National Museum of the American Indian

Wandering down in the financial centre of New York, I found this interesting museum display of artifacts dedicated to the American Indian - inside a beautiful building were more beautiful, interesting things AND a display about the American Indian Horse Nation.  Well, of course I had to go in and see what was what - beautiful beadwork - including a lady beading in a corner, talking to people about her work and lots of horse related stuff - it was fascinating.

I have to tell you though, this was the scariest doll I ever saw in my life...

A timely reminder of respect...

You'll notice I've not been around much on the Blog...this isn't because I've fallen into some Blogging Black Hole, no, its because Merlin, whom I'd been admiring so much the night before, got kicked on the inside of a back leg and had to go to horse hospital.  This was after the vet said 'I don't like the look of this', so of course when I got home I looked up the things it could be and spent the night sobbing.   

I got Merlin to the hospital the next day, where he made a nuisance of himself by pulling out his IV line several times before they tied his legs together - no actually, sedated and put in a special padded stable.  
A number of days later I was told to take him home where I could continue nursing, though that was easier said than done - it took ages to get him up the horse-box ramp and then when he got up there, he careened into me, crushing my chest and specifically my sternum and rib-cage right up against a thick steel bar.   I actually shrieked in pain, though I have no idea where the noise came from, and they guy who was doing the driving went quite white.   By the time we'd finished manhandling him into the truck I was sobbing (again) and I couldn't drive home because I was in too much pain.  At that moment, I would willingly have sold him for 50p.

Got him home, both of us upset, got him settled, went home.  Everyone kept saying I should go to casualty but you know I just couldn't face the 5 hour wait just to be told there was something cracked which they couldn't do anything about; I figured that if it had been anything really catastrophic I wouldn't have been able to breathe, and I WAS still breathing.   This was 2 weeks ago and I still have massive bruising and it hurts when I cough or laugh.   I had hiccups last night and that wasn't much fun either.

Merlin continues to recover, back to his normal sweet and lovely self, though keeping him quiet and confined was impossible - he has started to go out in his own field - next to the other horses whilst his leg is still in the healing process .

Despite having taken all the precautions I felt I could at the time (I was wearing thick jeans, my steel-toecap boots, my hardhat and my gloves), I still got nailed to the side of the horse-trailer, and that made me realise how often we put ourselves at risk.  Merlin is the sweetest horse you could wish for, he can be a bit spirited but never once have I found him mean or nasty. 

He was upset, probably in a bit of pain and didn't understand I was taking him home.   I   should have insisted on his being sedated to minimise the trauma, I know that would have made things easier for him.   It has reminded me how much respect I need to have for a large unpredictable animal who weighs more than half a ton (as I well now know) and that I should always, always, expect the unexpected.

My boy

It was an idyllic evening at the stables tonight - When I called, Merlin came straight to me, despite there being lots of lovely lush soft green grass to munch on.  He looks well - look at the shine on that coat, he looked so good my heart flipped.  

As I mucked out the stable, he was watching me from the barn door (complete with strand of hay dangling from his ear), he's content and safe and happy; we are so relaxed at our new home, hanging out with the horse is a pleasure once again.

Cheshire Show 2010

Today I spent a beautiful sunny day at the local Cheshire agricultural show, where the country-loving population of Cheshire congregates to show off their cheese, their cakes, their flowers, horses and their goats, amongst other things.   As I know my horse is already the best in the world, we decided not to enter anything to give everyone else a chance of winning something (hah!)

The first tent I went into held pigs.  I didn't stay in there very long.  I think you can imagine.

I watched a carriage driving class with breathtakingly smart horses, drivers and little lightweight carriages - the chap pictured driving this beautiful horse is 82 years old.   82, wow.  I wonder if he does his own grooming and mucking out.   Why did I wonder that??  Anyway, when all 5 participants arrived in the ring I knew he was going to win, his turnout was so perfect I couldn't fault it.  And I know nothing about carriage driving.   The only thing was, the class took so long to judge I began to lose the will to live, so I went for ice-cream and came out of the food tent half an hour later to find he was driving round showing his red ribbons, but then, maybe he'd been doing that for half an hour, I don't know.

I attended this year with an eye towards perhaps taking a stall in the craft tent next year.  Uh-uh, I don't think so.  I was so disappointed.  Wouldn't you think that the Cheshire show would concentrate on crafts local to the area?   There was an abundance of mass produced junk jewellery, crafts which had been imported from places across the world (where presumably they can make it cheaper than we can here), and just general garbage that no-one would want.   The few really good crafts-people in there were just about overwhelmed by the abundance of - basically - crap.   I felt truly sorry for them.  And the tents were so hot I thought I was going to die within about 8 minutes of going in, and then I felt sorry for everyone.  

I fell in love with the goats.  I have to get a goat or two, true, they stink, but they have great characters.   So I have decided to keep a herd of pigmy goats in the back garden - I wonder if the neighbours will mind?  Mind you, with some of the parties that some of our neighbours have until four in the morning followed by free-range shouting and arguing for a couple of hours, goats would probably be a neighbourhood blessing.   And in case Fran, my neighbour down the road is reading this, no, its no-one actually on OUR road, if you get the picture.    And Fran, you wouldn't mind me having goats in our garden would you??  Bang go those roses, though.

This picture is of a young woman who had a most beautiful goat, she did tell me what it was - I may be wrong but I think a 'blonde Jersey' was what she said, though it may be that the goat had just eaten a blonde jersey.   I'd like to know who this goat's hairdresser is.  I wonder if he's cheaper than my hairdresser.

To be fair it was a lovely day.  I bought two sunhats because it was so hot I felt Iike I had  sunstroke (maybe I thought I had two heads by then, which does suggest I actually HAD sunstroke); I also bought a cherry pie which went straight into the freezer after reason set in when I returned home and I realised 32 degree heat is not the time of year to be eating pie. 

A lovely day.  I'll probably do it again in five years or so.