Beyond Watermelon

Allen dropped me off this morning so I could pick up my car from the shop. It had been there since September 10th, 12 days ago, when I had a blow-out on my way home from the ranch and found out that the tires to my hybrid weren't so easily replaced. I could have picked up the car much sooner (9 days sooner), but I didn't want to spare the time since I was preparing for the FSR Schooling Show and needed every last minute to work. I drove my truck instead.

As we were driving to get my car, I realized, with horror, that I had forgotten something of vital importance.

I gasped.

"What's wrong?" Allen asked.

"I left a watermelon in the car."

At the time, when the tow-truck driver dropped off the car, I had assumed I would pick it up the next day. When the Chevy people told me it would take the weekend to fix, I didn't think about the watermelon. And by the time I decided not to worry about getting the car until the show was over, I had forgotten about the watermelon altogether.

I don't think it's necessary to describe to any of you what 90-degree heat (higher inside a closed vehicle) does to ripe fruit.

What is important to tell you is that I have an unusual phobia. I can handle blood and guts with ease. I can deal with dog puke or kid puke or any manner of poop. None of that bothers me at all. But I can't bring myself to go near a rotten fruit or vegetable. Just the sight of a sunken tomato is enough to make my stomach turn. And the smell...oh God, the smell.

So I pulled out of the Chevy dealership like a crazy person. I had to find a dumpster and fast, and I was struggling to stay within 5 miles of the speed limit, but it's hard to race away from the stench--and not speed--when the stench is in the seat behind you.

I ended up driving to the University where I knew I could find an open dumpster and no one would ask questions. Or try to stop me. (I could just see a helpless Walmart employee trying to keep me from using their dumpster. I'm sure the scenario would involve me getting a mug-shot taken and a headline of "Lunatic Assaults Employee with a Rotten Watermelon. Story at 6."

Just recalling how I gathered up the squishy mess with old ranch towels makes me want to run to the bathroom holding my stomach. But I was able to scoop the nastiness up and throw it out, even though the towels made their way into the dumpster along with the rotting red nastiness.

Getting rid of the melon, though, did not get rid of the smell. I was reminded of the Seinfield episode "The Smelly Car." Jerry says, "You don't understand what I'm up against. This is a force more powerful than anything you can imagine. Even Superman would be helpless against this kind of stench."

So I drove home and literally emptied a gallon of odor and stain removal on the carpet where the putrid juice had poured out. Then I went to it with the steam cleaner. I admit the smell was better, but not totally gone. I sprayed the area again with Oxy Carpet Stain Remover and left it soaking with the windows open.

"It's just a watermelon," said Allen.

"It's beyond watermelon," I replied. In fact, I still feel dirty. *shiver*

I can't tell you how happy I am that I have to drive the truck tomorrow. I am trailering Adonis over to Mirka's for a lesson. With any luck, the smell won't still be clinging to me like an entity. But maybe I should warn her, or at least bring her a clothespin for her nose, just in case.

And I think I'll shower a few more times before I go to bed.

Possibly Praising Parelli or Perhaps his Protégée

I have to be honest that my first experience with "Parelli" wasn't great. I started reading his book Natural Horse-Man-Ship not long after I adopted Sky, and I stopped reading after 8 pages.

First, he introduces a program that "comes in 41 words and begins with the letter P." When I started reading "Pat Parelli proudly presents his programs and the proclamation that prior and proper...." I have to say my first thought was, "You've got to be kidding me."

In the next paragraph, Parelli goes on to write:

"I've identified 103 ingredients in Natural Horse-Man-Ship, and these concepts are the basis of this text. I list them in a particular order: 1,2,4,6,8,and 10. Added together, they equal 31. There are two sets of these numbers (1,2,4,6,8,10). 31+31=62. Add the 41 P's. 31+31+41=103."

If I had been Parelli's editor, I would have said, "You really want to put all those P's in there? And the numbers? Really? Cause if I were your reader, those things would make me put the book down."

And they did. I put the book down and I didn't pick it back up. If I heard someone refer to the Parelli method, I immediately thought, "I know what that is...all those P's and numbers."

I didn't give Parelli a second thought after that, not until I met Mirka.

Mirka was trained in the Parelli method when she was a teenager. I have to say, though, that I don't consider her a "Parelli" trainer. She is a "Mirka" trainer. She uses Parelli methods, but she also uses her brain, her heart, and her entire soul when she works with horses. The Parelli method is a foundation for her knowledge base, because it makes sense to her. But she continues to expand her horizons exponentially.

I have always been a big fan of Natural Horsemanship. The book that I picked up after I put Parelli down was written by a man named Mark Rashid. Once I started reading Rashid's books, I couldn't stop. I'd be up at 2am, finishing one of his books and crying my eyes out.

"Isn't that a horse training book?" My husband once asked me, a bit concerned at my display.

"Yee-ssss," I managed to say between sobs.

I actually wrote a letter to Mark after reading all of his books. It was something like 3 pages long. I let my husband read it before I mailed it because, well, he's my best editor.

"You're in love with this guy," Allen said flatly.

"Yeah. I know."

And I was in love with him--in love with all of his principles regarding horses. I still am. I have my fingers crossed that he will include Forever Sky Ranch in his 2011 workshop tour. We're on the list.

(Mirka is the only person I have ever mentioned "Mark Rashid" to who knew what I was talking about. I really like that.)

The list of things I like about Mirka continues to grow. I like that she is straight-forward. She is quick to give praise when praise is warranted, but she doesn't sugar-coat her criticism. I respect that. I like her compassion toward horses, how she strives to earn leadership over her horses out of respect instead of dominance. I suppose when it comes down to it, I feel like I "get" where Mirka is coming from. As a yoga instructor, I understand the power of our body's energy, how you can direct that energy, and how that energy can affect everyone around you. Mirka uses her body's energy to direct her horses' movements. I totally dig that. Better yet, I understand it.

It has never been a secret that one of my big desires is to create an obstacle course at FSR and to someday host Obstacle Playdays or Horse Agility tournaments. Imagine my super excitement to learn that Mirka often hosts such activities. This past Sunday I ventured out to one of Mirka's Horse Agility Tournaments. I went as an observer. (Adonis and I will go together next time.) The ease with which Mirka works with her equine companions is astonishing, and I can say the same for everyone who participated this past Sunday.

The whole experience was so magical that Nikki, another one of the observers (and Rodeo Queen at Tate, I might add), asked, "Does Mirka give lessons to anyone? Or does she only work within her group?"

"No," was my remark. "It's a tight knit circle. She doesn't give lessons to just anyone." The dry humor was apparent in my voice. I've never seen a more open circle, actually. And while Mirka's schedule is tight, she's available to anyone who wants to learn a better way of working with horses.

(I mean, she agreed to give ME lessons, after all!)

I have communicated on Facebook with several of Mirka's "circle" over the last several weeks, but until Sunday I hadn't met anyone. As one of the horses was chasing a cow as part of the exercise, my friend Cheryl said to me, "That's what Forever Sky needs, a cow." Hearing the name "Forever Sky" Kelly turned around and asked in the most pleasant, friendly voice, "Are you Jolee?" Like I said, it's an open, inviting circle.

(I hope you're feeling much much better, Kelly! Can't wait to get to know you better!)

I have to say that finding Mirka has rejuvenated my passion for working with horses. And fairly soon I will start putting up my own agility course at FSR.

For now, though, I am working to complete our awesome cross county course. Alexis and I will be hard at it tomorrow as we finish up working on our interesting and exciting cross-country obstacles.

I was honored to have Mirka and her student Natalie sign up to ride the course. I will be excited to have them at Forever Sky.

And I am excited to be taking lessons with Mirka. I have to say that I never, in my wildest imagination, thought you would find a Parelli Carrot Stick by my saddle. But these days, you can. And I'm even using a rope halter with Adonis! (For those of you aware of my halter fetish, you understand how significant that is.)

But hey...life is about change. Embrace the unknown. And follow your dreams.

I am.

Barn Manager + Power Tools = New Gate

I finished installing our new electric gate today. I was very proud of myself. I had been putting off working on the cursed thing for over two months because, frankly, it intimidated me. I had to hook up a marine battery to a solar panel and then connect them to the gate opener, which I had to install properly on the metal gate. I knew that if I just sat down with the whole mess that I could figure it out. But the instructions, at first glace, looked a bit like Chinese translated to Russian, translated to some African tongue, and then finally translated to English. Some things just didn't make sense.

But I did it. The gate works. Except for the keypad. Apparently the one I purchased doesn't function on the same MHz as the gate opener. "Of course," I thought.

So I still have to get a keypad, but that should be easy enough.

The reason we needed a new gate?

Janine.

Let me take you back a few months. It's early on a Sunday morning. And it's storming. The rain is whipping down in sheets and the wind is gusting. Janine (our barn manager) is trying to GET OUT to make it to church. Alexis (our trainer) is trying to GET IN so she can load up her horse and head to a horse show.

Back up one more day....

"Janine, would you make sure to lock the gate before you go to bed?" I asked. "I saw a strange truck drive up yesterday. Makes me uncomfortable."

"I will," said Janine.

Famous last words.

So it's storming. And Janine can't get the padlock unlocked. (She had the correct key, so who knows what the problem was. Did it rust?) By the time they were working with the bolt cutters trying to get the chain off, Janine and Alexis were soaking wet. You could have wrung them out and they'd still be dripping. The chain was too strong, however. Nothing they attempted worked.

"I need to get in!" screamed Alexis over the pounding of the rain and the cracking thunder.
"I need to get out!" yelled Janine.

They called me about this time, and I jumped in my car to head that way. But I wasn't going to make it in time, not for Janine to make it to church or for Alexis to make it to the horse show.

"Just do what you need to do," I told Janine.

And she did.

She walked back through the pouring rain to the barn and retrieved the battery-powered saw.
I didn't see Janine actually hacking away at the wooden post that held the gate together, but I could envision it as plain as day.

There she was, that determined look in her eyes, wielding a saw. No way was a stupid gate going to keep her from getting to church. No way in hell.

And it didn't.

Alexis never made it to the horse show, however. They cancelled it due to bad weather.

I have to say, I almost miss seeing that poor, ragged, wooden stump hanging from the old metal gate. But I have put so much time into putting up the new gate that from now on I think I might just hide the power tools.

Habitat for Horses-- (The story about Janine wielding the electric hacksaw will have to wait)

This was going to be a blog about our new gate, the one we had to install because Janine cut the other one down with a hacksaw during a rain storm. (Yes, it's a story you'll want to hear.)

But this week I received an email from Habitat for Horses. In that email was a story about Prince.

HFH received a call from the police about a horse that was down and almost dead. They responded to the call immediately (as they always do) and what they found was far worse than anything they could have imagined. "There was very little life left in this guy," writes Jerry, the president of HFH, "Laying in the hot sun for days on end, he was so wasted away that he looked like a shadow."


Habitat managed to get this poor soul home to their ranch and into the arms of their Anderson Sling, where "Prince" began to revive with fresh water, hay, and love.

I'd like to tell you that this story is unusual, that this type of cruelty doesn't happen every day. But it does. And for many years, Habitat for Horses has been there to help those helpless ponies and give hope to situations that seem hopeless.

But there was one phrase in the HFH newsletter that actually made me cringe.

Jerry writes, "Every month is a struggle to meet our expenses and, without a doubt, this summer has been the hardest. Horses are dying of starvation, horses are abandoned in grassless pastures, and they are crying out for our help. The economy is hurting a lot of people and our donations are way down. For the first time in ages, I'm scared. Will we be able to survive?"

I admit I have a special attachment to Habitat for Horses. They are the ones who made it possible for me to have the horsey love of my life, Naysa. Naysa was a lost cause. But HFH drove 4 hours to Louisiana to rescue her--to take her mutilated, tortured body back to where they could try to save her. And they did save her, though it took three surgeries to get all the bone fragments out of her sinus cavity and months and months of daily treatment to keep the infection from killing her.

I know money is tight everywhere. My family is struggling. The ranch is struggling. We are all fighting to keep our heads above water in this economic climate. And we've all had to cut back our spending. When we get pleas for donations, we look at our check books and think that we would love to help, but just can't afford to. Maybe later, we think.

But Habitat for Horses might not have a "later."

They need our help NOW.

And I have an idea.

I'm going to take the money I would normally spend this week on two or three bottles of wine, and I'm going to send it to Habitat. I'll drink water, instead. It's an itty bitty sacrifice.

What itty bitty sacrifice can you make this week so that Habitat can continue helping horses?

Keep in mind that ANY AMOUNT OF MONEY HELPS. Please send what you can. Soon.

Habitat for Horses is a nonprofit 501.c.3. Donations to Habitat for Horses are tax-deductible to the extent permitted by law. You may donate by mail to Habitat for Horses, P.O. Box 213, Hitchcock, TX 77563 or you can visit their website, www.habitatforhorses.org, and follow the donation prompts.

THANK YOU, everyone. It's rare that I send out a request like this. (Actually, I don't think I ever have.) And I appreciate your time. Watch for the next FSR blog, where you'll get to hear about Janine attacking our gate with an electric saw. (Love you Janine!!)

You Find Out Who Your Friends Are

That song "Find Out Who Your Friends Are" by Tracy Lawrence has been running through my head at an almost continual rate since last Saturday, when I thought the dream of Forever Sky might just die.

Everybody wants to slap your back
Wants to shake your hand
When you’re up on top of that mountain

Let one of those rocks get wet
And you slide back down
Look up and see who’s around then

This ain't where the road comes to an end
This ain't where the band wagon stops
This is just one of those times when
A lotta folks jump off.

You find out who your friends are
Somebody’s gonna drop everything
Run out and crank up their car
Hit the gas, get there fast
Never stop to think “what’s in it for me?”
Or “It’s way too far.”
They just show on up
With their big ol’ heart
You find out who your friends are.

The funny thing is that I didn't realize I HAD so many friends. True friends. People who would go out of their way to help me out, to help the ranch out.

Saturday night I feared we weren't going to be able to make the ranch work. The next afternoon at 4:00, my ENTIRE BARN had conveened to figure out what we could do to save what we had.

"It's what family does," said Diane. "When things get rough, family pulls together."

And because of that family, it looks as though Forever Sky will be stronger than ever. I just have to do my best to stop "thinking with my heart" as Alexis puts it. But the truth is, I'm not a business woman. I'm a horse lover. A people lover. A lover of life. A writer. It's not in my nature to make the figures work! But I guess I have to. (Good thing Leslie's a book keeper!)

Now I have this feeling in my core that I can't explain. It's some combination of awe, joy, embarassment, thankfulness, love, astonishment, wonder, and excitement.

I'll never be able to thank all of the people who have offered their care and concern, who have given their all to help out, who have prayed unceasingly....all the people who have shown me what it means to be a friend. I will spend my life doing my best to repay such kindness.

I have always lived my life on faith. I trust that if I work my hardest. If I give more than I get. If I listen more than I talk. If I follow the path set before me. If I trust in God, then everything will work out. It might not work out the way I want, but it will work out the way it's supposed to.

Now, more than ever before, I realize that Forever Sky Ranch has become much more than a barn and pastures and fencing. I also realize that it no longer belongs just to me. It belongs to my family--to all those people who have made it, and continue to make it, what it is. It also belongs to those people we have yet to meet, those of you who will one day join our family. We'll welcome you with open arms. And on that day, I'll be able to say, without reservation, that as part of the Forever Sky Family, you will never lack for love and support.

Thank you so much, my friends. I love you. All of you.

"Excuse me, have you seen my ass?"

Some of you know that I moved Dexter and The Donkey (aka Raya) to my house a few weeks ago. Sarah and Cynthia wanted to bring their horses to the ranch, so I called Janine and asked if we had room for them (Janine IS the barn guru after all.) Because we haven't finished fencing the new pastures, Janine's answer was a resounding NO. No room in the Inn.

So I made room. I hooked up the trailer, loaded up the ponies, and took them to my back yard.

Interestingly enough, we own the one lot in our subdivision that can have horses--or whatever else we might want. We joked for years about getting chickens and goats, to the chagrin of our neighbors, of course. We never really thought the backyard would hold anything but two rambunctious dogs. Guess anything is possible.

I didn't know exactly what would happen when I unloaded Raya and Dexter and unleashed them on my backyard. I unhooked their halters, and....

they grazed.

After a little while, they found the roomy back porch and decided it made a good run-in shelter. They used the chair cushions as play toys. They became fond of looking in the windows. They made a game of stalking the cats. They conned our neighbors into giving them carrots over the fence. Raya even discovered that she could start braying early in the morning loud enough to get me hustling to get her food.

They were happy.

But then space opened up for them at the ranch once again, so today I backed my trailer into my driveway and prepared to load up the babies and take them back "where they belong."

I have a feeling, however, that Dexter has known for some time exactly where he belongs: the living room. And since he hadn't had a chance to guilt-trip us into letting him inside, Dexter was certain that his stay at the homestead was not over. He refused to get on the trailer. Now, this is a pony that has walked with me into the breakroom at the ranch while I got a drink from the fridge. The same pony that we took to the NWFAC Christmas party and walked him past a mechanical bull to a tiny room and had his picture made with Santa. The pony that has always stepped right up into the trailer.

After about fifteen minutes, he finally loaded. Brat.

I was worried, though, about Raya. At the ranch, Janine and Josh had to get behind her with a butt rope and push while I pulled. But today, I had only my husband, Allen, with me.

My main concern was that Raya might bolt, something she does with glee whenever she gets the whim. And once she has decided to bolt, that's it. You can hang on and go for a bumpy ride, but there's nothing you can do to stop her.

At the ranch, it's no big deal. If she bolts, she bolts. There's no where for her to go. But in my front yard, if she took off, there would be a donkey loose in the neighborhood.

"I'd have to go door to door," I told my mom, "asking people if they had seen a donkey."

My mom stifled a laugh. "Or 'Excuse me, have you seen my ass?'"

"Mom!" I exclaimed.

"Hey, it's from your mom. It's in the Bible."

(I'm still cracking up about that.)

As it turned out, Raya was fairly easy to load. Once she had her front feet on the ramp, I called my son Matthew over to help. He grabbed one end of a lead rope and Allen held the other. They had barely touched her and she walked right into the trailer.

Now the backyard seems just a bit too empty, though I'm sure the grass is taking a sigh of relief--what's left of it, that is. I know Raya and Dex are better off at the ranch--or at least my backyard is better off now that they are AT the ranch. But I'll sure miss Raya braying in the morning and seeing Dexter sacked out on the lawn, sound asleep.

Eat, Pray, Love

I have to admit that I am a huge Twilight fan. I read the entire 4-book series in 5 days. Last year I found myself up at 2am reading New Moon, determined to finish the book before going to sleep. Then like an addict I started Eclipse at 3am without even a bathroom break.

I went to see the movie rendition of Eclipse today. While the movie itself was "okay," what really stayed with me was the trailer for the movie "Eat, Pray, Love." Julia Roberts plays the main character.

"I used to have this appetite for my life," she says. "And it's just gone."

As I get closer to 40, with all the stresses of life, I often wonder how I can hold on to the little girl inside me, the one who can't wait to plunge into life, the one who isn't afraid to trust, the one who loves freely and openly, whose insides are bursting with excitement for everything that life has to offer.

I admit I was starting to doubt it was possible to hold on to such passion for life. Maybe it slowly died, I thought, with every hurt, with every disappointment, with every betrayal.

Then I met Cher.

Cher walked into my barn this past April with a dream. She wanted to get her first horse. Once she had voiced her dream, Cher set out with passionate determination to find an equine companion. After a few disappointments (and one lost deposit from an incredibly unfair woman in Georgia), Cher found Lily.

The day she brought Lily home to the ranch was something to see. I have never seen someone so happy to get a horse. I mean, I wasn't even that happy the day I got Sky, and I was pretty darn happy that day! (Sorry Sky! You know I love you!)

Not only did Cher seem happy to have her Lily-pad, she seemed happy about everything, sort of like a 14-yr-old girl who still thinks life is a bundle of roses with endless possibilities.

Did I mention that Cher is 62?

If I didn't, it's because age isn't something you think about when you meet Cher. She's a beautiful woman. You think that. She has a figure to die for. You think that. She is sweet. You definitely think that. Genuine. Yes. Energetic. Yep. But age? Nope. Not something that crosses your mind.


Really, Cher actually makes me feel old.

"You don't start getting old," says Cher, "until you decide that you are all grown up!"

I'm definitely not all grown up (just ask my mom!) so I suppose there is hope for me yet.

The day Lily arrived, Cher taped this letter to Lily's stall:

DEAR FRIENDS AT FOREVER SKY RANCH,

I WANTED TO INTRODUCE MYSELF. MY NAME IS CHER; I'M A CHRISTIAN AND A NEW MEMBER OF YOUR FAMILY HERE AT FSR! I JUST PURCHASED MY VERY FIRST HORSE!!! I'VE WANTED ONE SINCE AGE 3 (ASKED FOR ONE EVERY BIRTHDAY AND CHRISTMAS OF MY LIFE) AND I'M GETTING READY TO TURN 63, SO IT'S BEEN A LONG 60 YEARS COMING! IT'S A DREAM COME TRUE FOR ME!! CAN YOU TELL HOW EXCITED I AM? . . . AND IT'S NOT EVEN CHRISTMAS!! I KNOW I HAVE SOOOO MUCH TO LEARN AND I WILL DO MY BEST TO OBSERVE PROPER BARN ETIQUETTE AND FOLLOW THE BARN RULES. IF I MESS UP, PLEASE LET ME KNOW RIGHT AWAY AND I WILL TRY TO NOT REPEAT THE MISTAKE. (IF I DO, JUST WRITE ON A POST-IT AND STICK IT ON MY FOREHEAD!!) I WILL TRY NOT TO BE A PAIN IN THE BUTT WITH THE MANY QUESTIONS I'M GOING TO HAVE. I HOPE YOU CAN BE PATIENT WITH ME WHILE I ABSORB EVERYTHING THERE IS TO KNOW ABOUT CARING FOR A HORSE AND IMPROVING MY EQUESTRIAN SKILLS.
I CAN'T WAIT TO MEET YOU ALL AND THANKS FOR LETTING ME BECOME A MEMBER OF THE FOREVER SKY FAMILY! I JUST LOVE THIS PLACE!

CHER HEFFERNAN, LILY'S MOM

I smiled when I read that note. It was full of such life and energy, such warmth. I knew then that Cher coming to Forever Sky was a blessing of some sort, like a gift from an angel. (Actually, if I found out that Cher WAS an Angel, I wouldn't be surprised one bit. I'd probably say something like, "And?")

A few weeks ago I was having a moment of inner turmoil. Something inside me looked to Cher for what I hoped would be a small piece of advice. Her return email was long, thoughtful, and caring. It actually brought me to tears. She ended her wonderful letter by writing

"Pray. Be yourself. Be happy."

Thank you, Cher. For being part of the family at Forever Sky. For your laughter. Your joy. Your friendship. And your smile. But most of all, THANK YOU for showing me that regardless of what life throws at you, it IS possible to hold on to your appetite for life, your passion, your excitement, and your love.