We've all heard that quote haven't we? Whether it came from an inspirational speech, a horse-loving friend, a book you were reading or any number of things. What does it mean to you? Obviously if you love horse - like me - you know what the quote is trying to convey, but if you don't like horses, what are you supposed to glean from it?
Like a lot of young girls I was bitten by the horse bug early on in life. It all started when my Mom brought my brother and I to Hardee's, I was maybe three or four. Upon going through drive-thru I found out there was a toy in the bag. As it turned out that toy was a plastic, white horse. To this day I still have that horse stashed somewhere in one of several toy chests scattered around the house, buried amongst other childhood relics like memorabilia treasure waiting to be discovered and remembered.
Since that day my love of horses has grown ten fold! For each birthday and Christmas after that little white horse my parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents and friends all bought me horses, and I couldn't have been happier! I'm sure while I was growing up my parents, albeit feeling joy watching me feed my obsession, also undoubtedly felt a trickling sense of trepidation. After all, horses are infamously synonymous with high costs. But despite that looming fact I still found ways to get up on a horse every now and then.
It started with a therapeutic program called R.E.I.N.S, and although I couldn't tell you what it stands for anymore, I can say that after struggling to balance my bike while riding without training wheels, after just a few short weeks of riding the horses in the program...I rode my bike with ease, no trace of the lack of equilibrium. The program was a huge help for me throughout my childhood years. All of the horses were extremely relaxed, therefore I felt comfortable around them. Perhaps too comfortable! Some of the horses would sense my confidence up in the saddle and want to take off at a trot. I still have a lock of hair from the tail of one of the ponies I rode in the program tucked away in my closet. I can remember what the horse looks like, but it's name? That's a different story. But I do remember a small pony I rode upon first entering RE.I.N.S who's name was Nugget.
I've come to realize that as I get older I remember things in freeze frame, like my mind's eye is a stuck-open shutter, always snapping pictures and storing them in towering metal filing cabinets where they sag against the floorboards of my memory under their relentless weight. Like I was discussing yesterday with the owner of the horse rescue farm I volunteer at in Reedsville, I also remember directions to certain places by landmarks along the way. For instance, for the right exit off of the highway to get to the horse rescue farm I recognize it not by it's name but by the fact that there's two red barns across the street. Just as on the way up to my Grandparents' house I know I'm getting close by the scenery becoming familiar.
Whether all of that is evidence of a photographic memory I'm not sure, but that's how I've always remembered things. This is what happens when I free-write, I get myself off track! But it all ties together in the end anyway, like I've said before. For how random my blog posts seem, and how varied their topics are, there is always a connecting thread between all of them like a bridge across every river.
After R.E.I.N.S I was involved in 4-H for a number of years. I dabbled in a program called Horseless Horse, which teams up people who have horses...with people who don't, and while the program wasn't all successful for me, I did get to spend some more time with horses and even show a few times! It wasn't until my senior year of high school that I really got involved with horses. At the high school I went to it was tradition that all seniors, in place of exams, would complete a nearly year-long project called Capstone. Since it was a Christian school the project focused on a problem based locally in Sheboygan - my hometown in Wisconsin - and how we, as students, could look at it through a Christian point of view and come up with solutions. I decided to do horse abuse and slaughter, since the issue of horse slaughter was up for debate in congress at the time. I garnered myriads of information, and visited a few horse rescue farms around Sheboygan, one of them being Sunrise Horse Farm in Reedsville, Wisconsin, which is owned and operated by Mary-Ellen Kiel.
When I first arrived she only had six horses, but as of current times she has ten. Just like the horses at R.E.I.N.S all eight horses are extremely docile. Mary-Ellen only uses six horses for the program she runs, the other three being owned by other people. The first time I'd stepped foot on her farm I hadn't been around horses for a while, but after meeting her and taking a walk down to the barn I realized that my freshly built up fears were senseless. I felt at ease around the horses, whether I was feeding them, brushing them or simply feeding them treats. Mary-Ellen herself is a very kind, unassuming and compassionate woman. Usually it takes me a while to warm-up to strangers, that is, to open up, but I found myself chatting amiably with her, perhaps finding comfort in her friendly disposition and that of the other people there.
Nowadays I try to make it out there just to help out with chores and such, as well for major events, such as the Christmas party or her recent Fall Festival, which took place last month. I am comfortable around all the horses and enjoy spending time around them. Take yesterday for example. It had been a cold day, with the wind gnashing its teeth in that all too familiar matter of Wisconsin winters, while temperatures tauntingly dipped below fifty-five degrees. Despite the biting wind and the cold stone walls emanating that chill in the barn I found solstice by brushing the eldest horse of the eight, a thirty-seven year old Morgan named Jubilee. Forgetting my gloves in the house I soon found my hands warmed by his body heat, not to mention his luxuriously thick winter coat. In turn I found laughter in the three barn kittens scampering around my feet, and Mary-Ellen's sole remaining dog, Shep, who was eager for attention.
There is something peaceful about completing a task as seemingly mundane as brushing a horse. While I listened to the sound of him methodically chew his food, the normal creaks and groans of an old barn and the scampering's of the mischievous kittens I let my mind wander like it always yearns too like a half-broken Mustang straining at the bit to run across the Plains. On the farm, in that barn, amidst the horses, eating a simple, healthy dinner with Mary-Ellen, feeding the horses hay, or playing with the kittens or petting the dog...life seems simpler. All of the complications, worries, fears, uncertainties and everything in-between falls away, as if only a few words are scribbled on that page, in that moment, instead of entire paragraphs hastily scrawled across it's surface in a dead panic as you rush from one thing to another.
Of course, I know for me it has a lot to do with the fact that Sunrise Horse Farm is located at the end of a secluded dirt road, removed from the bustle of city life. Mary-Ellen herself said she lived in the city for nine months years back but she hated it so much she moved back to the country. If any of you reading this blog post know me you know I despise the city. Its noise, its pollution, its hectic, haphazard pace, its complicated way of life...everything! Just as I wasn't born to endure Wisconsin's frigid winters so was I unequipped to live in the city. I can feel it from somewhere deep within me, perhaps from the well in which my resident writer at heart springs from, whenever I enter the countryside...this was where I was meant to live.
How can you be so sure you ask? After all, I've lived in the city my whole life, only entering the countryside every now and then. Like I said before, I can just feel it. Think of it as spotting that perfect dress across an entire store length. You haven't tried it on, haven't even seen it up close but yet you know...it's the perfect fit and style for you. Or perhaps you're reading a really good book and find yourself relating to the character in such a way you start experiencing the story along side them, almost as if you've entered the story itself. That's how it feels whenever I enter the countryside. If you want an even deeper picture of just how much I love the countryside and small towns read my blog post entitled Where The Green Grass Grows.
Well, this has been an interesting blog post! I varied with topics ranging from therapeutic riding, 4-H, photographic memory, the horse rescue farm I volunteer at...to my indistinguishable love for the countryside and horses! See what I mean? I could write all over the board when it comes to topics but yet there's that constant underpinning of connectivity. It's always there...you have to look a little harder to see it.
In closing, for anyone wishing to get around horses again, I strongly advise looking up local horse rescue farms, animal shelters or any other non-profit organization. Not only do they need help in any season, but you'll also become re-acquainted with being around horses and fall back into a plush comfort around them...just like I did! In addition, to loosely quote Mary-Ellen, it's during the wintertime that places like the one's I've mentioned, including her farm, need all the help they can get. Whether it's the holidays coming up, school, relatives arriving or just the fact that winter maroons us inside our homes...volunteer help becomes slack, shifting the burden of work upon those who remain. At Sunrise Horse Farm, the wind may be biting, the barn's stone walls may be permeated with a deep chill, your fingers may be barely able to hold a curry comb as you work burrs out of thick, winter coats but there's always a certain truth...the sweet, aromatic smell of a wood stove along with its welcoming heat and a steaming, warm cup of hot apple cider will be waiting for me. That, as well as the horses, the atmosphere and Mary-Ellen's inviting, amiable personality will keep me coming back through the winter.
Perhaps my next blog will focus on my obsession with apples!
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