By now, two days after the solar eclipse, I have seen so many gorgeous photos on FaceBook, TV and the Internet, I am feeling total syzygy. That’s a new word for me. I like it. Syzygy…the alignment of three celestial objects.
May I please be a celestial object?
I have some photographer friends who went to great lengths to make exquisite documentations of the solar eclipse. Their imagery is breathtaking. Their preparation, noteworthy. Their dedication, admirable.
Me…on the other hand? I was mostly in it for the picnic lunch date on top of my favorite nearby mountain. Recluse Man and I hadn’t even bothered to round up some Eclipse 2017 glasses. We just wanted ‘the experience.’ While making lunch I thought; well what the heck, maybe I can get some kind of depiction of the eclipse. We were not in the ‘total’ zone but not that far away either.
I packed my cameras and tripod with lunch. This favorite mountain of mine has a bald top and is truly stunning with a 360º perspective on the world below. Very quiet up there. Very solitary. Very magical. In maybe a dozen visits, I have only encountered a young couple once at daybreak and they skedaddled in such a hurry when I showed up it made me wonder. Am I that scary with yesterday’s clothes and bed-head-hair? or…hmmm…what were they up to?
When we arrived, after passing through three gates and navigating some very rough terrain to drive to the top, (I usually hike the last steep stretch), much to my horror there were ten ATVs and a truck parked at the very spot I thought of as mine-all-mine. Sheeeeit. Music blasting. People everywhere. Not a private spot around.
I scouted a good rock and proceeded to boss Recluse Man around since he would be doing the actual shooting. “Get a great silhouette…are my hands reaching for the sun? DON”T LOOK AT THE SUN!…LOOK AT THE ROCK!…got it?…lemme see!”…and on and on as we passed the camera back and forth so I could check exposures and composition.
It got a little dark. Like a thunder cloud had passed overhead. I looked for nocturnal animals to rise from their daybeds. Nothing. I looked to my dogs to see if they would howl at the moon. Nothing. I looked at my skin waiting for goosebumps. Nothing.
Then I checked my watch. Two minutes after the full effect of the eclipse had passed. It would have been a letdown had I not been so into making photos. Oh wait a minute. Recluse Man was the one making photos…I was just posing like a bossy diva in baggy shorts. Is there such a thing?
We had our lunch afterward as the ATVs rambled around. It was anything but a sexy lunch date. I had a commitment in Virginia so we didn’t stay long, and of course the ATVs pulled out right as we did.
I got home about 8pm eclipse night and looked at the photos. Big yawn. Small Diet Coke. Wake up. Engage brain hidden behind penumbra.
And then it got crazy. Goosebump crazy. I started messing around and didn’t stop messing until 1am. Unheard of…that kind of bedtime for a farm chick. Could blame it on the Diet Coke but I was having a Celestial Experience of my very own making. I was orbiting in galactic adventures having stellar vibes and feeling COSMIC BABY COSMIC!!! Do you read me? OVER!
For the inquisitive technical minds, I started with my RAW images and either moved the temperature slider all the way blue or yellow, depending on what I had in mind. I adjusted the exposure and blacks and shadows to mostly get a silhouette, which made it easy to keep as much solar definition as I could. I’d open the image in Photoshop to tweak local areas, and then for many of the following I used textured backgrounds in ON1, or vignettes, cross-processing, glows and grunge filters; a whole variety of effects, either in ON1, Photoshop or Nik filters.
Often, as you will see, I tried different effects on the same image and had a tough time deciding which version I liked best. You decide.
At times I was breathless. Seriously. Totally. My brain felt eclipsed.
I can’t wait till 2024. Surely Recluse Man and I will have our eclipse glasses by then. Can’t forget the pig, the dogs, the horses…can forget the cats for sure…lazy critters snoozing all day. Might have a unicorn by then. Better get on it.
Funny. Every time I send a text message or email to my beloved saying something profound like; ‘Hey baby…taking a break from wacking…where you be?’ or; ‘Vibing so bad from 3 hours of wacking…pick up some munchies?’ … auto-spell kicks in and turns wacking into ‘whacky’ or ‘walking’ or ‘waking’…when I just wanna say WACKING. It makes me even more WACKED OUT than I already am.
Now to be perfectly clear (as some perfectly murky politicians might say), to be whacked-out is similar (take definition #1 below for example), but certainly not the same. As defined by Merriam Webster;
Now I maybe, might have, possibly, been all three of those definitions of whacked out in the course of my lifetime, but to be WACKED OUT involves and solely derives from using a Weed Wacker.
Since I cannot find an appropriate written definition, let me provide you with a visual definition.
This farm chick is Wacked Out…
…I mean really Wacked Out…(auto spell just corrected to ‘wicked’ out…now that’s a new one!)
Don’t mess with this Wacked Out mess….
Wacked Out at ground level…Occasionally Wacked Out accidents happen…
…that will make a mess of one’s Wacked Out pants…
…and then you might see Recluse Man cruising by ever so cooly on his tractor…
…and in that Wacked Out frame of mind you just might want to bend that thumb of his upside down and WACK IT.Catch my drift?
Several days before I left for my bum-thumb-fated trip to Pennsylvania, we celebrated the Pip’s second birthday. It was sooo much fun! We invited some neighborhood friends, and kids, and parents, and a very special grandma, to join us for the festivities.
I had every intention of posting some great photos when I returned from my Fourth of July trip. It’s just that my dumb-broken-thumb got in the way. But now? I see it as a way to relive a magical afternoon. Every time I think of that afternoon, it makes me smile.
There were so many delightful photos, I had a hard time choosing. What follows, reminds me of a family album. I gotta admit…I’ve gone dizzy looking at some family albums. To the point of asking where the bathroom is…then asking for a glass of water…then…”Oops…I’m out of time…gotta run.”
I can’t help but think this family album…our Freeka’s Funny Farm family album…ROCKS! After all, it’s only once in a lifetime our beloved Pips…Grayson and Pockets…turn two!
Party Down!!!
Elizabeth and I wanted to have fun. BIG FUN. BIG KIDS KINDA FUN.
I figured we needed entertainment. Somewhere out on one of my hiking trails…it hit me. (I love how my brain works on hiking trails.)
YES! We must do…Pin-the-Tail-on-the-PONKEY!
First I sought Recluse Michel-MAN-gelo’s talent. Yup. Got him outta bed early that day…
…took him down to the barn and gave him some chalk and introduced him to his model…
His creative juices started flowing…
Pockets loved her modeling job…
…and that Recluse Michel-MAN-gelo…such talent!
Of course…there is no tail. Just you wait.
Let the party begin!!
That’s Toots greeting Jessica on the left, Nate, and mama Suzy…and a huge bag of carrots!
Dakota and Sabrina!Hittin’ up the treasure chest…Dakota and granny Allie… she’s my riding partner from down the road…she’s sixty-nine and kicks my butt on the trails with her little Paso Fino! Allie grew up with her Chincoteague pony who lived to be thirty five!I had a gut feeling the bunny ears wouldn’t last long on Pockets……whad I tell ya…
The pink and purple girls…Suzanne and Pockets…I encouraged the kids to draw on the barn before we started Pin-the-Tail-on-the-Ponkey.
I’m not sure what kind of creature that is below. Yo…Sabrina!
I used to see monsters like that, hiding under my bed at night…Dakota in dreads…with the sun shining over her head…Let’s play Pin-the-Tail-on-the-Ponkey!!!
I braided ten tails from baling twine so peeps could keep their tails. This was not a big hit. I found tails everywhere after the party. Sigh. Pioneer Woman…I am not.
As everyone took turns, they were spun around once wearing a blindfold, then directed toward the barn door. Slap that tail on, remove the blindfold, have a good laugh (for me especially…and apparently Dakota), then initial with chalk.
Dakota went first…now that’s funny!
Next up…Jessica…Check her out! I love her Lost Unicorn shirt…
Sabrina……you rock that tail girl!
Nate…he’s a stellar football player with a soft spot for the Pips…Hmmm…that’s a tailback position!
And then it was my turn…I asked Jessica to turn me once……I was lucky to find the barn door!You might say…I don’t know my ass from a barn door…
Then along comes smarty-pants Suzanne……who could barely find the barn……but was smart enough to locate the other tails…
THAT’S IT!
We took down the tails.
Nice try Mama E…are you pinning the tail on the patella?
Some of the adults were too grown-up to bother…in other words…they were drinking beer in the shade…Did I say…Grown-Up?We did get Allie…Tim..…and Suzy to pin that tail!
After the game, prizes were given to the kids. They were really special gifts Elizabeth had chosen from her horse collection…winner got first pick.
Sabrina and her mini-horse!There were books and cards and fun horsey things…including Elizabeth’s booklet about the Grayson Highlands ponies…See Elizabeth smiling her best ‘pony-girl’ grin…Meanwhile…the artistry continued. I was blown away by how cool the barn was looking!
Pockets inspected. “OH MY GWAD…MY BUTT IS A MESS!” Now THAT is a HAPPY barn door…The party was rockin’……as the best carrot cake ever was served…But what about the horsies?I filled a trough with hay and had the troops sprinkle carrots on top…Suddenly there was an audience…Gypsy and Star! They were most attentive…especially when the molasses appeared…That Star has a looong neck…I mean really loooong…We chased the barn gang out to the pasture and shut the gate. It was time for our great leaders to march in the birthday buffet!Next came Pockets and Grayson…with Grayson charming the girls as always…What a FEAST! (see the Elders patiently waiting in the pasture)Elizabeth and I took turns making birthday photos…while Grayson and Pockets munched down with total birthday abandon!…then finally the Elders were invited in…Here you see a bit of horse-heaven on earth…Did I mention it was hot? So very hot in the mountains?It sure did seem like that fan followed Dave wherever he went……I know you are wondering if Recluse Man ever got that beer open…Well…he did…After our guests left…I couldn’t find Elizabeth…But Grayson found the beer…
It was a birthday party we will always remember…even the two-year-olds. Right Grayson?OH MY GWAD. Such a poser that Pockets!And that my friends…is the end of this chapter from our family album.How I love a good Tale of Tails!
I have had many nicknames during my lifetime. Freddie, of course, is my everyday nickname. Freeka, my blog name. My mom used to call me Reeculous Ticklehoufer. I liked that name. Mainly because it came from my mom and it was just…ridiculous.
Perhaps the silliest nickname I ever acquired was, ‘Fred the Bed.’ That came from my best girlfriends at summer horse camp. I don’t think there was any relevance, or event, or behavior behind it. Just that it rhymed. These grown women still call me that. Good thing they don’t live nearby.
I share this as a preface to another dumb poem I wrote. It’s part Dr Suess and part explanation as to where the heck I’ve been all summer.
While most people kick off their summer around the Fourth of July, my happy season…my joy…my summer giddiness, came to an abrupt end that memorable weekend.
Hark ye revelers…for the story of my bum thumb…
Yup..I broke my thumb falling off an ATV in Pennsylvania, going zero miles an hour. My right thumb no less. My favorite, most cherished thumb. The one that makes me a right-handed human being.
I was riding tandem, looking for photo opps, when my nephew’s girlfriend tried to turn the ATV around going up a steep embankment. As it started to roll, I elbowed my camera bag over my left shoulder and took the downhill fall with all my weight on my right hand.
CRUNCH went my thumb….followed by LOUD, NAUGHTY words that frightened the wildlife. (animal wildlife…well ok, maybe Katie too)
Here is my chauffeur, Katie, having a blast without a passenger. Behind her is the seat I fell from. Lemme tell ya…riding tandem stinks! Said Fred the Bed
Why is my thumb so Red?
Could it be Broke?
Am I Awoke?Said the Thumb
You are so Dumb!
I am about to Croak
And you just Spoke?
X-rays in Pennsylvania revealed a broken Bennett bone. That’s the bone that hinges the thumb to the rest of the hand. The bone that allows twisting, pinching, squeezing…as in the ability to brush my teeth, use a pitchfork, or wipe my butt right-handed.
Uh boy. It’s gonna be a long summer.
Said Fred the Bed
You are messing with my Head
It’s the Fourth of July
Please don’t lie.
The Yankee doctor fixed me up with a splint so I could drive the ten hours back home to my favorite Southern bone doctors. Because of the holiday weekend, and more X-rays with the Boone Ortho doctors, I didn’t have surgery until a week later.
I had the best nurse. She told me to remove my earrings and watch and any loose teeth. Then she asked a series of questions, including the standard. On a scale of 1-10…what is your pain level? On a scale of 1-10…I think they asked me at least eleven times in four hours.
Finally, she asked if I was comfortable and apologized for the long delay. Then another nurse asked another round of questions starting with the famous 1-10 pain scale opener. She concluded by asking me if I felt like hurting anyone, including myself. Whaaaa?
Now why would she ask that?Moments later…they took away my cell phone…then my thumb.Next thing I knew…there was Recluse Man in a fuzzy-wuzzy world…Said the Thumb
Play your own Drum
But wear this stiff Splint
Like a message in Cement
Oh to hell with my thumb. My hand was very swollen, my fingers were black and blue, and I had a deep wound on my outer pinky from the first splint pinching so hard.
(Outer pinky. I like that. “Hey there…wanna see my outer pinky?”…or… “OK to bring my outer pinky along?”…or…”Wow…my outer pinky is shedding!”)
Yeah…to hell with my thumb…I was feeling no pain with those big, white pills they gave me.
I decorated my splint…
…and hung out with the tribe…
It felt so goofy-good to be home post-surgery. Did I mention those white pills?
One day Recluse Man was painting the barn…
…when Pockets and I decided to get in on the fun…
Uh Oh!
That wonkey ponkey!!
Dang…she figured out the self-timer?
We had a blast!
…just ask Star…
Red roller, red roller…send Lily back over…
Then one day the white pills ran out and reality set in.
May I mention the frustration from trying to use a mouse left-handed with a big-fat-right-bum thumb on the keyboard. Or getting a lefty fork all neat inside my mouth without stabbing or slobbering. Or brushing my teeth…or…tying shoelaces…buttoning… unscrewing… doorhandles… knives…cast iron pans…and OMG…showering with a plastic grocery bag up to my elbow, trying to squirt out shampoo and lather one-handed.
Maybe the worst part was how much it hurt to hold my Nikons for long. Like more than three frames.
I have even greater respect now, for all those who have found ways to overcome limb and appendage disabilities. Humans and animals alike.
Said Fred the Bed
To the Thumb she thought Dead
I will Succumb
Just please..once again be my Thumb.
You are the sum of my Yum
My very right Thumb
The strum of my Hum
The opposite of Glum!
One week after surgery, I found myself back at the doc’s office. The nurse removed the splint to reveal the two pins in my hand…I think she left the gauze for effect. I just want you to know I had the following photos full size, until Recluse Man walked by and gagged.
You can thank him for the thumbnail size. It even sounds appropriate…
YIKES! New splint Paleeze!!! My hand was still very swollen and weak…
Three weeks after surgery I went in again for X-rays and a third splint. I shed a handful of skin as I scratched and waited and ignored the ‘no cell phone usage, no photos please’ sign.Meanwhile Recluse Man had to cover me on farm chores. Secretly I was smirking. I don’t think he realized what goes into making the zoo and the farm happy everyday. Poor guy.
We got a lot of rain and the grass grew mightily.I rounded up my own lawnmowers and pitched in…Many days and nights passed…
Then finally six weeks after surgery, the pins came out! It was a little creepy..the thought of actually pulling the pins out. But it was painless and the best part…I was sent home with a removable splint.
The longest pin was 2.5″…dang. I painted my nails in celebration. After all…I was a left-handed pro by then.
I quickly switched to a thumb brace so I could finally use the mouse right-handed…
But something wasn’t right. My thumb was stiff as a clothespin and I thought it might never heal properly. Since childhood I have had a funky, right thumb. It tends to stick or pop at the knuckle. After all those weeks in a splint, it took days of massaging before I got my thumb to pop back into action.
That first pop was a thrilling moment…
Said Fred the Bed
To her comely Thumb
You are not dead but Instead
What a beauty you’ve Become
My long lost Chum!
As a footnote, (great pun…just wait), check out some photos from this Labor Day morning when our farrier worked on the barn gang. Gypsy got two front shoes, one with a pad for some sole-ful healing on her left foot.
As you can see my thumb is working just fine…
Then…whoa boy! Star had his very first shoeing experience. Another sole-ful foot healing, and as long as he was twitched (most humanely), he was the perfect client.
Right Star? Said Fred the Bed…from my thumb…to your thumb…♥♥
Speaking for Pockets-the-Ponkey, I am sure she would have begun this post with that very same expletive. It’s her favorite line, and what inevitably follows, is some sort of drama.
It was a BIG day for Pockets last week…her first VISIT TOa VET!
A two hour journey down the mountain!
Pockets has been dealing with a leg condition called stifle-lock and Elizabeth was beside herself with worry. If anything, it had gotten worse over the winter.
Stifle lock, or ‘Upward Fixation of the Patella’ (UFP), is fairly common in horses and ponies. The stifle is the upper part of a back leg on a horse and consists of 3 bones: the tibia, femur, and patella. The tibia is like a person’s shin bone, the femur is similar to our thigh bone, and the patella serves as a knee cap connecting them. Stifle lock causes the back legs to pop, or sometimes lock and drag.
Grayson had stifle lock but outgrew it, as is often the case in a young pony or horse. Stifle lock doesn’t hurt a pony but it sure hurts looking at a leg that pops or drags. Elizabeth was coming out nearly everyday to work with Pockets. Exercise is great. And the whole Freeka herd has 24/7 access to the pasture or barn. Which is good. Very good to be mobile.
Sheesh. Somehow I ended up watching The Who in Hyde Park, instead of the news this morning. Much better way to start the day! Their 50th anniversary concert. And this is stuck in my head…
Keep me movin’ Over 50 Keep me groovin’ Just a hippie gypsy
Come on move now Movin’ Keep me movin’, yeah
Keep me movin’, groovin’, groovin’, yeah Movin’, Yeah Mobile, mobile, mobile, mobile
Let’s dedicate that to Pockets. WHEW! I have finally cooled down after watching Roger Daltrey strutting his stuff. That man has no stifle lock whatsoever!
Back to Pockets going mobile.
Mama E and her ponkey discussed the day ahead. Elizabeth told Pockets Dr Meeker is an expert…and I hinted he is a cutie to boot. She would be in good hands.
Here is the P-Pip trying to say Dwoctahh Meekaaahh….
We practiced trailer loading so many times, Pockets was a pro. So long was there was a little grain. (Check out Peak Mountain in this frame. That Mountain. Inspires Me. Every Day.)
I lifted that darn trailer gate so many times with Star-boy and P-pip…I made the excuse I needed to document. My aching back!!! Such heroes…Recluse Man and Karen…
I worship the ground they walk on…and the trailer doors they close!
Elizabeth was happy…Pockets…not so much…(read ear language)…
And check out the look! HEWP!!!! I AM BEING KWIDNAPPED!!!!
When we got to Davie County Large Animal Hospital, in Mocksville, NC, we had a little wait. No problem with that. The grounds and facilities make for a very comfortable visit…But Holy Patooties!!! Pockets saw the EQUINE AMBULANCE and declared she would not travel home unless it was in that very same ambulance…
Such a Rebel! Such a Drama Queen!
Listen here you ponkey…you are NOT Mariah Carey or Beyonce, or any kind of Diva…demanding special transport!!! (Snort…)I had to remind her…she didn’t exactly qualify as a ‘LARGE ANIMAL’…(Snorts Galore)…
Thank the Ponkey-Gwad…for Heidi…answering calls and greeting clients. Elizabeth had already declared her a great friend after spending loving-lingering-bragging moments on the phone making the appointment…Then…the big moment came when Dwoctahh Meekaaahh examined Pockets.
He said…
‘This is the Texas-Ponkey-Two-Step-Syndrome. The way she dances in place!?! Turn up some George Jones!’ (totally fooling…forgive me Dr Meeker…totally-totally fooling)
Time for a serious walk to check out Pocket’s moves. After all…she has never stepped two feet in Texas…
Mama E showed the good doctor a video. Of course Dr Meeker recognized the problem immediately. But wadda-mama-she-is…showing off her ponkey-kid…
It had been eight weeks since Pocket’s last date with our farrier. I had suggested waiting until after our vet-visit to learn the best way to trim her. Too bad the farrier at the clinic was totally booked that day.
I figured Dr Meeker could draw some sharpie lines on her hooves…But wait a minute…in a stroke of luck…Robert the farrier pulled up. Hay-lelujah!!!! Good to meet you dude! Just in time!!
But first Pockets needed sedation. She has no love for farriers and tends to rear up all high and mighty in defiance. At least as high as she can get. (maybe 4 more inches?)
Here comes the Blood…
The Sweat…(and dirt from rolling in thunderstorms)…
…and the Gears…churning in that ponkey head…
The cute-paleo farrier took over after that. He reminded me of a caveman…no business cards to share…no email…no FaceBook. He just said…”If you need me, they know how to find me here.” We were smitten. At least three out of four of us girls. Pockets not-so-much.
She was suspicious to say the least…the dude had scary tools and dangling ropes…and weird britches…
But in no time, Pockets was having sweet lil ponkey dreams…
Never mind the torture tools at her feet…
In her dreams…Pockets asked Karen….”HOW HIGH DOES A CARROT FLY?”
“Way higher than your chinny chin chin,” Karen replied. Karen is so good at bedtime stories. Pockets was in a trance…imagining flying carrots…
Later on…Mama E and I agreed we might have a crush on our new vet and farrier…but an even BIGGER CRUSH on KAREN!!! For years shce has offered her Tucker Farm as a sanctuary for donkeys and goats in need of rescue. Now she can add ‘ponkey’ to her resume. Without hesitation, she offered to transport Pockets to the vet. Talk about great friends.
Karen…the ponkey-donkey-goat angel!!!Every angel needs a break. Plus angel-duty meant squatting in front of the fan…ahhh…felt so good. It was hot and sticky down down in the piedmont. My turn!!!“It’s your second sedation you rascally ponkey…let me tell you a story about the ponkey who fell down and never got up…you listening?” (I admit…I am not so good at bedtime stories).Elizabeth was enormously proud of her beloved Pockets…
Of course she documented the trim job for our local farrier to see. A half hour of action-packed drama. Soon to be released on Netflix. (not)
This is the final trim. How ’bout that!! Four on the floor…
However, the photo I couldn’t stop studying, shows the difference between her trimmed back hoof (on left), and eight weeks of growth (on right) The new trim gives her better balance and easier movement. Her stifle lock is not gone…but mo’ betta. One last look after the trim, and a little trot-about. Here is Pockets singing…’The Low Spark Of High-Heeled Girls’. Actually it was more like…”OH MY GWAD…WE DONE???? I WANNA GO HOME NOW-NOW-NOW!!!!”Well excuse me m’ dear…but we are not quite done. First, Elizabeth had to express her gratitude to the good doctor.Lots of gratitude…Back home, Pockets set a personal best for her quickest ‘unload’ time…
Her elders were excited to have their little mascot home…
Grayson not so much. He was still recovering from an AWOL adventure during a thunderstorm the night before…
Pockets doesn’t know this yet, but in five weeks she will have another day of Blood, Sweat, and Gears. Poor wonkey-ponkey!
Thanks to all for following this little Tale of Pockets!
There’s something about a BIG snow that brings out the Neanderthal in me.
This behavior pattern…it seems to happen over and over again…whenever it seriously snows.
This is what I know.
I’ll find myself all toasty warm inside, standing at the door, mesmerized, watching a winter storm play out over the pasture below. Snowflakes putting on quite the show…suddenly sweeping sideways…or zipping upside down…or rocketing downward before crashing in a blur of mates. Their fellow snowflake-soulmates in the soulful snowflake cemetery in the pasture below. The snowful-mates are falling en masse. The snowflake cemetery is getting a pile on.
That’s when I get dizzy.
Where are the horsies? Usually I’ll see Pockets in her favorite position…looking my way from inside the little barn door.
And that’s when it happens. The Neanderthal moment. Cooped up far too long, I’ll suddenly feel like a lunatic cave woman who needs to come out of her cave-closet. It’s far more than just wanting fresh air. And it’s way worse than cabin fever.
I want to paint my face and shed my clothes. I want to run and shout and chase ponies and horses and snowflakes…like a neked crazy cave woman on the brink.
“AAARGHHGOBANSHEEEEZEETWERKERSHERFURYERMAMAMAGRRRRRRRGOGO!” (I’ll shout at the horsies).
BUT WAIT JUST A MOMENT! HOLD YER HORSIES!!
I am a 21st century Neanderthal-Farm-Chick. I close my eyes, breathing deeply through my nose. A moment of meditation. I gather myself. I do a downward dog. I see an upside down D.O.G. Time to make a run for it.
But first I must dress the part. Carhartt – Muck Boot chic. And instead of painting my face, I pack my camera bag. Then I am ready to go run and shout and chase ponies and horses and snowflakes.
I’ll yell at the top of my lungs…”BLAAAAH! BLAAAH-BLAH-BLAH-BLAAAH!!!” (not very original…and the horsies are onto me)
So I wave my arms and shake an empty feed bag…”BLAAAH!”
My pec muscles are aching the next day.
Shall we get on to some favorite snowy farm photos?
BLAAAAH!!!!
The first January snow was a light one. Somewhat windy…but that makes it even more exciting for a soccer game.
Grayson was chomping at the ball…
…practicing his moves…
Star had never met a horse-soccer ball…much less played the game. (Does Gypsy look like a bored soccer mom?)
Grayson promised to teach Star…
Pockets said…”OH MY GWAD…DA SAME DUM GWAY BALL…I WAAAH PUHPLE!!”
Then suddenly Grayson kicked the ball and sent it flying..
…or maybe it was Star who was flying!…
So much so…he needed to get up close and personal…and sniff…
…and lick…before the gray ball terror subsided…
Grayson showed Star some moves…
Then said, “YER TURN!”
Star snickered…”Heck Yeah…Bite This…Pelé!”Ambihooftrous…no less! Wowzer!
It was halftime and I barged in. “Alright! Enough! Time for a family portrait!”
It was a beautiful color-coordinated portrait…Olan Mills style…
…until Star could no longer help himself…or actually did help himself…to a sniff…
NEXT SNOW???
Bad attitudes all the way around. Gypsy took it upon herself to lead the tribe around and around the round pen. Every which right way I was rounding…she rounded about the other wrong way…
In a roundabout way…it was wrongful and ridiculous…It was clearly a conspiracy…
…there was no getting around it…
Finally Star approached me cautiously…while Gypsy held back.
BAD MANNERS!!!
BAD PARENTING!
Pockets was the only one to show remorse…or maybe those were just snowflakes stuck to her eyelashes…
Whatever…I gave up.
Then the BIG KAHUNA came along. It was supposed to be a two foot mega-blizzard last weekend…but wimped out at barely twelve inches. I am very happy with wimpy snow. That very same wimpy snow is still glaring at me.
During the so-called blizzard…Pockets was briefly misidentified as a dirty snowflake…I couldn’t help myself. I turned Neanderthal and whooped it up…I may have had a little help…who dat?…Recluse Man?? Go Ahead!!! I’m ready…shake that bag!!!
Poor Pockets…almost tummy-high in the snow…it was hard for her to keep up…
…especially while Mama G’s silly boyfriend was showing off his fancy footwork!
Around the pasture they ran…with Star in the lead…
…until…”OH MY GWAD!” said Pockets…“NOT DA BIG HILL!!”
Pockets was as determined as any ponkey had ever been..
It required enormous ponkey-will-power…
Once up top…Pockets was very proud of herself…But then she made it clear..we needed to talk…
“I WAAH WONGER WEGS!’ she said…Umm…ok…is that the end of the conversation?
The next day when the sun popped…she was feeling better…nuttin’ finer than a snow beard to cheer a ponkey!And it was then that I discovered what Pockets excels at in a snowy world…
SNOW PLOWING!How about doing the driveway next… Pockets??
Sheesh…I am hiding in the barn…it’s taken me so freekin’ long to publish a post.
Yes.
It’s me. I’m back. The gone-forever girl.
Lotsa water under the bridge.
Lotsa poo shoveled.
Lotsa trying times.
Lotsa healing days.
Lotsa joy.
Lotsa horses.
Lotsa laughter and love with my tribe… and especially Recluse Man.
Dang. I could write a corny country song.
That was the end of 2015 in a nutshell. And now here it is already the second week of January.
While sweeping out the old and bringing in the new, I thought it might be a good thing to share some of my favorite funny farm photos from 2015. Little did I know how long it would take. In fact…I had to get a wrist brace to finish this post!
Holy Cow Patties…did I ever get carried away! I do believe I have Photoshop Tendonitis.
Before I begin with this indescribably hilarious and seemingly bottomless blog post…(OMG…how many photos and words did I include???)…let me announce our latest addition to the tribe…STAR!!!
That would be the very same Star-Trek-Wars-damn-horse I tried to load on the trailer for 24 days…then finally walked here…2.2 miles in 45 minutes..smooth and easy.
After a short trial period with Star and Gyps and the Pips…about one week before Christmas…my crazy boyfriend…that Recluse Man who I love…told me he wanted to buy Star as a Christmas gift for me.
HAPPY HEART POUNDING WITH GLEE!! INDESCRIBABLE JOY BEYOND WORDS!!! That’s what I was feeling when Recluse Man asked me what I thought about the idea. HEAD IN THE CLOUDS!!
Welcome to the farm…you hot-blooded-red-headed stranger..STAR!
You’re mine all mine!
Now for some favorite farm photos from 2015…
Let’s start with Freeka’s Funny Farm covered in snow…
Grayson and Pockets had arrived two days before Christmas 2014, when their Mama Elizabeth brought them to live on the farm. They were born into feral herds in June 2014, at Grayson Highlands State Park. Three months later, Elizabeth bought them at the annual pony auction. Six months after their birth…they joined my tribe.
OK…so one is a ponkey…(half pony – half donkey). Guess who?
(hint…the one hiding her ears…)What the hay??? Gypsy had never seen such pip-squeaks before! Could it be???? Gyps & the Pips??? Move over Gladys Knight!!!Such short legs running in the snow! Gypsy wondered if she was ready to be a soccer mom… Will they ever grow? She thought…they were so funny looking…But with such a sense of humor! Why Gypsy was a smash at motherhood!
Then one February day, a pot bellied pig named D.O.G. arrived…His human, Tommy, had been looking for a good home for him… A little peanut butter bribery on a stick, and D.O.G. discovered his new home in our abandoned chicken coop…
No doubt…D.O.G. wondered where he had landed…is this the moon?I was so tickled to have a pig.
I mean he WAGGED HIS TAIL AT ME…the very FIRST MORNING!!!!
I GUSHED and SWOONED!!!! (while he chomped and smiled)
On the second morning, after the weather got very cold, D.O.G. figured out where Recluse-Banana Man lives…
Recluse-Banana Man is way more fun than those mean ponies and yapping dogs…They were so up close and personal…
D.O.G. decided ‘Running with the Pips’ wasn’t for him…
After that…the pigster free-range grazed until I worried he’d become bigger than our house…D.O.G. considered going on a diet…(very briefly)…in order to fit through the dog door…Meanwhile…winter was still wagging around…
I’ve always loved that late-winter day when the Rose-breasted Grosbeaks finally arrive…
Elizabeth and I did silly things and made lots of photos…
We found out Grayson does not like to wear hats or jewelry…but will gladly nibble on any-damn-thing…don’t ask me about Mama E’s taste in hairdos…
Pockets? Why she just LUUUVS to dress-up!
Our Starlet!
It was the Pips first winter!“Who cares?”…said the pig! I’m running away from home…Sing it Toots!
No matter what season…Blue pursued his favorite pastime……while I found the secret to giving D.O.G. a successful pedicure…
When the warm weather returned, Recluse Man did some spring cleaning. Much to Lily’s disgust…he tossed the TrAshe county porch couches!!! WTCOUCH???In between repairing fences, Recluse Man discussed the merits of having white hair…with his favorite hairy-white friend Pockets…As a result…she felt uplifted!!!After all…she’s a honkey-fonkey-furry-white-ponkey!!!Pockets…”OH MY GWAD…It’s tough hangin’ wif a fwend like Gwayson…”
Hey let’s not forget how cute the pigster is…all posing in front of the rhododendron…he is…By early spring, Elizabeth and I were walking Gyps and the Pips to the river and around the neighborhood. The Pips were learning about halters and lead ropes and voice commands…(theoretically)Spring on the farm!!!Spring is for the birds!! It was my first year putting suet out through the winter and beyond…Such payoffs! (ok…so I’ve never had a grackle at a feeder before)Jesse-Linguini was nearly fully recovered from her ACL surgery by spring, and was ready to run and play outside…ya think?
Jess…”gimme one more dang dog toy and Ima rip out yer persnal sqweeker…5 sekunds or less”)Then…Pockets saw her first rainbow……and fainted……what a drama queen…Elizabeth comes out every chance she gets… …while Recluse Man and I try to find a little time to ourselves……but there’s always competition…and serenading in the background…HA!Then when we finally GO somewhere…… it FREEKIN’ rains!!!Who cares??? We’ll make the most of it!Back on the farm…while I was tending to daily chores… Recluse Man was singing in the shower…and that would be the Minny Whinny shower!
If I recall, he was singing…”Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain…” …oh go SPLISH SPLASH..will ya?! What the heck you doin’ there Recluse Man???? Quite the psychedelic landscape…are you on the Magic Bus?
D.O.G. enjoyed hanging out on our porch and gave up on the chicken coop sometime during late spring. He was fine with going up three steps to get to the porch…but he made it perfectly clear he did not like going back down the steps. It required serious bribery.
As experts…we found tortilla Pringles worked the best…
Then we set up a ramp. It was an instant success with at least two of the d.o.g.s…
Dog Day Afternoon…but where’s the D.O.G.? Did he really go down the ramp????
Tommy showed up one hot summer day and shortly after we decided I would become D.O.G.’s permanent human. Hot diggity D.O.G.!!!
Nuttin’ like having a watermelon-eatin’ partner who doesn’t spit seeds…
I hope we don’t start looking like each other…like dog owners so often do…
The pigster loves it when spa day rolls around…
He gets a pedicure…a facial…a tusk cleaning…and…WATERMELON!!!…
It didn’t take long to realize…if the pigster’s nails aren’t polished…he develops a shoe fetish…
We love a reason to throw a good party around here…
When the Pips turned one…
…we made the most of it…
…until Pockets got schnockered on molasses and we had to cut her off…
Then Fourth of July…
I had one hat to share…….well maybe two…
Go Toots!…the others skedaddled when they heard fireworks in the distance…something to be said about ‘hard of hearing’…how I know…right Toots?
RIGHT TOOTS?SUMMER…my first, second, third…favorite season…
When I go to war with the watercress…
…and I think I’m winning…but not…(Let’s check in with Blue again…ok…still the same.)
When summer rolls around, we buy new Koi from a local high school FFA program. That’s after the freekin’ great blue herons and raccoons and kingfishers have feasted to the point of heartbreak and tears through the previous seasons.
The release of a new generation brings joy and anticipation. Yet often, we don’t see them for up to a full year after their release in our pond. Fortunately, we picked out some exhibitionists this time around…
…good luck amigos……listen to your elders..…and follow your bliss…(before the barracudas show up…)
Back to summer….
Did I mention Recluse Man’s summertime pizzas??? LOADED with love…and olives…and herbs and peppers and cheese…fresh from the garden and markets…The pigster was caught stalking…like ….’every breath you take…every move you make…Ima watchin’ you’…PIZZA…REALLY????
Occasionally the pigster would go AWOL. I freaked when he did this the first two times…but then realized it was a simple search and rescue to bring him home.
I am…after all…D.O.G.’s…The Bounty Hunter…with CHEERIOS!!!! Ah Ha!!! Got him!Meanwhile…Lily greeted every visitor to the farm……and experimented with mud packs…
…while the other d.o.g.s laughed…or napped at the thought of such ambition…“Hey Toots…those ain’t marshmallows …ok girl?”Who Cares???? Look what Recluse Man got….
Lookin’ good biker dude…it’s a Honda Shadow for croooooosin’!!
Summer is wonderful. After weedwacking and sweating and mowing for hours…I pretend I’m livin’ the life. Coconut bras and pineapple drinks galore…(oops…did I order the wrong size coco’s?)
And then I started blogging…and life changed…
I found myself sharing thoughtful, retrospective, deep-delving glimpses and realizations…even while revisitng my boarding school of years past…
…I found myself sharing the kind of urban chick I used to be…when I had a studio and lived five minutes from town…
I found myself chomping on the reins to share every little ride…
ENOUGH!!! TIME OUT!!!Does anyone need a TV or couch? ….
OK. Back to work…it’s hay season!! (wtf???…are those Pips loose?)
Is this Meals on Wheels?Somehow I got talked into pullin’ and stackin’ bales…
It’s a primitive and itchy job…
…that requires some airing out……and a good farm hand on hand…Meanwhile…during hay season…Pockets discovered she lives in a gated community!!!…yet not far away is an authentic outhouse!!!!
(Oh My GWAD…people poop! lemme outta here!!!)Blue continued to pursue his favorite pastime……as did his bgf…Moondust…The hummers were a daily sideshow…I made hundreds of hummer photos……and braved the rain (from under the deck roof)… I was not alone in my fascination…
Moondust had arisen……while the Pips practiced their two-step……and the pigster turned rasta…
Then Halloween rolled around…
…or is that Elizabeth rolling around???Pockets finally met ‘the Great Ponkin’…(dang…that hat gets around)…
…then chomped The Great Ponkin’s offspring……while D.O.G. dressed as Wilbur…“Trick or Treat???”…the pigster asked…“TRICK OR TREAT…LET ME IN OR I’LL BLOW THE DANG DOG DOOR IN!”
Waza matter pigster….been chompin’ too many treats…’eh???Ahhh…the beauty of autumn…when the Pips run wild…(or just stand and chomp)……an occasional walk is good…Next thing ya know it’s snowing…wait…that’s not snow…ah hem…Lily…oh LILY???“It gets so cold outside….paleeze let us in????” (use the dang dog door dummies!)
Holiday season is on…
…and Elizabeth seemed to love her new Muck Boots…
…but I had to tell her to tuck in her pants…WTH girlie???
…she got it…finally……meanwhile the pigster had moved inside..and tried to disguise himself among the spotty furniture…It was pointless to try and hide with a sock monkey…indeed..catastrophic……it became a funny farm…’cativity scene’…Yet I was discouraged…trying to load Star to bring him to the farm…I knew…he knew…he wasn’t going to fit in my car…After days and days of working with him…I got him to load…
…so long as no one was at the back gate…Finally after 24 days of trying to transport Star in the trailer…I decided we’d trek 2.2 miles to my farm. What a Star-Trek…one mile of which was on a fast two lane highway…this part had me freeked….until we had a perfect practice walk…I was never happier to get him on the farm in one piece…….then we all fell to pieces over his dance steps…
…even Grayson…the little man…
Star had never met a critter so poised and confident…and wanting to smell his butt…as Pockets…Let’s get on with Christmas!Too bad Mama E had to leave for her hometown of New Orleans……but of course Santa would watch over her Pips……when he wasn’t posing……or caught in the act….(What the heck…Santa…that’s my barn door!!!)I quickly forgave Santa when he gave me a horse of my own for Christmas……dats right you red-headed beauty…you are part of the tribe now!!!…shall we belly-bump Santa?Pockets was not amused…there was nothing in HER stocking…”WAAAAAH?”…dang…even the rasta pigster who doesn’t celebrate holidays that feature ham on the table…
…got something!!!…as Linguini says…”it’s all in your attitude…”…and with that…I believe the year closed on a good note…let’s ask Grayson…..better yet…lemme hug on Santa…Stay tuned for more zaniness from the funny farm in 2016…Be back soon…ya hear?
For those of you who have been following the adventures of Star…the horse that is sooner or later bound for my farm…here is the latest.
Star did not load in the trailer all the way today, but we made great strides. Janice was sweet enough to leave her trailer behind so I could work with Star in a more relaxed environment. Just one on one with a trailer. Like Aaron Rodgers says…RELAX!
But then I started to realize…there is no such thing as a relaxed environment at this farm. In fact, there are a ton of distractions in the neighborhood. For being out in the country on a dead end road, there are horses all around, and people jogging and walking, and dogs barking and stealing my gloves and lead lines, and trucks and cars, and the mailman and neighbors. But what finally ended our session? The loud blasts of gunshots nearby! Even the Great Pyrenees slumbering out of sight, was glued to my leg after that.
It had been awhile since Star and I had a training session together, so I spent time with him first off, working in the round pen. A refresher crash course of sorts. I made some spooky stuff for him to walk on…a huge length of plastic wrap with corrugated tin underneath. He walked over it so many times, it got booooring. Could a ramp to a trailer be scarier than that?
Apparently so…this is as far as we got….looks real scary…eh?
I used a stick and a flag and tips I learned in videos I watched, but overall I found that I wanted him to trust me, without instilling fear. I want to make him feel like the trailer is a happy space. We were on the verge…until the damn gunshots….
Now you’re wondering…. WHAT THE HECK? Where does Dr. RM Spock fit into this?
Well, lemme back up. When I go to Star-Bucks, I have to round up the horsies first. Their pasture is huge and very steep and lately they favor the uppermost parts. I drive up in my trusty Subaru, but it sure makes things easier if I have a helper, shaking the bucket of grain, enticing the three stooges down to the lower pasture. Then I single out Star, and jump the creek with him, to move him into the paddock with the round pen. And that’s where the scary-ass trailer is parked.
Elizabeth is a pro at this, however she wasn’t available this morning.
But look who showed up…to beam the horsies down!!!!
It’s DR. RM SPOCK!!!!
He kept saying crazy shit like…
“Logic is the beginning of wisdom, not the end.”
“Change is the essential process of all existence.”
“Once you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.”
He was getting heady as I got the halter ready….I couldn’t help myself…
There are plenty of documentary photos from the attempted trailer loading of my friend Star today. However…I would rather not edit them now and be reminded of the hours we spent futily trying to load that stubborn mule.
I had the very best of help with Team Trailer Star…thanks to Karen, Janice, Elizabeth, and Recluse Man. I thought Recluse Man might ride away on Buck while we weren’t watching. I mean…he had big feelings for that horse. But there was no breaking up Star-Buck today.
After more than two hours of rearing and balking and roping and walking…we chose to leave the trailer behind.
I will work with Star tomorrow…hopefully getting him adjusted and loading in the trailer with no big distractions.
Team Trailer Star and I would rather have it go peacefully and naturally…even if it takes a few days…rather than use force and fear tactics.
But keep in mind…YOU STUBBORN MULE…THE FORCE IS WITH US!!!!
One last look after the trim, and a little trot-about. Here is Pockets singing…’The Low Spark Of High-Heeled Girls’. Actually it was more like…”OH MY GWAD…WE DONE???? I WANNA GO HOME NOW-NOW-NOW!!!!”
