blurry

I never got around to posting pictures of the horses because they all came out terrible, and after the first couple days, the novelty of running around with my camera pretending to be a photographer ran out. But here are a couple of blurry ones from dinnertime one night. The white guy is my pal, Banjo, and the black one is Stevie (named for Stevie Nicks, btw). There are three others who, unfortunately, won't be represented here.


And one last pic of Taylor and Turbo, my constant companions while I was on the farm. They are the cutest, sweetest things I've ever seen. I really wanted to take them home with me.


So, now comes the fun part--packing the suitcase and getting ready for the overnight bus ride. I'm ready to be home, although that feels a little suspect since I only lived in my apartment a week before I came here. I'm no where near unpacked, so it's going to be a little stressful when I get back. And before I know it, school again. Hoping I can pack a little more summer into these last two weeks.

Anyway, good-bye Ohio, I'll miss you dearly. But not as badly as last August.

Let's call it a residency

So here I am, on the farm. It's not house sitting, it's a mini-residency with horse privileges.
I'm the luckiest girl in the world.
I might never go back to Chicago.

This is where I'll be spending most of my time.
And this is the view from the front door.
And this is Taylor and Turbo, who have been right there guarding the driveway ever since their people left. I imagine they'll stay right there until they come back. Pictures of the horses coming soon.

Forgive me for not staying, I'm off to breathe in the clean, country air.

A girl and her (borrowed) horse

I said goodbye to Banjo (and his "mom," Karla) last night. I've really, really enjoyed re-learning how to handle and ride this horse and I'm going to miss it immensely when I'm gone. It's strange to say that, I suppose, since I haven't made time to get out to the farm since last August--but I know it's there and if I have a free evening, I can give Karla a call and be in the barn in just over an hour. But not in Chicago. I suppose I might be lucky enough to find someone with a few horses and enough patience to teach a clumsy horse lover, but they won't have the beautiful views of south-eastern Ohio like the one below.

Oh, and speaking of clumsy...I had my first fall last night. Flew right out of the damn saddle. Luckily, I'm good at falling, and today, all I have to show for it are a couple of bruises and a sore knee. As I sat there in the dust, looking up at Banjo (who looks, um, well, massive when you're on the ground), all I could think about was the good old cliche about falling off and getting back in the saddle. You know, things can only become cliche if they're true, right? So even though I was shaking and sore, I got back up and rode again. And I'm not even a little bit scared to do it again.

oh, my achin' bones

I'm having a bit of trouble getting motivated today. Yesterday was an exhausting day. I did manage to groom all five horses in the time before Karla got home, and then I practiced posting. Posting involves core strength and inner thigh muscles and today, everything below my ribs is sore. Actually, everything is sore.

But I don't mean to whine. It's a good kind of sore, but the kind where you don't want to go teach.

Today, we're talking about Helen Keller. I'm going to make them try to describe their home without using sight or sound.

You know when you're a kid and you ask your friends really morbid questions, like would you rather be blind or deaf? I always said blind. Now I'm not so sure.

Horse feet are heavy

I learned a new skill last night. How to use a hoof-pick.

As the title suggests, this is not so easy. I admit, I'm not a strong girl. I spend a lot of time with my nose in a book, which doesn't build strong muscles. Well, when my new best friend Banjo doesn't want his hooves picked, he'll let me pick up his feet, but then he'll just hang them there, letting me hold all the weight of his massive leg in one arm. I. Am. So. Sore.

I almost slept through my alarm this morning because I was so tired from my horse-play last night, then when I got home, I took a 3 hour nap (after taking a couple extra-strength pain relievers) and I still feel like I just ran a triathalon. I guess poetry isn't good for your health.

Karla, the owner of Banjo and friends, told me last night to make sure that my helping her in the barn wasn't interfering with my school work. I told her not to worry, that it was good for me to "get out of my head" every once in a while. Anyone else feel like this...like good hard labor is the only way to get your brain to slow down for a minute? Maybe there's a better strategy--one that won't leave me bow-legged for the next three days?