Life on the farm is unique. What compares? Share your thoughts. We grow our own food, raise a bunch of critters, have a bunch of fun, love the land. Outdoors is best. I’m bias? Yes, I am… May I ask you this—Do you love the land?
How about you? What’s your ‘jam’? Tell us, please! As my mother used to say, “It takes all kinds to make this world, Midy”.
She was right.
We all have more than one name. Think about it. How many names do you have? Mom, Honey, Babe, Aunt, Granny, Mrs., and sometimes, “Hey, you!”
I have another name too. All the animals know it well. Know what it is?
FOOD!
Oh, it is sweet to think when our animals look at me, whinny, moo or follow me it is because they love me so. But it is not. Truth is, they are
HUNGRY!
Yes, in their world, my name is Food.
My husband says I am not happy unless I am feeding something. Guess he is right.
They also have the mistaken notion that every time I come around them I owe them a treat. I do admit these animals are a bit spoiled. Most especially our horses. They are all seniors. In my mind they have earned their semi-retirement. Their treats are their ‘retirement pay.’
But, good grief, must they stare at me with such begging faces? Tell me, could you tell these faces no to an iddy-biddy treat?
Tell me, how can these faces be turned down for treats?
Have you ever been asked to perform a job you felt was far beyond your ability or know how?
If so, you might relate to the way I felt when my boss asked if I would clean up the three Civil War saddles in our Stonewall Jackson Museum.
A cold shiver passed through me. Museum saddles from the Civil War? I have never even dared to touch one in that beautiful museum, never-mind the thought of cleaning one!
Certainly working ten years as a docent did not qualify me for this task. However, I am a horsewoman. I have cleaned my own tack hundreds of times over the years and been inside many harness shops talking to and learning from the men. But, as they say, “That’s a horse of a different color!” My tack is not on display nor full of historic value.
“You know about saddles, Mitzy. They need attention.” Her confidence surely was greater than mine.
May I tell you how my mind started churning? Like the little gizmo on the computer when it is ‘thinking’, so turned my mind. What do they need? Do I have the proper supplies? How can I be sure I won’t damage them?
The tote bag was full of every leather cleaning product I own along with several white cotton cloths. Some for clearing away dust, others for oiling. As I mounted the stairs to the second floor where the saddles were on display, past conversations with harness/leather men over the years flooded my mind.
There they were, beautifully displayed in this fine museum. Setting the supplies down, I gazed at these wonderful pieces of American history. Plaques on each display told their story.
After examining them, I decided the best thing was Neatsfoot oil. Like my hands in winter the leather was dry and cracked. Obviously soap cleaning was out of the question. These saddles needed oil. Some areas were dry-rotted. This means it is beyond repair.
I began with the one that appeared in best shape. It was Turner Ashby’s saddle.
Gently, gently did I apply oil and wiped softly with the cotton cloth on the leather in the seat. The response was an answer to prayer. The leather took it beautifully! A peek on the underneath revealed mold. Mold on leather is like rust on a car—deadly. My boss held the saddle up so I could apply oil and remove the mold. Another score!
Feeling a bit more confident, I started on the other two. To my great joy and delight they responded as well.
I do not know how long I was there so full of careful thoughts towards the care of these historic pieces. I do know I can thank the memory of conversations with those smart harness men that knew far more than I. It was as if I could hear them speaking to me, guiding my thoughts and hands.
I saved the worse-worn saddle for last. It was pretty well dry-rotted, however, it did respond to the Neatsfoot oil.
Here is a photo of each one after oiling. Are you able to see a difference?
If ever in town, take time to visit Stonewall Jackson Museum. You will be glad you did.
Saturday, June 30th, was a fun day here on the farm. We held a Summer Horse Camp 101 during the morning from 9:30-noon. Our six wranglers ranged in age from 5 to 11 years old. Some with horse experience others with none.
Three adults for the six wranglers worked very well for us. A close eye must be kept on everyone around horses.
Children and horses go well together, so long as the horse does not have a fractious disposition and is well handled. I have had horses over the years I would not trust with children. However, our animals are well child-proofed for they have been around children all their lives.
As my dear horse-owning friend says, “You can trust these horses, and you can’t trust these horses.” True, so true. Horses are a preyed upon animal and as such are naturally wary. They must be taught to trust humans. Children are terrific at teaching horses to trust us.
That being said, we must always have “our horse brain on” when working around these big strong animals that are able to spook faster than we can blink an eye. We must think like a horse instead of wanting/expecting our horses to think like a human.
Talking of these things while petting them, walking around them, and riding them seemed interesting to our wranglers. They enjoyed a brief bareback ride around the stalls, learning how to measure them in hands, learning the points of the horse and taping, with masking tape, the points directly on the horse.
Snacks fueled the wranglers for the last part of camp. Pony rides on High Hope and Duke, and painting the ponies!
One mom said if we were having another camp, they would come again. Perhaps we will!
Four seasons comprise a year where we live here in Virginia. Right now about four weeks remain for this winter season. This cannot go by fast enough for my husband. Winter wins hands down for his least favorite season. Summer is his favorite.
It seems most folk I talk to say Spring is their favorite. I have heard it said that the season one is born in is the favorite. Have you heard that before? It does not hold true for me.
I was born in summer, but I cannot say it is my favorite. When asked, my general response is, “The season we are in right now is my favorite”. Because of my enjoyment of photography, there is something lovely and unique in each season. Though I find it much easier to add layers of clothing when it is cold. I mean there is only so much to be taken off when hot.
Fuzzy winter-coat horses are cozy and warm too. The best hand warmer around is between a horses elbow and belly, or under a full winter mane and neck. Duke looks like a fuzzy black bear in his winter coat. High Hope is not as fuzzy. The minis, Snowbell and Raggedy, look like two little fur balls rolling around like a tumbleweed.
When the wind blows their coats shimmer and wave like tall grasses on the prairie. Steam blowing from their noses makes them snort and blow more. I think it makes them feel big and strong!
Blue and white are my favorite colors, so I suppose if I had to choose a season, it would be winter.
What is your favorite season?
Whatever the weather,
Whether we like it or not.
So ends a cute childs poem about the weather. I’ll post the entire poem at the end of this blog.
I enjoy poetry and spent much time listening our mom read it to us even into adulthood. She could read beautifully outloud. This in itself is an art. I too read poetry to our children, some like it, some do not. C’est la vie.
But this post is not about poetry. It is about weathering the weather. The animals on our small farm need daily attention. Twice day is the everyday normal. Often frigid cold weather requires at least a third trip to the barn. Our horses are all seniors. Our youngest, High Hope, is eighteen years old. They are all in great condition, nonetheless, seniors require a bit more than younger horses.
Duke, our oldest at 25/26 years old (we don’t really know how old he is), is the one I will go out to care for in the middle of a wintery cold day. This week has been just that, bitter cold and terribly windy. It is the wind that concerns me the most.
I turn them out after feeding every morning. They can stay around the barn or head out to the snow covered fields, their choice. I have never blanketed them with the exception of our very old miniature, BR, who died peacefully in his stall at thirty-four years old a couple years ago.
Duke still has good body fat on him in part because I grain him twice a day year-round. Except for cold weather. I will go out at midday to grain him again, and spread more hay for the others.
This week has been snowing with bitter winds blowing for several days. The horses actually came in before I got out. Their whinnies told me to hurry up!
Three nights were spent in their stalls with fresh straw thickly spread. Even the chickens were happy for that. They love pecking in straw!
Looks as if the bitter cold has passed for now. All is well. Glory to God.
I grew up on a big farm, we now live on a small one. Just the same, animals have been a part of my entire life. They have taught me more than I may ever realize.
I am also a photographer. Though that title seems not to fit me, as I don’t really consider myself a photographer. Yet, I’ve taken photos since I got my first Kodak camera at eleven years old. Many moons have passed since then.
I am also unashamedly a Christian. These three loves of my life have lived together in harmony and beautifully. Hardly a day goes by where these three passions do not meet.
May I prove my point to you and share a few photographs of my love of animals and farm life and beliefs?
May you find your peace, joy and passion in this New Year…I have a thought, ask God. He loves to answer the seekers of life. God bless you.
How about you? Where do you find meaning and direction and purpose in this earthly, ephemeral life?
I play hide n’ seek everyday with Duke. I never thought ‘finding’ a black horse out the field as challenging. Well, I am wrong. Were it not for his white socks he would be nearly impossible to spot.
A close eye is kept on the horses throughout the day. They can get in the most uncanny trouble. A friend once said, “You could put a horse in a padded stall, and he’d still find some way to hurt himself.”
Duke rolled too close to the board fence one pleasant afternoon and caught his hind legs between the bottom and middle boards of the fence. With hammer in hand we were prepared to remove the boards. As we stood by him quietly he got himself out of that mess with only a few scratches, and a small limp.
He disappears then reappears in the field as if by magic. Our two black miniature horses are the same way, but they do not cover as much ground the way Duke does. They tend to stay in much the same grazing space.
The pretty white shining star on his forehead is also a beacon of light in our daily game of hide n’ seek. Last but surly not least, is snow. He is always a dead give away in snow!
Can you find Duke?
He cannot hide when it snows!
The Tennessee Walking horse is a beautiful, well-tempered, smooth riding Gaited horse. He is our senior horse. I still ride him, though not far or long. I would have a whole field of this breed of horse if I could!
I did choose very well eighteen years ago today. Casey Creek Farm in Kentucky was an adoption farm for abandoned nurse mare foals. We were adopting a beautiful, tiny one-month old buckskin filly. I choose her from a pile of photographs they had posted on their website.
Never having had any experience in raising a foal without its momma made it a scary yet exciting adventure to undertake. High Hope seemed the perfect name for her and me.
I could write pages about how High Hope has touched and blessed the lives of so many people in her eighteen years of life. She is a fine mare and one of the greatest joys of my life.
Cobwebs happily flutter in the gentle breeze in all the corners of the doors, stalls, and rafters; dust seriously collects in and on every available space; hay and straw are strewn all over the floor like children’s lego blocks; and surely not to forget all the poo deposited in the four corners of each stall. Why would anyone want to clean one of these messy, dusty ‘ole places?
Cobwebs hang and happily flutter in every corner!
Hay and straw cover the floor like children’s lego blocks.
Suppose it is confession time for this PFO. There is no time like time spent out in the barn. It does not favor any season of the year nor time of day. Anytime of the year is a wonderful time to be out in it, and every hour has it’s own specialness. The smells, temperatures, and critters all vary during a day. Several of the critters were put there by this PFO. Others appropriated it for themselves, seeing it very fit for raising and feeding their family. One must be very still and quiet to catch a glimpse of those that have adopted it as their home, for they keep to themselves, and come out only when all is either dark or quiet. As God would have it, they are a benefit to the ecosystem of the barn. The barn swallows eat pesky, biting flies, as do the spiders. The black snakes eat the mice. They also add to the overall mess! But it is nothing a hot cup of coffee and pre-breakfast homemade biscuit cannot handle.
A hot cup of coffee and buttered homemade biscuit can handle any mess in the barn.
Certain sounds and smells are unique only to barns, and a well-kept barn always has the sweet smell of fresh hay wafting in the air. Horses stamp their feet impatient for feed, cows moo softly as they saunter in, the chuckles are busy working in the manure piles (good Chuckles!), the baby birds are chirping high up in the rafters for more, more food from busy parents.
It is a dusty, dirty satisfying job. Being a good steward is important. Visitors to the farm go away with a good or bad idea of farming and how this farm is run. The goal is to send them off with a smile, knowing these animals (and farm) are well cared for.
Oh! The sight of a neat and tidy barn!
Word(s) . Light . Life
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The Blog Era begins here
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Living everyday with purpose, joy and gratitude.
Before I Forget: Sharing my love for God, family, gardens and my sweet Momma
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Your Guide to the Homestead or Small Farm
Fun, Photography & Friends
Sharing Stories and Lessons as I Embark in the Everyday
Handcrafted Soap, Bee Keeping, Farming and More
I take pictures | I cook | I quilt | I knit | I create
Recipes showing step by step directions with pictures and a printable recipe card.
Life is an Adventure
Speaking truth, sharing hope
The musings and adventures of an enthusiastic grower
...inspiration through words...
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