Jerome the Gnome

You know when you get something stuck in your head and you just can't let it go? Most of the time - for me, at least - it's a lyric. I'll think it over and over again in my head trying with all my power to not verbalize it because then the problem gets worse. Just ask Tyler. The story of what he calls our 'first date' (which it was not, by the way) is most unfortunately tied to one such incident - but that's a story for another time. . . maybe.

For the past, let's say, four or five years I've been trying to not give in to my inner child on this one particular issue. I had a stroke of genius, even if it was immature. Whether or not I actually caved or simply changed my mind is all gray area. Let's just say if the nagging 'brilliant idea' I've been putting off were a song, I've sung it out loud now and I'm threatening to do it again, and again, and again.

This is an area we ride at the ranch called the 'Enchanted Forrest'. Oooh, Ahhh. Enchanting, no? The majority of the property is covered in aspens, but when you enter 'The Enchanted Forrest' it's like you're riding into a Fairy Tale. A kind of dark one. Snow White, Hansel and Gretel, you know. It feels ancient, captivatingly beautiful, and a little spooky all at the same time. The smell of this area is what men's cologne that's touted as 'woodsy' should smell like. Intoxicating. I always picture creatures slipping behind a tree, scurrying into a hole, or taking flight as we go through. So it's no wonder I wanted to put a creature of some kind there. Right? I'm right, right?


Meet Jerome. It took me years to find the perfect Gnome for this assignment. (Thank you, Target, as always.) I'm not kidding. I searched the world, or at least the world wide web, and I finally found Jerome right here - at the mother ship. Who knew. He's perfect.

So now the Enchanted Forrest has a real live Gnome that calls it home. (Don't make me come out there and fight you. He's real, alright.)

He's just small enough that you won't notice him unless he's pretty much pointed out to you. Did I already say 'perfect'?

What? There's a what? Under where? See what I mean. Genius.

And now all I can think about is planting more Gnomes. Scratch the itch, what do you get?

Oh, My Darlin'

I so love having such a great photographer for a friend! Leah came over to meet the new addition and took some beautiful pictures of her. The baby (I'm calling her Clementine for the time being) is all kinds of frisky today - very cute. She was literally running circles around Sunday (her proud Mother). Every second or third lap she would skid out and fall over, then pop right back up. I even saw a couple of little bucks.

She reminds me of a ballerina on point in this picture. Look at those legs!

What incredible changes one day makes. Isn't she gorgeous?

P.S. Check out some of Leah's work here.

Bad Hair Day?

Having a bad hair day? These pictures might make you feel a bit better about any unruly locks you may be dealing with:

This look is pretty much par for the course this time of year. Forelocks, manes, tails - all full of trillions of tiny burrs and big fat thistles. So, don't you feel better?

um, brrr.

You know those 'tests' you used to do in grade-school, junior high, maybe even high school, where you answer a bunch of random questions on one of those impossible to make paper flower things, and the test results tell you your future? On all those tests I always answered 'horse' to the question 'if you could be any animal, which one would you be?'. I was thinking, of course, of the beauty, grace, and sheer majestic power of the beasts. When I fed the horses Monday MY coat was soaked through before I came in, and I was out for less than an hour. Poor big, strong, majestic horses.
On Tuesday they had a layer of ice over their coats, icicles hanging from their whiskers, and ice-dreds in their manes.


See the clump of ice hanging there in front of his eye? It's not suspended in mid-air, no siree. Hanging from a whisker-type hair. Ouch. (Not to mention annoying)

And then, there's the shot below. You know when you're out in the snow for a long time and you don't realize you have ice in your hair until you turn your head and it whacks your frozen face? Imagine it's completely covering you. At least the guy in this picture has a winter coat a Woolly Mammoth would be envious of. . . maybe he doesn't know he's a horse Popsicle. Granted, just when I think they must be freezing one of them drops down in the snow to roll around, but still. How comfortable can it be, really?

As much as I love dogs, you know where they have to go to do their business. No such thing as a 'dog box' or 'doggy litter'. Although judging from the way Sadie plays around in the snow, I don't think she's really all that cold either.

This one runs back to the warmth of the kitty bed on the porch if we're out too long. No winter coat there. Aww, isn't she cute?

So today, I'm thinking it's not so much a dog's life either. Today, I'm thinking 'cat'. Definitely a cat. Not a barn cat. Certainly not an alley cat. A prissy house cat curled up in front of a nice warm fire while the storm rages on the other side of the window. 'Want to go out today?' my nice human would say. I would flick my tail at them and have them follow me to 'my' bed so they could pet me. Then maybe I'd take a nap - far away from outside, and the cold, and the wet.

Spring at the Ranch. . . Yummy.

The sun is finally out today, hooray! Holly and I went to work at the ranch and decided the horses were in need of a good grooming. (As good as you can do without washing them - it wasn't THAT warm) Nothing says spring like horse hair in your lip gloss and a good sneezing fit.
The Results



The Culprits




I'll save the REALLY yummy spring clean-up (think muck rakes instead of curry combs. . .) for later!

work, work, work

When I'm wound about as tight as I can get before I snap it's usually about time to go to work again. I work part-time exercising, training, and just generally taking care of 8 magnificent horses. As cheesy as it sounds, they are seriously my friends! They are ALWAYS happy to see me, (okay, I come bearing grain. . . but still.) we spend hours and hours together and without having to say a word I feel we understand each other. There is an amazing wealth of communication available between humans and horses, and I always leave "work" more at peace than I arrived.

Last week I brought Nick with me to feed. These are just a few of the pictures I snapped of my furry (VERY FURRY this time of year) soulmates and little Nicky.