Here's a fun online game. Lily sent me the link to Jumporama, which she calls "Oddly addictive, but why is there no girth on the horse?"
Just one of those things.
What I want to know is how I managed to fall off three times yet the girthless saddle stayed put?
First off, I'm the first to tell you that this wasn't entirely fair. My TB has a fat behind and the light was funny. Plus I am photo-challenged. (Taking a photo of your horse's rear is more difficult than you think when the other end wants to see what you're up to.) So, here's the answer:
A=TB
B=Apx. QH
You would have gotten it right in an instant if you saw them in person. Come on out! I'll show you.
Guess which hindquarters belongs to the TB, and which belongs to the Apx/QH.
You'd have no trouble if you saw them in person.
Enter your guess in the comments section.
Hindquarters A
Hindquarters B
There are many uses for manure. You've probably thought of gardening, and now you're scratching your head wondering about use number 2.
How about manure for Children's Games? Yes, that's right! Not made in China, lead-free and you've already paid for it (in its previous incarnation -- food). To the inventive and sadistic child, manure is the perfect toy.
Non-Saintly Brother (to read more, click here) is six years older than I am. We had a mountain of a horse manure pile when we were children. They'd strip the stalls and pile it up. Then pile it up some more. Most of it was decomposed or decomposing, and would eventually be carted off to the garden for Manure Use Number 1. But there was always a fresh side.
Isn't there always a fresh side? I think everything about horses smells wonderful. But not the stuff on the fresh side.
My older, bigger, Non-Saintly Brother would yell, "King on the Mountain!" and stand at the top of the enormous manure pile. I couldn't stand for him to be king, so I'd rush up the mountain and try to knock him down. I shocked myself at this, as I had previously avoided the manure pile. But I dashed up the mountain to knock down the self-proclaimed king.
You could say I was innocent. You could say I was stupid. My goal was simply to push him down the mountain. His goal was to push me down into the fresh side.
He was bigger. So I was stinkier. And got stinkier. And stinkier. But I kept running back up that mountain.
We played this every week. Every now and then I'd knock him down into the fresh side.
So, the next time your children are playing in the shaving pile or the hay, just remember: It could be worse.
We went to a great party last night for Lily's riding teacher, who will soon have a baby. It was at a beautiful house with a multi-tiered (I don't think that's the word I'm looking for but it will do) yard. At the bottom grassy tier was an enormous collection of dog agility jumps -- for the children! If you could walk and were under the age of 20, you were out jumping.
While the adults had fun talking with adults inside, the kids were outside setting up courses and pretending to be horses. Great exercise, great fun and a wonderful way for even the shy kids to join the fun.
Turns out that the horse-mom-in-charge takes the dog jumps with her to horse shows for the younger children to have something to do.
Some people are so clever. And fun.
