Every Dog Has His Day

Cymba and Barney both went to the Northwest Florida Classic this weekend. Cymba chose to compete with Alexis, and Barney chose to compete with Leslie. They took Schatzi along for entertainment.

Even though Cymba was very clear with Alexis that he wanted to be able to see out of his trailer window, Alexis refused to take out the screen. This left Cymba with no recourse but to break through the screen in order to stick his head out of the window.

"He was nickering at the passing cars," said Alexis. "Someone needs to tell him he's not a dog."

But of course Cymba KNOWS he's not a dog. He's half Thoroughbred, half Holsteiner. (That would be one big dog.) Besides, Cymba had a good reason to stick his head out of the trailer and call to nearby cars. He was celebrating!

Cymba brought home two blue ribbons (He gives Alexis SOME of the credit for those. Okay, MOST of the credit. But the ribbons are still his.)

And he was pleased to announce to everyone that his buddy Barney brought home three blue ribbons and a second place ribbon.

"Barney rocks," Cymba told the press. "He's the best I've seen in my 20 years. Besides me, of course."

Schatzi brought home a first and a fourth. Cymba was a little miffed at Schatzi that first day because Schatzi acted like a crazy man in the arena and reared up on Alexis, who was leading him. (Cymba is very protective of Alexis, and he didn't like to hear that Schatzi was giving her a hard time.)

"He's just a baby," Barney told Cymba. "Give him some slack."

"I'll give him slack when he works like the rest of us," Cymba replied. "He's just spoiled."

"You're the one who's spoiled," said Barney.

And the argument continued from there.

There are two things that are certain. Leslie and Alexis did a fantastic job at the show, and anyone on I-10 traveling when the Forever Sky trailer was on the road had the pleasure of seeing Cymba with his head hung out the window, and if they were lucky, they got to hear his beautiful nicker.

Congratulations, Alexis and Leslie! We are so happy you had a great weekend!

Backing up, Backing up....You got it. You got it.

In an earlier post, I introduced you to the ranch Mule--not the four-legged creature, but the four-wheeled creature--the machine that makes the ranch go round. Janine drives the Mule more than anyone. She is the caretaker of the ranch. The Manager. She is more precious than diamonds--or any other comparison you can think of. She's more precious to me than cream-filled donuts--and that is saying A LOT.

There is no one in the world more responsible and trustworthy than Janine. She is amazing. When she goes off to vet school in a couple of years I am going to close myself in my room and cry for a week. But no need to talk about that now.

Janine is meticulous. She is focused. She is organized. And she is completely and utterly dangerous with that Mule. Last month she had an incident with a large, hollow post that was placed strategically to keep people like Janine from running into the electrical transformer. Luckily, that particular post had not yet been filled with concrete. It took just a moment. She looked over her shoulder when two horses started squealing, and the Mule (of its own accord, okay) rammed itself into the green cylinder.

That was last month.

Today, I walked into the barn and I saw that look on her face. The look that says she really wishes she used bad language, because bad language would truly capture the moment. But Janine doesn't use bad language at all--so instead, she has that look.

"I ran into the door when I was backing up the Mule," she said, gritting her teeth.

"Does it still close?" I asked, thinking she meant the doors to the barn itself.

"We need a new hinge."

It was then I realized she meant a stall door. A precious stall door. (Not more precious than Janine, though...)

I retrieved the drill so we could remove the mutilated lower hinge. "You've just about removed this yourself," I said. The hinge was barely hanging on. Amazingly, the door looked as good as new, just without its lower support.

"You're dangerous with that thing," I said.

I don't remember if Janine nodded, smiled, rolled her eyes, or actually responded. The image in my head is of her walking away with that poor, disfigured chunk of metal, determination in her eyes. It didn't matter what million things she had to do that day. Dang it, she was going to find another hinge and fix that door. She was on a mission.

I couldn't help smiling. Yes, I would take Janine over cream-filled donuts any day. And like I said, that's saying A LOT.

Richard Jernigan and the Ranch at Forever Sky

I saw my first Indiana Jones' movie when I was 8 years old. Raiders of the Lost Ark. It was a fantastic experience. I had nightmares for at least two years--not about the snakes (always loved snakes) but about the guy getting cut up by the airplane propeller. Ewwww.

I make no secret that I am a huge Indiana Jones fan. I can't even tell you how many times I saw The Last Crusade in the theatre. It would be embarrassing. And I watched The Temple of Doom some ungodly number of times--I had it taped from TV on a VHS--something my children will know absolutely nothing about. (VHS to them will equal 8-track to me.)

So when I first saw Richard, I have to admit I was a bit stunned. He had the hat. I mean THE HAT. The hat that could never fall off, never get blown away, the hat that would never part with Indiana Jones through rain, wind, or weird voodoo people trying to extract his heart.

He had the HAT. And what was amazing was that he wore it well. I mean, you see Richard in that hat, and you suddenly feel like all men should wear hats. Not the silly baseball caps. Not the pretentious cowboy hats. Real hats.

Then I found out that he was a professor who taught History at PJC... I mean, does it get better than that?

Actually yes, yes it does. Because as part of the Forever Sky family, Richard rides horses.

I have to say that out of all of our Forever Sky family, Richard is the most debonair, most elegant in his speech, most poised in his gait--(I'm sure I'm embarrassing the heck out of him now. Sorry Richard!) But really, seeing Richard walk into the barn is like watching something not quite real. It's like watching a movie.

Richard is Forever Sky's Indiana Jones. I haven't seen the whip yet, but I bet it's somewhere in his car...or in the tack room!

Welcome to the family, Richard!

Horses, Play, and Spring--three really good things.

All the horses at Forever Sky have been extra playful during these last several days, ever since the sun finally decided to show its face and warm the air a bit. Maybe they are just as happy as we are to be rid of this cold, wet nastiness. They ARE Florida horses, after all. They're only supposed to wear their blankets two days out of the year, not two months!

Christine was out cleaning the pastures this weekend when Schatzi came nosing around the mule. First he took her water bottle in his mouth and dropped it on the ground. Then he grabbed her jacket, shook it, and playfully reared and took off across the pasture. He ran circles, shaking the jacket and tossing it in the air. When Christine finally retrieved her jacket, Schatzi ran and grabbed the loose fly mask that Christine had put in the mule. He tossed it in the air a few times before letting Christine have it back.

Meanwhile, the Donkey was braying. The babies were spunky. Even Lady, who is over 20 years old, was feeling spry. She suddenly started galloping around her pasture for what seemed to be no good reason. No one was chasing her. She wasn't chasing anyone. She was just running.

Some years ago, I read an article in National Geographic called "Animals at Play." Every so often I think about that piece when I see the horses running around and kicking up their hooves or when they are being downright mischievous, trying to bait you into some manner of play. The gist of the article was that all intelligent animals need playtime.

Today I was standing next to Schatzi's stall when Richard grabbed his halter off the wall and flung it toward me. It was as if he were saying, "Excuse me. I'm over here. That horse doesn't need attention. I DO. Play with me."

So this is me, throwing my halter at you. As we approach the first day of spring (March 20th), take some time to find your playful side. Run for no reason. Laugh out loud. Toss a ball in the air. Hop on your horse bareback. Do anything fun and frivolous.

Just Play.

The Real Mule

One of the nice things about the location of Forever Sky is that the water table is fairly high. Even in the driest months, we can have beautiful pasture--(NOT a problem these days.) But where there are low spots on the property, the ground stays wet. Those low spots aren't an issue at all for the barn, which is built on a huge mound of dirt, and they aren't much of an issue for the pastures, because they were designed to drain. But especially during this perpetually wet weather, those low spots ARE an issue for the Mule.

The beloved Mule.

No, not the animal. Our Mule is a Kawasaki utility vehicle we use for just about everything on the ranch.

The poor thing looks drove hard and put up wet--or in this case, muddy. The body is beat up, the seats are torn, even the frame is bent. Before we replaced the tailgate, we used to have to carry a hammer with us to beat in the corners whenever it would refuse to latch. You'd suddenly hear a loud banging noise and turn to find Janine whacking the crap out of the Mule with the hammer. To someone who didn't know better, it looked as if Janine had finally gone mad, or that she was taking out her anger on a helpless piece of machinery. (She actually saves that for the mice...)

Despite its appearance, we love the mule. It has its own personality, much like the Velveteen Rabbit, all beat up and shabby from years of love and hugs, or in this case, wrecks and getting stuck in the mud.

We bought the Mule new before there was a barn, when there was just a fenced pasture and a lot of mucky mud where trees were being cleared. It became a form of initiation to get the mule stuck. And then get the 4-wheeler stuck trying to pull out the mule. (And on one occasion, getting the tractor stuck while trying to retrieve the 4-wheeler that was unsuccessful in retrieving the mule. We had to call in the Bulldozer on that one, and I'm really glad the guy who pulled me out lost those pictures.)

So when Carla told me today that she sank into the mud while driving the mule through an area where we had recently cleared more trees, I laughed.

"Well, you're not really part of the family until you've gotten that mule stuck."

And so, muddy and dented, with chipped paint and torn seats, the Forever Sky Mule is much more than an old beat-up piece of machinery. It stands for all the hard work that has gone into building the ranch and all the hard work that keeps the ranch going. The Mule is our mascot. And to us, he's not just a vehicle.

Like the old Skin Horse said to the Velveteen rabbit: "Generally by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real, you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

Full Circle

I met Alix at the barn where I first boarded Sky. Her horse, Promise, occupied a stall across the aisle from us. It's funny, if you ask me what I remember about Alix, it's a day that she was taping the plastic pull-out drawers she kept next to her stall. She wanted to keep them free from dust when they blew out the barn. She always seemed so serious to me. Straightforward. Meticulous. Purposeful. Of course, I suppose as a Navy pilot (an instructor, no less), and a woman pilot at that, the chances of seeing her dancing through the barn singing a Mary Poppins' tune and twirling an umbrella would be somewhat slim.

But I don't know. I never got to know Alix very well.

Nevertheless, that memory of her stays with me. I think about it every time I see dust in my barn. Now, I realize that some dust is inevitable in a barn. "It's a BARN, Jolee," my friends tell me. But the dust doesn't make me happy. Of course when you blow out all the hay and shavings that have accumulated on the floor, you inevitably look around and find DUST. I am already planning to buy a barn vacuum so all the dust gets sucked up and not blown here and there. Yes, I am a bit obsessive about it. (I would like to blame Alix and her tape for my dust obsession...but it's true that my mom used to clean the baseboards with Q-tips.)

Last week, I got a call from Alix about boarding Promise at Forever Sky. The lovely place she had her horse, where she was happy and things were good, was shutting down. She had to find a new place.

"I saw you from the Sky," said Alix.
I could just see her in that T-34 Navy aircraft, observing the area like a graceful bird gliding through the air. (The positive thing about being 2000ft up is that you can't see dust.)

"What did it look like?" I asked.
"Big and green," she said with a slight smile. "With lots of horses."

And now one of those horses is Promise.

Promise. Hope. Expectation. Assurance. I have a feeling that Alix brings all of those things with her. And for me, it's almost as if part of some story has come full circle.

But maybe this time, in this story, I'll have the chance to get to know Alix better.

Welcome, Alix and Promise, to Forever Sky!

You gotta love the 80's

I never let anyone drive my tractor. Maybe it's a personal issue that goes back to someone stealing my bike or something when I was a kid. I don't know. But that tractor is mine. I bought it and I drive it. Oops. Sorry guys. I operate it.

Until today. Dang.

I have become so busy with what is happening at the ranch, not to mention trying to keep a neat house and take care of twin boys, that I finally had to raise the white flag and ask for help fencing the last three pastures. A friend of mine runs a construction business, and he found someone to do the work for me.

Only one thing went through my mind when I saw this man.

ZZ Top.

I've never seen a beard that long outside of a "She's Got Legs" video or a news broadcast about the Taliban.

I mean, I stared. I really stared. (He was actually wearing Cheap Sunglasses, and I swear could suddenly hear "Oh Yeah! Oh Yeah! Oh Yeah!"

Now, I had a pretty rough time last week. The stress had begun to take its toll. I was so exhausted that I felt sad. But when I handed the tractor keys to ZZ Top man and watched him climb onto my beautiful piece of machinery, I was suddenly struck by the urge to laugh out loud. I bit my tongue instead, because I knew if I started laughing, I wasn't going to be able to stop, not until I looked completely insane.

I did, however, smile.

And from that moment, I knew this week would be better than the last.

"Ah, Have Mercy"