Getting Back to My (Blonde) Roots

There is a new strawberry blonde here at BBA!

After a few weeks of heavy thinking, I made the difficult decision that Harlan and I aren't the right match for each other.

When I first bought Harlan, I was confident and he was confident. We hit some snags but it was still a fun challenge...most of the falls I took could be explained by rider error or saddle dysfunction. Then came the last big fall, the one where I bruised my tailbone pretty badly. Something broke in our partnership. We lost trust in each other and I lost all confidence. Harlan is a horse that NEEDS a confident rider, someone to tell him that everything is okay when he's with them.

I know with time and miles we could probably get back to having fun together, but right now riding causes both of us wicked anxiety. Instead of a stress reliever it is a major stress causer. Harlan tenses up as soon as I stand on the mounting block and I have to fight to relax my body when riding. I had to do the tough job of looking at how many spoons I have available and how to apportion them between school, work, MMSAR responsibilities, correcting dog misbehavior, and riding.

I made pros and cons lists, I talked it over with trusted friends, and it ultimately seemed like selling Harlan and finding a more suitable horse was the best decision.

I had started casually looking at horses for sale, thinking I would get a head start for when I sell Harlan. I knew that what I was looking for, a thousand other people were looking for: big-boned, level-headed, calm, and with just a little bit of get up and go, all for a fairly small budget.

I trawled the sales websites and sent info on many, many horses to my friends; most were ruled out due to conformation issues, distance, price, training deficits, etc etc. One horse I came across and couldn't get out of my mind was a big Clydesdale mare...despite the fact that she was out of my price range and that I would probably have to buy a new trailer and tack to fit her big butt, I obsessed.

And then a new horse came on my radar. I had sent a message to one of the local sales barns, asking them to keep an eye out for something that might fit my needs. They promptly messaged back Sunday night saying they were out on a buying trip and had just bought something that I might be interested in. They sent me a picture of a 10-11 year old, 15.3 hh draft cross gelding and I was like "Clydesdale who?"

They also posted him to their Facebook page and his picture immediately got almost 100 likes and over a dozen comments. I made arrangements to go meet him the next day (yesterday) in the afternoon, and my friend Melissa graciously took time off of work to come with me.

The guy pulled "Ed" out and my first thought was Oh, he's smaller than I thought. His withers may measure at 15.3 but his back is more like 15.1 or 15.2. But he's stocky!

We poked at him for a while and then the guy saddled him up and rode him in front of us. Melissa rode him a little around the indoor and then I got on. I had the now-usual feeling of anxiety when I first sat on him, the fear of him exploding and me taking a dive again. But I forced myself to breathe out and relax, and I found that I didn't feel any nervous energy radiating beneath me, like I do with Harlan. This boy was awaiting my orders, not worrying about what was going on around him.

I took a few laps and then the guy opened the electric garage door that led to the parking lot. The boy (I refuse to call him Ed, that is a terrible name and was given to him by the sales barn) watched and listened to the whirring door and started to get a little nervous. I put a hand on his neck and he immediately stilled. My crusty old withered heart gave a thump at the thought that he trusted me.

We walked out past some machinery and blowing smoke from the woodstove, and toodled around the parking lot. He walked fast, not in a holy crap holy crap we're gonna DIEEEEEE way, more in a hey world, whatchu got going on? way.

I dismounted and we took him back into the barn and put him in the crossties. Melissa and I then proceeded to torture him with various objects, like a big push broom and some Kleenex. We jumped around and made weird noises to gauge his reaction...which was in total a look that said Really? You guys are weird.

His attitude the whole time was completely willing and calm, and he was very attentive and engaged. This horse had been put on a trailer in Ohio with 16 other horses and brought to Maine, where the very next day people came and ogled him. Pretty impressive behavior for going through that.

As a sign from the universe (at least that's how I'm interpreting it to justify my fairly impulsive buy), the woman who owns the barn where Harlan is currently boarded showed up half an hour after us. Completely a coincidence, she was buying a trailer from the sales barn and happened to come on the same day at the same time as me. She generously offered to trailer the horse home if I bought him.

I consulted with Melissa and my very patient mom, did some haggling on the price (PS, I am terrible at haggling), and I bought him. After I had signed the papers I found out that a woman who had arrived maybe 45 minutes after me had come to try him out. Scooped him up just in time!

He is probably an ex-Amish horse. Not gaited, I will have to get used to posting the trot again!

Because I am ridiculous, I had stared at his picture the night before and came up with a tentative name: Bisbee. He looks like a rugged old west gold mining horse to me, and Bisbee is an old mining town out west. Per my mom's request, his middle name is Ann. (Those who have seen me reprimand my animals know that most of them have the middle name Louise no matter their gender, so this is not a far-fetched request. Plus, Bisbee Ann has a nice ring to it.)

Now that Bisbee was officially mine I was faced with the reality that shit, he's coming home TODAY. Harlan is still at the boarding barn but because Bisbee's history is unknown and he was with a bunch of other sales horses it is best to keep him away from other horses for a quarantine period.

Which meant that I had to scramble and get my barn ready again for horses, including buying hay and grain.

It's going to be a challenge doing horse chores until the snow melts. The barn doors are frozen at the width of a person so a horse can't fit through, the path the barn is a long winding one I had done with the snowblower so I could access the chicken coop, and there is knee/thigh-deep snow everywhere.

Bisbee was a champ though when I led him through the hard, deep snow to access the gate outside the barn. He only made it so far in the pasture though before deciding that maybe sticking to the barn was a better idea.

Can't.....go....any....farther

Excuse me, there is no grain in this bucket.

It was nice to wake up and look out to see a face in the barn again, although I am SO. READY. for the snow to be gone. I'm looking forward to get to know Bisbee more and take him out for jaunts up the road.

Harlan is coming back from the boarding barn tomorrow and hopefully I'll find him a great new home soon.

Don't Eat The Yellow Snow

Every time there's a forecast of snow before a school day, I cross my fingers that we'll get a snow day.  When I woke up this morning and looked out the window to a tiny dusting of snow, I grumbled and got up.  The roads looked good so I decided to take gas-friendly Jerry the Honda Civic to school.

About half an hour into my drive to class I stopped and got a muffin and a cranberry juice. It had just started to snow big, fat, heavy flakes as I got onto the interstate so I kept an eye on my phone for a text from University of Maine-Augusta signaling that school is canceled.

Nothing.

I kept driving northeast while the snow got heavier and the visibility got lower. Still no text from UMA. Usually they cancel when there is a hint of a snowflake so I was thinking it was just a matter of time.

The road was slick as snot and I could barely see the car in front of me.  When I had to use my brakes to slow down the antilock brake system immediately engaged. I decided to call the school because if there was any chance of school being canceled, I wanted to turn around as soon as possible and get home safely.

The lady who answered the phone cheerfully answered my question with a "Nope! Drive safe!" Hmph. I would've already turned around and gone home if I didn't have a lab exam, so I continued going 45 mph and keeping a football field between me and the car in front. At this point I knew I was going to be late to my first class but figured it would only be by 10-15 minutes.

And then traffic stopped. Luckily I had that football field length in front of me to safely stop; the car behind me had to slide off onto the shoulder to avoid hitting me. Thinking it would only be a few minutes before whoever slid off the road up ahead would be cleared out, I pulled out my homework and got busy.

Do you ever have those moments when you know you can't access a bathroom so immediately you feel like you *have* to pee?

I was starting to feel a little discomfort but hoped it was just psychosomatic nonsense because I knew I was still 15 miles away from school and there was no bathroom in sight.

45 minutes later and it's definitely not psychosomatic. It was bad enough that I could no longer concentrate on my homework. I cursed my past self, thinking why o why did I pick cranberry juice on this of all days??


I posted a facetious complaint on Facebook and then immediately saw that someone else had posted a news article about a 40 car pile up.

After a brief moment of Oh shit, hope everyone's okay, thank god I wasn't in it, I immediately, selfishly started to panic because I HAD TO PEE. The news article said the highway was closed for the rest of the morning and I was a mile past the last exit before the accident.

I did a risk-benefit analysis of my options. Holding it was out if I was going to be sitting there for another few hours. I had beaucoup bottles in my car if I wanted to pee in the privacy of my car, but the risks of peeing all over myself and my car seemed too high. There were 5 foot snow banks on either side of the highway so tromping into the woods was going to be an effort plus the bare trees did not provide much cover.

That left opening both of the passenger side doors and squatting between them. I told myself that the worst that could happen would be maybe 3 people would be flashed by my pasty white butt. I'd probably never see them again, so what's the harm?

After steeling myself, I turned off the car (I was taking my keys with me, it would be just my luck to lock myself out) and peed on the side of the road like a goddamn animal. Huzzah!

I got back into the car, posted about my success on Facebook, and then looked out my window to see a state trooper signaling me. Shit, did I just flash a state trooper?!? Am I busted for public urination???

I rolled down the window and was extremely relieved (in more ways than one, get it??) when the trooper merely said that I could turn my car around and go back to the last exit if I wanted to. Which I did, ruing the fact that if I had just waited 10 more minutes I could've used a bona fide gas station bathroom instead of getting snow down my pants.

I opted not to try to find a different slippery route to school and just headed home; too much excitement (and exposure) for one day!

Sending good thoughts to all of those people in the wreck.

Livin' the Twister Life

I feel like my life is a giant game of Twister right now....right foot on work, left foot on school, right hand on MMSAR, and left hand on all other obligations. Now switch it all up and don't forget to trip over the dogs as you try to renegotiate the position of your various limbs.

It's both exhilarating and exhausting. Mostly exhausting.

I apologize for the dearth of blog posts. Here are some updates:

- Edith the chicken has gone missing. :(

The trainer is also a skilled photographer

- I FINALLY found a saddle that fits both Harlan and me.

- Harlan and I have been taking lessons and improving/rebuilding our partnership.

- Finch and I took some lessons to work on her obedience and doggy social skillz with the longterm goal of getting into agility.

- Feeling left out of the Problem Child Club, Hobbes bit a friend's puppy and I am currently trying to figure out how to improve his doggy social skillz in all my spare time.

- I accidentally volunteered for the new position of Education & Recruitment Officer for MMSAR and am trying to plan some neat events this spring/summer.

How I keep myself entertained in bio

- I finished wallpapering the living room after 2 years of "working on it".

- We got a shit ton of snow and it's been really cold.

- I am rejoicing in not having horses at home for the winter.

- A project I helped with at work got some good recognition.

- I drive 1.5 hours each way 3 days a week for school.

- I am taking chemistry, bio, and intro to vet tech this semester. They are not fascinating courses.


So there's a slice of the twister life! I am definitely ready for summer.

Dream Weaver

I've been having recurring dreams / dream themes for a few months.  Would you like to know what they are? Of course you do.

1. Moose sighting
You guys, not having seen a moose haunts me. At least once per week I'll have a dream that I FINALLY see one. I dream about posting it on Facebook and happy-texting everyone I know. And then I wake up and I'm sad.

I really did graduate high
school legitimately.

2. School
I think it's pretty common for people to have school related nightmares. I've had them where I have forgotten to go to class all semester, forgot my locker combination, etc etc. However, I have had a particular dream multiple times. I'm me in this day and age, and I get a notice from my high school that there was a mistake and they shouldn't have let me graduate. So I have to go back to high school and take some dumb math or physics or something class, all the while knowing I have a college degree. It's terrible.





3. School Part 2
In this scenario I've decided to go back to my alma mater (for vet school pre-reqs or somesuch) and I'm going to live with my old roomie again. And then either a) we've forgotten to sign a lease and have nowhere to live or usually b) I realize I have a farm in Maine and I have to back out, leaving Annie with an apartment she can't afford all by herself. Sorry Annie.

He was definitely the type of cat who would haunt people.

4. Zombie Cat
A couple times I've dreamed that my childhood cat Simba is back from the dead. Not in a creepy zombie way, just...back.




What are your weird recurring dreams?

High Hopes for 2015

Happy New Year, errbody!

I just got home Wednesday from a week at the (temporary) familial homestead. My parents' new house renovations are taking longer than expected and since they have already sold the old house, they are basically camping out in the woods in their cabin. No internet, no TV, surrounded by 54 acres of woods.

Needless to say, it was really nice.

I had to go all to Wisconsin just to see a damn moose.

However, not only was this the first Christmas not in the old house, it was also while my parents/their belongings are in a state of limbo. Add in that sister, brother-in-law, and brand new nephew weren't there, my other sister and brother-in-law left the cabin Christmas morning, and my brother and his fiance arrived Christmas evening...and it was a strange holiday!

I did get to see two out of three sibling sets though, as well as a very dear friend and her toddler. And I ripped through ten books (I highly recommend the Chicagoland Vampire series if you like that kind of thing - although be forewarned, it's a little romance novel-y).

As with any trip's end, it is good to be back home.  My dogs were pretty excited to see me after a week's neglect (just kidding, KR took great care of them) and the cats only gave me the cold shoulder for a few hours.

Reflecting back on 2014, I look at the scar on my hand and shift my butt to find a comfortable spot for my bruised tailbone and I say good riddance to bad rubbish! Here's to 2015 being a bigger and better year with plenty of adventures but much less bodily harm.

Baby Steps to the Elevator

Subtitle: Roses Are Red, Violets Are Blue, I'm a Schizophrenic and So Am I

Harlan and I are in the process of rebuilding. Rebuilding our partnership, rebuilding individual confidence, rebuilding trust.

Hooboy is it hard. It was really surprising and discouraging to discover how fearful I've become as a rider. I know it shouldn't be surprising, considering the amount I've hit the ground and the injuries I've gotten (broken rib, bruised tailbone), but nevertheless. It's the ol' immortality complex: it happens to other people, not me.  And yet it has happened to me.

Harlan will always be a sensitive pony and I knew that when I bought him. I knew that I would have to be a more "present" rider with him than with Tanner. My new trainer asked me why I bought him if I had known that he had dumped people before, especially since I was used to bombproof Steady Eddy quarter horses (aka Tanner). I got Harlan because I *wanted* something  a little more "up", a little faster, a little more fun.

And for the first couple months we had a blast together! He was alert but relaxed on the trails. I trusted him to keep me safe, he trusted me to keep him safe.

Then I switched saddles and things changed, and it took me a while to connect those dots. Harlan started shying more and more often, throwing in a buck or two on occasion.

Once I figured out it was the saddle I went through quite a few saddles trying to find one that would fit him. The one that he liked the best was a Bob Marshall treeless saddle and it was very comfy. It was not, however, very stable. Which meant that when shit went south, the saddle was no help to keeping me on top.

Add a fall almost every ride and a couple of super painful landings, and something broke. Harlan no longer trusted me to be the confident leader he so desperately needs and I no longer trusted him to behave.

I really don't blame him nor am I angry at him. When things got scary for him and I "bailed" (read: fell off) he probably felt abandoned to deal with the monsters by himself. I didn't have the tools to figure out how to reassure him.

We both lost confidence in ourselves and in each other.

If I didn't have the opportunity to board him this winter and be able to work with a trainer, it probably would have been the end of our partnership.

I still don't have a good saddle that fits both him and me, but I have something that works in the meantime. We're working a lot on the ground establishing boundaries and increasing confidence. In the saddle we're working on a one-rein stop so that when things get scary we have a go-to maneuver that reassures both of us.

Even with this solid progress in a short time, when I'm in the saddle now I constantly have to remind myself to breathe and to relax. I feel good, I feel great, I feel wonderful. I feel good, I feel great, I feel wonderful.

I'm struggling with parsing out my feelings. On the one hand, I sometimes want to run away from the problem by finding a new home for Harlan and getting another bombproof QH. On the other, I feel like I owe it both Harlan and myself to give this a chance and don't we remember the good times?




I have a pretty strong fear of failure so sometimes when things start looking like I might fail, I bail instead. I also tend to subscribe to the Disney Prince Ideology, which normally applies to romantic relationships but can also be applied here.


The Disney Prince Ideology is the belief that if there is any sort of conflict between two people, it is obviously not meant to be.

For example: If he really was my Prince Charming, we wouldn't argue. We would understand one another and seamlessly get along forever and ever AND EVER. Which translates to: If he really was the right horse for me, we would understand one another and seamlessly get along forever and ever AND EVER.

But when I'm feeling like maybe Harlan isn't the right horse, I have another voice inside my head asking therapist-y questions. Where are these feelings coming from? Could this be related to your fear of failure? Let's talk about your childhood.

And then the second voice chimes in (it's busy in my head, guys). Yes, but should you force something that isn't right? Don't waste your time, yo! Cut your losses and move on.

Isn't that a little premature? Are you perhaps shying away from hard work? Are you SURE it's "not right"? Don't make a rash decision.

Well...maybe....but are you trying to force a square peg into a round hole because you think you owe it to Harlan or because that's what you feel like you're supposed to do?

I...don't know...

WHERE'S MY GODDAMN PRINCE CHARMING?!

**spontaneous combustion**

I am not a patient person (shut up, those of you thinking Thank you Captain Obvious). I don't like not making a decision, I don't like sitting with indecision. I know that I don't need to make a decision right now and I shouldn't make one. I know that no matter what, working with him now will make me a better rider and him a better horse.

And yet that circus keeps on yelling in my head. Arglebargle. 

So I'll end this schizophrenic post with a reminder to myselves to just take baby steps. Baby steps to the elevator, Bob, baby steps to the saddle. Rome wasn't built in a day, decisions don't have to be made right this very second, etc etc.

Eventually I'll be a sailor. Baby steps. 

I'm sailing! I sail! I'm a sailor, Dr. Marvin!

I feel good, I feel great, I feel wonderful. 

I'm an Auntie! & Other Updates

Some of you may have known that my oldest sister and her husband were expecting a little 'un. Well that little 'un made a sudden appearance late Wednesday night to everyone's surprise.

Meet Henry!

He was born 3.5 lbs at 29 weeks. Mama is doing well and has been discharged, while Henry is in good hands at the NICU. He's getting lots of "kangaroo care" (having skin to skin contact for an hour at a time) and has both sets of grandparents visiting this weekend, plus lots of love from Maine radiating his way.

I am so excited to be the wicked cool auntie who plays fun games when Henry visits like "Shovel All the Poop" and "Run Around and Eat Sugar Til You Go Home"!

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In less exciting news, winter is officially here. One upside is that I decided to move Harlan to a local barn with an indoor riding arena. Not only will I have a nice dry place to work with him, but I won't have to do winter chores once boarder horse Zin also moves for the winter. And I'm taking lessons to work on my riding, Harlan's training, and our partnership so (knock on wood) I won't hit the ground so much next spring.

School is winding down; just one last week of classes then finals week.  Classes have been SO BORING, and next semester won't be any different. I'm holding out though til next fall when I'll take more interesting, vet tech-specific courses.

Between work, school, and going out to the new barn, I don't have much free time. When I do, I spend it with the dogs and cats chillaxing and binging on Netflix. I'm so cool.