Cowboy Lukie

Cowboy Lukie is a happy go lucky sort of guy. He does everything with a smile and rarely gets upset or cries. He wanders through the day having fun with anything that comes his way, and when that includes a barn visit, all the better.

 Lukie loves the barn, and not just because there are horses. The new barn is full of interesting and delightful things to play with.

Such as Tim's "broken" mower. At least, that's what Lukie assumed when we wouldn't turn it on for him. 

He loves to try out the child sized benches in the lounge. (Like us, Tim and Loni have a big family and a passel of grandchildren so there are things at the barn just for them.)

After Goldilocksing this bench between the doors to Tim's office and the bathroom, 

Lukie asked who the man in the photo was. I don't know; I presume it is just there for decoration, but at least one other photo in the lounge is of Tim's family members, so I will have to ask.

 Grabbing the broom from the pot bellied stove that heats the lounge, Cowboy Lukie did some "cleaning."

 I plan to do some of that when the weather is a little warmer, but right now the lounge is very chilly. There are some space heaters to keep the bathroom pipes from freezing, but they're too small to warm up the entire room.

Of course, Cowboy Lukie had to have his turn on Hokey in the round pen with Aunt Lisa assisting before he went home.

You can tell that this little cowboy had a good time visiting the barn by that smile on his face. 

Mine matched.

Pony Pal Mila Goes to "Jail"

Kids some times make incorrect connections as they try to figure something out, and the results can be hilarious. Earlier this week on a beautiful sunny day, Pony Pal Mila met me out at the barn where she did just that.

 Mila and Cowboy Lukie could not wait to get to the horses. (Neither could their Grammy.)

With help from Aunt Lisa, Mila hopped onto Hokey and went for a little ride.

A visit to the tack room in the new barn to try out a saddle or two is always a must.

As is clambering up into one of Tim's carriages or wagons and pretending that you are going for a ride. 

See those black bars to the left of her? Here's a better look at that vehicle:

It's an antique paddy wagon that Tim restored. In this picture from a few months ago, the kids are in the driver's seat, but sometimes they like to go back into the jail portion and be "put in jail." 

So, is it any surprise that, when Mila looked across the indoor arena at the stalls, she put two and two together and came up with seventeen?

She asked me, "Grammy? What are those jails for?"

Oh, my! I had to contain my laughter as I didn't want to hurt her feelings. And, considering that she'd just been looking at the paddy wagon, it was a reasonable connection. There are metal bars on the stall doors just as there are on the paddy wagon.

We walked over to the other side of the barn so that I could show Mila the stalls and explain that they were where the horses stayed if they were sick or needed to be indoors for some reason.

After playing with the longe whip (Aunt Lisa had been showing the kids how to make the end pop and snap) and running up and down the aisles of the barn for a while, it was time to head back home.

Despite mistaking stalls for jails (as well as vowing that she still likes unicorns better), this girl sure has started down the path of being horsey. 

I hope it becomes a lifelong passion for her, too.

Pandemic Sewing

I am staying at home during the pandemic as asked by Indiana's governor. But even though I am retired and home quite a bit already, I have felt restless. I like to sew, I like to serve, and so what better way to do something worthwhile than to sew masks?

I looked at several online patterns and tutorials before selecting the pattern I liked best.

I have lots and lots of fabric on hand, both in the form of scraps from other projects as well as fabrics that I have bought because I liked them and knew that I could find something to make with them. (Every sewist does that, and we pile up tubs and tubs of fabrics!)

 Small prints work best for the masks and I have plenty of that in the fabrics I use to sew quiet books.

Other past sewing projects have included Christmas stockings, pillowcases, tablecloths, and pot holders. Leftover fabrics from those work well.

 The adult masks aren't hard to make, but the children's masks are so tiny and more difficult. This set is for Jessica and her family in Utah.

Since people around the world are sewing masks, too, there is a real shortage of 1/4 inch elastic, and I have had to get creative since I ran out of my supply yesterday.

I had some colorful rolled elastic and tried that in the masks for Julie, Kate, and Susie in Nashville.

Their mama is getting this fabric (one of my favorite fabrics ever!) and I am still working on Cole's plain black one. He gets my last two pieces of elastic.

Lisa asked for orange fabric, and Craig requested argyle.

I still need to hear from Sarah, Kyle, and Curt if they need masks, too, and I need one as well. I will choose something horsey, of course.

I love all three of these and have enough to make pot holders, tablecloths, and aprons out of them, but I think I can spare an 8 x 14 inch rectangle to make my own mask.

Now I wait on more 1/4 inch elastic. Everywhere in town is sold out as are the online sewing places I shop. Amazon has it, but it comes from China and there is a two week to one month wait to get it here. I'll either have to use the rolled elastic for myself or keep digging and see if I can find another source.

In the meantime, it has felt good to use my sewing skills to help out my family. And if I am able to get more elastic, I'd like to make some for the two local hospitals as well.

Dad's Slides: Purdue Horsemanship Camp

Even after Bobbie Sue and I aged out of Girl Scouts, we still had another opportunity to attend camp with horses. In June of 1973, we went to Purdue University's Horsemanship Camp near Seymour, Indiana.

The camp was actually held at the Jackson County Fairgrounds in Brownstown which butted right up to the Jackson-Washington State Forest.

This meant that we stayed in the woods and had lots of trails for hiking during our downtime. This is the cabin where the girls at the camp stayed.

 Our 4-H leader, Jerry Synaesal, hauled Cee and Starbuck, Bobbie's horse, to camp for us - Brownstown is in the southern part of Indiana and only about twenty five miles from Louisville.

 Me, Jerry, Starbuck, Bobbie, and my sister, Jenny.

 The horses were stabled in the fairground's livestock barns.

Me with Cee, Bobbie, and Starbuck letting the horses stretch their legs after the three hour drive south.

 Another view of the barns at the fairgrounds. Jenny looks comfy!

It was a wonderful week spent learning about horse care and improving our riding. This was a terrific opportunity for me since most of what I knew was from reading books and then trial and error experience with Amy, Nick, Pokey, Cee, and Flame. I will ever be grateful to Jerry Synaesal and his 4-H club for the way it started me on the path of becoming the horsewoman I wanted to be. 

There were a lot of other 4-H teens from around the state in attendance, and both English and Western disciplines were represented. We were instructed in horse care, conformation, how to show in halter and performance, and so many other aspects of horse ownership.

The 1973 Class of Purdue Horsemanship Camp graduates. I've put a blue arrow pointing to me, and Bobbie Sue is to the right of me in the blue shirt.

At the end of the week, a horse show was held so that we could show what we had learned. I was so excited to win two third place ribbons in large classes against kids who'd grown up with horses and had far more experience than me.

 In fact, those wins meant so much to me that the ribbons hang in my horse room to this day.

I was especially excited about the ribbon for horsemanship - I had felt so far behind the other campers and that win showed me that, despite my lack of lessons and experience, I could catch up with more experienced kids and that I could ride well. 

I left camp with far more confidence in my abilities to care for my horses and feeling, for the first time in my life, like I was a horsewoman.

Dad's Slides: Girl Scout Horse Camp

Before I had a horse of my own, I took advantage of every opportunity that came my way to be around them. Girl Scout Camp at Sycamore Valley in 1967 was one of those opportunities.

 Sycamore Valley was beautiful and situated on the Wildcat, a tributary of the Wabash.

I was ten and had gone to camp with my best friend, Bobbie Sue. (She was the one I used to hold backyard model horse shows with.)

Bobbie with LBJ, the camp's resident burro. (LBJ was the nickname for Lyndon B. Johnson, the President. Someone was not a fan of him when they named that donkey!)

I reveled in having access to so many horses while at camp. 

This girl reminds me of Irish Flame. That saddle sore on her back looks like it was painful.

And just look at the color on the horse behind her - oh, how I wish a photo of it by itself were in the slides that my father took!

Bobbie Sue and I went to girl scout together several times, but eventually we both dropped out of Girl Scouts when we started Junior High. 

But we continued going to horse camp together. More tomorrow!

Abby and Pepper Meet

I have waited for the weather to break to bring Pepper out to the barn with me. Today she had to get her monthly Percorten shot (it controls her Addison's Disease) and since the vet's office is just a few miles from the barn, we swung around afterward to check the horses.

 So many intriguing smells! Pepper strode briskly all over the place, investigating everything.

Abby was way out in the field, but she came up when she saw me. (Ah, the lure of a couple of peppermints!)

 Pepper took a good look at everybody from the safe side of the fence.

Then she got a little closer to Abby. Abby wasn't too interested in Pepper; she just wanted the peppermints that were in my pocket.

They didn't get any closer than this, but that was enough for a first time introduction. 

I wasn't quite sure how Pepper would react, but I was pleased that she didn't shy away from Abby or bark at the horses. I could tell that she was a bit unsure about them but she still had enough confidence to get close. This may be due to the training she received as a guide dog. I know that Seeing Eye dogs go through rigorous testing for intelligence, bravery, obedience, and the ability to learn, so who knows?

But we are definitely off on the right foot. (Er, paw? Hoof?) 

"Whoa! Oh, Crazy!"

We are living through an historic event - the COVID19 pandemic. I've been self isolating at home for four weeks now, and while I would love to resume my normal routine, I also understand the need for everyone to remain at home in order to stop the spread of the virus.

Sadly, Alan Broadbent, a friend of forty years has lost his fight with COVID19. His wife, Joanne, another dear friend, also has the virus and is at home alone fighting her own battle. She's lost her husband, she is ill, she is alone... devastating.

With Alan's death, the pandemic became very real to me. Those cheeky memes no longer seemed quite as funny or clever. I felt helpless, sad, and even frightened. If it happened to Alan and Joanne, it could happen to me. Or Craig. To my children, grandchildren, and other friends. And so on.

Yesterday was Easter Sunday, a day I usually spend in Church and then with family. We celebrated the holiday very, very differently yesterday.

During the day, Vanessa sent me a video of Pony Pal Mila and Cowboy Lukie riding their rocking horses, knowing that that would make me smile. And it did, but it also made me think.

Cowboy Lukie is really riding hard, and at the end he says something. Did you hear it?

He says, "Oh, crazy!" as he stops his pony and dismounts.

Not only did that video made me smile, but it also made me think about the loss of my friend and this terrible pandemic that we are enduring. Don't we all want to cry, "Whoa, whoa, WHOA!" like Cowboy Lukie does? And things ARE crazy and will probably remain that way for some time until we can begin our new normal.

But the video also made me think about how life goes on despite its challenges and scary moments. Cowboy Lukie and Pony Pal Mila are evidence of that. Their world will be changed by the pandemic, but we will find a cure, the pandemic will end, and life will go on.

Keep on riding, Cowboy Lukie.

Dad's Slides: Nick

St. Nicholas (named so because he was born December 23) was a Tennessee Walker/Thoroughbred cross that we bought as a two year old stallion. He came from the same breeder who sold us Flame. Why we bought two unbroken horses, one a stallion, for a thirteen year old girl and her younger sister is a mystery. But despite being an unbroken stallion, Nick was the kindest, gentlest horse I have ever known. 

 Nick getting a trim down by the river. My dad is holding him and talking to my uncle.

With his pink skin, blue eyes, and white coat, I thought Nick was an albino. But then one day when he had been out in the rain, I could see a faint blaze and that made me reconsider. I think he was actually a cremello or perlino.

We had him gelded within a week of his arrival. My youngest sister, Jenny, was six, and after the procedure was over, she turned to our father with a puzzled look and asked, "Dad, are YOU a gelding?" Even after all these years I can still hear his roar of laughter. 

I trained Nick to ride and he never gave me one bit of trouble - no bucks, no sass, just a willing acceptance to have me on his back and happy to meander wherever I wanted him to go. I was very lucky because, at thirteen and with most of my learning about training from books, I really didn't know what I was doing. 

 Leslie riding Nick with me behind them on Pokey.

We bought a beautiful black western saddle and bridle for Nick and rode him around the property and  trails in the woods. I'll never forget the time he went into a running walk with me - it was so smooth but I felt like I was flying along the trail.

I have a physical reminder of Nick that I've had since I was in 8th grade. I was cleaning his hooves, he lost his balance and wobbled, putting his foot down right onto mine. I lost my balance and fell, catching myself with my hands in the dirt. Nick took a small sidestep and stepped right on my finger.

He snapped the bone right under the knuckle and left a small scar after the broken bone healed. I could never fully bend that finger again. 

But I don't mind. The scar and stiff finger are tangible reminders of a sweet boy that I loved very much.