Welcome to our ranch near Canada's west coast in Beautiful British Columbia's West Chilcotin mountain region. Where calling the vet means hollering back at the house to bring your kit, new friendships are formed from the back of a horse and true fun for a five year old is getting a machete for Christmas. Where 'cutting the dinks off' has a totally different meaning than what first comes to mind, Muck Boots are a household name, a hand shake still means something and the coffee is always on.

Friday 15 April 2016

Out of the Barn

 Paul has been busy going around pastures and fixing fence lately.  With our super early spring, the 'snowshoe' mosquitoes have already appeared.  (Dad coined this phrase I'm sure.....the mosquitoes are big and awkward and slow.  They are always the first out, often when there are still snow piles about....hence needing showshoes to land on I guess.)   Anyhow, Paul was muttering about how annoying the noise was (these guys don't really bite, they are too slow, but they do have that irritating sound....) and I told him I had yet to see a single one.  He snorted and told me I needed to get out of the barn more often.  Which then led to the discussion about whether I missed being around the barns constantly (as I am now), when the season changes and it is not longer necessary.

Now, don't get me wrong, I do quite enjoy the 'barn work'; the endless circle of watching, checking, monitoring, tagging, sorting, feeding, assisting and generally keeping track of who's who in the zoo.  But do I miss it when it is no longer a priority?

Well, a few days after that conversation we went to Four Mile to trim the main herd of horses.  I rode trusty Tiffany to bring the horses in to the pen.  Even she got a bit fired up as the horses are feeling pretty darn outstanding and a bit of racing around just added to the general fun.  But all good.  When we got done the trimming and sorted off a few to go to work, I was holding on to Rea.  If you are familiar with the blog, or our ranch, you'll probably remember Rea.  She is a great big sorrel mare with heart of pure gold.  She was mum's main steed for many years.  I got married on her, rode her through both pregnancies, rode her packing my boys as babies, and now she carries my oldest son.  And Ben is impatient for her to belong to him.

Well, beings Rea already had a halter on, I figured I might as well ride her.  Knowing full well she is not afraid to duck her head in the spring and give you a go......  Which she gleefully did.  Each time I started her into a lope, she got real tight, her ears nearly touching at the top, and we started hitting the ground much harder than necessary.  She doesn't really buck, or I never would have a) chose her to chase horses bareback with a halter or b) have had a hope of staying on!  I clamped my legs for all I was worth, wound one hand in her mane, and pulled her head around with the other.  It's hard to sound threatening and serious with a huge grin on your face, but luckily she eventually leveled out.  She was quite proud to prove she still 'had it' and I quite proud that I had stayed on the topside!
 I scooted around the horses, heading them off from the meadow into the pasture and we loped through a bunch of water.  Where the thought came from I'll never know, but I suddenly had the greatest urge to throw my arms up and fling my head back like Rose on the Titanic!

So tell me, do you think I miss the barn when calving is all over?  

1 comment:

kolea said...

Nice to think of lovely Tiffany this am. I am in Minnesota taking care of my sister. Spring is assaulting us. I,too, feel like shouting at the beauty and promise of it all. Happy days. See you in August. Marcia