Ivydell's Journal

Yoga for Riders
I don't particularly enjoy the yoga sessions - our teacher is cruel and unusual - but I am amazed at what a difference it is making in my "feel". Today when I rode my vivacious pony, I could tell where her feet were, kept her travelling with her body straight, and we actually walked in an area where she normally jigs.
This is good stuff!

Current Mood: cheerful
Current Music: William Tell Overature

Fast Food, way back then -
Although I qualify as older than dirt, we DID have a couple of fast-food places in Olympia when I was growing up. One was the A&W Root Beer Drive-In. The others belonged to the Egan family, and they were little things where a car could drive right up to the window on either side. Those of us who worked there would open the window and take their order, cook it, hand it out, get the money and give their change. We had a cash register with number buttons on it, and we had to be able to count change!!!!!

A regular hamburger (they were heavenly!) consisted of a bun, toasted face-down on the grill, a skinny little piece of hamburger, goop, 3 round pickles, and chopped onions. They were 35 cents, 37 with tax.

Did I mention that they were DELICIOUS? The root beer floats from A&W were pretty awesome, too. The mugs were kept in a freezer and you usually got wet when the frosty mug dripped while you were slurping up your float.

Now that was some AWESOME food.

Current Mood: nostalgic
Current Music: Something from the 60's

The incredible flying pony
Isabell did a cute and horrifying thing this morning. I was outside wrestling with fence panels, because Shadow (former raging stallion, now teensy gelding) had crashed into the panels repeatedly in his attempts to kill Rocky. Rocky shows his contempt by standing ten feet inside the panel fence, sneering.
As a result, my formerly lovely panels look like not so loverly pretzels/so I was rearranging the furniture, er panels. I had moved Shadow to Rocky's grazing pen, which is near the goat pen & fenced with a single strand of electric tape. Interestingly, Shadow doesn't crash into one strand of electric tape. Cunning fellow!
So there I was, disassembling the panel fence and the mares were in the barn, weeping most piteously because they wanted to get out and eat grass - weak from hunger, you know. I took pity on them; let them out and after milling around for a bit, they took off for the back 40. Izzy didn't thunder in the right direction and ended up in the pen behind the barn where I was working. Unable to find her way out, she continued to thunder around seeking an exit. I had blocked the exit by piling some panels on the ground, so being the silly Connemara girl she is, she made a perfect 20 meter circle, then sailed over the panels, which not only scared the bejesus out of me (didn't want any of her legs to end up jammed in the panels) but also my goodness, the panels are 4 or 5' high, and there were two of them and a broken-off fence post in an untidy pile.
If only I'd had a camera or VCR.
It was a prodigious leap, and effortless on her part!

Current Mood: impressed
Current Music: Sailing

It's About Breathing
This morning I attended a yoga seminar, followed up by applying the principles learned in the yoga lesson while on horseback. It was very revealing, because every movement you make on a horse's back, the horse can feel, even something as minor as turning your head to look at something. I was focused on breathing and having my back parallel to the horses back. Well, actually not mathematically parallel, but the principle is that if you twist your torso or carry your weight off center, or if you slouch, it makes the horse twist and wiggle. Since I ride a very twisty, wiggly horse, it was interesting to have her relax and move in a straight (non-wiggly) line.

Since I am only 62, and have only been riding for a little over 50 years, I am hopeful that I will get the hang of this dressage thing. When I was a kid, we didn't have fancy things like riding lessons or saddles, and I developed a great sense of balance through my guerilla-riding tactics.

Poor Gypsy!

Taming the wild stallion
Shadow had his feet trimmed this morning. I had been petting him, brushing him, and picking up his feet twice a day trying to convince him I'm not an ogre. Yesterday I sort of panicked about the fact that my farrier is about 100 years old and I didn't want the raging stallion to kill him, so I dashed to the vet's office and got a shot of Xylazine to "take the edge off".
After injecting myself, I felt much calmer.

KIDDING!

I gave Shadow 2cc and I don't know if it made any difference or not, but we got through his first trim, at age 11, with minimal fuss.

I need to get some more photos of him now that he spends his time out with the girls. He has lost weight, but I am feeding him MUCH MORE than anyone else gets, and I have good pasture, so I expect he'll pick up soon.

His hock is swollen from charging up and down the fence threatening to kill Rocky, so I've been putting "sore-no-more" on it twice a day. In spite of his life as an essentially wild horse, he is very quiet by nature, and when I do something he finds odd or unusual, he will stop chewing while he observes and considers.

I like him more every day. He is a real sweetheart.

Current Mood: content
Current Music: "The Tennessee Stud"

Aging Gracefully
Dear Family, Friends, In-laws and Outlaws,

Today I am 62. I am bewildered to have achieved such an ancient age. I really think I am 42, but my daughter has assured me this is not the case.

I retired in 1994 from the Air Force, and rushed out and got a job. Now I have retired again after 15 years with the State of Florida, and this time I plan to spend my time lounging on my tempurpedic mattress, eating chocolates and reading magazines.

This morning Detlef presented me with a suitably mushy card, a silver necklace featuring a silver horse, and a book called, "Florida on Horseback" which maps out locations where there are designated and safe riding trails. The book advises riders to wear a hat and sunblock, and carry a compass, cell phone, GPS, and of course water!
He is either a truly thoughtful man, or he has decided it is time for me to ride off into the sunset.

After feeding critters, we went for a bike ride on the beautiful Blountstown Greenway - a total of 8 miles, and thank GOD, most of the Greenway is shaded by overhanging trees. We started at Sam Atkins Park and rode to the Apalachicola River and back. The hardest part is the last two-tenths mile, which is uphill and in the sun. I was forced to downshift and sweat. We rode early, but that last two-tenths always nearly kills me, especially in 90 degree heat and 90% humidity. Well, and this is my first time on the bike trail since I got so old.

Shortly after we got back home, the mail arrived, and included was a package from my dear sister Vivian. She sent two books, hoping to improve my mind, and she also sent me a PARTY - dangly decorations, candles, sparkler thingies, cups, napkins and paper plates, all with the dreaded Flamingo theme. Hmmmm. I thought we had sworn a truce on the Flamingo issue. I am plotting my revenge even now.

D. just came in the house and announced it's time for showers and application of cosmetics and clothing, as he is taking me to the big city for fine dining, followed by a John Tesh Concert.

We shall conduct ourselves with age-appropriate decorum, and may you all age gracefully!

Love, Julie Annie

Current Mood: happy
Current Music: Silver Threads Among Gold

There and back again -
We made it to Tennessee with one horse, Ivydell Annabel and returned with a different one, an Arabian stallion named BR Dream Shadow. The trip was about 450 miles in each direction.
On the trip north, It took an hour to travel about seven miles south of Birmingham - I assume there had been a wreck, but we never quite figured it out. Then closer to the state line we went through a pretty frightening storm complete with swirling dust, black skies and lightening. That was another extra hour going VERY SLOW. We did make it to our destination just as it was getting dark.
Fortunately we made better time on the return drive, probably because it was downhill.
Shadow was a very good boy on the journey, and we were blessed with cooler than usual weather and misty rain all the way home, all night last night and even today it is cool and misty.
We got him unloaded easily, and his first interest was in GRASS. Once I got him out to his pen, the other horses came up, and there was a lot of squealing, posturing and manly strutting, but overall, everything seemed to be okay last night.
This morning, I walked out the door to call the girls up, and the first thing my eyes beheld was the double aluminum gate lying on the ground. Amazingly, he hadn't gone over it, and none of the girls had gone in with him, so I got them into stalls for their meager bite of breakfast. I went in with Shadow to see if he would eat a little grain or let me touch him, and it was yes to both, but he just had a nibble.
Detlef and I propped the gate back up, then moved two pipe panels into place to make a more imposing barrier.
When I turned the girls back out, I saw who the troublemaker was - as Detlef pointed out, Isabell was "presenting". Fortunately the girls didn't hang around to torment the new guy, instead they all took of like bats out of a belfry tower and are now at the back of the pasture, looking suspicious. Even old Princess galloped wildly along with the herd!
So - now poor lonely Shadow is trotting to and fro, digging a trench along the fence at the back of his pen. There's a hay field between him and the rest of the gang. His pen is about an acre, and he has grass, water, hay and even shelter if he should choose to go under the overhang on the back of the barn.
It will get better.

Current Mood: tired
Current Music: The Tennessee Stud

Old Dog; New Tricks
Dressage is hard.

It requires you to be aware of and control your your own body. A horse can feel every little shift of a rider's weight or even something a simple as turning your head, which affects your other body parts, including changing your balance and moving your butt bones independently, and one leg will go slightly forward and one slightly back. If you doubt this consider the following: a horse can feel a fly landing, and will immediately respond by a twitch of the skin, stomp of a foot, or lash of the tail.

What makes it really hard for for those of us who have been riding forty years is that we have had so much practice at carrying our weight off center or off balance, it feels natural. Sitting still and with your weight evenly balanced feels unnatural. I have been helped a great deal by a chiropractor (and I fear chiropractors). She made me taller and even made my legs the same length.

I ride with my stirrups the same length now, after about many years of the right stirrup always being longer than the left. I also have learned to sit in the middle of the saddle and keep my lower legs back. Instructions to keep your heels down were drilled into me as a child, so I pushed my feet forward, out of alignment of the hip and ear. I still struggle with the ear-hip-heel alignment, because of my conformation. My thigh is 2 inches longer than my lower leg. As a result, I ride a rather large size dressage saddle to accomodate that oddly long thigh, and it's still hard to keep feet under.

Dressage is about getting more with less. It's really about being kinder to the horse, because instead of making them do stuff, you permit them to do stuff.

Current Mood: contemplative

Among the interesting things my job entails I am required to attend several meetings in the community.
I recently attended a meeting of the board of county commissioners. They have a nice meeting room with US Flag and Florida Flag properly placed behind the Chairman, and above his head, an elegant county logo, which is to remind us that we are only a just a few inches from Heaven (or Hell).
The chairman, another commissioner and their advising attorney were nattily attired in elegant, well-fitted suits. The rest of the commissioners were attired in whatever they found on the floor that morning, judging from their appearance. I didn't see anyone wearing bib overalls, although when their mouths opened and discussion began, the corn was as high as an elephant's eye.
I attended because my supervisor was on the agenda to to read a proclamation regarding Public Health Week (which it was). Based on what followed, I think he should hold off until mental health week.
We began with a prayer and flag salute, and the chairman called the meeting to order. For a little while I was impressed with two things - one was how boring the meeting was, and the other was how well they followed Robert's Rules of Order. The first few agenda items were opening and reading sealed bids from vendors. I got to hear the specifications of all sorts of petroleum products and lubricants for the county fleet.
The pace picked up when a spirited discussion about the relative merits of lime rock vs dolomite for road beds caused the supervisor of the department of roads and two of the commissioners to become passionate to the point of first names and cuss words. Based on their countenances, I expected that soon somebody was going to have a stroke, or a hockey game would soon break out. Faces in the room became very colorful, mostly having turned unnatural looking shades of magenta.
This went on for about an hour, and the secretary asked for a five minute break to replace the tape in her recording machine. During the break, most of us who were present chatted pleasantly with our neighbors. The roads guy got a drink of water and became visibly calmer and less colorful.
When the gavel came down again, verbal fisticuffs resumed.
After another hour of passionate disagreement about rocks, I decided Public Health Week could be proclaimed without my presence. I patted my supervisor reassuringly on the shoulder, and took my leave.
When I asked him the next day if he had been permitted to read his proclamation, he said yes, but that the fireworks became even more fiery after I left.
. . . . just a few more weeks, and I will be a woman of leisure.

Current Mood: excited
Current Music: Theme from Beverly Hillbillies

Update on Princess's Teeth
I frequently lecture people about how inexpensive it is to keep horses, as long as one has sufficient pasture.

As I mentioned in a previous entry, Acona Princess is now 29 years old. Last winter she didn't look great, and last summer, she never really shed out her wooly coat, so in a recent attack of guilt and/or responsibility, I had our favorite vet, Dr. George, examine her teeth. He pronounced them unsatisfactory, or to be exact, he said, "her teeth are terrible!". So I made an appointment to take her to his place in Chipley for some dental work.

He has a BEAUTIFUL new clinic, complete with covered examination areas for large animals and a swanky multi-room indoor facility for small animals. Poor man - he will have to be a veterinary surgeon until he's 190 to pay for such elegance.

Dee and I took Princess there and comforted her whilst she was sedated. Then we lead into the "dental chair" and Dr. G commenced grinding her back teeth with a long, long, long electric drill. During the process, he pulled three of her molars. They were essentially rotting in place, so pulling them didn't take much effort. I brought them home and soaked them in bleach for a few days, then dried them off and put one in a velvet jewelry bag, which I delivered to Deloris one morning at Church.

I may have the other two made into earrings or something.

Then followed ten days of hosing out Princess's mouth with an antibiotic solution. Within about three days she had perked up and now her coat looks better, her step is livlier, she is eating hay (she hasn't eaten any hay for a few years) and she seems downright cheerful.

I guess she will live to be 39. I hope so, because the procedure cost more than she is worth, and I would hate to have to be the one to tell Dee that she has gone to the big pasture in the sky!

I hope you and your teeth are well.

Current Mood: joyful
Current Music: Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring

Philosophy and the Future
I have been working at my present place of employment, which I fondly refer to as the House of Horrors, for two years, and I see a light at the end of the tunnel. I plan to retire at the first of June or end of May. If I live until June, I will be 62 and eligible for State Retirement AND Social Security, if there is any left of either.
I have been working for the state for almost 15 years. I'm not quite sure how that happened; it seems to have gone by in a blur.
As most of you know, I started working for the State right after I retired from the Air Force. At that time, I wasn't planning another career; just adhering to my mother's motto: If you don't work, you don't eat! Well, and also I have known people who retired from the Air Force and then spent a year lying on the couch watching TV, drinking beer and waiting for someone to offer them the job as CEO of something or other. Either that, or croaking within a few months from the stress of not being important any more.
I am looking forward to being unimportant! I don't think I'll need as much money if I don't have to drive to work, buy lunch or wear clothes.
Hopefully, the horses, dogs, goats, kitties, chickens, and bunnies won't mind eating less. I may have to start feeding them to one another.
If I find myself longing for an identity or money, I suppose I'll start on another career.
Meanwhile I am praying my mother's favorite prayer, "GIVE ME STRENGTH".

Current Mood: pensive

The year of the tooth
I heard you were at the dentist on Wednesday. Detlef and I both have appointments coming up soon.

Guess that I shouldn't have been surprised that in addition to other vet work she needed, our poor old (29) Arabian mare needed dental care. Dee and I took her Chipley, and Dr. G not only did the grinding with his high-speed whirligig drill that I had expected, he also pulled three of her back teeth. Sadly, it didn’t take much pulling to get them out, as they were wiggley and pretty much only held in place by accumulated crud and calculus. His fee for services exceeded the value of the old horse, but alas, it’s like having kids – an obligation.

For the next 9 days, I am instructed to clean out the places where the teeth were removed with an antibiotic solution. Doc gave me an enormous srynge and an 18” tube to attach it, with instructions to stick it in her mouth and squirt in the tooth removal sites, thereby removing any feed or other crud that has packed in. He said if I can’t manage the syringe, to use a garden hose.

Poor Princess!

Poor me!

Current Music: All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth!

Goats Galore
We have a rather rag-tag gaggle of goats. Their primary purpose is providing low carbon dioxide emission weed removal. I have been milking the darling girl known as "Scratty". She is the only one who didn't get a human name, poor thing. I try to remember to call her Sally, but oh well.

She's not providing milk her for the house, although goat milk is lovely stuff, very sweet and creamy. I was being helpful to accomodate her two baby kids. They found it easier to drink from a dish to being stompled by Mommy Dearest. I milked her morning and afternoon for three weeks. By that time, they had watched what I was doing often enough that I figured they could do it themselves.
Meanwhile, I got kicked, stomped, shoved, and suffered considerable other abuse from her. I told her next time shes shows a lack of appreciation, she'll just have milk herself.

Harumph!

Current Music: Old MacDonald Had a Farm - EIEIO!

Reflections on Zucchini
My husband is a obsessive organic gardener, so we always have something growing in the garden, at times so much that we haul bags to the rescue mission or to church to give away.

I love zucchini, and include it as an extra ingredient in some foods you wouldn't expect. It is great to toss chunks into spaghetti sauce. I suppose that sounds odd, but hey, consider the source!

Of course, there is ratatouie, which requires olive oil, garlic, eggplant, tomatoes and whatever other summer squash is in the garden, sauted and YUMMY.

Since it's winter, the garden is full of cabbages, broccoli, kohlrabi, lettuce, radishes, and collards. Since I am originally from the Pacific Northwest, I recoil from collards, but the goats and bunnies seem to like them. Is this considered animal abuse?

Poverty Looms, and Riding Rocky
Dr. George was here this morning to do annual animal stuff - Coggins tests on the horses, shots for the dogs, and so forth. Then the farmer and I went to town to buy a new fangled TV set that will be able to get the digital signal and high-resolution picture that is coming in February. Now that we have it home, it seems we need more and/or different cables, and oh drat, our DVD player is too ancient to be compatible.

It has been an expensive day, but I shall follow the example set by our government and print myself some more money. If that doesn't work, I'll have to keep working until I'm 102. I'd prefer to retire while I am still able to hoist myself upon a horse. My ancient horse trailer has been rehabilitated with a new floor, new paneling inside, and a little exterior cosmetic paint and patching. It should be good for another 10 or 20 years!

Doc said that Rocky isn't going to be sound forever, because of some issues he has with his pasterns and hocks, but to go ahead and trail ride him while he's young. I haven't been lunging him, because of the aforementioned p's and h's, but riding him takes considerable determination, because unless he has another horse along to be his pilot, his feet seem to adhere to the ground. I have saddled and "ridden" him a few times without a companion/leader, and it's exhausting. He is immune to kicking, clucking and flogging. My most successful solo rides have required me to lead him out to a stump in the back 40, so I can crawl on him bareback. He finds going back to the barn to be quite acceptable.

Almost a lovely ride
Winter weather in the Florida Panhandle is crazy. One week we have 20 degree mornings, followed by a week with lows in the 60's and highs that can be quite balmy.
I took advantage of one of those warm mornings by going for a little ride. Because of the warmer weather, I foolishly assumed I wouldn't have to deal with the cold weather crazies. Alas, Poppy alternated her behavior from jackass to racehorse and back. She is a pony in size(14-1hands and VERY BROAD) Connemara/TBX who has inherited the stubbornness of the Connemara and the excitable temperament of the Thorobred. I'm pretty sure that when people breed Connemaras to Thorobreds, their intention is to get the size and long legs of the Thorobred along with the milder disposition of the Connemara.
As I said, Poppy can be both stubborn and excitable. She is usually agreeable to ride if she has a companion, especially if it's her beloved Zenie (Arab mare, and the other alpha), but hates to go out by herself.
I am just as stubborn, but not particularly excitable. After a half-mile of her refusing to budge, alternating with twirling excitement, I dismounted and lead her for away from home for about a mile. I was determined not to give in and go home until I was ready. Then, since I was riding treeless and she was not cooperating, I had to find a log to stand on to remount. Treeless saddles can slip, especially when you are trying to get on an flouncy, bouncy, and witherless, barrel-shaped mare.
For the rest of my ride, she was angelic.
Since she's so grumpy about leaving home alone, next time I want to take her out alone, I guess I'll just hook up the trailer, load her up, and drive a few miles away, then unload and ride back.

Current Mood: determined

UFO Sighting
My dear cousin Judy, who refers to herself as Juju and to me as Juju2 reminded me of our UFO sighting.
How could I forget! It was in 1977 - I was in the Air Force, just back from England, and was driving my new Dodge Colt to my next assignment, which was George Air Force Base in Victorville, California.
I do remember our "UFO" sighting, and remember we were both a bit uneasy about it. I'm not sure if the fact that we had been imbibing had anything to do with it. It seemed that an unusually large star was sort of following us around as we drove back to Brookings from Gold Beach. Or somewhere.
I also recall that each time I said I was leaving, Juju1 would drag me out for a going-away celebration, force me to partake of spiritus fermenti, and carouse until the wee small hours of the next morning. Then SHE would get up and go to work. I woke late one morning after a night of debauchery and stealthily fled, before she could return and take me out for another good-by drinkie.
I only made it as far as - hmmm, was it Eureka? I checked into a Motel 6 at about 4PM, and slept soundly, sans celebration.
Ah youth!

Current Mood: nostalgic
Current Music: Something by the Rolling Stones

Oh what an invigorating morning!
Hey look - the old woman can still ride. (you'll probably have to copy and paste this lengthy link into your browser) www.kodakgallery.com/ShareLandingSignin.jsp?c=of7z3i1.5rrak7h&Uy=344ovk&Upost_signin=Slideshow.jsp%3Fmode%3Dfromshare&Ux=0&UV=225113707849_42004401813&localeid=en_US

As you can probably tell, Poppy was living up to her name, but it was our first cool morning, first trail ride in several months, and she seldom is ridden without her best friend Zenie along to comfort her. Her attitude was definitely, "Let's get this over with in a hurry!"
We mostly trotted, but we walked some too, and our canter was several notches beyond a hand gallop - I'd call it, "Hey, my mother was a race horse so I want to be a race horse too!"
It was an invigorating morning, and Poppy was her usual bouncy self. Fun! Well - all except the part where the dump truck guy nearly ran us down.
Having wonderful time - it's the most beautiful day of the year.

Current Mood: chipper
Current Music: William Tell Overture

Miss Lonelyheart
Message to my husband while he was out of town -

Hi Sweetie (and sisters of Sweetie)

I have fed the beasties, unhitched the horse trailer, let out the goats & fetched the paper. I will be hopping in the shower soon and then off to church. I'll probably stay after for coffee and sympathy.

I was exhausted yesterday after attending the natural horsemanship clinic. Being almost as hard-headed as a Dutchman, I decided to take Isabell, who is only two and had never been in the trailer before. We had a lot of natural and unnatural horsemanship practice in the hour it took me to get her loaded without assistance and against her will.

I'm glad you are enjoying the kids & that Whitney is such a good baby. Do they call him Whitney? I didn't think Chris ever called anyone by their christened name (get it - "Chris"-ened?) so I usually don't know who he is talking about when he refers to Deet or Tweet or whomever. Funny, Vivian used to do the same thing, but I always knew who she was referring to. She called me "Bratinella" until she had children, then I was promoted to "Aunt Brat". It was a relief when I joined the Air Force and she took to calling me "Airman Aunt". For many years she called our mother "Magda", mostly to be annoying, I suspect. It got so people would answer to whatever she called them. Oh, and of course her husband was "KP". I think she has stopped doing that . . . . .

Our bicycles are puzzled. They don't understand why they are confined to quarters, can't go out to play, and don't get to go for their weekly spin on the greenway.

Be seizing you soon ~

Current Mood: lonely
Current Music: No music, just heavy sighs

Why we don't travel
Although I am smitten with Sarah Palin, I am almost as weary of politics as of hurricane warnings and tropical depressions.
Detlef is planning a trip to Minnesota to visit one of his sisters, then to North Dakota to visit his son & family, which includes a GREAT grandson. He is worried about impending hurricanes, because if flights are canceled because of weather, well, too bad, the airlines consider it an act of God.

I went with him to North Dakota about ten years ago, and our return trip was interrupted because of a hurricane. We spent one night sleeping on plastic chairs in the Memphis airport because of flight cancellations. Since Memphis is a convention city, there wasn't a motel room to be had. It was a memorably uncomfortable night!

We got on the only flight that went from Memphis to the Florida Panhandle the next day, and it was an exceedingly bouncy one. As we were landing (at the wrong airport; Fort Walton Beach) it got very quiet. When the wheels touched down, the crowd went wild as everyone on board burst into cheers and applause. THEN we rented a car and had a wet and wild drive to the airport in Panama City to pick up our car.

We went to my cousin Jan's place in Brookings on Detlef's 50th birthday, where he met my family members for the first time. They greeted him with black balloons and armbands and gloomy looks to acknowledge his ancient age. BUT I digress - when we returned from that trip, Hurricane Arnold had descended on us and Highway 231 was impassable because the storm surge had water in Bayou George backed across the road.

Then there was a cruise in 92 - we didn't get to land on Cocoa Cay because of wind and big waves. Royal Carribean wouldn't risk transferring passengers from the ship to the little tenders that were supposed to take us to our snorkeling and picnicking paradise.

I prefer earthquakes to hurricanes, and meanwhile, I'll stay home!

Current Mood: complacent
Current Music: Home, home on the range -

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