Something From Another Life...

i don't normally cross my blog audiences, but this time I will make an exception. For those who don't know, I volunteer at Blue Skies Riding Academy, a 501c(3) non-profit horse rescue and retraining facility. I posted this on my rescue blog "Vincent and the Big Adventure."   I apologize for an inconvenience this may present. My regularly scheduled snark will continue next week.



Yesterday was the Blue Skies Riding Academy's 2nd Annual Fall Festival. We had a bounce house, games, pony rides, the fire department came out, and concessions were fabulous. It was a great day and lots of fun. While the event was fun for everyone, the meaning behind not so pretty. Winter is coming, it's time to prepare for the lean months.

When you work with rescued animals, the need to raise funds is constant. As long as the economic climate in this country remains volatile, the volume of animals needing help will continue to grow. With each save, the need for money to feed these innocent bystanders grows. Whether assisting cats, dogs, or horses the people and groups working with these fringe survivors are heroes. We see things which would appall most people.

BSRA saves horses. We bring them to a place of love, we feed them and heal their physical wounds. Once they are well on the way to recovery, the instructors and volunteers begin identifying their previous training. Interesting isn't it, we have these animals, who have come from many different backgrounds, and we only know what we can learn from watching and riding them. Some have little to no training, like Daisy. Others we know were racehorses, such as Oakley (Chilean Princess) and with a few there is only silence. A black void where only our imaginations dare to venture.

Once we know each animal's training, we build on that to restore their jobs to them. Horses need their jobs, it is their part of the unspoken contract between man and beast. We provide the food, shelter, protection and the animals help plow our fields, carry us to market or to war, provide a friend to listen when only a strong silent type will do. We build relationships with them and they with us. Part of that relationship is to swear they will never end up hungry and scared again.

Drought has caused the prices of hay to rise dramatically. The grains which go into commercial feed have risen as well. With the economic putting the squeeze on everyone, rescues are relying more and more on donations to keep rounds bales in the pastures and feed in the buckets. Forgetting reseeding pastures for spring; if it is between buying seed or buying grain, you buy what grain you can and seed when there is extra.

I don't usually use my blog to solicit funds, but harsh times call for new measures. Rescues need help, regardless of what area of the country you live in. $7.00 purchases one square bale of hay, $50.00 one round bale. We have 25 horses, and go through 100 square bales a month. There are 6 active pastures, that means 12 to 18 round bales per month. That does not include grain, supplements, farrier visits, vet trips or chiropractic. Sometimes it gets a little overwhelming.

So, as we enter into fall, knowing the holiday seasons will soon be upon us, how about sharing a little love for your local rescue? When you go shopping, add an extra bag of dog or cat food for the county animal shelter. $14 can feed our herd of horses with hay for one day; $20 would include hay and grain for one day. But any amount is needed. If you live in other parts of this great nation, look around. There is a struggling rescue in your area, working tirelessly to save the innocent from man's neglect and abuse. If you don't have money to give, volunteer! Just coming around these animals will restore your inner strength, your faith that we have a greater purpose on this planet.

If you would like to contribute to Blue Skies, there is a pay pal button on our website: www.blueskiesridingacademy.com. And stop by sometime - identify yourself as a patron, and come meet the magnificent beasts who owe you their thanks. It will change your life.

Wait..What..Not Again!

As June progressed, I finally got all the turnip greens out of my garden, and it seemed things were well on their way to a fabulous summer. I peeled and chopped and canned zucchini and summer squash while dreams of mountains of beans, rivers of sweet peas and bushels of tomatoes danced him my head. Once again, Mother Nature had other plans.

That's right - we have another drought on our hands. Just as my corn was tasseling and the bean pods were plumping, the rains went away. For more than three weeks, not a drop fell from the heavens. When the grass starts crunching under your feet, then you know it's dry out there.

So, I harvested my cucumbers (apparently they like it hot!), and squash and monitored the damages. Both my helpful hubby and my father-in-law pronounced my garden dead on more than one occasion, only to see me harvest baskets of potential pickles. My corn popped inside the husks but the beans popped out in full force, leading to a basket so full I had to have my son carry it to the house.

At last I relented and pronounced the harvest done. Some seeds were extra prolific (Squash of all kinds, cucumbers, pole beans) while others never ever popped through (carrots, peppers, peas). But for what did come up I reaped gold.

My final tally for the first Reece garden is: 20 quarts of beans, 15 pints of pickles and pickle relish, 5 quarts of summer squash and onions, 10 pints of lemon honey jelly, 8 pints of zucchini pickles, and 3 quarts of pickled butternut squash. All in all not a bad haul.

The tomatoes came in slow and never in any great quantities, so I just shared them with friends and co-workers. We got 5 full grown pumpkins, which were ready by the end of July. I am saving mine for Halloween. The biggest failure was no watermelons. I love watermelon in the summer. This year I had to resort to grocery store melon. Boo.

I gathered seeds from all the produce that I could and I intend to try again next year. No winter garden, I'm not ready to fight another battle against turnip greens. No, we are going to plow, rake, plow, rake, and hope for cleaner dirt next spring. I had a lot of fun, recalled a lot of good times with my father, and I wouldn't trade a callous or twinge in my carpal tunnel for anything else. Good times from the simplest thing - a new memory to join the many from childhood.

Thanks for listening to my summer saga. It might not sound like all that much fun, but trust me. It was a blast.

Black and White and Shades of Grey

All my life I have been taught there are only two sides to every confrontation: black or white. My father did not consider the shade of grey as an answer. Dad considered grey as the color for those unable to stick with a position. Everything was wrong or right. However, with the disappearance of the core family unit and the values our ancestors used to pass down to each new generation, black and white have left the building leaving an entire rainbow of color answers.

Black = wrong, White = right, Grey = possible to be right or wrong only if no one get offended.

What other personal responsibilities formally taught to us by our families have we neglected to pass on to the next generation? Manners, correct enunciation, personal accountability all have gone the way of the flightless dodo bird, extinct due to lack of interest in their continuation.

What other little expected behaviors we all grew up with have suddenly disappeared? Chewing with one's mouth closed, wearing appropriate clothing for the event and location, and cutting in front of people in line are the first few that come to mind but I'm sure, given time, we all could come up with dozens. But what began this major shift in attitudes? Do we attribute this to the hippies back in the 60's? Or did it come sooner - as more families began chasing the all mighty dollar instead of growing their children.

I have two children in two different times of their lives, but they have been taught the consequences of their actions since they were old enough to talk back. I know they will tell me the truth, whether I am ready for it or not. They accept their punishments for their misdeeds and strive to learn from their mistakes.

I can think of thousands of prisoners who could learn something about personal responsibility.