Broke out the good camera

Justice and the spot

Justice has been doing this really embarrassing baby Frankenstein routine, along with some charming sweating, so we decided to give him his first clip.

Imagine my surprise when dark brown baby boy turned up with a random spot on his side:

(Please excuse the uck.  Baby boy is filthy.)

We knew he has the Appaloosa gene - he's got white sclera, stripey hooves, and spots on some select bits of skin.  The thing is, he's been solid brown since he was born.  Even more amusing, we didn't see the spot until we shaved him.  It was hidden under the winter fluff.

And the crowning hilarity of this whole thing?  We stuck our heads out into the pasture, and his mom - likewise solid brown with LP - and she has suddenly developed a white spot on her nose.  It looks like somebody put a dollop of sunscreen on her face!

Shiny new bridle

Long ago, in the misty days of lesson kid, I had this horrendous, insane riding instructor.

When I say "horrendous, insane" - this was the woman that almost convinced several horse-crazy teenagers that they never wanted to ride again.  It was bad.  The singular good thing that came out of that whole mess was a super-cheap dressage saddle (with all the fittings) that my parents were persuaded to buy for me shortly before my instructor finally realized we weren't buying a horse from her and proceeded to lose her ever-loving mind.

I kept that thing for years.  When I say cheap - if I remember correctly, we paid $250 in the mid-to-late 1990s.  The girth eventually stretched out from a 28" to 34" and had to be repaired at least twice.  I had to spend some time fixing the color on the panels, as the black saddle turned brown where my legs sat.  For what it was, it was a good saddle; it fit most horses well enough for the lessons I was doing, and it was mine.

I finally sold it a couple of years before I started riding at the current barn, and used that money and a some extra cash from an old savings account to buy a Courbette all-purpose.  It's a lovely dark brown, and I have a girth and stirrup leathers to match.  I also accidentally found a pair of split reins that match beautifully.

Conveniently, the AP fits Cessa.  This... may have lead to me determinedly haunting eBay until I found a brown Courbette bridle that would also fit her.  Maybe.  The browband's too small, but I was planning to get or make a beaded one anyway...

Farrier visit for the little dude

Doesn't he look thrilled?

But Mom, it's new!

So among the things I've found exciting about this whole "owning horses" deal is buying new, shiny things.  (Seriously, give me half a chance and a bigger budget, and I'm going to be a hell of a tack whore.)

By the time it finally got cold and rainy, I had a plan.  My barn friends have blankets that will fit Justice until he's big enough that I won't be buying a new one every year, but Cessa long ago stopped getting bigger.  (Well, in the ways that matter - girl isn't exactly a hard keeper...)

She's worn blankets before; it shouldn't have even been an issue.  But between the cold weather, a bit of a wind, and the crinkly noises of a new blanket - and hell, maybe the stripes instead of a solid color - she spent over an hour following me around the stall as closely as she could.  You could almost see the text over her head:

Mom!  Save me from this thing!  It's eating me!

By the time I left, she'd gotten over herself, but I was cracking up.

Christmas Belle

Just for fun!

My barn friends are a terrible influence

I've had a long history of being "the lesson kid."  I started lessons in the mid-90s, and aside from a brief interlude after college where my instructor of 10 years quit giving lessons and finding someone I could ride with was too much trouble - I've always had lessons.

About five years ago, I accidentally connected with someone about an hour away who was happy to have me come up and putter around on her horses whenever I made it out there.  I've cuddled with a lot of her beasties, and finally ended up befriending a big bay mare - which I totally have a weakness for bay mares, particular ones with lots of hair.

And, well...

Hair, she has.

And after five years and one thing and another, my barn owner friend started threatening to sell her to me.

Around the same time, this little guy was born:

And while I won't say I immediately fell in love... little boy is fancy.  And when I commented one day that if I could steal one of this year's foal crop, he would be the one, his breeder (one of my barn friends) said, "You know, we could make you a deal... And if you have two horses instead of just one, then you've got a built-in buddy system..."  And I couldn't stop thinking about it.

So as of December 5, 2015, I now own two bay horses.  Two unbroke bay horses, because it's not bad enough that I'm going from one horse to two - neither one of them has much more training than halter/trailer/farrier.

I know from past experiences that I am actually kind of a terrible blogger, so this is going to be more of a journal of "things I did with my horses" than anything else.  Readers and commenters welcome, though!