Miracle a Day Project
I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.
I'll be at the table
When company comes.
Say to me,
"Eat in the kitchen,"
They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed--
I, too, am America.
The way the morning sunlight plays through the grape leaves in the orchard is enchanting. It inspired this photo and prayer. Enjoy!
When I have reached my autumn
Please make me a leaf
That I, too, on losing my chlorophyll
Might be revealed in all my glory
May the wear and tear of this life
The nicks, rips, and brown spots on my surface
From the brilliant golds, greens, and reds
The "content of my character"
The rich, organic nature of my soul
Bless you, God
For this magnificent life I am living
And please remember
To make me a leaf
When I have reached my autumn
It has not been a good year for tomatoes. My heirlooms are still green on the vine and the Romas a just barely starting to come on. It's mid-September!
Thankfully, my Sungolds are going strong.
My horses are always teaching me something. Of all the horses I've known, a fourteen year-old bay roan mare named Drifty has taught me the most. Six-and-a-half years ago, I fell in love several photos of Drifty that appeared in a "for sale" ad on the Fisher Quarter Horses web site.
After multiple phone conversations with Leo Fisher, I made the drive up to Winlock, Washington. There, I got to meet Leo and Laurel's foal crop, the geldings, stallions, and broodmares. I was impressed with the horses' calm temperaments, sturdy conformations, and colors.
Most of all, I fell in love with Drifty. She was big-as-a-house pregnant and hadn't been ridden in years but that didn't stop Leo from haltering her and trotting her around the pasture full of broodmares. Bareback.
I was so impressed that I promptly went home and sold a camera lens and a saddle so I could buy Drifty. Looking back, it was the best heart-driven decision I've ever made.
Drifty trailered home like a dream and backed out of the box with ease. We discovered that she had horse lice, so we put her in the wash rack and gave her a bath. She stood quietly for her scrubbing and the ensuing insecticide dusting.
Leo had warned us that Drifty had never been stalled, so we were expecting a little bit of drama. Never happened. Drifty circled her stall three times and settled in like a champ.
Like most eight year-old horses, Drifty had some baggage. She was incredibly head shy and her front end was muscle bound to the point of soreness. We didn't start her under saddle until she had delivered a beautiful blue roan filly, Jetblue. While Drifty was a sweetheart on the ground, riding her had felt like sitting astride two tons of Tasmanian devil with a short fuse.
From a training perspective, Drifty was a very tall, very dangerous feeling order. It's taken six years to hit our stride, six years in which I've grown tremendously. My sense of a horse and my thoughts on what it means to be a true horsewoman have entirely shifted during that time.
Drifty taught me how to work with an ultra sensitive horse, to win her trust and create a meaningful bond. I'm still learning and incredibly thankful for my time with Miss Drifty.
One of the best things about life with horses is sharing the experience. This past weekend, Andrew took his first ride on our gelding, Gin, and it was a big success. Rosie's excellent instruction, Andrew's relaxed and positive attitude, and Gin's super calm temperament all combined to create a fun day.