Friday, March 19, 2010
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Garrison Kellor, A Prairie Home Companion, "The News from Lake Wobegon," Storyteller Extraordinaire, Always a Welcome Companion and a Good Listen
Garrison Keillor, Prairie Home Companion, The News From Lake Wobegon. A good companion anytime. Enjoy! There are 99 videos at at his channel on youtube, and I subscribe to get email notices when there's a new one.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Back to the 70's, Poetry, "Ethereal Dream," and an Arabian Horse
"Ethereal Dream" was one of the poems I wrote in the 70's that was published internationally by the official publication for the U.S. equestrian team, The Chronicle of the Horse.
"Ethereal Dream"
Storybook horse, fantasy dream
Are you ethereal as you seem?
Mane, part of the whispering wind,
Floating about you, hair unpinned.
You couldn't be part of this world,
Ghostly beauty and speed unfurled.
Tomorrow let's gallop into the mist,
Where rosy dawn bears the sun's kiss.
Real it will be, but make-believe it will seem,
As if we're riding from life to our dream."
I wrote this poem about Sahla Ibn Siham, aka "Victor the Wonder Horse" a pumpkin bay polish Arabian colt that I got as a yearling, raised and trained. He did it all, dressage, jumping, working cattle, trails, liberty performances by vocal commands and hand signals for local adult ed groups. Soulmate spirit horse.
He was a character and half. Spirit, intelligence, playing games, mischief maker.
One morning I arrived at the stable, finding Victor loose, having breakfast on alfalfa over by the tack room. Smiled at me. Yes, he had a smile like you wouldn't believe, and his eyes sparkled with mischief. A wise guy Houdini horse.
He had reached over the top of the dutch door on his stall. Undid the latch that was on the outside of it with his teeth.
Eventually we had a whole series of latches on top of latches on his stall's dutch door. He delighted in solving these puzzles.
I was going to get him a rubic's cube but never got around to it.
"Ethereal Dream"
Storybook horse, fantasy dream
Are you ethereal as you seem?
Mane, part of the whispering wind,
Floating about you, hair unpinned.
You couldn't be part of this world,
Ghostly beauty and speed unfurled.
Tomorrow let's gallop into the mist,
Where rosy dawn bears the sun's kiss.
Real it will be, but make-believe it will seem,
As if we're riding from life to our dream."
I wrote this poem about Sahla Ibn Siham, aka "Victor the Wonder Horse" a pumpkin bay polish Arabian colt that I got as a yearling, raised and trained. He did it all, dressage, jumping, working cattle, trails, liberty performances by vocal commands and hand signals for local adult ed groups. Soulmate spirit horse.
He was a character and half. Spirit, intelligence, playing games, mischief maker.
One morning I arrived at the stable, finding Victor loose, having breakfast on alfalfa over by the tack room. Smiled at me. Yes, he had a smile like you wouldn't believe, and his eyes sparkled with mischief. A wise guy Houdini horse.
He had reached over the top of the dutch door on his stall. Undid the latch that was on the outside of it with his teeth.
Eventually we had a whole series of latches on top of latches on his stall's dutch door. He delighted in solving these puzzles.
I was going to get him a rubic's cube but never got around to it.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Flashback to 1971 - Circus Girl - "Lions, Tigers, and Horses,Oh My!"
My horse Commodore and I fit right in at PT Barnum and Bailey Circus at the Cow Palace, San Francisco.
He, a good looking tall black-bay with a long mane, wearing a new red halter and a leadrope on one side as a rein. Me, 19 years old, riding him bareback.
Lions looked out at us from cages, elephants were led by, people were milling around.
It was 1971, my Mom and I moved to Santa Barbara, California. We took a horse trailer up to San Francisco to pick up Commodore. A professional had trailered him across country from Wisconsin.
I hadn't seen him for a year, having been away at college. Commodore had been turned out in a giant pasture in Wisconsin.
The Cow Palace sign announced "PT Barnum and Bailey Circus."
We located the truck driver and Commodore.
I knew right away Commodore hadn't forgotten me.
I slipped the new red halter on him with the leadrope. "Would you give me a leg up please?" I asked the truck driver.
In my mind I said to Commodore, "Comma, I have missed you so much."
The past year melted away.
Commodore was a tall jumping horse, spirited, and I had never ridden him bareback with only a halter and a leadrope on one side.
We instantly connected, tuned in to each other. We took off riding around the circus.
We stopped at the lion cage. All kinds of circus animals were in cages nearby or being led around.
People in the crowd smiled at us, watched, waved, pointed at him. I knew Commodore was trusting me. That was why he wasn't nervous or spooking.
The bystanders probably thought I was a circus girl, one of the bareback riders with her trusty trick horse.
In my mind I said to him, "Oh Comma thank you! You're so good."
Commodore in his red halter, me riding bareback, we watched the PT Barnum and Bailey circus at the Cow Palace.
It was not your everyday experience, but Commodore was not your everyday horse.
He, a good looking tall black-bay with a long mane, wearing a new red halter and a leadrope on one side as a rein. Me, 19 years old, riding him bareback.
Lions looked out at us from cages, elephants were led by, people were milling around.
It was 1971, my Mom and I moved to Santa Barbara, California. We took a horse trailer up to San Francisco to pick up Commodore. A professional had trailered him across country from Wisconsin.
I hadn't seen him for a year, having been away at college. Commodore had been turned out in a giant pasture in Wisconsin.
The Cow Palace sign announced "PT Barnum and Bailey Circus."
We located the truck driver and Commodore.
I knew right away Commodore hadn't forgotten me.
I slipped the new red halter on him with the leadrope. "Would you give me a leg up please?" I asked the truck driver.
In my mind I said to Commodore, "Comma, I have missed you so much."
The past year melted away.
Commodore was a tall jumping horse, spirited, and I had never ridden him bareback with only a halter and a leadrope on one side.
We instantly connected, tuned in to each other. We took off riding around the circus.
We stopped at the lion cage. All kinds of circus animals were in cages nearby or being led around.
People in the crowd smiled at us, watched, waved, pointed at him. I knew Commodore was trusting me. That was why he wasn't nervous or spooking.
The bystanders probably thought I was a circus girl, one of the bareback riders with her trusty trick horse.
In my mind I said to him, "Oh Comma thank you! You're so good."
Commodore in his red halter, me riding bareback, we watched the PT Barnum and Bailey circus at the Cow Palace.
It was not your everyday experience, but Commodore was not your everyday horse.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Native American Storyteller Little Hawk Shares Wisdom
The heartfelt genuine quality of this storytelling by Little Hawk makes it so real, so wonderful. Enjoy.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
1965 - Slice of Life - Scandal and Me
Open the mind's closet for 1965.
I'm 13 years old, and this is the era of "Scandal and Me." Scandal was a black half-Arabian, half-thoroughbred mare. Scandal and I often stayed out on the trails in the snowy winters until after dark. I leaned down low over her neck, shining a flashlight on the paths. It was an adventure.
It's 1965, and I'm in the 8th grade.
A huge horse farm was built a few years ago across the corn field behind our house. For several years I've been working there every day after school and on Saturdays.
In the 6th grade I started at $2 a day and now I am making $3 a day. I give the money to my parents to help with Scandal's expenses.
School's from 8 to 3:15, and by 3:40 I'm heading over to Fairlane Farms. Several years ago my parents put in a corral in the back. My dreams came true when I got a beautiful black half-Arabian, half-thoroughbred mare, Scandal.
It's winter, and after school it's dash out to throw the bridle and saddle on Scandal, ride through the fields to the horse farm.
Put Scandal in an empty stall, start brushing and saddling horses, get the students on their horses, accompany them on any horse that needs exercise or training to the riding ring where the stable owner gives lessons.
After half hour in the ring, then I take them for a 15-20 minute trail ride. Then we get the next group of students out for another lesson.
If it's raining or snowy the lessons are held in the indoors riding ring, well lit.
At 6 pm the second lesson ends, we unsaddle and put the horses away, and start filling water buckets with hoses, cleaning, getting the flakes of hay and filling the grain buckets.
The stable owner has a large family and by working there I am part of the extended family.
Speakers in the barn and indoor ring provide the times' popular music for our riding and chores. We might be trotting around the ring to "I Wanna Hold Your Haaaand."
Now we're done. My friends, who now have horses too, often hang around the barn as it's our second home. We can pretend to be horses.
We gallop around, whinnying and neighing, jumping hay bales, barrels, and low post and rails. Since the first grade we've been drawing horses, watching horse movies, dreaming horses, imagining what it's like to be a horse.
Now it's 6:30 or close to 7, and it's dark outside in the winter. Scandal and I set out across the snowy fields for home, under the stars.
I carry a flashlight in one hand to light her way on the paths, and lean over close to her mane for warmth, escaping the night wind. I know she will take good care of me. We're that close.
There's a flood light on at the hay barn and corral at my house. I take off Scandal's saddle and bridle, and brush her to smooth the hair.
In the winter she has a loooooonnnng shaggy coat, like a horse from the north pole.
I feed her some treats, we talk or communicate in our own way, and I break open a bale of hay.
She has a 3 sided shed but is free to roam outside. It's nice to see her have this freedom to roam instead of living in a stall.
It's important to me for Scandal to be happy. If I were her, I'd want that freedom.
I check the heating coil in the water trough to be sure it's working and she has water not ice. Janey, the retired racehorse our vet gave me, and her colt are there too.
My feet feel a little numb from the cold, although I've got them wrapped in celaphane to keep dampness out, am wearing a pair of wool socks and a pair of knee socks, and a pair of rubber riding boots.
Of course I have on long underwear tops and bottoms, wool riding britches, and a winter parka. It's a wonder a person can get a foot up in the stirrup to get on with all these clothes.
My ears are covered with a knitted ear warmer that goes under the riding helmet. One's hands start to get numb in this cold too but this is all unimportant compared to the rewards of horses.
Soon the horses are happily muching. There's a starry sky, a moon reflecting on the snow, and it's sooooo peaceful. I loiter but finally go back to the house. It's time to have supper, take the Irish Setters out for walks, and do homework.
Can't wait for tomorrow afternoon, when Scandal and I share another adventure.
I'm 13 years old, and this is the era of "Scandal and Me." Scandal was a black half-Arabian, half-thoroughbred mare. Scandal and I often stayed out on the trails in the snowy winters until after dark. I leaned down low over her neck, shining a flashlight on the paths. It was an adventure.
It's 1965, and I'm in the 8th grade.
A huge horse farm was built a few years ago across the corn field behind our house. For several years I've been working there every day after school and on Saturdays.
In the 6th grade I started at $2 a day and now I am making $3 a day. I give the money to my parents to help with Scandal's expenses.
School's from 8 to 3:15, and by 3:40 I'm heading over to Fairlane Farms. Several years ago my parents put in a corral in the back. My dreams came true when I got a beautiful black half-Arabian, half-thoroughbred mare, Scandal.
It's winter, and after school it's dash out to throw the bridle and saddle on Scandal, ride through the fields to the horse farm.
Put Scandal in an empty stall, start brushing and saddling horses, get the students on their horses, accompany them on any horse that needs exercise or training to the riding ring where the stable owner gives lessons.
After half hour in the ring, then I take them for a 15-20 minute trail ride. Then we get the next group of students out for another lesson.
If it's raining or snowy the lessons are held in the indoors riding ring, well lit.
At 6 pm the second lesson ends, we unsaddle and put the horses away, and start filling water buckets with hoses, cleaning, getting the flakes of hay and filling the grain buckets.
The stable owner has a large family and by working there I am part of the extended family.
Speakers in the barn and indoor ring provide the times' popular music for our riding and chores. We might be trotting around the ring to "I Wanna Hold Your Haaaand."
Now we're done. My friends, who now have horses too, often hang around the barn as it's our second home. We can pretend to be horses.
We gallop around, whinnying and neighing, jumping hay bales, barrels, and low post and rails. Since the first grade we've been drawing horses, watching horse movies, dreaming horses, imagining what it's like to be a horse.
Now it's 6:30 or close to 7, and it's dark outside in the winter. Scandal and I set out across the snowy fields for home, under the stars.
I carry a flashlight in one hand to light her way on the paths, and lean over close to her mane for warmth, escaping the night wind. I know she will take good care of me. We're that close.
There's a flood light on at the hay barn and corral at my house. I take off Scandal's saddle and bridle, and brush her to smooth the hair.
In the winter she has a loooooonnnng shaggy coat, like a horse from the north pole.
I feed her some treats, we talk or communicate in our own way, and I break open a bale of hay.
She has a 3 sided shed but is free to roam outside. It's nice to see her have this freedom to roam instead of living in a stall.
It's important to me for Scandal to be happy. If I were her, I'd want that freedom.
I check the heating coil in the water trough to be sure it's working and she has water not ice. Janey, the retired racehorse our vet gave me, and her colt are there too.
My feet feel a little numb from the cold, although I've got them wrapped in celaphane to keep dampness out, am wearing a pair of wool socks and a pair of knee socks, and a pair of rubber riding boots.
Of course I have on long underwear tops and bottoms, wool riding britches, and a winter parka. It's a wonder a person can get a foot up in the stirrup to get on with all these clothes.
My ears are covered with a knitted ear warmer that goes under the riding helmet. One's hands start to get numb in this cold too but this is all unimportant compared to the rewards of horses.
Soon the horses are happily muching. There's a starry sky, a moon reflecting on the snow, and it's sooooo peaceful. I loiter but finally go back to the house. It's time to have supper, take the Irish Setters out for walks, and do homework.
Can't wait for tomorrow afternoon, when Scandal and I share another adventure.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
