Home, Home on the Range
Since my last post, I’ve had a couple of conversations that have made me realize I’m not quite as unique as I thought. This is actually a relief. As it turns out, other people need examples, too, of HOW to do things before they can actually DO them. I guess this makes sense - humans were meant to live in groups and learn from one another. Think : children taking on their parents’ trade, or regions with specialty making abilities. It’s only in this day and age of everyone striving to be absolutely one-of-a-kind (especially in the art world) that following by example has become so taboo.
Anyhow, I’m feeling far less alone.
There’s been a herd of antelope visiting the far end of our property most mornings, and the other day I decided to take my camera to see if I could snap a picture or two. Often, Bisbee and I see a buck wandering through the grasses with seven or eight does - but on this day, it was just a buck. Was he the same one? A loner? I’m not sure.
We more or less walked together along our fence line for a solid ten minutes. I didn’t chase (neither did Bisbee) and he didn’t run. Somehow I lost my only pair of non-broken sunglasses along the way, but it was worth it. Seeing this single antelope felt like a sign I’ve been waiting to see - there was sadness, but hope as well. If I’m lucky, he’ll stop by again.
The return of sunshine to our region has brought out all of the property care equipment - not only for us but all of our neighbors, too. The ground finally firmed up as well which meant it was time for me to learn to mow with the tractor.
Our first summer here was dry, dry, dry. We had the tractor but were waiting for a hitch to attach the mower. This waiting wasn’t a huge deal because our lack of water meant there wasn’t much to mow anyways! Last summer, we got the hitch but I was pregnant. There was no way I was going to bump, bump, bump around the property cutting grass. But this year? No more waiting. It was go time!
Once you get past the bumpiness, mowing is very easy. Quite therapeutic. And when you cut a clean swath through a forest of weeds? Oh my…it’s addictive. Eric snuck out and took a couple picture of me mowing the riding field - but once I’d seen him, I took possession of the camera and took a few pictures myself. My little grasshopper passengers were a highlight.
Due to baby and diesel related reasons, I wasn’t able to mow the whole field in one go - so, between mowing sessions, I went out to try and get a picture of me standing next to some of the yet-unmowed sections. This lasted about 2 minutes.
First was the mosquitos. There are so many and they are so hungry - they can and will bite through a pair of jeans at this point. The last photo here is me giving up and preparing to run inside. My hands, my face, my neck were all being swarmed. I suppose I got my little mown/unmown perspective shot, but it was awful. Barely worth it. This is the reason, though, that I’m so happy we were able to cut as much as we have over the last few days…removing tall grass removes mosquito habitat.
As luck would have it, it was a really great thing I packed up when I did. I got back to my camera and tripod just in time to see a skunk trot out of the weeds pretty close to where I’d been standing. Another lucky break was that Ponderosa had just stopped to relieve herself when the skunk appeared - and she was unable to both complete her task and chase at the same time. It could have been an exceptionally stinky situation.
Though the riding field is now trimmed to an acceptable height, I have no idea if I’ll be riding any time soon. I could hop on Cirrus tomorrow or I could be waiting another couple months. I’m holding out for a day when the horses seem calm, my mental state is relaxed, the weather is cooperating, time is on my side, and I’m not nursing some bodily pain. It just hasn’t happened yet.
Interestingly though, I feel like taking a year(ish) off of riding has been a really, really good thing for me. In my time off, I’ve grown so much softer in my expectations, the result being that Cirrus, Paloma, and I have become friends - no pressure, just happy to hang out together. The last two years have honestly seemed a long and difficult road in the equine department, with a lot of crying on my part, and I’ve thought many times that I’d made a terrible mistake in moving horsekeeping to my own backyard. I could write a whole blog post on our journey and all the changes we’ve made since the day they came home, but for now I’ll just say it’s been a lot!
The important thing, though, is that we’re here now in this good place. Both horses are happy and healthy, if a little bored at the moment. I am at peace with our setup and am enjoying the little horse time I can. I’ve learned to loosen my grip on control. Let the ones in my care help decide what form their care should take. Slow the spiral of obsession. I’m still learning to pivot when one of my “brilliant ideas” is met with a “nahhhh…” but I’m getting there.
I am exceptionally glad that I embarked on this journey before adding a kiddo to the mix. These lessons are translating seamlessly to my time with Remi.
The first photo in this set is of the horses’ home now. Gone are the hay bags, dropped strategically around the track - after I slipped and fell in the mud last September, seven months pregnant, I was done with them. Instead, I set up some metal panels to divide the loop of our track into a U shape. Water and shelter live on one side of the barrier, about .2 miles from hay (in the green, covered hut) on the other. Not pictured are a net in the hut, to slow eating time, and a gate in the barrier for humans to pass through.
We put hay out just once a week now, a twenty minute job, and the horses spend their days traveling from resource to resource. It’s almost effortless for us and our animals get to walk several miles a day, judging by the number of times we see them move from food to water. Someday I’d like to put trackers on them and put an exact number to that daily commute.
The latest addition to horse-land are the black mud panels on the ground, to keep hooves from sinking (aka, digging holes) into the earth where they stand to eat. Before this fix, there was a DEEP hole in front of each window of the hut - not good for horse feet or posture. The panels seem to have solved the problem, so I’m glad of that, but they also used up all of my savings for a small, fenced riding space. Back to the beginning with that project!
Since sunnier weather has arrived, I’ve been turning both horses out in our little pastures for a couple hours in the early morning. The grass is lowest in sugar at the beginning of the day, something that has become critical in regards to Cirrus’s health, but everything is so lush I have to put them in muzzles to slow down how much they eat. Eric refers to these contraptions as horsey Hannibal Lecter masks (which always elicits an eye roll from me).
It’s hard to believe my eyes when I see them (especially Cirrus) looking so domesticated in muzzles and fly masks and mosquito sheets - it’s even more shocking when they see me carrying these things and “help” me to put them on. It appears my wildest dependents are finally accepting and beginning to enjoy the benefits of domesticated life.