Poor Griton.

Griton has an abcess in his left front foot that is trying to break. Imagine you got a splinter on the bottom of your heel and it got infected and formed an abcess. Further imagine that your foot is trapped in a tight leather shoe that you can't take off...that might give you an idea of how intense the pain of a hoof abcess is for a horse who has to keep walking around on his foot. This morning when I went out to feed the guys, Griton couldn't put any weight at all on his foot and stood with his head pressed into my chest sighing deeply.


Last May just as I was due to leave for a greyhound event in Utah, Griton injured that foot so badly I had to postpone leaving so I could take him into the clinic. I couldn't afford to miss the event so I had to leave him there. The first set of x-rays taken seemed to show a fractured coffin bone so I spent the weekend wondering if my boy would ever be sound again. Fortunately by the time I got back home, additional x-rays gave a new diagnosis of a deep bruise to the sole, probably from landing hard on a sharp rock. Griton's vet said the bruise was so deep he would probably have an abcess form in that foot.

He seemed to recover quickly though and was fine all last summer and fall. During the winter, I noticed several times he seemed to be off on that foot but thought it was due to so much ice and snow. On Tuesday of this last week he was clearly off and this morning he was in the classic 'It hurts too much to put weight on my heel!' stance. It took ten months but it appears that abcess is finally showing up.

Since a horse's horny hoof is a contained capsule, there is no easy place for an infection to escape. What we do is soak the foot in a warm epsom salts and water solution. This draws the abcess and softens the foot to help the abcess break through. More often than not, the abcess will break at the coronary band (like your cuticle) or at the soft bulbs of the heel. I managed to get two soaks in this afternoon and Griton was an excellent patient, standing quietly while I bribed him with scratches and treats. With any luck at all, this abcess will break in the next day or two and he will be suddenly and dramatically better.

For Holly - Besol's other face.

'My food! Mine!!!'

What happened to spring?

Instead of the beautiful sunrises that usually greet me, this is the sky that I have gotten up to for the last three days. Not easy to deal with in a state where the sun shines three hundred and fifty some odd days a year. And it's cold out, not as cold as when the yurt looked like this...


but somehow it feels colder because my body got used to sunshine and warm air. Even though I know the last official freeze date is sometime in May, I still get stubborn about it when we get these early spring warm spells. For several weeks now the doors have been open during the day, letting in light and fresh air; and letting the dogs have freedom to run whenever they want. After several days of being cooped up, when they came back in from potty time this morning they turned the thirty foot diameter yurt into a race track. Even antique Vannie joined in. We're talking three large dogs in one small space and I admit it, I resorted to yelling at them. After all, I hadn't even had my first sip of coffee yet.


I get this almost superstitious mind set that if I go back to winter ways, winter will come back with a vengeance. And I shouldn't be complaining, they are having blizzards just north of us and it is pretty common for us to get late snowstorms in April. I haven't even needed the wood stove for several weeks and have only put the back up kerosene heater on when I went to bed to prevent morning chill in the house. After waking up to a rather frigid space the last three mornings, I broke down and got the wood stove going this morning. I have a lot of work to do out in the shop but it's really freezing out there. So here I am, stalling, instead of carrying wood to the shop to get another fire going. Maybe I'll get some more paperwork done first.

Update: okay, so now it's snowing. I've got hot fires going both here in the yurt and out in the shop. I just got a phone order for a piece that needs to be express mailed so, heck, guess I have to put off shop work for a few more hours. At least this puts the fire danger back down to zero.

Approaching birthday contemplations.


In a little over a week I will be celebrating my 54th birthday. What an amusing sound that has to me! Two years ago I realized, with a cold water in the face kind of shock, that I was the same age as my mother was when she died from breast cancer. I remembered so clearly how I consoled the grief of my nineteen year old self by thinking, with all of the arrogance that comes with being a teenager, 'Well, she lived a long life.' Okay I can already sense the smiles forming on 50 something or greater faces all over the country, it's the same smile that is on my face even as I write this. Nineteen can never possibly know how much better it gets, and keeps getting.


I have never been one to agonize over approaching milestones of age. Each decade for me has been a celebration of survival. When my older brother turned 50, I asked him how he felt about his life and he replied that he felt he had missed a lot of it, but that he was glad he had managed to be a good husband and parent. That's the way it is with survivors of childhood abuse...we miss a lot just doing the survivor part.


Since that shocking realization at 52, I find myself becoming introspective as each birthday approaches. Realizing that my mother died with so much of her life still ahead of her, I now try to live consciously and in gratitude for what I have achieved. Yesterday, as I was driving to and from Santa Fe, I asked myself what I was proudest of in my life. There are a lot of things actually...against the odds I had the courage to become an artist. I would have withered in any other career. I have taught others some of the love, respect and understanding that I have with horses. Recently, I realized that the anger and hate that you hear in my voice when I talk about my father is just habit now, and not something I actually feel towards someone who died almost thirty years ago. I have conquered depression and I have tried to be a good friend.


But what I am most proud of is my marriage. Marriage is hard work for anyone; but especially hard for two people who had no model of healthy relationship to work from. We each carry the scars and burdens of dysfunction and abuse. Somehow through all of our history and wounds, we recognized each other and managed to hold onto a love we both intuitively knew could heal. It isn't perfect, but we are committed. We fall down. We get back up. And we keep moving forward. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and tell my nineteen year old self just how good it is going to get when she passes 52.

The Wizard's Hat Award!

I just received my very first blog award and it's the best kind of award of all...given by a fellow artist whose photography skills I aspire to, and whose ability to tell a story never fails to completely captivate me. Please pay a visit to the Wizened Wizard's home!

Wind and horseplay.

Our first spring wind storm started yesterday and is continuing through today. We may have snow through Friday at the higher altitudes (that would be us), and if Mike makes it home next week for my birthday, he'll have a last chance at a ski day. But back to the point, I was out playing with the macro lens when all that wind in their manes got the horses in a rowdy mood. It was an easy switch back to the telephoto and the 'horsie spy cam' was back in business. Corazon and Llego sparred with each other for at least a half hour.

Besol seemed to be focused on rubbing off some of that long winter hair of his.

And me? I'll be braving 50mph wind gusts on the road to Santa Fe for work on my back. I still haven't recovered from the trip to Dallas with its fourteen hour days on concrete and a hotel bed that was harder than the granite above us. The last week of sitting at the computer entering tax data didn't help either. I was thinking maybe I should include a translation of each of our horses names when I post about them so here goes...

Corazon de la Tierra - Heart of the Earth

Griton - One Who Shouts

Llego - He Arrived

Valeroso - Courageous

Besol - Sun Kissed

Fun with macros.

Imagine my chagrin when, after complaining to Mike I needed a macro lens, I discovered one of the lenses he got me has a macro setting! So since I completed one set of income taxes, I went out and played with the macro setting. They aren't perfect yet, I'm still figuring out the focus but here are some of the results...

New Mexico back roads.

You would think driving around and taking photos of old adobes melting back into the soil would be a pretty safe activity. That's what you would think...actually the back roads of New Mexico were once wagon trails that wound around old property boundaries. Most of these roads are barely two vehicles wide and graced by a continuous series of blind curves. Since land owners were reluctant to give up a foot more ground than necessary, the fences hug close to the pavement (paved if you're lucky) with no shoulder to pull off on. The fact that no one drives slowly on these roads doesn't help either.


When I am driving to a location I've noticed previously, I watch my rear view mirror, hoping to spot any drivers that might be behind me as they also round curves. If I haven't spotted anyone for several miles, I try to pick a spot to stop the truck where anyone coming around the next blind corner from either direction will have a chance to see me before they actually run into me. With spot picked, I pull over, hop out of the truck and as quickly as I can, take photos. Then it's leap back into the truck and get on down the road as fast as I can.


But it's all worth it. I love these old ruins and if it were possible to actually park the truck safely somewhere, I'd risk getting shot as a trespasser to wander through them and think about the stories they might tell. The area that is now known as New Mexico has been continuously occupied since 25,000 BC. In more recent times, the first Spanish capital of San Juan de los Caballeros was established in 1598 and the Villa de Albuquerque was founded in 1706. There is history here, rich history of ancient native peoples such as the Anasazi and later the Pueblo Indians, as well as other tribes who have occupied and cherished this land.


Later came the Spanish and then the Anglo settlers. As with much of the settlement of this continent, a lot of the history here was bloody and unbelievably cruel and there are angers against profound injustices that have been carried for generations. As I watch these silent homes fading slowly into the ground, I hope the families that lived in them had lives of joy and that their abandonment had more to do with growth than loss.

The breakfast scouts.


'Aren't you through with your coffee yet?!? We're sta-r-r-r-r-ving!'

I recently read a review about a horse trainer/clinician who shall remain nameless. To say the least, many of this man's ideas of horses made me so angry that all of my long hair stood on end. Quite a sight if you can imagine it. There were so many things I disagreed with, and that my marine biologist husband actually laughed at the animal behavior sampling method, but here is an example of what this man is teaching:

Horses cognitive abilities are far different from humans -they have no ability to 'reason' things out or to think into the future or past, they can't reconstruct scenarios in their mind, and so on...Horses live totally in the present.

Clearly, this man has never actually lived daily and on a 'part of the herd' basis with horses or observed anything but a tiny portion of the horse population. I suppose our non-reasoning, live only in the moment, horses just happen by accident to show up on the slope above the yurt each morning and afternoon about an hour before feeding time; and they just happen to stare at the door I will soon be coming out of, a door they have never been physically close to, and nicker a hungry greeting just for the hell of it.

First there was snow...


and then...


there was sun.


Last night was a rough one for southeastern New Mexico. Multiple tornados touched down and did a large amount of damage. So far no casualties but at least five people are critically injured. The same storm cell moved on to the area in Texas where Mike is working. He said they had a couple of exciting hours with high winds and lightning. As you can imagine, the crews are required to leave those big metal contraptions when there is lightning in the area. And what will my day look like? Income taxes. I am determined to get them done this weekend so I can move onto other things with a clear mind.

UPDATE: Woo! Hoo! Let's play!

I'm faster than anybody!

It turned out to be a glorious day and I had to take a break from stacks of receipts and breathe some outdoor air. Of course the pups were happy to indulge me and the horses had obviously been enjoying a bit of a roll in the wet sand.

It always amazes me to see things like mosses and ferns thriving here in the desert. These adaptive plants spring into life anytime moisture is available and sink back into dormancy each time the ground dries out again.

Rain, hail, lightning and thunder.


I admit I had a cranky morning. I was awakened at 5:30 by rain hitting the roof of the yurt just above my head. It wasn't the rain that made me cranky, rain is always welcome here and usually sounds rather nice on the roof. It was being wide awake at 5:30. An hour earlier and I could have gone back to sleep and woke up again at my usual time. At 5:30 the timing is just all wrong, going back to sleep would have meant a very groggy morning so I got up and made coffee.


The rain turned into hail with the noise drowning out the morning news programs. Hail is a frequent visitor here at any time of year and while I could still hear what the weather guy was saying, he reported golf ball sized hail in southeastern New Mexico. I hurried out into the icy air wearing my bathrobe to hang drapes over the roses I had just uncovered this week and came back in just as fast to hover over the wood stove. The new rose buds are still too fragile to be pelted with hail.


The rest of my morning was spent either working on income taxes or out in the shop getting orders finished and ready to ship. Neither activity improved my state of mind in the least. And then I finally took the time to stop and smell the air...80% humidity is a rather miraculous thing here, especially this time of year. Suddenly I was smelling delicious scents I had missed all winter, wet soil, hay, pine trees, horses steamy from running in the chill air, wet dogs...well, they didn't smell all that good.


Then I took packages into town to mail and actually remembered the camera. I even wound up driving almost down to Holman to take more photos and the day was saved. I am still buried in income taxes but I have the whole weekend free from the shop to work on them. The rain is supposed to continue through tomorrow so I won't be tempted to go out and play with horses or plant things, I'll be resigned to chaining myself to the desk and entering tax data.

Signs of spring.


The beautiful golds and rusts of winter will be fading soon and I've promised myself to make a trip out with the camera in the next few days to take a few last photos before the greens of spring take over. I need to get in the habit of bringing my camera...as I went into town this afternoon to mail packages I had to stop the truck for a few minutes to watch storm clouds breaking over the mountains in the direction of Taos. I won't have many more opportunities to photograph those peaks, still dramatically covered with snow and with thunderheads rolling over their tops. Closer to home, the clouds have been building over our own peaks and we have already received a few chilling showers.


I had hoped to keep the deck garden sheltered for another month but the roses had ideas of their own. They are budding strongly so I opened them to the sun by stripping away the straw mulch that has protected them all winter and fed them to support so much new growth. I'll keep the wind shields up until I'm sure they are strong. It looks as though I only lost one rose and it was a weak one that barely made it through last summer. This was the first year I left the lavender to winter outdoors and while it looks rough, there is strong green stock at the bases. The more fragile herbs will remain indoors until the end of April.


The orchard trees we inherited with the land are also in heavy bud and once again, I am wishing I had a good book that would show me how to prune trees that have never been pruned. When we moved here, we weren't even sure these trees would survive due to lack of care and several years of drought. Now that they have had three years of being fed by runoff water traveling through huge deposits of horse manure, they seem to be thriving. Thanks to the horses, in another ten years we might actually have dirt here.




Just before we went to Dallas, our dinner was interrupted by loud and close cries from coyotes. My immediate thought was that we had a mating pair nearby. Sure enough, as we stood watching quietly at the back door, first one and then the second coyote came across the ridge above us on one of the horse trails. I have suspected there was a den above and to the south of us and now I am fairly certain it is there. These are magnificently healthy animals and I have no doubt our summer nights will be filled with their songs as their cubs leave the den and learn to hunt, reducing our rodent population in the process.

How cool is this?

For Austin - last year's sunflowers

After we came back from Dallas I ordered three books on the Nikon D80 camera, one not yet published and due out this summer, and one book on Photoshop Elements 5. 'The Photoshop Elements 5 Book for Digital Photographers' by Scott Kelby, arrived first and all I could say, over and over, was Wow! You have to understand I professionally grew up in the budding personal computer industry starting in Austin in the early 80s. As a graphic designer, I was a beta tester for version 1.0 of many software applications that have since become industry standards. Photoshop was one of those. When I walked away from life as a graphic designer in 1993, I knew I would be left behind within six months. Boy was I right on that one!


Well, I am thrilled with this book and Scott Kelby's light and amusing writing style. I'm even more thrilled to find out some of the things I will be able to do with this program. I intend to go through the book chapter by chapter with my own photos until I feel I have begun to master the techniques.


The 'cool' reference up there refers to my discovering I can make high quality calendars through Adobe using my photos! Now how could I pass that up? So I am going to begin collecting photos to include in a 'Life at Star's Rest' calendar for 2008. So I say again, how cool is that!

Janet - this one's for you!

I was very, very good today...


...and I gave myself a reward! First I filled the water holding tank (three trips with the filled bed tank). Then while each of the bed tank loads were being pumped into the holding tank, I got our income tax data entered up to October of last year. And, I got a batch of waxes prepped for our next casting run. And, I got the orders ready to mail that were put on hold last Friday due to the fire.


My reward? I got to work with my sweet gray boy, Griton. Last week we had an acupuncturist vet come up who worked on both Griton and Besol. I wanted to be sure Griton's stifles (like our knees) had healed enough from the injury he had over a year ago that he could go back to work. Holly gave him a qualified bill of health in that I must be careful and watch for soreness. Apparently the fact that our round pen is currently sitting on a slope is a good thing, since it will create a good workout for those muscles that support and stabilize his stifles. This summer the round pen will be moved to its permanent, tree shaded and level location.


So here is my boy, the equine love of my life, all dressed up with so many places yet to go! (Yes, he's sticking his tongue out at the camera.)


"Come on...don't just stand there with the camera, let's go do something!"


My handsome guy who was once so afraid of a saddle he would be twenty feet away from you in a heartbeat if he thought you might put one on him. It's going to be a good, good summer.



The evacuation on Friday, overnight in a small pen, and return on Saturday, definitely cemented at least one friendship.

Hooves on the Mountain.

Yurts aren't insulated for sound. You would be wise to not expect to have a private conversation in one, and you can also hear every sound generated beyond the walls. Not so much fun in a hailstorm, or when a feral cat is in heat and trying to seduce your neutered male. For reasons known only to them, our horses like to take nocturnal wanders up the mountain. I hadn't realized how much the sound of their hooves striking on granite had become part of my nighttime sleep pattern. I kept waking up last night, listening. It took me a while to realize I wasn't listening to a sound, but to the absence of one. I often feel I have a stream of connection with each horse so that I know where they are and if all is well. I remember waking Mike up at around two in the morning once and telling him his horse was colicking and sure enough, he was.

So I am at a bit of a loss this morning with the absence of our boys. No breakfast scouts, Valeroso and Besol, standing above the yurt wondering when I'll get through with my coffee and come out to feed them. No wild gallops through the bottom trees for me to stand on the deck and watch. Later this morning my neighbor and another friend will help me lead the boys home and all will be back to normal.


This event has shown me that yes, I can get our horses to safety and it also has shown me what is lacking in my plan. I never got around to buying that portable file box for our essential papers. As planned, I gathered up the finished and unfinished jewelry inventory and tossed it in a bag (I'm sure I will feel irritated later today when I have to sort it all back out). I stood looking around the shop and knew insurance would cover all of our tools and equipment...but what about the rubber molds? Their cost, which is all insurance would cover, ranges from $25 to $80; but they represent the last seven years of work and how do you calculate the design time and time to create each master that would have to be done all over again? So a way to quickly pack up and move all of these molds must be included in the plan.


My computer is fully backed up again on this fantastic little 6 GB Seagate drive Mike got me. It's no bigger than a compact. Back up your important files, toss it in your purse and go. I'll just need to remember to back up more often. And all of the photos I've been taking with the new camera live on another small, portable drive Mike gave me along with the camera. I think I need to take a walk around with more experienced eyes to see what else I might have missed. As paranoid as it may sound, this time of year I would probably be wise to have a small suitcase packed with essentials too.


Update: the boys are back home and after a quick gallop and some happy rolling, they have settled back into their peaceful life on the mountain. I wish I could say Corazon was as good about being haltered today as yesterday; but that wasn't the case. I think he was a bit unsettled about being back in the old pen where he lived while we were gentling him. Eventually he did allow me to put his halter on and the rest was an easy hike home, if you don't count the humans who were huffing and puffing over the climb.

Fire.

I really hoped with all the snow we got this winter we would be spared a serious fire season. Unfortunately as I stepped out of the shop this morning, I found myself surrounded by heavy smoke and ash. I got in the truck and found the fire less than a mile away, on our mountain ridge to the south of us with the wind carrying it our way. I've evacuated from fires in California and I know if you hesitate, you might wind up dead. I have a bit of fire related PTSD from that experience so this is a huge thing for me, especially with Mike back in Texas again.


I got in the truck and drove down to see what the conditions were...smoke can be deceptive and in these folded mountain forms it is hard to tell just where or how far away it is. The highway was blocked and the officers told me the fire was a hot one and moving fast. They said our side of the mountain would be evacuated if they were unable to get it under control quickly.

That was all the warning I needed so I recruited a neighbor to help me move the horses down the mountain. I have been planning for this since last year's intense fires and I am so proud of our boys. Even fearful Corazon who hasn't had a halter on in over a year (I do everything with him at liberty), understood this was serious and stood for me to halter him. We led them down in pairs, letting Valeroso trail along loose. Everyone did great even with the helicopters and planes going over and we made it safely down the mountain, across the highway and into my neighbor's place. That was when Valeroso saw his first llamas, spun and galloped all the way back up the mountain! Corazon's level of trust in me just really touches my heart...his worst fears, helicopters and planes, and he followed me down like a lamb.

Fortunately Valeroso went straight home and I was able to pen him and halter him even though he is truly still a wild horse. He also led back down calmly and was so glad to see his band that he got over the llamas completely.

It looks like they have the fire under control now and the horses will just be having an overnight at the neighbors. If you look closely in this photos, you can see gray Griton and red Besol in the pen where the band is spending the night. In an odd way, this has all been reassuring. I have spent a good bit of time planning how I would evacuate the animals if I needed to and everything went without a hitch. It took less than an hour to have all five horses caught and down the mountain to a safe place where they could either remain or be moved further if need be. This will do a lot for making this year less stressful for me and it's a reminder to everyone, don't put off planning how you will get yourselves and your animals to safety if you need to.

This fire was clearly started by the careless toss of a cigarette. The majority of people I know who are smokers are extremely careful with their cigarettes. For those who aren't, please think about the lives you are affecting by not putting your cigarette out in an ashtray. The sun is setting with the odd amber light that happens with a smoke filled sky. When I left the fire site, there were four large tankers and a number of smaller trucks parked for the night to keep us safe from flare ups.

Home.


I find myself wondering if the love of home isn't more poignant and deeply felt when you have chosen the place to grow roots rather than inherited it? This is the home of our choice and the one of our hearts, not one given to us or imposed on us. My love for this place is deep and often filled with awe. I remembered to bring the camera with me yesterday when I drove into Mora to mail packages. These are the scenes I see almost everyday...how could one not be inspired?

"I am the Turquoise Woman's son

On top of Belted Mountain

Beautiful horses - slim like a weasel!

My horse has a foot like striped agate;

His fetlock is like a fine eagle plume;

His legs are like quick lightning.

My horse's body is like an eagle-plumed arrow;

My horse has a tail like a trailing black cloud.

I put flexible goods on my horse's back;

The Little Holy Wind blows through his hair.

His mane is made of short rainbows.

My horses's ears are made of round corn.

My horse's eyes are made of big stars.

My horse's head is made of mixed waters

(From the holy waters - he never knows thirst)

My horse's teeth are made of white shell.

The long rainbow is in his mouth for a bridle,

And with it I guide him.

When my horse neighs, different colored horses follow."

THE WAR GOD'S HORSE SONG

Translated from the Navajo by Dane and Mary Roberts Coolidge

Are you noticing a theme here? Well I can explain it. For the last ten years I have made my living as a jewelry designer. I explained the process, even included photos, in a January 2006 entry. It is grueling, exhausting work that has taken an extreme toll on my body and spirit. My wrists ache from repetitive motion disease. My finger joints are swollen and enlarged. After one intense work period I even developed an abscess at one thumb joint from the constant pressure. I have a muscle adhesion under my right shoulder blade that often feels as though someone has a knife in my back, twisting it back and forth as I work. And my back...well I won't even go into that. At night I often can't sleep because my hands and back hurt so much.


For almost all of my relationship with Mike, that has been our life. Preparing inventory for an event, going to the event, restocking from the event. And never quite enough money even though we have been very successful as Black Horse Design. We started each year with preparing inventory for North Texas Irish Festival. That led to the New Mexico Horse Fair and a greyhound event in Utah in the spring; which was followed by two summer art shows in Colorado each for June, July and August. September brought us our local Mill Fest and the Greyhound Companions of New Mexico fund raiser...all while we were frantically trying to build enough inventory to take to Delaware in October for our largest event of the year. When we got home, there was the desperate race to restock for Christmas Internet sales. And in January it started all over again.


And since you wonder, no, the travel is not fun. It's long days of driving or sitting on planes. Motel beds that are impossible for my once broken back and ruptured disc to get rest on. Standing long hours, usually on concrete, at events hoping to sell enough to actually make a profit. And always trying to be friendly and helpful and not show how exhausted we actually are. The one real pleasure and indulgence we have had has been going to very, very good restaurants in each town and city we vend in.


So why have we done it you wonder? Well, I'm an artist (one of my very favorite posts by the way)...it's what I've always done and been and I just can't escape being me. Dear Mike has sacrificed many of his own desires to help support us in this venture and I probably don't tell him nearly enough what it has meant to me. I've been self employed most of my adult life, spending over twenty-five years as a freelance graphic artist prior to becoming a jewelry designer. It's just what I do and all of those years have been spent either generating clients, or frantically trying to meet deadlines. Meeting the deadlines and then back to setting up the next project. It's been a life of stress in one form or another, all to support my need to create.


Well. With Mike back at work in a field he excels at, generating income that rather astounds me, everything is changing. I pushed myself through preparing for and going to Irish Fest with the promise I could rest afterward...a looooong rest! You see, thanks to Mike, Irish Fest was the only event we will be going to until fall. In September I will attend Greyhound Companions of New Mexico's fund raiser because they are our home greyhound adoption group, where both Ellie and Duffy came from. And it's very hard to pass up the money we make in just a few days of sales at the Delaware event in October. But that's it, no more travel.


I'm still adjusting to this idea. Never in my life have I been in a relationship with someone who asked me to work less; but Mike did. He came home and he asked me to do less so that I would not be exhausted, and in pain, and so we could actually enjoy life here when he is home. Man do I love that guy. I know you'll find this hard to believe but it actually took me several months to try this on and see if I could do it. I find that I can. So here I am, the week after traveling to Dallas, breathing deep and slowly letting the tension and the stress of the last thirty years slide off of me because...I don't have to start preparing for the next event. I don't have to travel all summer. I can slow down and enjoy life. I can work on our home. I can play with our horses. I find I am falling in love with our horses and this place and the guy I married all over again. So expect to be seeing and reading about them all as I make this newest and most welcome transition in the journey that has been my life.

Ah the world is sweet and the world is wide

He's there where the light and the darkness divide

And the steam's comin' off him he's huge and he's shy

And he steps on the moon when he paws at the sky

And he comes to her hand but he's not really tame

He longs to be lost she longs for the same

And he'll bolt and he'll plunge through the first open pass

To roll and to feed in the sweet mountain grass

Or he'll make a break for the high plateau

Where there's nothing above and nothing below

It's time for their burden the whip and the spur

Will she ride with him or will he ride with her

So she binds herself to her galloping steed

And he binds himself to the woman in need

And there is no space just left and right

And there is no time but there is day and night

Then she leans on his neck and whispers low

Whither thou goest I will go

And they turn as one and they head for the plain

No need for the whip oh no need for the rein

Ballad of a Runaway Horse - Leonard Cohen

Star's Black Lacquer April 13, 1987 - October 22, 2003

The first time I heard this song as sung by Emmie Lou Harris on her 'Cowgirl's Prayer' album, it seemed to sum up everything I felt about my black horse, Star, who died in 2003. I thought my relationship with him was unique, it certainly was up to that point in my life, even after knowing and owning many different horses. Now I realize that the greatest gift he gave me in the sixteen years we lived together, is knowing I can have the same relationship of mutual trust, respect and love with all horses. And so here are our boys, not runaways but wild and wonderful beings who choose to give us their hearts. Thank you Star, from all of us.

I've got altitude.


I had experienced altitude sickness at an event in Keystone, Colorado (elevation 9,300') before we moved here. There's nothing like it...I felt like I had zero blood pressure; bending over to pick something up was guaranteed to make me fall down; I had extreme nausea; and during the night I would wake up in an oxygen deprived panic. By the time we left three days later, I was pretty much adjusted and feeling normal other than any physical effort left me breathless and nights were still difficult.


I knew what I would be up against when we moved here from Austin and I felt prepared for a long adjustment period. I had been taking yoga and doing a daily practice for several years which I knew would help. Yogic breathing can really help you get through the time your body needs to learn how to live on less oxygen. In yoga you breathe from your diaphragm, completely filling your lungs from the bottom up and giving yourself access to more oxygen. I found that even in my sleep the habit of breathing deeply continued and I didn't wake up with those oxygen starved panic attacks.


Still, the first year we were here I was constantly out of breath and my balance was not overly good. It seemed I fell down at least once a day...mostly because the horses weren't living here yet to clear the ground and there always seemed to be a rock or pine cone hiding under the thick pine thatch, just waiting to roll under my foot. I felt like an elementary school kid again, always with a skinned knee, a scraped elbow, bruised hands from catching myself and occasionally a head wound from falling into a pine tree. Mike, the NOLS graduate, wilderness guide, kayak guide, scuba guide, experienced skier and so on, must have thought he had married the most physically inept woman on the planet. It was an embarrassing period for me because, well shoot, I had been a distance runner, rode cross country endurance and trained horses. I had been this lean, athletic machine! Well...I got over it. I mean, I had my fiftieth birthday here and truthfully, I'm not doing half bad for fifty plus. I can say that with conviction now that I have made it through the great snows of '06 unscathed and undaunted.


These days I relish the altitude with it's intensely clear air, night skies to fall into, and the fact that not everyone can adapt to living here which gives us even greater solitude. I still get out of breath when I climb the mountain but I don't have to stop to recover. My breathing just gets deeper and I tell myself what a good aerobic workout I'm giving my heart. And the bonus...ahhh the bonus...when we go down to the lowlands to do an event, especially sea level Delaware in October, I feel like Super Woman. There's so much air down there! My body is overwhelmed with the amount of oxygen it takes in and I'm able to power through the long days and nights of vending and immersing myself in masses of people. And oh how good it feels to be back home again with thin, crystal air that doesn't weigh you down with heavy humidity, and the solitude. How we love our quiet space here with just the mountain and its natural residents, the horses, hounds and cats, and of course each other for company.

Home again, home again, and everything in between.

As Mike was packing the rented minivan, Van Van Vannie made sure she had her spot claimed.


Dogs are my copilots.


Leaving New Mexico...mostly I wanted to see if I could take a photo through the windshield.


Duffy helping Mike unload the display tables from the luggage rack...so much to see!


All set up and waiting for customers.


Duffy figured out how to work the crowd right away...a sad nose resting on the table and mournful eyes got him many pets. Vannie has her own special way of getting attention.


Sammye Conway and some of her Italian Greyhound rescues. Sammye's rescue, Texas Italian Greyhound Rescue, is in need of forever homes and foster homes for thirteen iggies looking for love.


Would you believe he's just a puppy?!?!?


Faith and begorra! Hide the Lucky Charms!


'All the bones and all the toys are mine.'


'That's what he thinks.'



'But I AM keeping an eye on the inventory and money!'

Heading back into New Mexico...hooray for home!

'Oh...I love my couch!'

We were really touched by all of our long time friends and customers telling us they read this blog...to all of you, thanks for giving us another successful and fun year at Irish Fest! It is always a joy to see and visit with you again.