Sunday, November 6, 2011
Cowgirl Eventer
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Let's Get Controversial - Why I'm Pro-Slaughter
Saturday, September 24, 2011
The Perfect Show Mom
I could not find a single picture of my mother at a horse show; do you know why? Because she was behind the cameras, video and still, at every single one of them. It is classic in the field of family vacations - mothers excluded from most of the pictures because they are the ones taking them all, but in my life it carried over to horse shows. I am extremely blessed in many ways, but the blessing I would like to focus on today is how supportive my family, especially my mom, has always been about my horses and showing. Friday, September 23, 2011
Ditches and Banks and Water Oh My!
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Fantastic Clinic
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Great Dressage Lesson
Friday, September 16, 2011
Too Late for Goodbye
You had your chance. You took to long,
Like you always do. I won't wait for you.
It's not a game. It's not your choice.
It must be strange to hear my voice,
Saying don't come back this time.
It's too late for goodbye.
The Pony I Never Had
From my first lesson it was planned that I would be an eventer, it is the barn my parents chose when they were looking at buying me lessons for my birthday. As soon as I learned to trot around correctly I learned to canter, as soon as I learned to canter I was taught to jump. By the time my parents bought me my first horse I was coursing cross country fences in the back field and taking dressage lessons with the dressage clinician who was brought in every month. Eventing and showing is what I was taught to do from day one and I wouldn't trade my background for the world. All of my western-raised friends find it so funny though how uncomfortable I can be in a western saddle and how foreign the thought of riding without a real purpose (showing) is to me. Well I now have found the joy in riding a "broke-not-trained" horse (this is what we call a horse that is broke to death but never ridden in a true program/arena environment). The funny thing is that I've found this joy in a 13.2 hand grey former hog-hunting pony package! Yes, laugh it up - I am 5'8" tall and absolutely LOVE riding this little pony. We got her to teach lessons on about three weeks ago from a lady who had her as a barrel and poles horse for her child; prior to this my little Lacy pony was a hog huntin' fool down in Louisiana (no, I'm not kidding). One of the first days she was at the farm Elizabeth had me tack Lacy up in western tack (since that's what she is used to) and take her out - I had a blast! For the last couple weeks I've been trail riding this little pony head and am (finally) actually feeling comfortable in western tack. Today I hopped on her bareback - I've never had a horse that I could literally hop on bareback from the ground! This may have to be my chuck wagon racing pony next year - Snowy River Race competitors watch out! LOL!
Thursday, September 15, 2011
First Gallop & XC School = Success!
Custom Cross Country Vest = $250Wednesday, September 14, 2011
My Kinda Roper (another video - I apologize!)
Naughty Pony!
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
What a Pro...
Monday, September 12, 2011
My New Man
I guess it's about time I introduce the new man in my life: Dixie Demon (aka Flint). When I started my job at Hickory Hills Flint had been there for about six months; Elizabeth bought him off of a high school girl who had gotten him off the track to be her next Young Rider horse. Flint proved to be a bit more of a project than the girl wanted to take on at the time (he has the tendency to be a little naughty/opinionated sometimes), so Elizabeth bought him and turned him out for a few months before starting him back slowly through natural horsemanshipmethods. By the time I got there he was really starting to make the turning point in his training where he was beginning to realize that a.) humans were in charge and b.) he was not. Haha - you know me, I like my guys a little head strong and somewhat emotional basket cases! From the first tim
e I saw him on the lunge line I knew that the horse needed to be an eventer - the way he carries himself, his trot, his canter, his gallop; it's all there. The horse is sup

Sunday, September 11, 2011
Saturday, September 10, 2011
How Naive I Was
To be completely honest with you, ten years ago I had no idea what the impact of September 11, 2001 would be on our nation, our world. I was a Sophomore at Little Rock Lutheran High School; I remember running late to first period and people talking about some explosion (remember, I'm in central time) in the World Trade Center. Honestly, at the time I didn't even realize the "World Trade Center" and the "Twin Towers" were the same. We went through first period fairly normal; it wasn't really until after first period that we all really started realizing the enormity of the situation. I remember getting home from school to see my mom sitting on the bed watching the news. She had not moved since my dad had called her to tell her to turn on the news that morning. I wish I could say that I understood, that I got it; but I didn't - I actually went to my riding lesson that afternoon. It wasn't until the following days, after I heard the "whole story," that it started to dawn on me the impact of September 11, 2001. My little naive 15 year old brain took a several days to comprehend that not only did 2,000 people lose their lives but that several of those lives lost were the terrorists responsible for it all. I didn't understand the whole suicide bomber thing - my world was tiny. My world revolved around Little Rock, my family, my friends and my horse; I didn't believe that such loyal hate could exist. I especially couldn't believe that it would cross the strong threshold of the United States. Looking back, I guess you can say that September 11 was my first glimpse of mortality.Sunday, September 4, 2011
Ropers and Ranchers and Cowboys Oh My!
Oh do I love the Chuck Wagon Races... Thursday, September 1, 2011
A Page from an 87 year old Horsewoman's Journal
I ride. That seems like such a simple statement. However as many women who ride know, it is really a complicated matter. It has to do with power and empowerment. Being able to do things you might have once considered out of reach or ability. I have considered this as I shovel manure, fill water barrels in the cold rain, wait for the vet/farrier/electrician/hay delivery, change a tire on a horse trailer by the side of the freeway, or cool a gelding out before getting down to the business of drinking a cold beer after a long ride.
The time, the money, the effort it takes to ride calls for dedication. At least I call it dedication. Both my ex-husbands call it 'the sickness'. It's a sickness I've had since I was a small girl bouncing my model horses and dreaming of the day I would ride a real horse. Most of the women I ride with understand the meaning of 'the sickness'. It's not a sport. It's not a hobby. It's what we do and, in some ways, who we are as women and human beings.
I ride. I hook up my trailer and load my gelding. I haul to some trailhead somewhere, unload, saddle, whistle up my dog and I ride. I breathe in the air, watch the sunlight filter through the trees and savor the movement of my horse. My shoulders relax. A smile rides my sunscreen smeared face. I pull my ball cap down and let the real world fade into the tracks my horse leaves in the dust.
Time slows. Flying insects buzz loudly, looking like fairies. My gelding flicks his ears and moves down the trail. I can smell his sweat and it is perfume to my senses. Time slows. The rhythm of the walk and the movement of the leaves become my focus. My saddle creaks and the leather rein in my hand softens with the warmth.
I consider the simple statement; I ride. I think of all I do because I ride. Climb granite slabs, wade into a freezing lake, race a friend through the Manzanita all the while laughing and feeling my heart in my chest. Other days just the act of mounting and dismounting can be a real accomplishment. Still I ride, no matter how tired or how much my seat bones or any of the numerous horse related injuries hurt. I ride. And I feel better for doing so.
The beauty I've seen because I ride amazes me. I've ridden out to find lakes that remain for the most part, unseen. Caves, dark and cold beside rivers full and rolling are the scenes I see in my dreams. The Granite Stairway at Echo Summit, bald eagles on the wing and bobcats on the prowl add to the empowerment and joy in my heart.
I think of the people, mostly women, I've met. I consider how competent they all are. Not a weenie amongst the bunch.. We haul 40ft rigs, we back into tight spaces without clipping a tree. We set up camp. Tend the horses. We cook and keep safe. We understand and love our companions, the horse. We respect each other and those we encounter on the trail. We know that if you are out there riding, you also shovel, fill, wait and doctor. Your hands are a little rough and you travel without makeup or hair gel. You do without to afford the 'sickness' and probably, when you were a small girl, you bounced a model horse while you dreamed of riding a real one.
"My treasures do not chink or glitter, They gleam in the sun and neigh in the night".



