smellshorsey

Sometimes You Need to Get Away from Your Horses

This photo is of a time-share houseboat on Lake Powell, whose shoreline touches both Arizona and Utah. I've never been, but the photos are breathtaking. You can find out about getting a houseboat timeshare on Lake Powell at Sunrise Peak's Lake Powelll Houseboats

It was already humid when I was cleaning the stalls this morning. School gets out next week, and I can't wait to go somewhere where there's a large body of water. I love my horses, but I love me more. Sometimes you just need to get away from your horses. (And they probably need a break from you, too.)

I always thought houseboats were kind of silly and for old people until some of our good friends got one and we've had the pleasure of boating with them on Lake Lanier in Georgia. It really is so much fun and a great way to really get away from it all. However, they spend all of their free time maintaining their boat. While I think they enjoy it, like I enjoy cleaning stalls (sort of), maintaining a boat wouldn't be the thing for me.

Our friends own their monstrous big fancy boat (whopping big investment) but you can also get a timeshare on a boat at Lake Powell. If I lived closer, I'd certainly look into it.

Comparing Horse (and Pet) Insurance Plans

You can buy all kinds of insurance online. I just found out you can also buy pet insurance online, at least if you live and keep your horse (or pet) in the UK and related islands. You can get coverage for other animals, too, including dogs, cats, hamsters (!) and exotic pets.

I've done a lot of work over the years for health insurance companies that cover humans. I had no idea about the varieties of insurance you can get for your pets. You can get coverage for the things you'd expect, such as replacement cost and medical coverage. I didn't know you can get coverage to board your pet if you're sick and can't take care of it. Or that you can get coverage for advertising expenses if your pet or pet horse wanders off.  (We had it happen years ago when Paul never could remember to latch the gate and the one-eyed Shetland pony was always alert for such events. He never went far but it was always scary.)

You can get coverage to reimburse you for your vacation costs if you have to cut your holiday short to come home because your pet was sick! I've had that happen, but didn't have insurance. My horse colicked and we were in Florida. Ouch! Vet bills and hotel bills! And if and when the worst happens, you can even get coverage for cremation or other end-of-life expenses.

And for horse owners, they even have special insurance for aged horses. And for riders without horses.

I don't live in the U.K. and I don't know that I would opt for these coverages, but it's fascinating to know that they exist and that you can go to one web site (link above) to compare multiple insurance plans and insurance companies, find out what you need to know about pet insurance in general and get online quotes. I really do feel like Rip Van Winkle.

This same site also has a page where you can shop and compare credit cards. Seems like a good way to get informed and get a good deal at the same time. And it's not pushy. Just straightforward information with the option to call a real person.

How to Keep Dirt Out of Your House

Some of you live in clean houses. How do you do it? Do you keep your boots in the barn? What about the shoes that take you from the barn to the house? How do you get them into the house without muddying the house? I have a system, and it doesn't work.

I've set up several obstacles in an effort to keep the pasture, barn and dirt-in-general from tromping right into the house. First you're supposed to stomp your feet with every step you take across the driveway. I know this technique must be successful because my driveway is dirty.

Next is the boot scrubber-scraper by the back door. It's better in theory than in reality. For one thing, the next one I get will have a handle because if you get a really good scraping-rhythm going, you'll find yourself balancing on one leg for an instant before crashing to the ground, then you need to scrape your whole dirty self off before coming on in. (Maybe you are less clumsy than I am -- I broke my foot watering a plant.)

After that, you're supposed to use a regular door mat. I wish I had this one with its reminders to get your cell phone, keys and wallet. Doormats soon get clogged with dirt and animal hair at our house and aren't very effective at removing dirt. Hosing them off and scrubbing helps restore them, but it would be just as easy to hose and scrub the dirt out of the pasture.

Those family members who would like to continue living in this house are expected to take their shoes/boots/dirty socks or whatever off while standing outside. There's a chair for them to sit on. They're expected to look at their footwear and bang it against the side of the house, their foreheads, whatever hard surface they can find in order to knock the rest of the dirt off. I think there is a serious lack of effort in this department unless I'm watching. (And of course I don't do it either unless they're watching.)

Then there's the shoe rack in the laundry room/mud room designed to keep the every day shoes from taking one step farther into the house. The really dirty boots are supposed to go in a plastic laundry basket by the door. Right now it's overflowing with Homeless Things. How do the Homeless Things -- the dog leash, a busted leadrope, a halter for a horse we no longer own, too-small flip flops and other items -- end up in the dirty boot box? Why, because they're homeless. Next time I have a mood swing they'll find themselves in the yard.

And then there are the dirt-picker-uppers that litter the laundry/mud room. The brooms that won't sweep themselves, various failed floor cleaners and even a path covered with floor mats and old towels. The best is the Swiffer vacuum, though the battery only lasts about two minutes. It helps.

Clearly, my system is not working. There's as much rich pasture dirt in the house as in the pasture. Our Berber carpet, which is basically made of plastic, is really holding up well, but like me, it too will soon begin to despair and give up. At that point, I'll have to call the professionals. Shall I call a professional moving company and get me out of here? Or how about a professional carpet cleaner?

How do you keep your barn (and other) dirt out of your house?

Sometimes You're Forced to do Things You Don't Like

Quite a few years ago my husband, Paul, was pulling out of an office driveway in his Diesel VW Rabbit when a city police car traveling at a high rate of speed without its siren on around a blind corner slammed into him, spinning him across four lanes and into a tree. Paul's head shattered the driver's door window and the backseat of the car was crushed, but Paul survived and in fact turned out to be okay. People stopped to help and the policeman who was driving the car interfered with them, ordering the off-duty EMT who was a witness and was trying to cut Paul out of his seatbelt to stop, saying that the EMT was "destroying evidence." Witnesses were so outraged that they left their names and numbers.

We were grateful that Paul was able to recover fully. And it was so clearly the policeman's fault. So were we ever surprised to be served papers that the city was suing us for the accident. This part was not the city's fault, but I was served the papers within hours of learning my mother had breast cancer. Paul and I were taking a walk to help me take it all in. And when we walked back up our driveway, there was the paper server. The good news there is that my mother's breast cancer didn't require chemo and didn't recur. But that seemed an extra cruelty -- to serve papers for an accident that could have killed Paul and wasn't his fault on such a day (mind you, I know they had no way of knowing. I also doubt they would have cared.)

That's when we had to hire a lawyer, and found a good one who took it on a contingency basis. We were never going to take this to court, but they sued us. All we wanted was for the city to pay for Paul's hospital bills and his car. We offered to settle for a very reasonable amount. Nothing doing. The city attorney thought he would be a hero by instead making us pay. I will never understand this part, especially with all the witnesses who had come forth.

The city forced us to fight them. And because we were right and we had a good lawyer, we won. We won far more than we had asked for in settlement. So the city took the case to the state Supreme Court. We won again.

It took years and was so unnecessary. What started out as gratitude that Paul was okay turned to anger as we were dragged through the courts by the city and the process went on and on. It took so much of our time, our emotions and our lives. We felt that our good, hard-working trial lawyer well deserved his 30 percent.

I hope you never need a lawyer like this and that you never have such an experience. Life is too short to spend it fighting with jerks in court. But if you have to, it's good to know there are good lawyers out there. We used a S.C. lawyer, but if you find yourself needing a good lawyer you'll want to look at philadelphia accident attorneys.

Oh. And why was the policeman endangering citizens by flying around a blind corner with no siren? He was answering a false alarm at an ATM machine.

I'll always be grateful that no one was in that crumpled back seat, and I'll always believe it was the hand of God that protected Paul.

A Watch Tough Enough for the Barn

I'm rough on watches. I've given up on wearing pretty jewelry-type watches and usually wear what I call plastic watches. One for EST and one for Daylight Savings Time since I can't set either one of them.

But back when I was smarter and also was eventing, I needed a good, tough watch to keep me at the right pace on course. I'd always check my time at the half-way point, but would be so excited that I'd forget what my half-way-point time was supposed to be so I'd just keep going. (Lily has advised me that I should have written it down in ink on my skin. Good idea! Too bad she wasn't born yet so she could have helped me.)

Those watches didn't last all that long. If I needed one now, I'd look into getting a G-shock casio watch There are a bazillion of these Casio G-Shock watches to choose from, some having atomic timekeeping and solar power features. And they're supposed to be super-tough, horse-proof and horse-woman-proof. I'll bet if I followed the instructions (and didn't throw those instructions away) I could even work them.

I Have Stunning Yellow Birds on My Feeder -- I Think

My eyes aren't what they used to be. I hung up a feeder with Niger seed in it yesterday and today was convinced there were goldfinches on it. I had to ask Lily (who's still missing school from her fall) to look for me. "Are those birds yellow?" I asked. They were. How much fun is it to put out bird seed if you can't see the birds?

I'm supposed to wear contact lenses in one eye. That's my reading eye. My other eye is for distances and it doesn't get a lens. However, as you can see from my blurry goldfinches, it's not so good, either. I'm due for an eye exam and I might try again with the contact lenses. I have a few left -- boy were they expensive. I gave up on them because my eyes are dry and they'd get uncomfortable after a while, they were next to impossible to get in and out because they'd roll up on themselves and I couldn't tell which side was in and which side was out, and it would have been easier to remove my whole eyeball than to take out that lens.

But why go through life not seeing the beauty of things? (Plus, it would probably help my riding if I could see the jumps. Or not.) I think I may try again now that I've read about acuvue oasys and how you can get them at up to a 70 percent discount online. They're made for people with dry eyes. And they've got a tint that doesn't change the color of your eyes but helps you find the contact in the solution. Best of all, they've got some kind of indicator that tells you if the contact has turned itself inside out.

My eyes aren't improving. But I'm glad that the technology and the prices are.

How to Tell if Pearls Are Fake

I'm a great believer in mixing fake jewelry with real jewelry. If your rings are diamonds, surely your earrings are too, right? I think you can get away with a lot, though I'm so stupidly honest that if somebody compliments me I'll say, "It's fake. I got it at Target."

Plus I'm fickle so I don't want much that lasts. My grandmother had a very valuable very ugly piece of porcelain. I was so pleased when someone else wanted it. What a burden -- it's my grandmother's, it's worth a lot of money, it's fragile and it's ugly. Give me something with no obligation I can cast aside when I'm tired of it. (Note: This does not apply to people, animals, vehicles, trailers, computers, iPods, refrigerators or any other useful, costly thing.)

But, if you're buying Pearls, caveat emptor! There are a lot of fakes out there. I don't mind fakes, but I don't want to spend real money on fake pearls. If you see pearl jewelry for sale on the Internet and the price is too good to be true, well, use your head. It's a fake.

Kind of like if there's a fabulous, fancy horse in my price range, he's got navicular or something else wrong with him. (More on this tomorrow. Or whenever I get around to it.)

We've all seen how they test pearls to see if they're real or fake in the movies -- by biting down on them. Turns out this is a real test. (Not sure how you do it on the Internet, though.) Here's how you do it in person: gently bite down on the pearls with your front teeth. Slide your teeth up and down the pearls. If they're real, they'll feel gritty. If they're fake, they'll feel smooth.

You can also make sure you're getting the real thing by buying from a legitimate source. Terry Shepherd, who's known as The Pearl Hunter, says that all the fake pearls are bad for business. If you want to find out more about him or pearls, go to his site www.thepearloutlet.com.

You Can Wear Out or Rust

I hurt. I don't know if it's from riding Lucy for her rehab (and being out of shape), riding the exercise bike (and being out of shape) or working out regularly at Butterfly Life (and being out of shape), but there's not a spot on my body that isn't whining about something.

I wonder if the rehab is making Lucy hurt, too. I don't think so. My saddle is even hitting in the wrong spots on me. But the potential to hurt her is there, so I'm taking it slowly, even if she's not.

An older lady told me this morning about how she cured her joint pain with some herbal concoction of things she buys at Wal-Mart, and I even went by there with the idea of purchasing it. But if I'm going to swallow something, I want it to look medical. Not like it was made in a commune. I was not reassured by the box. So I'm still looking for something for my aches and pains.

I found glowing reviews about Salonpas Pain Relief Patch on epinions and Amazon, and I'm intrigued by this pain-relieving patch. The only downside I could find is that you're not supposed to use them if you can't tolerate aspirin. But you don't come here for medical advice and I'm not giving it, either.

Still, if you fool with horses, I'm sure you've got old injuries and new aches. As my grandmother used to say, we all have a choice. You can either wear out or rust.
 

Maybe I Need a New Camera

You've seen my fine camera work. Life is zooming by at the speed of a jumping horse pushed onward by a horse-loving 13-year-old girl, and all I get is the tail flying over the jump. I'm losing priceless memories, though since I switched to digital at least I'm not wasting film.

I understand that a fancy camera could make up for a lot of my incompetence. And did I mention that we're still shooting videos on VHS? The big tapes? The last time we tried to use it, it didn't work. Maybe it's time for an upgrade. It sure would be fun to get the whole jumping round on tape and in motion, not just the tail.

We're not quite ready (since we're looking for a truck), but I wouldn't hesitate to go to 42photo.com for a digital camcorder.

Before the Internet when I needed a camera, lens or audio equipment, I'd buy the Sunday New York Times where I could always find an ad for 42nd Street Photo that would usually have just what I was looking for at a very competitive price. I've bought a lot of things from them, and they never disappointed me. It was really great to have access to a big-city discounter for great products that I sometimes couldn't even get at full price in a store here at home. I'm glad they're still around.

How to Treat Yourself When You're "In Foal"

Lily turned 13 this past weekend, and I'd write a post about that if I could quit crying. I spent most of my life not wanting children because they looked like a lot of trouble to me (the side effect of becoming an aunt in third grade). But then, I realized I was wrong. Not to get into TMI here, but I had two miscarriages before I got pregnant with Lily. When I got pregnant with her, I was not only hyper-vigilante, I was also afraid to hope.

This meant that I didn't do one forbidden thing during my pregnancy. Not one sip of wine, etc. I also didn't do things that weren't forbidden, just in case. And I was afraid to fully invest in my pregnancy. I delayed buying maternity clothes. I delayed buying baby things. I delayed breathing. I held my breath. And waited to get to a "safe" place on the calendar.

When my ob. gave me news of a developing complication, I was already at my limit of worry. I had a choice: sink into despair, or get mad. So I got mad. I went out and bought baby clothes. One of those dresses I will keep forever because when I bought that dress I was saying, "No! I've had it! I WILL HAVE THIS BABY!" I do believe that something inside me changed. I started breathing again. And I reached out my hands to life and said, "Yes, yes, yes!"

I was still cautious and so focused on my swelling belly that I ignored myself, except for the parts where I ate right, didn't ride (just to be on the safe side), etc. What I wish I had done was gone out and bought some great maternity clothes for me. Not the temporary, get-by-with-this-for-work sensible things I got. But clothes that celebrated my condition and coming joy. Something like this great dress from Due Maternity, or maternity jeans.

And, once Lily was born, I would have made a little more space for myself, too. Part of that was unrealistic expectations. I actually thought that Lily would be asleep in the crib and that I could carry the baby monitor with me while I rode. That never happened, but what should have happened was for me to hire a sitter or get Paul to help me find time for myself. (I was working full-time as the director of PR for one of the largest agencies in the state, which didn't give a lot of time.) Maybe my recollections are as foggy as my expectations were, but it seems like I should have done more for me. It would have made me a better, less worried mother. (It couldn't have made me more worried.)

Perhaps it would have kept me from selling my fabulous horse. And my trailer.

The truly awesome thing is how my girl is here, alive and well. Just turned 13 and with every kind of horse ambition you can have. Every year is more fun than the last. I am so very blessed.