New Girl

Tim bought a new mare this weekend, and it's another black horse (four of the seven horses are black.)

 She has a very striking black diamond on her forehead and one white sock. Pretty girl!

Even in profile, that diamond stands out. She has no name yet, although she's been called "Persuasion" all her life. (Tim bought her from a ward member who had had her since birth.) I think of her as "Diamond." (Original, hm?)

She seems very dominant; for two evenings she has done a lot of screaming, kicking, and prancing as she tries to integrate into the herd. So far Diablo is still queen.

Tim says he is not sure what he plans to do with her, but I know that Mason's owners are looking for a better horse, and Kim Routsong told me that her husband, Mike, has been riding with Tim and wants a horse. Time will tell!

Little Church in the Country

This old country church is on the way to the barn. Located at the corner of 250 W and 500 N, I pass it when I go see Abby.

 Mt. Zion United Methodist Church, West Lafayette, Indiana

I love traveling through the midwest and coming across hidden gems like this, whether they are homes, barns, or churches. To me, the churches are beacons of faith from an earlier time, when life wasn't as easy as it is now, and people had to travel great distances to gather with as a congregation of believers.

Easily I imagine wagons, buggies, and horses tied up around this church on a Sunday morning, the worshippers having made their journeys across unpaved roads, muddy tracks, and trails to express their faith, and I can almost hear a wheezing pump organ playing reedy notes as the congregants sing.

A new modern Methodist church has been built two miles to the east at the corner of 50 W and 500 E, but this building and its congregation continue to meet.

Some day I would like to attend a Sunday service here. While not a Methodist, there is something about this country church that makes me smile and feel close to the Lord.

To My Children

Dear Sarah, Jessica, Kyle, Lisa, Curt, Cole, Todd, Andrew, Ashley, Vanessa, and Emily,

Sorry kids, but it's hopeless. I was hooked on horses as far back as I can remember, and it hasn't abated fifty five years later.

Some day this will be me:

Love,

Your Horsey Mom

Please Pack the Horse

Today on the phone, Braden and I were talking about our summer plans. I invited him to come up here for Groompa Camp, and as we talked about what we might do, I mentioned he could ride the horses.

Then the conversation moved on to my visit to him down there in Florida this coming June and what we might do when we were together. I was thinking along the lines of going to the beach, but Braden had other ideas.

"Grammy?" he queried. "Will you bring your horse?"

Oh. My.

I am still smiling.

The Ghost of Sunday Past

This is the ghost of Sunday past:

Abby.

I didn't begin attending church regularly until I was a senior in high school, so my Sunday mornings were often spent out with my horses, especially Amy, Abby's "twin."

Well, it's General Conference weekend, and the broadcast doesn't begin until noon, so I did my carrot run earlier than usual, heading out mid morning. I wound up spending the rest of the morning with Abby, just as I used to with Amy on sunny spring mornings. (Shades from the past!)

The sun was shining and the temperature was in the 50s, so I grabbed Abby's halter and brought her into the paddock to graze. (I love how she keeps her attention on me - look at those ears!)

 Tim has a flatbed trailer parked there, so I perched on it and held the lead rope while Abby chomped. She would periodically come over and nose me, then head back to eating. (Shades of the round pen experience before I bought her!)

I also had brought my orange bucket of brushes, combs, and curry combs, so I groomed her a bit while she ate. It's definitely shedding time!

It's also apparent that Abby has been grain fed before - when I rummaged through my bucket for a brush or comb, she'd stretch her nose toward it in interest. The bucket not only had grooming implements, it had some carrots in it, too. She munches one in the picture above.

We spent a pleasant morning together, enjoying the sun and (in Abby's case) the fresh spring grass.

Memories of long ago Sunday mornings spent with another beloved mare were especially sweet as I sat with my girl.

Amy and Pokey, 1974 or 1975.

My Pasture Ornament

Pasture ornament. Yep, that describes Abby, at least currently. 

 I visit her and give her carrots and treats, but I don't ride her or do much else. 

It's partly because I am, in some ways, still recovering from double knee replacement surgery along with a busy schedule.

Abby crunches a carrot.

But pasture ornament or not, I am so glad to have a horse again, especially my sassy girl, Abby.

Keep on eating those carrots, babe. You deserve them.

Ouch! My Nose!

As soon as I arrived at the barn tonight, the heads popped up and everyone made a beeline from the old barn up to the trough, hoping for a handout. Abby, of course, got the most treats.

As I was parceling them out among all those stretched out noses, I noticed poor Dolly had had an accident.

It's not a bad injury; nevertheless I took this picture and texted Tim so he could check her. She probably banged her nose against a fence post or something.

It certainly didn't keep her from begging for more sugar cubes!