Down the Long Lane Helping Women Write
The horses heal me when I breathe with them and by the site of their sheer beauty and grace of movement.
Nature, from sunsets to spring blossoms bring me joy and laughter.
As I heal this neglected and bruised land, feeling the earth between my fingers, cleaning out the junk strewn across it for decades, nourishing it with horse manure, I too am healed.
I love watching my horses roll. When I let the horses out in the morning, Charlie, the bay colt throws his head up, shakes his sleepy sand-filled eyes awake, bucks and rears, twisting toward the two chestnut mares, Sonia and Maggie, who dance and prance in the crisp morning air.
Where we left off…
After Losing Sonia Charlie needed a friend. We were lucky to find two senior OTTB (off-track Thoroughbred) horses to rescue and bring home (see Charlie Needs a Friend Part I). I hoped they’d soon accept our farm down the long lane as their new home. It takes time to build trust and many things can go wrong after adopting two hot-blooded horses. They could try to run away.
A herd that had once numbered seven had dwindled to one. Now alone, Charlie grieved deeply. Every horse needs a herd. One horse can’t be a herd.
Losing my horse Sonia last October really tore me up. But it was a lot harder on our horse Charlie—now he’s all alone. He needed a new family.
It’s Halloween, and it’s snowing for the second time this week and this time, it’s easily five inches. I’m not complaining. I know Denver has already had feet of snow and bit of shoveling is certainly better than all the fires the folks are having to deal with in California, but I do feel bad for the Leaf River kids trick-or-treating in the windy twenty-degree weather tonight.
After our rainy summer and a busy harvest season, I’m mentally ready for winter…but our farm is not.
On Sunday, I knew it was time to let go of my sweet mare Sonia.
I had lived with her and she with me since the day she was born 28 years ago on our ranch in the high desert of California. A few years later, Charlie was born at our place in Utah.
I’m redesigning my entire website, refocusing it on what I love to do and to write about: HORSES.
Don’t panic if you’re not a horse person. I’m hoping to find a community of people (or perhaps gather a new one) who just loves horses. You won’t need to know anything about horses to enjoy it. It’s not about “how to” but rather “why I love my life.”
In my future blogs, I’ll be talking about what it takes to care for horses and why the joy I experience is worth all the work.
The rain has been spitting and threatening all day, but not much had fallen since the inch we got yesterday. The sun came out for a bit this afternoon, so I took Max for a walk up the lane. By the time we strolled up the second hill, the wind kicked out and rain that felt almost frozen started hitting me in the face.
I love watching my horses roll. When I let the horses out in the morning, Charlie, the bay colt throws his head up, shakes his sleepy sand-filled eyes awake, bucks and rears, twisting toward the two chestnut mares, Sonia and Maggie, who dance and prance in the crisp morning air.
Where we left off…
After Losing Sonia Charlie needed a friend. We were lucky to find two senior OTTB (off-track Thoroughbred) horses to rescue and bring home (see Charlie Needs a Friend Part I). I hoped they’d soon accept our farm down the long lane as their new home. It takes time to build trust and many things can go wrong after adopting two hot-blooded horses. They could try to run away.
A herd that had once numbered seven had dwindled to one. Now alone, Charlie grieved deeply. Every horse needs a herd. One horse can’t be a herd.
Losing my horse Sonia last October really tore me up. But it was a lot harder on our horse Charlie—now he’s all alone. He needed a new family.
It’s Halloween, and it’s snowing for the second time this week and this time, it’s easily five inches. I’m not complaining. I know Denver has already had feet of snow and bit of shoveling is certainly better than all the fires the folks are having to deal with in California, but I do feel bad for the Leaf River kids trick-or-treating in the windy twenty-degree weather tonight.
After our rainy summer and a busy harvest season, I’m mentally ready for winter…but our farm is not.
On Sunday, I knew it was time to let go of my sweet mare Sonia.
I had lived with her and she with me since the day she was born 28 years ago on our ranch in the high desert of California. A few years later, Charlie was born at our place in Utah.
I’m redesigning my entire website, refocusing it on what I love to do and to write about: HORSES.
Don’t panic if you’re not a horse person. I’m hoping to find a community of people (or perhaps gather a new one) who just loves horses. You won’t need to know anything about horses to enjoy it. It’s not about “how to” but rather “why I love my life.”
In my future blogs, I’ll be talking about what it takes to care for horses and why the joy I experience is worth all the work.
The rain has been spitting and threatening all day, but not much had fallen since the inch we got yesterday. The sun came out for a bit this afternoon, so I took Max for a walk up the lane. By the time we strolled up the second hill, the wind kicked out and rain that felt almost frozen started hitting me in the face.
