The Herd at Work

Certainly work is a relative term, or should be, depending on age and expectations of the critter. For a fabulous blog post on the concept of work, rest, and recovery, please do go read this piece by Mel. (but do come back!)


Now that you've had some brain protein, here's dessert ;-)

kinda derpy but LOOK, her very first own tack 

(halter bridle, padded breastcollar & reins by Distance Depot)

Electric royal blue is her color <3

Sheza has been working the mature angle lately and she couldn't move through

 her willies to answering all my requests correctly quickly enough.

sometimes she almost rolls her eyes at me,

 "Yeah, see, watch me do it perfectly, what ELSE mom"

On Sunday my husband dropped me at one end of the trails and picked me up 

with a picnic at the other end. Perfection! 

Scrappy yoga

 Scrap was forward & went well in the Kimberwick on snaffle setting 

started on the cold side with ice in the puddles

let's go climb that! 

 12 barefoot miles later made it to the sunny side

quick toe roll with the rasp at home and BOY did his feet look pretty

gorgeous January sunrise, as the full moon set behind me

The humans must work tending the herd too, so yesterday pm we 

drilled holes & cemented in a few new fence posts to replace ones gone wibbly. 

that didn't take long

Rory was predictably helpful while Scrappy cared not and Sheza hid behind Scrappy

Rory is rather like a seventh dog--she's got a nose for trouble rather like a Doxie, too!

My beefy 3 yr old princess! Sheza didn't check things out til the tractor and 

tools were well away, with proper haat girl dignity 

The weather has taken a sudden turn for the sultry. That portion of the fence project will be finished by tomorrow, and it's on to the next thing that needs fixing. I can't say that there is much of anything more rewarding to me than tending the land and the herd. Certainly I enjoy adventure and am looking forward to all sorts of new challenges this year with the horses as well as launching our solo guide business; undeniably, the grounded country girl in me wakes early, eagerly, sipping hot tea as the sun rises over herd and heart, and is content.