From The Paper Diary:

About this time last year I started keeping a regular diary/scrapbook of horse activities. I'm going to post them on here for continuity, and since I had not been writing entries for a particular audience, I think they might offer a certain freshness that comes from recording thoughts as they spilled directly onto the paper. Fresh or not I may edit some things for clarity, but others even I don't know what the heck I was thinking so I may choose to leave words or sentences alone.

March 5, 2003
Jesse James and I are going to Mount Hope. Amish land, Dutchland, Swiss. The land of Sugarcreek if you turn at the intersection, right instead of left. Sugarcreek, where the fate of horses is decided with the "sold to!" cry of the auctioneer. Goodbye to what was once a little friend. Goodbye to the horse that knows no other life but to suffer.
We turn left, for the tack auction. Drive up and down hills with the landscape on both sides like a tonal plaid. The snow is giving into the harrowed fields where summers planting leaves maize colored zig zags like rick-rack on a brown dress. Everywhere you look is the dark horse like a shadow or cutout, alone in a field, the backyard, napping near the shelter of the barn wall that radiates enough warmth that only a horse, or a cat would notice.
Everything immaculate and sensible, and in between, the English invasion capitalizing on the quaint way of life: "Genuine Amish Furniture, Amish Craft, Home of Amish Style." "Looking up and down the hills go the carts. If you are behind, all you see is a black rectangle and four animated hooves in a rhythmic paddling march. As you pass, you may glimpse the white of an eye, "Oh please be careful." it seems to plead. I wonder how many times in a working day that goes on?

A conversation From Cormac Mc Carthy, Cities of the Plain:

Is he supposed to be some sort of specialist in spoiled horses?
Let's go, Billy said. He's liable to walk that son of a bitch all afternoon.
They went toward the house.
Ask Joaquin yonder, Billy said.
Ask me what?
If the cowboy knows horses.
The cowboy says he doesn't know nothin.
I know it.
He claims he just likes it and works hard at it.
What you think, said Billy.
Joaquin shook his head.
Joaquin thinks his method is unorthodox.
So does Mac.
Joaquin didn't answer till they reached the gate. Then he stopped and looked back at the corral.
Finally he said that it didn't make much difference it you liked horses or not if they didn't like you.
He said the best trainers he ever knew, horses couldn't stay away from them. He said horses would follow Billy Sanchez to the outhouse and stand there and wait for him. ~~

March 15th, 2003--isn't this the Ides of March?

Today was about 60-65 F. Heat wave after a cold winter. Brought Wyatt in from the pasture, He didn't care too much to shlep through the mud. After ignoring him after riding Lady for 5 minutes on Thursday--I got too cold--he ate up the attention. He even let me cut off his long winter wiskers, liked getting brushed between, inside, around his little ornately formed ears. His forelock, his forhead. The curry was uncomfortable at first, but oh it felt so good after a while. I poked and prodded delicate places and he put up with it.
Went for a short ride across the street with Cathy and Beau. Both horses dubious about the mushy terrain, about leaving the perimeter of the stables after the long weeks of staying close to home. They wanted to enjoy the change of scenery but they'd rather be home. Especially when things they can't see make sudden noises in the brush. The trails too mud sodden, do do anything but go in a small circle and this requires a change in plans.
Cathy and I fight for control on the way home. No runaway horses finding the ubiquitous ground hog tunnel now a hidden trap in the soggy turf..

March 16, 2003

Rode with Cathy and Omar at Deer Creek State Park. Only 2 other people there. This was my first trail ride with Wyatt away from home. We rode for about 2 hours. Wyatt was tired but after the ride and before we trailered up he looked around and then at me as if to ask? Can't we just stay here? This is nice. I also happened to notice Wyatt attemting to read the trail markers; apparently he is more familiar with the system than I.

March 23, 2003

Met Kellie G. We rode from her house on Clear Creek Rd, Michigan, to the Waterloo trails. I rode her 24 yo mare Jamie--an arabian. she is cute as a button. Kellie rode her mare MSU sordid Affair--green--and the other Kelly, rode dreamer, her youn appy/arab mare while ponying her new horse Keme. The girls were wilder than the horses. It was a wonderful place to ride. Lots of groups on the trails and quite a few fox-trotters. Spent the night with Kellie and her husband Bobby. Talked until 2am, drove home -12:30. Crossed the Ohio border and had to pull into rest stop to take a long nap. The spontaneous trip took a lot out of me. I believe Lynn Palm rode by us and wished us well at Waterloo. I swear it was her!

[this was inserted, don't know when I wrote it]
That week, tried out a job in mich on the border. arabians--104 head. Lots of weanlings & yearlings that hadn't been handled enough. Crazy people, fun in a way, but the prospect of being stuck up there after I moved my horses started to look really bad. I stayed in a camper with no heat. It was just too much to deal with. Not enough money to make it for two weeks. I packed up and drove home.

April 4, 2003
New job at Heartland Stables-a resort type B&B with a string of trail horses as well as boarding for overnights. First day rode Winnie, and old sorrel mare, & rode Blazer, a cute black gelding with a white blaze and a nice jog. Gave an arena ride with Micah on Misty, another ride with mother daughter. Gave a riding lesson, rode Eagle, a sorrel appy gelding with a snow flake pattern blanket.
Today rode drag on two trail rides, the first on who is soon becoming my favorite: Blazer. On him saw vultures in tree while a few swooped down. Saw a little nuthatch. Second ride, gave demonstration on Suzie, a paint mare with blue eyes. (pretty) [dorinne's horse, the owner/operator of the B&B] and rode Cloud, appy mare like Wyatt. On her saw deer up close, vultures again. The scenery is beautiful as everything is fresh and spring green. Not enough foliage to block the sky in the woods or to camoflage wildlife. Need to get/identify local flora, carpets of violets and little white flowers.

Sunday, April, 2003
Lady's orientation to Trail at DS. I took her on foot and we were gone for over an hour. Covered all kinds of terrain, wood's fields, development. Lots of obstacles and junk around construction sites. Ginett, Jessica, Derick on CC, Gunner, Toby. Lady was very good once we got away from stables. She relied on me and I had her attention. She seemed to really enjoy the new experience. The critical times were crossing the road from the drive. It really freaked her out, but at development site, she was fine on the pavement. My legs are killing me

[notes] Blazer can only be ridden by guides. Chief will buck with heavy weight people. What are Lisa's horses names? Jane

Cedarcroft Notes: Sometime in May

East side: Splash, Maggie McGee, Michael, Calypso,Oscar. West side: Uptown Manhattan, Toby,Sunny,Rainbow, Spot (Wheel of Fortune)
Duties: Clean stalls, horses groomed and tacked, exercise training, lunch, feed dogs, pick out stalls again,feed, hay, water, leave 2 bales for evening. Blow aisles, sanitize, put away tools, close back door, lights off west side, chain across aisle, clean feed bins, washer dryer.

Grooming; Curry hairy, dirty spots, brush, towel,clean feet, clean dock, wraps, boots. Take water out of stall if still hot.

I lasted a month at Cedarcroft. Scott says that is typical. Dave did the same thing to the last girl who worked there.
Lady and Wyatt have been moved to Legend Stables after kelly's place,( recommended by dave--should have known it was a bad idea) turned out to be a nightmare for them and me, not to mention the other horses and animals there. One horse I feel really bad for is Shady, a little gray gelding (arab) that I liked. I wish I could afford to buy him and bring him around. I think he'd be a good endurance prospect. He's small but sturdy looking. Heartland is selling to cash buyer who is not going to run the place as an Equestrian B&B. Shame. I wonder what will happen to the trail string and sweet horses like Rooster and Blazer? Tony may stay on to train the people's horses. I still have stuff there I need to pick up. Hope no one has been picking through it.

About Buckeye [from a story I have been planning to finish]
He did not mind being in a pasture of his own kind. It was much better than being bossed around by irritable mares. Here, in the gelding pasture he could make something of himself.

10/08/03

It's about 6:30 pm. I'm driving in Delaware--rt 521/ All summer I've watched the flat fields change color, texture. Soybeans, wheat, corn. It seemed the corn went buff overnight. The brief frost? Driving, it is the second or third day of indian summer. I note the places where the corn's already been harvested. Sheaves strewn like casualties on the overgrown berm. Massive field that borders Legend stables, the big red combine cutting a wide swath and I feel saddend by it. A peculiar saddness that lingers, saddness for the corn. For me it was another lost summer. a summer of hurry and care and disappointments. A summer that doesn't wait for me to catch up with it. The corn went buff overnight and soon the fields will be bare and the crisp October sky overhead will go cold; the aluminum stare of November.

Prairie Spring --I think I got this from a collection of Willa Cather? I will have to check

Evening and the flat land,
Rich and sombre and always silent;
The miles of fresh-plowed soil,
Heavy and black, full of strength and harshness;
The growing wheat, the growig weeds,
The toiling horses, the tired men;
The long empty roads,
Sullen fires of sunset, fading
The eternal, unresponsive sky.
Against all this, Youth, flaming like wild roses,
Singing like the larks over the plowed fields,
Flashing like a star out of the twilight,
Youth with its insuppportable sweetness,
Its fierce necessity,
Its sharp desire,
Singing and singing,
Out of the lips of silence,
Out of the earthy dusk.

10/11/03

In a herd society, Lady is very talented. She is the sentinel. She sees things that go on far beyond the perimiter of the pasture. The other members take her, and other things for granted. They think they've seen it all. The unusual things are what she hones in on. Things that upset the pattern of the landscape. Not in a frightened way though, she hones on things with a definite interest the way of a a naturalist. She studies. She watches; she tries to make out whether it is of any note. She tries to solve a puzzle. What does it mean to "us," is it a threat, is it benign? Does it mind its own business or is it after "us"? As I watch her take in the information, danger or not, she seems completely interestd in the object and what impact it plays in her life and in the life of the herd dynamic. What intrigues me is the rather objective study that comes from being a horse These things are pure to her. They come without the comment of history. There is an innocence about her experience. Today is was a hot air balloon, miles and miles away in the sky. [about the size of an ant] It seemed she looked at it with more wonder and interest. Too far away to pose an immediate a threat, she looked and observed with the same wonder and interest as I look at the stars and objects in the night sky with a sense of awe. The sense that it is just too big for you to comprehend it all. I can imagine her thinking, 'I'm enjoying looking at this'
I admire Lady's power of observation and study. We share the same enthusiasm for what we learn through our powers of observation. Yet, take Lady out of the herd situation, the comfort zone, and she is overcome by her senses--she becomes worked up over little things. Her whole body is charged with the defense mechanisim, where she percieves everything as a threat. She has come a long way in trusting and listening to me, but her instincts still prevail and sometimes take charge. It reminds me of the mechanisim that creates panic attacks in humans--but to a horse, the mechanisim can mean life or death.

Then there's Galano--joy on four feet, joy for just being him.