Mojo Madness

Well I have only ridden once since my adventures in FL. I feel so guilty and neglectful, but it is not completely my fault. Holly has had a string of issues that are now resolved. Of course I could have ridden Henry but then there have also been all these freak thunderstorms. Of course, we haven't been having any freak thunderstorms on the weekends, but we have been busy trying to catch up with all the maintenance and projects on the farm. I know, I know...excuses excuses! It's shameful! Well I do have some good news. I have been working with Mojo the pony quite a bit lately. It started with trying to teach him that the fly spray is not going to kill him. Today he actually let me spray his chest and left side without moving. He finally got it and figured out that when he stopped moving around I stopped spraying him very quickly! He's pretty smart! Earlier this week, or was it last week? Who knows, anyway, I came home from work and it was still pretty early but not early enough to groom one of my disgusting horses and ride, so I decided to groom Mojo instead. I think it was the first time he seemed to really enjoy being groomed. Today I decided to go a little further and start getting him into the idea of stuff being on his back and around his belly. I put a blanket surcingle on him first with a I rigged up little "breast plate" made of elastic leg straps and baling twine (to keep the surcingle in place). I let him walk around with that on for a few minutes and he didn't seem to care. Next I got a saddle pad and let him sniff it. Then I rubbed his whole body with it like a towel. I put the saddle pad on and reattached the surcingle. I didn't want him to roll so instead of turning him loose we just walked around the pasture together. He did fine with that so I went and got my saddle. I showed it to him and let him sniff it and he looked at me like "Yeah, ok and...?" He did move away a few steps when I lifted it up to his back level but I kinda rubbed him with it as best I could without making it scary and then he was fine. I put it on his back on top of the saddle pad, then took it off, put it back on, moved it all around up his neck and down off his butt. He stood still for it all and didn't mind a bit. Finally I put the girth on and tightened it very slowly, one hole at a time over the course of several minutes until it was barely snug. I wiggled the saddle a little bit so he could get used to it and feel everything before putting it up one more hole so that it was just snug enough to keep the saddle in place. I let him stand there for a minute before taking him back out to walk around. He was completely fine with everything! We walked around for a while and I turned him in circles both ways so he could feel how the saddle felt. I need to teach him how to lunge so I can get him to move with the saddle on. He may feel differently about it when he's trotting and cantering. Here is a picture of him standing after we walked around with the saddle on.














I took the stirrups off first thing before I ever put it on him. I didn't want them to accidentally come down and scare him. I'll work up to having the stirrups loose and dangling when he is lunged. He was such a good boy so I untacked him right after I took the picture, brushed him off, gave him some treats (which he was also getting throughout the entire process) and then turned him out. So even though I haven't been riding I feel like I have been doing something productive.

Where I'm From

On my way home this dark and dreary evening I was listening to the radio to keep myself company as I usually do. Working far from home has advantages and disadvantages and sometimes, they are one in the same. I really enjoy taking the hour plus drive to relax in the car and decompress. I am an over thinker and driving by myself as much as I do allows me to indulge in that pastime. Most of the time I think about what's going on in my life at present, what my goals are for the future, how my relationships are going, and very occasionally what I am going to cook for dinner. The disadvantage of being such an over thinker is that my thoughts sometimes turn down a sad and uncomfy path and I have a whole lot of time to dwell in those prickly thoughts. This evening was almost one of those occasions.

A song came on the radio that I often listen to and maybe you've heard it too. It's that country song "Where I'm From". He is telling a man on a plane about where he's from and paints the picture of a small country town. Well anyway if you don't know what I am talking about it doesn't really matter. The point is, it got me thinking about where I am from. I've never really felt like I was FROM anywhere. I don't have a home town that I know and remember and love. My years growing up were spent a few years here and a few years there. Military kids know what I'm talking about. My friends all either grew up here or grew up in another state and they go "home" for holidays. Well I sure didn't grow up here, but my parent's house is not really home either. My friends can't wait to visit with their friends and family "back home". I don't have a "back home" and sometimes it get a little depressing. But tonight I realized something. I am from somewhere. It's a place I know so well I could describe it to a blind man. I know the smells, the sounds, and everyone's name.

I am from a dusty old barn with red and white paint.
Where the horses are fed precisely at 8,
and where stalls are mucked every morning.
Where barn aisles are swept, and buckets are scrubbed.
Tack is clean and greys like the mud.
Where horse show moms are your biggest fans,
and losing your horse is like losing your hand
It may sound silly to some, but that is where I am from.

It may sound silly but that really IS where I am from. My horses are my dearest friends. We scratch each others backs, give each other hugs, and get on each others nerves. They depend on me, but I desperately depend on them to keep my sanity. Ok this may really be silly but when I am watching a movie where someone is riding a horse, and they do it in slow motion, and it's all dramatic, I feel homesick and sometimes will find myself tearing up. I can't ever remember feeling homesick in a barn. The smell of a barn or horses makes me feel safe and happy, even if I am thinking about how atrocious the stalls may be. I know you may be thinking "is she serious?...a barn???", but yes, I am. The closest thing to a hometown I know is a barn. For me, home is where the barn is.