My two year old filly, Flash, has been in training with Cal and Kim Noyons for about thirty days now. I went out to see her worked today. She has another thirty days before she comes home, but it was fun to see how far she has come already.
She looked overall willing and had a ton of try but you could still see that hint of obstinate baby in her. But really for thirty days I was blown away with how she worked! She knows how to be hobbled, working on ground tying and will stand quietly. Kim walk, trotted, and loped circles in her. She has a great back and was really working off her hindquarters.
The plan is to go out again in about two weeks and I’ll actually ride her. So excited for that day! Anyhow, that’s where Flash is and how she is.
So I was sitting here at the table. My two youngest coloring and blasting me with a hail storm of questions, “look at mes” , and just general little kid banter. I love my children . Like a lot. Like to the point I’d rather hang out with my kids than most other people. (Except PInk or Lady GaGa, I’d totally drop my kids to go hang with them…) But you know that moment when you feel as if your brain will burst ? Yeah, I was there….so totally there…One more, “Look at this Mom!” And I was totally going to lose my crap.
Sometimes my brain just needs a monotonous task to zone out to. So I decided to sharpen all those pencils my kids get for holidays, random school parties etc. I counted 39 total. Awesome! Total zone out work. As I began sharpening I immediately felt more calm. The noise of the sharpener tends to drown out the kids talking and I can just smile and nod for awhile. Perfect peace! I was feeling pretty zen ….until the pencil sharpener over heated and died a tragic death on pencil ✏️ #14!
Am I the only one that needs some zone out time?! #askingforafriend
So with dead 💀 sharpener in hand I gave it the old sendoff. To the trash my faithful zen master.
The fence in the picture you see above is a work in progress. My husband has wanted pipe fencing for nearly ten years on the HK Bar. He has saved his money, traded scrap, traded labor, and a whole list of other back breaking tasks in order to accomplish his goal. I’ll tell you I really do admire him on big projects like this. He makes it happen. While I am left biting my nails and wondering where the money will come from, he just figures it out! I am a creature not designed like him. I am a what I call a “money in the bank” type and he is the “hardworking dreamer” .
A loose definition of those labels in my mind are as such. Money in the bank people save a gob of money and THEN and only then do they set out to do a big job. Hardworking Dreamers do just that, they dream up what they want and then they just do it! They work their butts off in the process but they make it happen .
I guess opposites do attract. 💕❤️
So JoJo and I have kicked off our fall riding routine. We call it #operationfatunicorn , but just between us of course, because well, you just dont call someone else’s unicorn fat…even if it is true.
Our five mile ride gives me so much time to think. I usually spend part of it talking to God. Trying to get my mind right. Today I was focusing on forgiveness. Forgiving myself, forgiving people that have hurt me, forgiving all the transgressions big and little both that all pile up on my soul.
I started out feeling angry, ungrateful, and just plain nasty. I asked God to put words of forgiveness in my heart. Something healing that I could repeat until I truly felt all the bad just melt.
As always he gave me words .
As I leaned forward in my saddle wind and mane in my face, with the sounds of Jos feet hitting the ground In quick succession I heard his words. And I let go of all that I needed to. I let it fall away as we galloped across an open field . I could just imagine the negative falling off in pieces and being carried away in the breeze. Sound a bit fantastical to you? Well, I’ll tell you, it was…. I mean I do ride a unicorn 🦄.
The HK Bar workouts have been intense lately (for me) . We added a new mare to our string . Of course she is another Double J horse from JD and Jana Dreasher out of Eskridge, Kansas. My four year old daughter is the actual owner of this nine year old mare whom is called Lucy. Owl (my four year old middle daughter) sold her calves to buy her. Lucy and her became fast partners and love each other. I’ve added her to my daily workout as well. Which consists of a thirty minute lunge and then a five mile outride. Whew!
My sweet JoJo is on the same workout. So I’m riding a minimum of ten miles a day plus an hour of lunging (another 35 of grooming). My two year old paint filly is at the trainer so will be upped to fifteen miles when she gets back . Whew! I said it has been intense!
What have you been up to in your workouts?
Real life moment:
When your four year old announces, “Mom, I’m saying this out of Gods love, for all our sanity, please go have your coffee. Then come back and try again.”
Then she turns to Boo and Bunny and says, “We all need the truth sometimes.”
And they ALL THREE NOD IN AGREEMENT!
Bahahahahaha bahahahahaha a
Happy Thursday y’all! Spread truth and drink your coffee before you do the things 😂💕❤️☕️
Muck boots to squish through mud, snow, water, dust and dewy grass to take care of the eight horses, two cows, fifty chickens, four dogs, ten cats, and thirteen hogs that call the HK Bar home .
Ballet flats. A transformation happens in the barnyard nearly every morning. The muck boots come off after hours of feeding, watering, and grooming of the HK animals. The tall riding socks also come off to expose calloused and cracked feet with chipped blue nail polish. The ballet flats are slipped on, and a journey to another world ensues. The HK children must go to school. And I must have the proper shoes to take them there. As you must know a Catholic School would surely not appreciate muck boots tromping through the halls in order to deliver the three HK girls to its sanctuary.
Sure the ballet flats are lighter and much prettier to look at….But there’s something so lovely about muck boots….
The children are delivered to school, and the ballet flats are promptly traded for riding socks and muck boots.
Because you see, there is more fun to be had in the muck boots.