard time waiting until then, because Friday, March 1, 2013 was the day the lovely Lucera was to make the transition fully into my life.
When I arrived, the doors to the arena were closed. They are never usually shut unless a horse is 'at liberty' (aka running around loose) with a human handler... what was afoot? I was told to open the doors when ready... and there was Karen riding Lucera, my beautiful Andalusian dappled grey mare adorned with purple ribbons and flowers in her mane and tail - executing perfect 10 metre circles at in a beautifully balanced canter... a breathtaking sight. Lucera knew full well it was a special night, and as Rick and Jim started to flash their cameras in her direction, you could see her arch her neck and 'play' to the paparazzi, ever the diva! Karen dismounted and passed the reins to me, and my joy was complete - but wait! I was told to check out the locker room, only to find a 'riding' flamenco dress, with ruffles and sequins which was part of the Lucera 'package'! Karen had made the dress for Spanish Fiesta demonstrations, and was giving it to me! Gredi helped me to step into it, and the cameras flashed frenetically as I was assisted into the saddle (hey, mounting a horse with a flamenco dress on is tricky!). I had a brief, inagural ride as Lucera's new owner, then the fine vintage 1995 champagne flowed as we enjoyed a tack room party complete with smoked salmon, tapenade, crackers, cheese, and other delectables, courtesy of Jim! (Paperwork and cheques also exchanged hands, as is necessary with these transitions.) What a memorable evening to be ever etched in my heart. Lucera and I will become 'dance partners' as I learn her ways and she learns mine. It is truly the beginning of a journey!
Saturday was filled with a great riding lesson in the morning, baking, reading and a great 'Spring into Spring' Bluegrass concert with the Spinney Brothers and Bluegrass Tradition, in Windsor. I love the virtuosity of the instrument players as they emulated Earl Scruggs 'Rocky Mountain Breakdown'! How can one person's fingers pick a banjo so FAST? There is no sound like bluegrass music played with fully engaged heart and soul!
Sunday (today) was back to the barn, a terrific ride on Jacob, enjoying the 'fellowship of the horse' with my fellow horsewomen, back home for the afternoon reorganizing my office (with Rick's creative help) to accomodate my 'sewing station' and finally another ride this evening, on Lucera. It was another first, a ride alone in the arena with just the two of us connecting and listening to each other, trusting and bonding. I give myself permission to feel physically tired tonight, although my mind and soul are filled with such joy as not to be contained. Whadda weekend, indeed!
When I arrived, the doors to the arena were closed. They are never usually shut unless a horse is 'at liberty' (aka running around loose) with a human handler... what was afoot? I was told to open the doors when ready... and there was Karen riding Lucera, my beautiful Andalusian dappled grey mare adorned with purple ribbons and flowers in her mane and tail - executing perfect 10 metre circles at in a beautifully balanced canter... a breathtaking sight. Lucera knew full well it was a special night, and as Rick and Jim started to flash their cameras in her direction, you could see her arch her neck and 'play' to the paparazzi, ever the diva! Karen dismounted and passed the reins to me, and my joy was complete - but wait! I was told to check out the locker room, only to find a 'riding' flamenco dress, with ruffles and sequins which was part of the Lucera 'package'! Karen had made the dress for Spanish Fiesta demonstrations, and was giving it to me! Gredi helped me to step into it, and the cameras flashed frenetically as I was assisted into the saddle (hey, mounting a horse with a flamenco dress on is tricky!). I had a brief, inagural ride as Lucera's new owner, then the fine vintage 1995 champagne flowed as we enjoyed a tack room party complete with smoked salmon, tapenade, crackers, cheese, and other delectables, courtesy of Jim! (Paperwork and cheques also exchanged hands, as is necessary with these transitions.) What a memorable evening to be ever etched in my heart. Lucera and I will become 'dance partners' as I learn her ways and she learns mine. It is truly the beginning of a journey!
Saturday was filled with a great riding lesson in the morning, baking, reading and a great 'Spring into Spring' Bluegrass concert with the Spinney Brothers and Bluegrass Tradition, in Windsor. I love the virtuosity of the instrument players as they emulated Earl Scruggs 'Rocky Mountain Breakdown'! How can one person's fingers pick a banjo so FAST? There is no sound like bluegrass music played with fully engaged heart and soul!
Sunday (today) was back to the barn, a terrific ride on Jacob, enjoying the 'fellowship of the horse' with my fellow horsewomen, back home for the afternoon reorganizing my office (with Rick's creative help) to accomodate my 'sewing station' and finally another ride this evening, on Lucera. It was another first, a ride alone in the arena with just the two of us connecting and listening to each other, trusting and bonding. I give myself permission to feel physically tired tonight, although my mind and soul are filled with such joy as not to be contained. Whadda weekend, indeed!
Wednesday, 27 February 2013
The Gift of Sight
When I was about six years old, I was fitted with my first pair of glasses. My grade 1 teacher Miss Metivier alerted my parents, having suspected I needed them because I squinted at the board and had a challenge telling time on the big clock at the front of the classroom. She knew my challenge wasn't lack of intelligence, because otherwise I kept her pretty busy with my questions and volunteering in class and 'leading' the other children through challenging reading concepts. Those of you who know me well will recognize this 'directive' nature. I digress...
Imagine my utter delight when I first put on my new 'cats eye' glasses (it was 1963, after all, and I was always needing to be in the height of fashion)... there was the face of the clock in the doctor's office, as clear as anything! Blades of grass were separate, not blurred masses of green! And the most wonderous thing of all, the flame of a candle next to the altar at Mass was a slender light, not a glowing ball. It was weeks before I stopped pointing in wonder at things I had not seen clearly before.
Fast forward many years in a love/hate relationship with vision correction. I cannot count the number of 'new' prescriptions I have needed in my lifetime, as my inherited nearsightedness progressed (and continues to deteriorate), with old glasses dutifully sent to the missions in Africa who can reuse them. I am not eligible for surgical correction because my eyes are 'too bad' and success unlikely (my prescription is >-11 !) and I have had to forgo the use of contact lenses (used for a while in the early 2000s) due to the limitations of technology and the curse of aging (presbyopia, we call it). My best correction so far has been progressive trifocals, and yet the reading part is still a challenge, having to remove my glasses to see tiny print.
Until now! Glory Be! Yay! BIFOCAL contacts which also work with double, shifting astigmatisms... a MIRACLE! When the technician gave them to me yesterday, I wanted to yell, 'Free at last, free at last, praise God Almighty, I'm free at last!" Well, that is a bit melodramatic, but that is what I felt like. They work! Now I can:
1. Read without dragging my glasses down on my nose
2. Horseback ride without worrying about losing my glasses or having them steam up
3. Not go into a desperate panic if I knock my glasses onto the floor from my night table, having groped for them to check the time on the beside clock radio (panic... because if I can't find 'em, I am BLIND!)
And, best of all
4. Wear COOL sunglasses!
The shocker, though, is having to reconcile myself to the fact that aging + weight loss + no glasses = (even more evident) WRINKLES. Sigh. Oh well, they are honest wrinkles and I vow to hydrate them at least or camoflage them at best. Oh yes, did I mention Rick's delight when I began noticing the dust/cobwebs that adorn our old farmhouse (heretofore 'missed' due to imperfect vision) - maybe there are some downsides to seeing optimally. Lest those who live nearby worry, I could always see perfectly well to drive, ha! Seriously though. Take a moment to appreciate the astonishing gift that sight is. I can never take it for granted.
Imagine my utter delight when I first put on my new 'cats eye' glasses (it was 1963, after all, and I was always needing to be in the height of fashion)... there was the face of the clock in the doctor's office, as clear as anything! Blades of grass were separate, not blurred masses of green! And the most wonderous thing of all, the flame of a candle next to the altar at Mass was a slender light, not a glowing ball. It was weeks before I stopped pointing in wonder at things I had not seen clearly before.
Fast forward many years in a love/hate relationship with vision correction. I cannot count the number of 'new' prescriptions I have needed in my lifetime, as my inherited nearsightedness progressed (and continues to deteriorate), with old glasses dutifully sent to the missions in Africa who can reuse them. I am not eligible for surgical correction because my eyes are 'too bad' and success unlikely (my prescription is >-11 !) and I have had to forgo the use of contact lenses (used for a while in the early 2000s) due to the limitations of technology and the curse of aging (presbyopia, we call it). My best correction so far has been progressive trifocals, and yet the reading part is still a challenge, having to remove my glasses to see tiny print.
Until now! Glory Be! Yay! BIFOCAL contacts which also work with double, shifting astigmatisms... a MIRACLE! When the technician gave them to me yesterday, I wanted to yell, 'Free at last, free at last, praise God Almighty, I'm free at last!" Well, that is a bit melodramatic, but that is what I felt like. They work! Now I can:
1. Read without dragging my glasses down on my nose
2. Horseback ride without worrying about losing my glasses or having them steam up
3. Not go into a desperate panic if I knock my glasses onto the floor from my night table, having groped for them to check the time on the beside clock radio (panic... because if I can't find 'em, I am BLIND!)
And, best of all
4. Wear COOL sunglasses!
The shocker, though, is having to reconcile myself to the fact that aging + weight loss + no glasses = (even more evident) WRINKLES. Sigh. Oh well, they are honest wrinkles and I vow to hydrate them at least or camoflage them at best. Oh yes, did I mention Rick's delight when I began noticing the dust/cobwebs that adorn our old farmhouse (heretofore 'missed' due to imperfect vision) - maybe there are some downsides to seeing optimally. Lest those who live nearby worry, I could always see perfectly well to drive, ha! Seriously though. Take a moment to appreciate the astonishing gift that sight is. I can never take it for granted.
Monday, 25 February 2013
Fiery Sunset, Golden Moon
The barn doors at Red Phoenix Farm face due west, and at this time of the year, the sunset on a clear evening pours its fiery splendor over the shifting surface of the Avon River, as it flows into the Minas Basin in the Bay of Fundy. Tonight I puttered very happily at the barn chores, mixing feed, filling buckets and troughs, toting haybales, and watching the dear expectant faces of seven beautiful horses as they alerted to the rattle of their ration pails. As I brought the jaunty but polite (we insist on equine politeness!) mares into their stalls, the slanting sunlight lit up the main corridor of the barn and backlit the world outside in a preternatural way, as though the glory of heaven itself were bursting through the sky. By the time I was ready to begin Jacob's tacking up to ride, the colour and light had ebbed away, leaving a suspended moment of early gloaming between sunset and moon rise.
And what a moon rise! One of those strange, inexplicable times when our lunar companion appears large enough to swallow us whole, and there it was, behind the trees and rising over the hill behind the arena. Even the prosaic activity of scrubbing a slimy water trough was almost elevated to the sacremental by the presence of that full moon. The rapidly dropping temperature sharpened the deep blue of the evening sky which is only present now and in late fall... a blue so deep it must be God's favourite colour, saved for evenings like this one.
My ride was made the sweeter by Rick's presence (he even had a bit of a ride, too!) and he took pictures and video of Jacob and I doing our 'schooling exercises' at the walk/trot. This fine evening was made complete with a wonderful 'lunge' session with Lucera attending to my voice requests and showing her beautifully cadenced trot and 'full moon' canter! Her movement takes my breath away, as I realize that in four days she will be my responsibility, and I hers. As I departed from the barn this evening, I stood in the bright darkeness for several moments, savouring the stillness. As I watched Lucera's dappled grey shape move along the fenceline, she stopped briefly to watch me, watching her. The line from Leonard Cohen's 'Hallelujah' struck me full force: "Her beauty, and the moonlight, overthrew you'... Ah, life is made for such moments. Life in the peaceable kingdom.
And what a moon rise! One of those strange, inexplicable times when our lunar companion appears large enough to swallow us whole, and there it was, behind the trees and rising over the hill behind the arena. Even the prosaic activity of scrubbing a slimy water trough was almost elevated to the sacremental by the presence of that full moon. The rapidly dropping temperature sharpened the deep blue of the evening sky which is only present now and in late fall... a blue so deep it must be God's favourite colour, saved for evenings like this one.
My ride was made the sweeter by Rick's presence (he even had a bit of a ride, too!) and he took pictures and video of Jacob and I doing our 'schooling exercises' at the walk/trot. This fine evening was made complete with a wonderful 'lunge' session with Lucera attending to my voice requests and showing her beautifully cadenced trot and 'full moon' canter! Her movement takes my breath away, as I realize that in four days she will be my responsibility, and I hers. As I departed from the barn this evening, I stood in the bright darkeness for several moments, savouring the stillness. As I watched Lucera's dappled grey shape move along the fenceline, she stopped briefly to watch me, watching her. The line from Leonard Cohen's 'Hallelujah' struck me full force: "Her beauty, and the moonlight, overthrew you'... Ah, life is made for such moments. Life in the peaceable kingdom.
Sunday, 24 February 2013
Whatta Weekend!
One is reminded of the Dowager Countess Grantham's question in Season 1 of Downton Abbey: "What is a 'week-end?'" Well, Aunt Violet, a weekend is the most marvellous of institutions for us working girls and boys fortunate enough to rub two days in a row together for pursuits of one's own choosing, for the most part. And this one in particular was whirlwind indeed!
Beginning with a great ride on my American Cream/ Clydesdale cross gelding Jacob, witnessing an amazing 'farewell ride' by my mentor Karen on Lucera, the arena at Red Phoenix Farm in Summerville NS was the stage for a large measure of my 'weekend' joy! Saturday also saw Rick and I join with two Summervillein friends to raise > $2000 for the Ark, a Halifax centre for homeless and street involved youth, as part of the 'Coldest Night of the Year' national fundraising event for similar shelters across Canada. It was perfect, clear, brisk early evening along Highway 215 on the Hants Shore, and the Hants Shore Ramblers, complete with yellow theme toques, reflective vests, and a boom box blaring out an eclectic playlist (Burton Cummings/ House of Doc/ Leonard Cohen) completed a 5 km 'there and back' walk. Amused motorists waved, and we received a spontaneous donation of $5 from a bystander after they learned the purpose of our outing. Canine accompanyment by Cleo and Gideon (Giddy) completed our crew.
This event was closely followed by wolfing down a veggie stew supper I had prepared in advance, because we were then off to Play What You Can, a kind of kitchen party where you make a pitch for a song well in advance, everyone rehearses the playlist at home, then the 'get together' sounds tolerable indeed! My favourite part - it is intergenerational, with teens, young children and us 'older folk' taking the mike and banging on bodhrans, strumming guitars or playing spoons at various times. Epic! Songs from Sting to Fun to Cat Stevens and all points in between. All aided by Blackberry tablet technology projected on the wall for chords and lyrics from preselected websites. Terra and Andrew's hospitality is nonparailed. Can't wait 'til the next PWYC!
Sunday was back to the barn for another ride with Jacob, and a visit in the paddock with Lucera. We are beginning the bonding process which is so important for equine/human communication and respect. She is an amazing Andalusian mare who will 'officially' be mine or rather I hers, as of this coming Friday, DV. And our son Mark came for a visit, sharing our prime rib roast dinner, and good ol' chat, to round out the joy of these two days. Bliss.
Beginning with a great ride on my American Cream/ Clydesdale cross gelding Jacob, witnessing an amazing 'farewell ride' by my mentor Karen on Lucera, the arena at Red Phoenix Farm in Summerville NS was the stage for a large measure of my 'weekend' joy! Saturday also saw Rick and I join with two Summervillein friends to raise > $2000 for the Ark, a Halifax centre for homeless and street involved youth, as part of the 'Coldest Night of the Year' national fundraising event for similar shelters across Canada. It was perfect, clear, brisk early evening along Highway 215 on the Hants Shore, and the Hants Shore Ramblers, complete with yellow theme toques, reflective vests, and a boom box blaring out an eclectic playlist (Burton Cummings/ House of Doc/ Leonard Cohen) completed a 5 km 'there and back' walk. Amused motorists waved, and we received a spontaneous donation of $5 from a bystander after they learned the purpose of our outing. Canine accompanyment by Cleo and Gideon (Giddy) completed our crew.
This event was closely followed by wolfing down a veggie stew supper I had prepared in advance, because we were then off to Play What You Can, a kind of kitchen party where you make a pitch for a song well in advance, everyone rehearses the playlist at home, then the 'get together' sounds tolerable indeed! My favourite part - it is intergenerational, with teens, young children and us 'older folk' taking the mike and banging on bodhrans, strumming guitars or playing spoons at various times. Epic! Songs from Sting to Fun to Cat Stevens and all points in between. All aided by Blackberry tablet technology projected on the wall for chords and lyrics from preselected websites. Terra and Andrew's hospitality is nonparailed. Can't wait 'til the next PWYC!
Sunday was back to the barn for another ride with Jacob, and a visit in the paddock with Lucera. We are beginning the bonding process which is so important for equine/human communication and respect. She is an amazing Andalusian mare who will 'officially' be mine or rather I hers, as of this coming Friday, DV. And our son Mark came for a visit, sharing our prime rib roast dinner, and good ol' chat, to round out the joy of these two days. Bliss.
Friday, 22 February 2013
What is Old is New Again
I sat down in front of my new sewing machine at the dealer's shop. The shop owner held me in her thrall for an hour and a half, as I negotiated the 'new world' of a sewing machine with a computer 'brain' and Swedish engineering (Husqvara Viking - who knew they made more than chainsaws?). It has been at least 15 years since I used a sewing machine, but mind you I was 'pretty good' at sewing way back when. I was ok, then, with the jargon like 'feed dog', 'presser foot' and 'bobbin winder'...
In the early 1990's, in an effort to contribute to the family economy while briefly flirting with the concept of being a 'stay at home mum', I established my own business: "The Last Remake", using repurposed (we call it 'upcycling' now) fabric, leather, fur and buttons to fashion 'one of a kind' hats, which I then sold at the Halifax Farmer's Market. The hats were very popular and helped me to contribute to our family's economy with at least the weekly grocery money for two years running. My dad started me out by generously paid for a brand new Kenmore sewing machine that I almost wore out, particularly since ripping apart velvet, wool coat material and brocade lofted much lint into the air, and the machine (and my lungs, another story!). In any case, my creative needs were well exercised and I had lots of fun being a vendor at the market... which could be the topic of a whole other batch of stories!
Back to my current adventure... I was BLOWN AWAY by what a mid-range machine can now do! There is a large screen with a computerized 'sewing advisor' which automatically sets stitch length, tension, advises on which foot, needle type, etc for optimum success. Look out world! My intent is to refashion old clothes, etc into funky aprons, bags, art and other projects, to sell for funds for charity. It is also selfish... I have a deep seated need to CREATE and this gives me a foolish measure of delight! I have a pile of 'stuff' from the second hand shops to upcycle, thank you Pinterest, and the internet and all the artists out there... I could be at this for many years! Oh yes, I sent away for, and received, pattern to make Jacob a 'medieval barding'... a.k.a the costume a knight's horse would wear. I can also use the pattern to design our very own heraldic crest to applique on the rump cover and breast plate. Very practical uses for my new machine, right? In the mean time, hmmm, I did promise Rick to hem his dress pants.... wheeeee, there is a 'blind hem' app! And I was shown how to use it. Ahhhh, technology. I LOVE IT!
In the early 1990's, in an effort to contribute to the family economy while briefly flirting with the concept of being a 'stay at home mum', I established my own business: "The Last Remake", using repurposed (we call it 'upcycling' now) fabric, leather, fur and buttons to fashion 'one of a kind' hats, which I then sold at the Halifax Farmer's Market. The hats were very popular and helped me to contribute to our family's economy with at least the weekly grocery money for two years running. My dad started me out by generously paid for a brand new Kenmore sewing machine that I almost wore out, particularly since ripping apart velvet, wool coat material and brocade lofted much lint into the air, and the machine (and my lungs, another story!). In any case, my creative needs were well exercised and I had lots of fun being a vendor at the market... which could be the topic of a whole other batch of stories!
Back to my current adventure... I was BLOWN AWAY by what a mid-range machine can now do! There is a large screen with a computerized 'sewing advisor' which automatically sets stitch length, tension, advises on which foot, needle type, etc for optimum success. Look out world! My intent is to refashion old clothes, etc into funky aprons, bags, art and other projects, to sell for funds for charity. It is also selfish... I have a deep seated need to CREATE and this gives me a foolish measure of delight! I have a pile of 'stuff' from the second hand shops to upcycle, thank you Pinterest, and the internet and all the artists out there... I could be at this for many years! Oh yes, I sent away for, and received, pattern to make Jacob a 'medieval barding'... a.k.a the costume a knight's horse would wear. I can also use the pattern to design our very own heraldic crest to applique on the rump cover and breast plate. Very practical uses for my new machine, right? In the mean time, hmmm, I did promise Rick to hem his dress pants.... wheeeee, there is a 'blind hem' app! And I was shown how to use it. Ahhhh, technology. I LOVE IT!
Thursday, 21 February 2013
The Produce Section: A Conundrum of Conscience
Ever stand in the middle of a beautifully arranged produce section in a large supermarket/ grocery store and ponder the organization, technology and politics that went into the carefully arranged stacks of fruit and veggies, from the common to the exotic? Think of the supply chain of planes, trains, trucks and perhaps automobiles that brought this very perishable food to your fingertips, just waiting to be secondarily plucked and finally reach its destiny as nutrition for the cells of your body? Hmmm...
I fret when I read the tiny sticker on the apple that says ' 'Product of Chile' - when in fact we are smack in the middle of a major apple producing region, with access to nitrogen storage technology. Why is it cheaper to ship that apple from Chile than Kentville, in the heart of the Annapolis Valley just 45 minutes away by truck? The answers are complex and feel as though the consumer is taken out of the equation rather than the reason the equation appears to 'add up'... to a global source rather than a local one.
I must confess it all presents a conundrum for my conscience. I dearly want to 'buy local' and support my farmer friends, but I also love canteloupe and strawberries in February, the convenience and quality of frozen mango chunks and who doesn't love/ couldn't live without/ bananas? Perhaps the answer is to make fruit and veggies the mainstay of all our diets and eschew the processed, packaged, salted, sweetened, fat filled stuff... then we can more robustly support our local farmers AND farmers around the world.... who also deserve to be able to make a living. I resolve to read more on the issue; in the meantime, this bowl of fresh oranges, South African black grapes, grapefruit, kiwi, strawberries, pineapple, blueberries, canary melon and canteloupe tastes mighty good. Somehow this international bowl has come together from the four corners of my home planet to bring me a wallop of healthy eating. I will, in the space between my conundrum and my conscience, enjoy every last drop of goodness. The apples from my Valley farmer friend are worthy to stand alone in an apple crisp... that is tomorrow's project. Giving thanks for our food producers far and near.
I fret when I read the tiny sticker on the apple that says ' 'Product of Chile' - when in fact we are smack in the middle of a major apple producing region, with access to nitrogen storage technology. Why is it cheaper to ship that apple from Chile than Kentville, in the heart of the Annapolis Valley just 45 minutes away by truck? The answers are complex and feel as though the consumer is taken out of the equation rather than the reason the equation appears to 'add up'... to a global source rather than a local one.
I must confess it all presents a conundrum for my conscience. I dearly want to 'buy local' and support my farmer friends, but I also love canteloupe and strawberries in February, the convenience and quality of frozen mango chunks and who doesn't love/ couldn't live without/ bananas? Perhaps the answer is to make fruit and veggies the mainstay of all our diets and eschew the processed, packaged, salted, sweetened, fat filled stuff... then we can more robustly support our local farmers AND farmers around the world.... who also deserve to be able to make a living. I resolve to read more on the issue; in the meantime, this bowl of fresh oranges, South African black grapes, grapefruit, kiwi, strawberries, pineapple, blueberries, canary melon and canteloupe tastes mighty good. Somehow this international bowl has come together from the four corners of my home planet to bring me a wallop of healthy eating. I will, in the space between my conundrum and my conscience, enjoy every last drop of goodness. The apples from my Valley farmer friend are worthy to stand alone in an apple crisp... that is tomorrow's project. Giving thanks for our food producers far and near.
Wednesday, 20 February 2013
Lambing and Spinach
Whew, what an interesting life I lead, never a dull moment! Last night I was kindly given the 'heads up' that my farmer friend, Rupert, was attending to the lambing of one of his ewes. Now you need to understand that I had asked to be alerted because I am fascinated by the whole process, and who can resist newborn lambs for sheer cuteness? I got the call just as I was about to ride Jacob, who was all saddled up and rarin' to 'giddyup go'! I decided to have a brief schooling session with my big golden gelding (he was great) and then get over to Rupert's (literally next door). Lo and behold, mamma sheep had produced twins and was performing the maternal 'washing' of the second lamb, while Number One nursed vigorously. Rupert remarked how the ewes had produced three sets of twins already... let me tell you, the two week old twin black sheep are the epitome of adorableness (is that a word?)
It does give me pause that the 'ram lambs' will become sides of lamb in the freezer, while the ewe lambs will augment the flock in their maturity. These sheep are treated with the best of care, and their lives are as good as a domestic sheep's can be. Rupert farms organically, and Rick and I have enjoyed the raspberries, blueberries and lamb he produces. The best yet, though, is the fact I can drive to the farm door and be handed fresh, fresh, fresh spinach, tatsoi and curly lettuce in mid February, all organically grown in the greenhouses. I know every cell of my body rejoices in the healthy food I can enjoy. What an incredible blessing! Please take a moment to think of the very hard work our farmers do to feed us, especially our local farmers who are dedicated to their craft!
It does give me pause that the 'ram lambs' will become sides of lamb in the freezer, while the ewe lambs will augment the flock in their maturity. These sheep are treated with the best of care, and their lives are as good as a domestic sheep's can be. Rupert farms organically, and Rick and I have enjoyed the raspberries, blueberries and lamb he produces. The best yet, though, is the fact I can drive to the farm door and be handed fresh, fresh, fresh spinach, tatsoi and curly lettuce in mid February, all organically grown in the greenhouses. I know every cell of my body rejoices in the healthy food I can enjoy. What an incredible blessing! Please take a moment to think of the very hard work our farmers do to feed us, especially our local farmers who are dedicated to their craft!
Monday, 18 February 2013
Delicious Tiredness
I call the feeling I get when, at the end of the day, I am physically spent from 'useful' physical exertion - 'delicious tiredness', because I know I have a a teapot full of King Cole tea steeping on the woodstove, a warm house, and a comfortable bed in which I can experience restorative sleep. Best of all, I have a wonderful life partner willing to listen to my latest trilling about riding Jacob and/or Lucera.
The physical exertion of mucking out stalls, pushing a wheelbarrow down the long side of the arena to the manure pile, wrestling a hose back onto its reel, and toting hay bales makes me feel strong and capable. Any friend or family member is welcome to pinch my 'pipes' (aka biceps) to verify their advancing state of firmness!
For the very first time in my life, I might warrant the description 'wiry'... imagine that! I have defined muscles from barn work, not a gym, and it feels damn good, I must say! Not to mention the sculpting effect of riding Jacob or ground driving/training him in the deep sand of the arena. I highly recommend this type of conditioning, fun, useful and gratifying! Lest I come of here as bragging, I want to submit thanks to the God of the universe for gracing me with the chance to experience all these wonders.
Tonight the high wind was causing the clouds to scud very fast across the night sky, alternately obscuring and revealing stars and a half moon which shone so brightly there was no need for a flashlight on my way to the car. Even the dead of winter brings its own wild beauty, and the little signs of impending spring have already begun, like shedding horses and longer hours of daylight. For now I am deliciously tired and bed is calling me as quiet descends upon this old farmhouse in rural Nova Scotia.
The physical exertion of mucking out stalls, pushing a wheelbarrow down the long side of the arena to the manure pile, wrestling a hose back onto its reel, and toting hay bales makes me feel strong and capable. Any friend or family member is welcome to pinch my 'pipes' (aka biceps) to verify their advancing state of firmness!
For the very first time in my life, I might warrant the description 'wiry'... imagine that! I have defined muscles from barn work, not a gym, and it feels damn good, I must say! Not to mention the sculpting effect of riding Jacob or ground driving/training him in the deep sand of the arena. I highly recommend this type of conditioning, fun, useful and gratifying! Lest I come of here as bragging, I want to submit thanks to the God of the universe for gracing me with the chance to experience all these wonders.
Tonight the high wind was causing the clouds to scud very fast across the night sky, alternately obscuring and revealing stars and a half moon which shone so brightly there was no need for a flashlight on my way to the car. Even the dead of winter brings its own wild beauty, and the little signs of impending spring have already begun, like shedding horses and longer hours of daylight. For now I am deliciously tired and bed is calling me as quiet descends upon this old farmhouse in rural Nova Scotia.
Sunday, 17 February 2013
The Womens' Institute
I remember the time all I knew about the Womens' Institute was:
1. My mother-in-law had belonged to the WI at one point
2. The movie 'Calendar Girls' involved the WI 'ladies' proving it was not only about 'jam and Jerusalem' (the latter being the hymn/theme song of WI in Britain).
Now, as a fully functioning member of the Hants Shore branch of the WI I can proudly say it is indeed much more! We are celebrating the 100 years of the founding of the Womens' Institute, and the benefit to rural woment the world over (we are affliated with the ACWW, the Associated Country Women of the World) is immeasurable. I will not go into great detail here, but the fun, learning and camaradarie of the WI are strong reasons to belong! We had our open house at Centre Burlington Hall this afternoon, and despite the rain and low community attendance, there was a party atmosphere as we all met new friends, chatted and indulged in treats... and got to bring home a variety plate each, ha!
There is something vital, strong and deeply satisfying about hearing the stories of so many interesting women and their families, who live in a small radius of community here on the Hants Shore. Such willingness of spirit, hunger for connection, and impressive abilities - intellectual, organizational and domestic. I am delighted to be a part of it all, from young mums with babes in arms to those of us enjoying grandma hood or hoping to one day.
Oh yes! I had a great ride on Jacob this morning, and groomed Lucera thoroughly, singing 'Getting to Know You!'. My cup runneth over...
1. My mother-in-law had belonged to the WI at one point
2. The movie 'Calendar Girls' involved the WI 'ladies' proving it was not only about 'jam and Jerusalem' (the latter being the hymn/theme song of WI in Britain).
Now, as a fully functioning member of the Hants Shore branch of the WI I can proudly say it is indeed much more! We are celebrating the 100 years of the founding of the Womens' Institute, and the benefit to rural woment the world over (we are affliated with the ACWW, the Associated Country Women of the World) is immeasurable. I will not go into great detail here, but the fun, learning and camaradarie of the WI are strong reasons to belong! We had our open house at Centre Burlington Hall this afternoon, and despite the rain and low community attendance, there was a party atmosphere as we all met new friends, chatted and indulged in treats... and got to bring home a variety plate each, ha!
There is something vital, strong and deeply satisfying about hearing the stories of so many interesting women and their families, who live in a small radius of community here on the Hants Shore. Such willingness of spirit, hunger for connection, and impressive abilities - intellectual, organizational and domestic. I am delighted to be a part of it all, from young mums with babes in arms to those of us enjoying grandma hood or hoping to one day.
Oh yes! I had a great ride on Jacob this morning, and groomed Lucera thoroughly, singing 'Getting to Know You!'. My cup runneth over...
Saturday, 16 February 2013
Sorting Buttons
A most interesting day. Meeting new friends and hearing their 'stories' is one of the great joys in life, especially when there is a particular connection of the spirit (as Anne Shirley would say 'kindred' spirits). I loved preparing for the visit, cooking soup, biscuits and fruit crisp from scratch, and basking in the sun that temporarily shone through the kitchen window.
A few weeks ago I had posted a notice in the local postoffice asking the community to donate 'recycleable' craft items: fabric, yarn, old buttons, leather coats that could be cut up, so that I can begin (or restart) a passion for making new things from old, with a view to selling them for cash to donate to local charitable causes. Lo and behold, while we were eating lunch with our new friends a neighbour from around the corner came to the door with a large coffee can full of old buttons. She said they were from her mother-in-law's home and they had been 'laying around' forever and thought I might like them for my project. I was so delighted and thanked her profusely, setting the can aside until I had the chance to take a good look.
Following our lunch, a good old chat, and a brief tour of Red Phoenix Farm (the stable/arena were my horses live, up the road) our friends were on their way. Following clean up, I grabbed the button can and uncovered delightful treasures... brass buttons, crystal buttons, huge old buttons (Bakelite?) tiny pearl buttons... I found myself grabbing several mason jars and sorting the buttons by colour: a jar for black, one for white/ivory, one grey, one for pink/burgundy/orange, one for yellow (yes, enough for their own jar), one for brown, one for brass/metal buttons and finally blue/green/purple mixed together. I left a number of buttons on their old cardboard backing (24 buttons for 25 cents!). The jars now line the shelf above what will be my 'crafting/sewing' table in my office. The point of all this is to comment on how incredible the meditative action of sorting buttons was... it was as though my brain were making effortless connections to each colour, sometimes needing to decide if a given button warranted the grey jar or if indeed there was a tinge of blue... why was I compelled to sort, sort, sort for an hour and a half...?
Rick pointed out that 'you are a classification specialist, after all'... and it hit me how part of my brain must be hard wired to be compelled to sort things into categories (I am a classification specialist in the International Classification of Diseases, Tenth Edition, Canadian version (ICD-10-CA) and the companion classification for surgery and health interventions - the Canadian Classification of Health Interventions (CCI)). Whatever the reason, when I had arranged these mason jars full of sorted buttons in a row it gave me inexplicable peace, as though I had sorted out some great mystery in my life. Funny, isn't it, how a random convergence of simple acts (sharing buttons) and intent (to make something 'useful/artful' to sell) can take the mind into philosphical realms. I will make peace with that part of 'myself' which seeks to find peace in the mental (and physical) act of categorizing, sorting and wrapping into neat bundles (or jars)... but not let it inhibit taking joy in the seridipitous moments of life which defy classification.
A few weeks ago I had posted a notice in the local postoffice asking the community to donate 'recycleable' craft items: fabric, yarn, old buttons, leather coats that could be cut up, so that I can begin (or restart) a passion for making new things from old, with a view to selling them for cash to donate to local charitable causes. Lo and behold, while we were eating lunch with our new friends a neighbour from around the corner came to the door with a large coffee can full of old buttons. She said they were from her mother-in-law's home and they had been 'laying around' forever and thought I might like them for my project. I was so delighted and thanked her profusely, setting the can aside until I had the chance to take a good look.
Following our lunch, a good old chat, and a brief tour of Red Phoenix Farm (the stable/arena were my horses live, up the road) our friends were on their way. Following clean up, I grabbed the button can and uncovered delightful treasures... brass buttons, crystal buttons, huge old buttons (Bakelite?) tiny pearl buttons... I found myself grabbing several mason jars and sorting the buttons by colour: a jar for black, one for white/ivory, one grey, one for pink/burgundy/orange, one for yellow (yes, enough for their own jar), one for brown, one for brass/metal buttons and finally blue/green/purple mixed together. I left a number of buttons on their old cardboard backing (24 buttons for 25 cents!). The jars now line the shelf above what will be my 'crafting/sewing' table in my office. The point of all this is to comment on how incredible the meditative action of sorting buttons was... it was as though my brain were making effortless connections to each colour, sometimes needing to decide if a given button warranted the grey jar or if indeed there was a tinge of blue... why was I compelled to sort, sort, sort for an hour and a half...?
Rick pointed out that 'you are a classification specialist, after all'... and it hit me how part of my brain must be hard wired to be compelled to sort things into categories (I am a classification specialist in the International Classification of Diseases, Tenth Edition, Canadian version (ICD-10-CA) and the companion classification for surgery and health interventions - the Canadian Classification of Health Interventions (CCI)). Whatever the reason, when I had arranged these mason jars full of sorted buttons in a row it gave me inexplicable peace, as though I had sorted out some great mystery in my life. Funny, isn't it, how a random convergence of simple acts (sharing buttons) and intent (to make something 'useful/artful' to sell) can take the mind into philosphical realms. I will make peace with that part of 'myself' which seeks to find peace in the mental (and physical) act of categorizing, sorting and wrapping into neat bundles (or jars)... but not let it inhibit taking joy in the seridipitous moments of life which defy classification.
Friday, 15 February 2013
When Dreams Arrive in Flesh and Blood
Today has been a very auspicious day. It is a humbling thing to be taught new skills by a horse who knows more than I do. As I groomed and saddled Lucera, the dappled grey Spanish Andalusian mare who is about to become my other equine partner, I marvelled at the unexpected gifts that arrive in my life, like pearls of great price. Every day, the beauty of nature surrounds me and gives me delight, the animals that share my life bring joy and life with Rick is a source of great peace and an anchor to this wild gypsy horsewoman.
My lesson on Lucera tonight was amazing. I am learning the discipline of riding each and every stride, to feel the power of sitting deeply within a perfectly cadenced trot - and that circles are meant to be round (more on that one another day!) I am so gratified by the delight of my fellow equestriennes at learning that Lucera is going to be 'mine' (rather, she is allowing me to be hers!). Now to learn the fine art of juggling it all in the space of the finite hours and energy we are allotted...
My lesson on Lucera tonight was amazing. I am learning the discipline of riding each and every stride, to feel the power of sitting deeply within a perfectly cadenced trot - and that circles are meant to be round (more on that one another day!) I am so gratified by the delight of my fellow equestriennes at learning that Lucera is going to be 'mine' (rather, she is allowing me to be hers!). Now to learn the fine art of juggling it all in the space of the finite hours and energy we are allotted...
Thursday, 14 February 2013
Hello Again, World!
Valentine's Day 2013
Returning to the world of blogging, because the world itself is a fascinating, unpredictable, joyous place, and I have many observations to share. My friends and family will need to have their forgiving natures in place when I post unending drivel about horses, or nature or the power of the Bay of Fundy. I write what I experience. I write what makes up my jocund life. It is late, more tomorrow.
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