Still in the snow

Wow, it doesn't stop, the snow.

Snow hanging onto the chicken coop

 I am blown away, we don't normally have such an intense winter here in the  Treasure Valley.

The door to the garage/feed room was blown open today and the snow blew right in

 It is making for some great pictures and fun times.

sunsets are nice

My fence seems to be getting shorter with all this snow

Charlie conquers the snow mountain!

Diva and Sadie say ride us, we won't be silly, wink wink

I am itching to ride, it has been too long.  Riding is something that flows through my blood, it completes me, but sometimes I get tired or lose a little inspiration.  I believe this happens due to the fact that I ride horses as my job and am spread super thin. So a little forced break puts that spring back in my step, I do a little YouTube therapy and by the time I step my foot back in the stirrup  I am again ready for my dreams of the Olympics and the day to day grind.  I'm not whining, I know I am so incredibly lucky to have my 'job' also be my passion, I'm just human and I get tired.  But enough of that.  This snow brings back memories, memories of the north Idaho palouse.  I learned to ride up there on an incredible endurance Arabian stallion named Pepper.  He taught me more than just how to post a trot, he taught me how to dream, he taught me how to feel.  As a little kid life threw a lot my way and I was pretty shut down, Pepper tore the shutters off, he let me laugh again.  Up on Moscow Mountain we rode through snow deeper than his belly, we wore face masks against the cold, toe warmers and layers upon layers of winter clothing to stay luke warm.  It was like riding through Narnia up there, majestic pines flocked with white powdery snow.  Cabins with smoke curling up from their chimneys, deer, elk, moose, owls, and tiny mice, views of miles upon miles of rolling snow covered fields. Those trails were places for healing, for cathartic release, for growth, those trails were where I learned that life was something to be amazed by and to find a reason to smile no matter how weighed down one feels.

Staying in the snow

The snow came down fast and furious yesterday. I love the way it looks falling out of the sky, snow makes the landscape and the characters in it serene. I grew up with feet of snow not inches as we get here, I miss it. I know I know snow is not conducive to making a living riding horses without an indoor, but I'm choosing to look at the joy it brings my eyes and soul not the sorrowful tatters of my pocketbook. I have been loving watching Charlie the dog play in this mysterious white fluffy stuff. He seems joyful and confused in alternating moments, getting absolutely covered in ice. Lucky for him he has enough hair for 3 dogs and doesn't get cold. Upon seeing a picture of Charles with a nose covered in snow Eugene commented that he (the dog) needed to go to rehab ;) The horses have been fun to watch also. Little Sadie is spending her first winter out of California and is not sure she enjoys the snow tickling her ears and nose. Diva and Suzie both seem set on playing as much as possible to the annoyance of their pasture mates. I should get a video, I swear they kick up as much snow as possible with each step.  Mojito, Paul, and Ricky have trails cut cross cross about their field, it is interesting to see what areas they find intriguing enough to explore.  I know this is going to turn into a muddy disgusting mess at some point so right now I'm going to just enjoy the view and maybe toss a few snowballs!

Suzie and Bridger waiting for breakfast

Charlie says rwar!

Mojito the snow pony

Diva the vacuuming horse

Bridger eating hay, Charlie eating ice (ice baby)

No deeper meaning here just lots of pictures

Mojito and I being goofy

So you may be wondering where Mr. Mojito is, as he is the namesake of this blog.  He is around, doing well, it was a bit of a slow year for my own horses.  I had a very busy spring and summer with my husband's race stable.  It was also a busy year showing and training client horses, and continuing on with my biology degree.  I was lucky enough to get some great lessons from Stephanie Goodman while aboard Gunner (a ranch bred TB/QH trying his hooves at jumping).  I also picked up a lovely new mare, Diva G, she is (as of 5 days ago) a 4 year old TB filly.  Lovely lovely lovely is all I can say about her.  Included in the good times are two three year old projects in the form of a Lipizzaner/trakehner and a Lipizzaner/welsh pony (Bridger and Suzie).

Woodrow Wilson and I getting ready to pony a winner

and galloping

Prepping for a gallop 

Tino at his first dressage show

Gunner looking like an event horse
Photo Credit: Alyssa

Diva G Photo Credit: Alyssa

Diva love

Suzie Q

Bridger

Photo Credit: Alyssa

It was a fun year.  There was a rather large portion of heart break as well, but right now I'm focusing on the good times, the times that improve with the age of the memory, not the times that dim with age.  This was a year full of seized opportunities, and I plan on this next year being a time to hone each of them towards their potential. 

A break from biology

So I may be getting a biology degree, but occasionally (or not so occasionally) I need a break.  So this year I took my second semester of British literature (my dream degree).  My big assignment for the year was writing a piece of satire similar to Johnathon Swift's 'The Ladies Dressing Room' , he is a king of satire and stretches the bounds of what is socially acceptable (A Modest Proposal) please keep in mind he is the epitome of sarcastic.  I played it a little safe, but still received a 100% for the final grade!  Now don't get me wrong while reading below, I love Jane Austen, I've read all her novels many more times than once...but a little self effacing humor never hurt anyone ;)

A Jane Austen Book Club

    They sigh and moan and dream and wish

    Why is my husband not like this?

    They want a man from Pemberly

    Who stares and broods such as he,

5  This Mr. Darcy with his land.

    He does not smile, wink, or laugh

    Until he meets Elizabeth.

    That one true love they dream they think,

    Cannot exist this time this place.

10 These books they must fulfill their wish,

    They must be their gift their tryst.

    Knightly for his Emma must pine,

    Until she learns he bides his time.

    All the women from books throughout,

15 Must from a broken heart feel pain

    And sometimes swoon for love to gain.

    At dances of such social stance

    Politics take the form of plans.

    New women read for an escape,

20 From reality withdraw a pace

    To a time lacks rights for girls.

    For money must a choice be made,

    Marry man or fop no difference.

    We are emancipate girls rejoice!

25 Why then wish for other of ways?

    Because the lads are also gents,

    Their speech and ways magnificent.

    With carriages, horses, land, and lakes,

    They have the forms ladies dreams do take.

30 When sisters leave the sense they have

    They fall for men of scoundrel miens

    And open their chests for hearts to take.

    Dear ladies read about these foibles,

    Turn blind eye towards rakes to date.

35 Men made of the better mettle

    Pray for women not to settle.

    The circumstances never straight

    Due to female’s meddlesome ways.

    Ladies today have not dances

40 Instead they leave it to their chances

    And weak fate is as matchmaker

    How can a lover, man, and mate

    Find his dream if she will not traipse,

    From the grasp of her computer screen

45 From Facebook, chat rooms, and the like?

    To her real men seem to grow pale

    It is because memory does fail.

    If men today spoke such as Darcy

    Laugh she must at such grey blarney.

50 So ladies please give books a break

    And as Miss Dashwood learn to wait,

    But don’t quite leave things up to fate.

    As Lizzy’s friend tries to remind us,

    Men know not of this thing, Romance.

55 In fact their wits hardly make sense,

    They want a woman for theirs to keep

    But when she stays they run away.

    If heartbreak is what you do fear

    Then by all means continue to leer

60 At those dog-eared, worn, loved sheets. 

The art of dreaming with contentedness

I have always been a believer in romantic gestures: knights in shining armor, white horses, every girl is a princess, etc.  The power a daydream to transport to you to another time and place, the power of a look or a smile, butterflies in the stomach, that feeling when two people first hold hands and every thought flies to places unknown, these are the things that I know and believe happen.  Sometimes I get too caught up in the day to day humdrum and worry, I get caught in the view ending at my nose.  Suddenly the belief in romantics wavers, the light behind my eyes dims, the smile playing about the corners of my mouth disappears, and I feel less than.  Less than what I don’t know, but there it is, that terrible habit of comparison that so many of us are guilty of.  Sometimes I am strong enough to pull myself out of it, sometimes God sends some sort of a symbolic (or not) slap in the face, a reminder of how unique and individual your story is, a reminder of how your story may lend someone else strength or courage or inspiration.  These ‘slaps’ have come in the form of a few gentle words, a few harsh words, a simple gift, or a glimpse under the shell of someone else’s life that I thought was perfect.  It is some sort of imperceptible shift in perspective and my fairytale again comes into focus.  I start remembering that I do have a knight in shining armor (or jeans and boots), we do have a white horse (and 12 others), I am treated like his queen (which trumps princess any day).  This last reminder came in the form of a print from a friend. 

Sir Frank Dicksee: La belle dame sans merci

When I saw it I was reminded of a few pictures of my husband and I that mirrored it.  

Thanks Alyssa Lapuh for the pic

So for today I will forget the bills that are late, the bathroom that needs cleaned, the trivial things that drag me down.  Today I will make the time for memories, my horses will get ridden, my lips will again turn upwards, I will pay attention to the fluttering in my stomach when he looks at me and smiles, we will unabashedly hold hands.  Today I will not fall prey to comparison, today I will revel in the uniqueness of our story of my story, I will look with bright eyes towards the future, I will smell the roses.

Lets give it another go

I've been inspired to try this blogging thing again. I don't want to limit myself on content either, whatever inspires or incites for the day. It could be a horse, a recipe, a frustrating experience, anticipation of a future event, who knows! I've been working on a new story so maybe i will post pages from it here and see if anyone likes it. I've been enjoying finding out about my cooking skills for the past year or so and it turns out they are not lacking. In fact friends have been claiming I should open a restaurant someday, this likely won't happen, but its fun to dream. I don't just cook, I also bake...excessively!  It can be so fun to start with a recipe, tweak a few ingredients, and walah! Some new divine concoction is born. So I've included some pictures of food from the last several months.  I wish you could smell what I do when these pictures are taken, that is half the journey of eating and cooking, the sensual caress of various scents wafting past your nose.

Pretzel rolls
Apple Pie
Peach tea infused raisin scones
Cookie fest!
Biscuits 
Smoked salmon and feta penne
Sugar and spice scones
Roasted potato, peppers, and sausage
Chocolate Chip scones

hmmm well

It seems like I have several ideas milling around in my head just waiting to be written about, then come the time I sit here at the computer...poof!  Not a single witty sentence flows forth from my brain.  Call it writers block, call it bloggers block, I think I will call it sporadic foray into the realm of random raves.  and with that my crazy life calls me away...