"Back Yard Horses" that is the term we use for horses that the people who own them don't have much land or funding for the big pastures, or whos barns don't have wash racks and there wash rack is a garden hose and a hitching post on there front lawn or who have indoor arean's, the barns are mearly glorified sheds sitting on 2 acres of land with a few horses.
Nothing wrong with it. In fact my nautrual Dad use to tell me some of the best horses ever to go to the Kentucky Derby came out of a little rat hole for a barn and did just fine. He said that alot while I was getting his old red Mare back in shape the summer of 1996 so my Sister M.J. could use the mare for her high school equistrain team. I think what he was saying was it didn't matter what was on the outside of the barn, but rather what mattered was what was on the inside of the horses heart and the hearts of the people the horse was surrounded by that was going to deturmind how good the horse would do.
Having been around this thing for a while now, I see what Dad was saying. Some of my favorite places to dump shavings or make a horse run with either Terry or Kris are those back yard places. Where the owner barn manger and stall cleaner are the same person. These are the people doing it for the "love of the game." Not a tax write off, or something to show there friends. Nothing wrong with those people either, the horse industry needs those people as well. Just I can relate with the back yard people better and apreciate what they are trying to do.
Last winter Kris and I finished up a horse hauling run for Terry. One of the horses he hauled was a white little Arabain mare from Arazona that was probably in her late teens. Sue bought the horse from the Gene who had fouled the mare, then Sue moved to Arazona years ago. It was the last foul from Gene's horse Lovely who has since passed on, Sue always said if she ever got rid of the horse she wanted Gene to have it, since it was Lovely's last baby. Well what ended up happening was Sue became terminally ill with cancer and said if Gene would pay for the hauling expense back to Michigan Gene could have the mare.
So there Kris and I are in the big truck and trailer with the coolest Sheltie ever riding in the sleeper, cruzing along a country highway with this pretty all white Arabian mare, looking for Gene's place. The house was so small and I know the barn was bigger then the house. There wasn't a big fancy driveway to pull into. We ended up pulling off to the shoulder of the road and unloading the mare there. As we where slowing down three kids covered in dirt started running towards the road as Gene followed closely behind them.
The first thing Gene did was pull out her checkbook and starting writting us a check for hauling the horse. As I was heading for the truck with the check. Kris started opening up the trailer. During this I noticed a little girl probably seven or eight years old who reminded me a lot of my Sister M.J. at that age. She had on a dirty pink winter coat with a camo stocking hat and a toothless grin. Kris said to her "she's pretty isn't she." That's when the little girl said with her hocky player smile said "Yea, she's mine" All I could do was smile and I said to myself "this is a pretty good business." As Kris and I along with her dog Yogie started to pull away, this is what I saw in the side mear of the truck. Gene leading the mare down that gravel driveway with three kids at Gene's and the mares heals. Even in that big deisle truck on that cold winter day, you could feel the love and energy as we drove away.
No that mare won't ever be bathed with hot water, have a chriopactor work on her, get the latest supplements in her feed, have a heated barn in the winter or be hauled in fancy horse trailers to shows. She probably won't see the big show ring again or have to stand for hours while they groom her for a show...... But I know dam well that for the rest of that horses life it will be loved and appreciated by a little o'l country family just off the main drage. In the end I think that is what Sue wanted and that is why she sent the horse back to Michigan.
As for Sue, which by the way isn't her real name. (I didn't know her name and made it up so it would be easer to read.) I don't know what ever happend to her. But I do know that in a world full of coal, if you endure enough dust you will see the dimonds that come of it.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Life
What do I write about?? things have been a blur lately. It seems like every night I am working late. Last week I didn't make it in before 10:00 on all of the nights except one.
The subject of not having a life has come up a couple of times in the past week. Kris and I joked about it a couple of Sundays ago and then I heard it from someone the other day. So you sit back and ponder. Trust me you do get tired and at times you forget why you are doing what you are doing.
So here is a attempt to give you a glimps of wha it is all about. Last winter on a snowy, stormy night. I loaded up the shavings truck in Zeeland and headed for Pullman about an hour south of Zeeland for a shaving delivery. When I got to Eddie's place I was late and tired and Eddie let me know how late I was. Eddie is and gentlman in his seventies who is a horse trainer and sulky horse owner. Eddie lives on a horse faciltie that he has own for fifty years where he trains horses and bitches about being old. I have always enjoyed listening to Edie as I dump the shavings, he has some stories about horses.
On that night, Edie inveted me into the lounge in the barn. I sat there looking at all the former geat winners and prizes on the walls. As Edie wrote out the check for the shavings he contiued on his thoughts of horses and the modern feee world that we live in. I stayed a good hour there sipping cofee and listening to him. Over time if I have a problem horse at home, I ask eddie what his thoughts are. The snow was coimng down and I new I should get on the road. As I was heading for the door, Eddie mentioned to me to be carefull going home and with a scowell on his face told me to next time not be late, then cracked a smile and waved good by.
I littlery used the rumble strips on M40 to make my way home that night. All because I couldn't resist the oppurtinty to listen to an old horseman. It is people like Eddie that make life worth living for us younger guys, but I would datr say that it is the youngsters coming around that make it worth living for the old guys. And it is in those moments that I realize what kind of "life" I have.
The subject of not having a life has come up a couple of times in the past week. Kris and I joked about it a couple of Sundays ago and then I heard it from someone the other day. So you sit back and ponder. Trust me you do get tired and at times you forget why you are doing what you are doing.
So here is a attempt to give you a glimps of wha it is all about. Last winter on a snowy, stormy night. I loaded up the shavings truck in Zeeland and headed for Pullman about an hour south of Zeeland for a shaving delivery. When I got to Eddie's place I was late and tired and Eddie let me know how late I was. Eddie is and gentlman in his seventies who is a horse trainer and sulky horse owner. Eddie lives on a horse faciltie that he has own for fifty years where he trains horses and bitches about being old. I have always enjoyed listening to Edie as I dump the shavings, he has some stories about horses.
On that night, Edie inveted me into the lounge in the barn. I sat there looking at all the former geat winners and prizes on the walls. As Edie wrote out the check for the shavings he contiued on his thoughts of horses and the modern feee world that we live in. I stayed a good hour there sipping cofee and listening to him. Over time if I have a problem horse at home, I ask eddie what his thoughts are. The snow was coimng down and I new I should get on the road. As I was heading for the door, Eddie mentioned to me to be carefull going home and with a scowell on his face told me to next time not be late, then cracked a smile and waved good by.
I littlery used the rumble strips on M40 to make my way home that night. All because I couldn't resist the oppurtinty to listen to an old horseman. It is people like Eddie that make life worth living for us younger guys, but I would datr say that it is the youngsters coming around that make it worth living for the old guys. And it is in those moments that I realize what kind of "life" I have.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Want too feed something
This post is about a good friend of mine and his 4 year old son and moving on from tragedy
8 years ago when I moved onto the farm I met Al and Chris who's houses where near the farm and we would later coin ourselves as the three amingos. Al and Chris where ten years older then me. Al married and with two kids and Chris who planned to Marry Missy. Then me, the snott nose kid with the big truck and the attitude that went with working construction. Chris was the brains and Al had the drive for work and zest for life, together we in Al's words "built some shit." Looking back those three years where a amazing time full of hard work heavy conversation about life and barly pops. Because in June of 05 we lost Al to a boating accident and the three of us and those around the farm would no longer be the same.
Chris was the one who called me about Al's accident. It was Chris and I who told neighbor Bob about the accident. Right away Chris and I started hanging out and helping each other more and having those deeper conversations while forming a brother like bond, that would take us through making sure Al's widow and kids where o.k. to my own career path strugles and to the birth of Chris's first son Jacob Allan in Oct of 06.
I remember Chris and I during the summer of 06 on Friday nights, with beer in hand, standing in his garage talking about his future son. How he was going to be tough, no candy ass, love cars and how we where going to show him all these cool things when he got older. The first time I saw Jake he was laying on the counter in a blakect and Chris leans down to him and says "this is the kodman, get to know him, he is going to be around for a while."
Times have changed. Jacob has a almost year old brother and it keeps Chris and Missy prety bussy, which makes garage time harder to come by. I have taken on personal and proffesional challlenges which makes being around tougher. Like all the kids coming up. I have never forced the horses or the barn on them, just vowed to give them the chance to reject it. If they don't like it, that is o.k. with me, at least they had the oppurtunity. Jake has supprised me how much he wants to be at the barn and how into the animals that he is. Last Sunday I was finishing up dragging the indoor areana and I noticed this little four year old pop his head around the corner. It was Jake, he ran up to the tractor and we spun a few laps around the indoor areana. Then when we put the tractor up, Jake said " I want to feed something." Then we went and fed the swaans and the cats. The third amego.
It was great to see Chris, Jake and Collen and it made slow up enough to enjoy life. Honestly something I wasn't sure five years ago I would be able to do again. Jake wasn't just feeding animales that Sunday, he was letting me know how simple life is. We did it!!! We have moved on and we are doing pretty dam good.
8 years ago when I moved onto the farm I met Al and Chris who's houses where near the farm and we would later coin ourselves as the three amingos. Al and Chris where ten years older then me. Al married and with two kids and Chris who planned to Marry Missy. Then me, the snott nose kid with the big truck and the attitude that went with working construction. Chris was the brains and Al had the drive for work and zest for life, together we in Al's words "built some shit." Looking back those three years where a amazing time full of hard work heavy conversation about life and barly pops. Because in June of 05 we lost Al to a boating accident and the three of us and those around the farm would no longer be the same.
Chris was the one who called me about Al's accident. It was Chris and I who told neighbor Bob about the accident. Right away Chris and I started hanging out and helping each other more and having those deeper conversations while forming a brother like bond, that would take us through making sure Al's widow and kids where o.k. to my own career path strugles and to the birth of Chris's first son Jacob Allan in Oct of 06.
I remember Chris and I during the summer of 06 on Friday nights, with beer in hand, standing in his garage talking about his future son. How he was going to be tough, no candy ass, love cars and how we where going to show him all these cool things when he got older. The first time I saw Jake he was laying on the counter in a blakect and Chris leans down to him and says "this is the kodman, get to know him, he is going to be around for a while."
Times have changed. Jacob has a almost year old brother and it keeps Chris and Missy prety bussy, which makes garage time harder to come by. I have taken on personal and proffesional challlenges which makes being around tougher. Like all the kids coming up. I have never forced the horses or the barn on them, just vowed to give them the chance to reject it. If they don't like it, that is o.k. with me, at least they had the oppurtunity. Jake has supprised me how much he wants to be at the barn and how into the animals that he is. Last Sunday I was finishing up dragging the indoor areana and I noticed this little four year old pop his head around the corner. It was Jake, he ran up to the tractor and we spun a few laps around the indoor areana. Then when we put the tractor up, Jake said " I want to feed something." Then we went and fed the swaans and the cats. The third amego.
It was great to see Chris, Jake and Collen and it made slow up enough to enjoy life. Honestly something I wasn't sure five years ago I would be able to do again. Jake wasn't just feeding animales that Sunday, he was letting me know how simple life is. We did it!!! We have moved on and we are doing pretty dam good.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)