Never send a man to do a horse's job.
- Mr. Ed
“They think they can make fuel from horse manure - Now, I don't know if your car will be able to get 30 miles to the gallon, but it's sure gonna put a stop to siphoning”
- Billie Holiday
It's a lot like nuts and bolts - if the rider's nuts, the horse bolts!
~Nicholas Evans
If horses knew their strength we should not ride anymore.
-Mark Twain
The horse I bet on was so slow, the jockey kept a diary of the trip.
- Henny Youngman
Horses are uncomfortable in the middle and dangerous at both ends.
- Attributed to both Christopher Stone and Ian Fleming
One way to stop a runaway horse is to bet on him.
- Jeffrey Bernard
I can make a General in five minutes but a good horse is hard to replace.
- Abraham Lincoln
No matter what you weigh, the little fellow is your equal on a horse.
- Will Rogers
Friday, November 26, 2010
Sunday, November 14, 2010
What Makes Me Happy
I'm frequently asked by the curious non-equestrians at work, "How often do you ride?" My typical responses are "Me ... Oh ... not since the Nixon administration" or "They don't let the wretched ride."
The truth be known, I did ride almost daily while courting my wife 23 years ago. She was teaching riding lessons and I was taking riding lessons so I could actually see her when she wasn't exhausted. She even convinced me to go into a little schooling show. True story: I almost ran over the judge and then cut off a 75 year old woman in a flat class causing her to fall from her mount. After my primary rival was taken away in an ambulance, I got second in the class, much better than I expected.
I now rarely get on a horse...maybe every 5 years or so if the stars line up just so. Yes, it usually does take 5 years to recover. Even when I do ride, it on the pony Bobbie. I'm 6 foot 2. If he starts getting fresh, all I have to do is straighten my legs and he just trots out from under me.
Truth also be known that none of this is or was ever about me. The quicker I came to that realization the better. My role is cleaning stalls on the weekends, picking up the feed at the store, doing night checks, trailering horses here and there, fixing stuff, helping with turn out and yes paying some bills. The horses are as much about me as breathing is about smelling the flowers. I'm only a side benefit that comes with the entree.
However, I love (and I do mean love) to watch my wife and daughter ride. The horse and either rider float so effortlessly around the ring with such grace and beauty that it's almost like a spiritual type of experience for me. OK ... before you think spiritual in the sense that I'm channeling my long dead fore fathers ... no ... nothing Casper the Friendly Ghost here.
Watching them ride somehow makes me feel like I'm part of something bigger.
I always have to stop and watch for a moment. I'm always at least tempted to grab a camera. I always get tears in my eyes.
It's not truly about their riding either. Yes, my wife and daughter both are accomplished riders and no I don't get the same feeling watching others ride (that would be weird), no matter how good they are. I do, however, get the same feeling watching my son snowboard effortlessly over powered snow. See the Link...
http://bobbienosocks.blogspot.com/2010/03/eating-dirt.html
The watery eyes, the spirituality, the sappy stories do not come because of the beauty of the ride of horse or snowboard or because I live to peal onions.
It comes because someone I love is doing something something they love. It makes them happy beyond happy, which makes me happy beyond happy.
Ride Happy!
The truth be known, I did ride almost daily while courting my wife 23 years ago. She was teaching riding lessons and I was taking riding lessons so I could actually see her when she wasn't exhausted. She even convinced me to go into a little schooling show. True story: I almost ran over the judge and then cut off a 75 year old woman in a flat class causing her to fall from her mount. After my primary rival was taken away in an ambulance, I got second in the class, much better than I expected.
I now rarely get on a horse...maybe every 5 years or so if the stars line up just so. Yes, it usually does take 5 years to recover. Even when I do ride, it on the pony Bobbie. I'm 6 foot 2. If he starts getting fresh, all I have to do is straighten my legs and he just trots out from under me.
Truth also be known that none of this is or was ever about me. The quicker I came to that realization the better. My role is cleaning stalls on the weekends, picking up the feed at the store, doing night checks, trailering horses here and there, fixing stuff, helping with turn out and yes paying some bills. The horses are as much about me as breathing is about smelling the flowers. I'm only a side benefit that comes with the entree.
However, I love (and I do mean love) to watch my wife and daughter ride. The horse and either rider float so effortlessly around the ring with such grace and beauty that it's almost like a spiritual type of experience for me. OK ... before you think spiritual in the sense that I'm channeling my long dead fore fathers ... no ... nothing Casper the Friendly Ghost here.
Watching them ride somehow makes me feel like I'm part of something bigger.
I always have to stop and watch for a moment. I'm always at least tempted to grab a camera. I always get tears in my eyes.
It's not truly about their riding either. Yes, my wife and daughter both are accomplished riders and no I don't get the same feeling watching others ride (that would be weird), no matter how good they are. I do, however, get the same feeling watching my son snowboard effortlessly over powered snow. See the Link...
http://bobbienosocks.blogspot.com/2010/03/eating-dirt.html
The watery eyes, the spirituality, the sappy stories do not come because of the beauty of the ride of horse or snowboard or because I live to peal onions.
It comes because someone I love is doing something something they love. It makes them happy beyond happy, which makes me happy beyond happy.
Ride Happy!
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Ode (or Odor) to Stall Cleaning
There's no way around it.
The poop just keeps coming.
You clean stalls every day.
While horses clean their plumbing.
No shavings aren't that cheap
You shake and toss and sift
Your backs about to break
What the heck was that I sniffed.
This ain't no perfume factory
The urine reeks and ranks
What did that horse drink
A thousand water tanks?
It's like any of life's struggles
Where should I begin
This stalls a wicked mess
There's no way I'll ever win
But persistence wins the day
Each poop I find and pick
The stall is finally clean
And I avoided getting sick
Tomorrow starts anew
The crap will drop and roll
I plead to my horse Friends
Just use a Toilet Bowl
The poop just keeps coming.
You clean stalls every day.
While horses clean their plumbing.
No shavings aren't that cheap
You shake and toss and sift
Your backs about to break
What the heck was that I sniffed.
This ain't no perfume factory
The urine reeks and ranks
What did that horse drink
A thousand water tanks?
It's like any of life's struggles
Where should I begin
This stalls a wicked mess
There's no way I'll ever win
But persistence wins the day
Each poop I find and pick
The stall is finally clean
And I avoided getting sick
Tomorrow starts anew
The crap will drop and roll
I plead to my horse Friends
Just use a Toilet Bowl
Sunday, November 7, 2010
The Wet Pasture Derby
The horses had been in for a few days because of the rain we've been getting this week. As a result, they were all freakish at turn out yesterday, dancing all the way to pasture as if they were 2 year old race horses, not the 13 to 26 year old Geritol jumpers that they are.
When released from their lead ropes they'd all canter out to mid pasture, drop, roll, race around a little more, buck with all four feet off the ground and then gradually put their heads down to graze. Everything was actually fairly predictable until Czar Bobbie, the tiniest terror of all, was turned out.
At first, he too dropped, rolled and bucked. However, after his final leap, he took off like a turbo charged Secretariat chasing the other horses around his personal killing field like he were an evil barbarian Hun looking for the fresh peasant kill.
The other horses on typical day would be spooked by as little as deer, kites, umbrellas or a Republican landslide election (Yes, horses, by nature are very liberal creatures). However, this time the fear was more primal as if they were the antelope being hunted by the "mini me" lion.
McGuiver would have defused the Bobbie bomb with some chewing gum and dental floss. However, his services weren't needed here. After 15 minutes or so, an uneasy calm returned to pasture.
Unfortunately, you never know when the angelic creatures of calm will return to the wild beasts of turmoil. We often have talked about having a bucket of grain in clear box by the pasture with a sign that said, "For emergency break glass. Hurl grain towards the little one."
We've all survived another day.
When released from their lead ropes they'd all canter out to mid pasture, drop, roll, race around a little more, buck with all four feet off the ground and then gradually put their heads down to graze. Everything was actually fairly predictable until Czar Bobbie, the tiniest terror of all, was turned out.
At first, he too dropped, rolled and bucked. However, after his final leap, he took off like a turbo charged Secretariat chasing the other horses around his personal killing field like he were an evil barbarian Hun looking for the fresh peasant kill.
The other horses on typical day would be spooked by as little as deer, kites, umbrellas or a Republican landslide election (Yes, horses, by nature are very liberal creatures). However, this time the fear was more primal as if they were the antelope being hunted by the "mini me" lion.
McGuiver would have defused the Bobbie bomb with some chewing gum and dental floss. However, his services weren't needed here. After 15 minutes or so, an uneasy calm returned to pasture.
Unfortunately, you never know when the angelic creatures of calm will return to the wild beasts of turmoil. We often have talked about having a bucket of grain in clear box by the pasture with a sign that said, "For emergency break glass. Hurl grain towards the little one."
We've all survived another day.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Icy Horse Halloween
Halloween played a cool little trick today with some icy snow, not so gently falling from the heavens. Clearly there must have been a cold front moving through heaven. I picture angels bundled like Green Bay Packer fans with icicles dangling from their wings and frost on the halos (or probably on their cheese heads at game time).
Today the horses are all bundled in blankets. They wanted to go out regardless and are now munching on freshly chilled grass in the pasture. "Frost on the Pumpkins" is a phrase you hear around here a lot and we've been using it this year since mid-September.
As I took a wheel barrow of manure out to dump, my fingers burned from the cold and I was quickly reminded that I needed to get new barn gloves. My old ones were thrown out on a warm day last spring. "I'll get new gloves", I can remember announcing to the world as if I were moving from the Cavaliers to the Miami Heat. Of course 90 degree days in the summer aren't always the best for marketers of winter apparel. They do seem to be good marketer's of the Miami Heat.
You know you live in Central New York, when parents annually jam snowsuits under their kids spiderman and princess costumes. Yes, they'll be a lot of overstuffed miniature ghosts prowling for candy tonight.
Time to throw another coal in the fire. Time to defrost the candy.
Today the horses are all bundled in blankets. They wanted to go out regardless and are now munching on freshly chilled grass in the pasture. "Frost on the Pumpkins" is a phrase you hear around here a lot and we've been using it this year since mid-September.
As I took a wheel barrow of manure out to dump, my fingers burned from the cold and I was quickly reminded that I needed to get new barn gloves. My old ones were thrown out on a warm day last spring. "I'll get new gloves", I can remember announcing to the world as if I were moving from the Cavaliers to the Miami Heat. Of course 90 degree days in the summer aren't always the best for marketers of winter apparel. They do seem to be good marketer's of the Miami Heat.
You know you live in Central New York, when parents annually jam snowsuits under their kids spiderman and princess costumes. Yes, they'll be a lot of overstuffed miniature ghosts prowling for candy tonight.
Time to throw another coal in the fire. Time to defrost the candy.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Pay Back Time -- She's Sick Now
OK ... now is truly the time that we separate the men from the boys. Yes, I was sick for a few days. Yes, my wife waited on me hand and foot. I had the life of home made chicken noodle soup. My medicine and tissues were brought to me like I was the Prince of Persia. I had hours of rest and relaxation.
Yet, all of that's over now. It's all a distant memory. I'm better, cured and she's the one now with the horrific cold and the fluid filled chest. I'm the one bringing her cold medicine, tissues and providing the foot rubs. Surely, I'd be the one making her home made chicken noodle soup, if she wasn't a vegetarian. Sadly, Tofu noodle soup just lacks the taste and medicinal qualities... of it's poultry laced cousin.
Oh and don't forget... I'm also the one take care of five horses before I go to work in the morning. I'm handling the hay, the grain, the endless supplements that I need a cheat sheet to dole out, the turn out, the stall cleaning and the sweeping of the barn. Like the Marines, I do (or did) more before 6 am than you do all day. OK ... OK ... make that 9 AM. But, still it's my pay back.
Days like this are the days when I truly realize what a sainted woman this is that I married. She does this everyday, 7 days a week, every freaking day of the year. She only gets breaks when I help her on the weekends and on the off chance we actually go away for a real vacation every couple of years or decades.
She needs more breaks... heck, I did it by myself today. One day and I need a break.
I know what you're thinking. Stop being a baby! You have a horse or two or thirty at your home ... you live this. I feel sorry for you. Yes, you're all saints. You all need vacations ...or at a minimum... get a freaking cold once in a while so you can finally get that break you need.
Gotta go... she needs another tissue.
Yet, all of that's over now. It's all a distant memory. I'm better, cured and she's the one now with the horrific cold and the fluid filled chest. I'm the one bringing her cold medicine, tissues and providing the foot rubs. Surely, I'd be the one making her home made chicken noodle soup, if she wasn't a vegetarian. Sadly, Tofu noodle soup just lacks the taste and medicinal qualities... of it's poultry laced cousin.
Oh and don't forget... I'm also the one take care of five horses before I go to work in the morning. I'm handling the hay, the grain, the endless supplements that I need a cheat sheet to dole out, the turn out, the stall cleaning and the sweeping of the barn. Like the Marines, I do (or did) more before 6 am than you do all day. OK ... OK ... make that 9 AM. But, still it's my pay back.
Days like this are the days when I truly realize what a sainted woman this is that I married. She does this everyday, 7 days a week, every freaking day of the year. She only gets breaks when I help her on the weekends and on the off chance we actually go away for a real vacation every couple of years or decades.
She needs more breaks... heck, I did it by myself today. One day and I need a break.
I know what you're thinking. Stop being a baby! You have a horse or two or thirty at your home ... you live this. I feel sorry for you. Yes, you're all saints. You all need vacations ...or at a minimum... get a freaking cold once in a while so you can finally get that break you need.
Gotta go... she needs another tissue.
Monday, October 25, 2010
A Horse... Is it worth it?
We question ourselves quite often with the whole horse thing. Are we crazy? Clearly "yes" is the quick answer. If you're kid was interested in softball, it'd cost only the price of a glove, a bat, some balls and maybe a $50 annual fee for the league. If it was bug collecting, I'd buy a %10,000 bug net and still come out ahead.
With horses, the glove becomes a Pessoa saddle, the Louisville Slugger - a $500 riding helmet, the Rawlings balls become a $40,000 plus horse or two and the $50 annual fee becomes trainer fees, boarding, shoes, etc, etc and etc. Yes, NASCAR or golfing on the moon probably beats this. Yet, people who think Hockey or golf or skiing is expensive haven't got a clue what an expensive sport really is.
The question remains. Is it worth it? I can tell you only this. After riding since she was three, my daughter, now 19, is one of the most confident people I know. She's thinking about either medical school or a degree in business. She's dedicated her life to horses and thus she's stayed away from some of the typical teenage temptations. She handles herself extremely well with all types of people, whether young or old, nice or nasty or rich and poor. She was extremely busy growing up which taught her unbelievable organizational skills.
Could that have happened if we'd said "NO" more often, maybe. However, while it's expensive and at points we'd have to say we couldn't swing this or that, as a parent you search hard for the things that your child will be passionate about, whether track, softball, acting or (gulp) horses. If you find that one thing... that one very special thing that supersedes all, you've won.
The answer is that you have to figure all this out for yourself.
With horses, the glove becomes a Pessoa saddle, the Louisville Slugger - a $500 riding helmet, the Rawlings balls become a $40,000 plus horse or two and the $50 annual fee becomes trainer fees, boarding, shoes, etc, etc and etc. Yes, NASCAR or golfing on the moon probably beats this. Yet, people who think Hockey or golf or skiing is expensive haven't got a clue what an expensive sport really is.
The question remains. Is it worth it? I can tell you only this. After riding since she was three, my daughter, now 19, is one of the most confident people I know. She's thinking about either medical school or a degree in business. She's dedicated her life to horses and thus she's stayed away from some of the typical teenage temptations. She handles herself extremely well with all types of people, whether young or old, nice or nasty or rich and poor. She was extremely busy growing up which taught her unbelievable organizational skills.
Could that have happened if we'd said "NO" more often, maybe. However, while it's expensive and at points we'd have to say we couldn't swing this or that, as a parent you search hard for the things that your child will be passionate about, whether track, softball, acting or (gulp) horses. If you find that one thing... that one very special thing that supersedes all, you've won.
The answer is that you have to figure all this out for yourself.
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