Monday afternoon my Mom forwarded an email to me. A woman had emailed her asking if Mom had a daughter who had won a horse in a raffle…
Prize is still alive! She’s 23 and living in Chapel Hill, 10 miles from where I live. I’m going to call the lady tonight and go see my old girl this weekend.
I can’t believe she is still around.
Life has been hectic, to say the least. The new job I started in January has been good, but it’s a lot more time and focus than my previous gig. Also more travel: I’ve visited Miami, Malaga in Spain, and soon San Francisco. No complaints. It is fun and interesting work, if a bit stressful…
The vet said that Isis could indeed begin having grain again. She is allowed a cup of grain two to three times per day along with a quarter cup of corn oil morning and evening. I have my doubts whether Isis will actually eat the corn oil. She has objected before to things being in…
This poem was written in 1994 at a point when I was going through a traumatic time: financial difficulties, 8 funerals in 18 months (including my Dad), and then the worst of all… Losing my horse. I felt your breath soft on my neck myriad memories tickling my mind like whiskers falling from clippers Luminous…
In 2006, a friend of mine sent me a link to a YouTube video of the international WEG2006 Freestyle Dressage Final at Aachen. A big grey mare gave a performance that was truly inspired and had the audience clapping and rooting for her. (HIGHLY unusual — dressage tests are about as loud as a tennis…
This is just too cool! Mom emailed me today and said that she has pictures of my foal, who is still in utero. You know how doctors can take pictures of babies using ultrasound? Well apparently her vet did the same type of thing with Sabbath, the mare who is in foal to Sirdar. Mom…
My friend Kat suggested a song for Isis: Hole’s Heaven Tonight. Some of the lyrics seemed very appropriate. Here comes a sign in the form of a girl She’s the finest, sweetest thing in the world Oh, take you to Heaven tonight I feel the horses coming galloping In the summer’s end Take you…