NaBloPoMo Day 01- When and why you started riding

Believe it or not, I know this to the month and year - June 1992.

I'd been bugging my parents for years at that point to be able to take lessons, but I wanted to ride English, and I grew up in the Land of Western Riders.  But in 1992, the local rec center partnered with a local English barn, and I got to take a whole four weeks of lessons.

Yep, there are pictures.

Why?

Horses.  Duh.  Pretty much horse crazy from the start.

Trying out this NaBloPoMo thing

Clover Ledge Farm is doing a National Blog Posting Month thing, and... you know, it's been a week and I need to do something that isn't all the bullshit that's been going on, so what the hell.  Let's see how many of these I can do... and I totally apologize for the mini-flood that's going to happen as I catch up.  :)

Baby butt!

Fall color: still kind of marble cake-ish.

Slowly frosting mane.

Cold weather, rain, and oh, the non-barn-related drama have things moving slowly around here, but there's always time for butt scratches.

Note to my thirteen year old self

Dear teenage me:

One day, you will have to peel gunk out from between your mare's udders.

It's weird.

But at least it's not as stinky as sheathe cleaning...?

-Adult me

A story of 3 babies

I had one of those irritating headaches that persisted through all the drugs I could reasonably throw at it, so no media from this weekend.

On the other hand, I do have a brief study in horses:

Baby 1: Justice

Haltered him, sprayed him with flyspray.  He circled and circled, unhappy with the process, and eventually stood still.

Baby 2: half-sister 1

No halter, spritzed her with flyspray.  She took off at a trot to the other side of the paddock and wouldn't come near me again.

Baby 3: half-sister 2

No halter, spritzed her with flyspray.  She flinched once, then stood rock-steady while I sprayed one side, walked around her, and sprayed the other.

They're all so different, despite having the same sire!  (Okay, half-sister 1, I expected that shit.  She is Cessa's baby, and Cessa stamps her personality all over her babies.  It's hilarious.)

Nnnngh I hate people sometimes

Today is one of those days where I'm so very tempted to talk about the crazy-ass drama that led to my friends basically getting out of the horse industry.

However, my friends do not deserve that bullshit falling on their heads.  I really, really shouldn't publicly name names.  At least one individual involved has set up Google alerts on her name and her daughter's (and probably the name of the registry).  About all I can do is note that baby boy is registered with the original registry, and that if you search for the S in that registry name, you can probably figure out what the new so-called registry is.

For now, I am going to content myself with this:

When you try to outright steal a registry, then create your own registry for the same breed when your piss-poor attempt fails... and then you spend more than a year systematically lying - and getting your clueless friends who believe your shit and your alts to spread those lies - in order to destroy the original registry and the people that caught you at your attempted theft and stopped it... you do not have a high horse to sit on.  In fact, when you add on to that probable industrial espionage and outright fraud, the high horse has left the fucking county.  So don't sit there and claim you "rescued" a horse that didn't need rescuing from the people whose life you tried to destroy.

Also, all of your breed registry shit looks like it was created by a talentless hack of a scrapbooker.  Especially your papers.

May every one of you get exactly what you deserve.

/rant

Busy week

Last Sunday, my parents wanted to finally meet the ponies, so we headed up to the barn. Verdict?  Nobody died, nobody got stepped on, I didn't get squished because Cessa's pasture-mates have more manners than she does, and Justice is "at least as big as some of the horses you used to ride."  *snort*  Not horse people, my folks...

Saturday was a wedding, so barn day was Sunday instead.  And it was actually almost cool instead of... you know... Texas weather!

Ever get the feeling you're being followed? lol

And yes, he ran into me.  Oops.  We're gonna work on a verbal whoa cue there, I think, so maybe I can stop him running into stuff with his forehead (at least while I'm watching)...

His random ear spot has reappeared, too!

Best baby.

Apex selfie game.  It's all downhill from here, folks.

As for Cessa...  Well, someone was being a bitch because there was a new hay bale in the pasture.

This is the look I got when I told her so.

The hilarious part is that she let me catch her twice last weekend without a fuss, but this weekend?  Nope.  Not having it.  I wasn't even carrying a halter!  Mares!

At least the donkey wanted to see me.

Comparison shot: Justice's dam Love on the left, Cessa on the right.