In Iceland, they usually take horses out in groups. They move them and ride them in large numbers. The horses like it this way because they are then a part of the herd. I was reminded of this, this afternoon. We headed up the bench with me riding Raudi, and Pete riding Siggi and ponying Signy. Little Hrimmi followed along, untethered. Dang, I thought, I now own a herd!
Hrimmi began grazing by the side of the roadway. Raudi and I went back and fell in behind her, with the big horse giving the small horse several gentle nudges with her nose. As we trotted up road, it occurred to me that Raudi would enjoy having a foal of her own. It also occurred to me that Hrimmi is now considered to be one of the herd, subject to the rules of the other horses. When they rest, she rests. When they eat, she eats. And when they move, she moves. It’s just too bad that right now there are no other foals for her to play with.
On the way up the bench Hrimmi bolting up trail. Thumpa, thumpa, thumpa – Raudi, startled, took off and charged uphill. She then stopped, mystified as to why she suddenly had no more get up and go. On the way down, Raudi lead the way, moving along in a calm, well-mannered fashion. This is way different than even a year ago. It took eight years, but I’m finally riding the riding horse of my dreams.
On the return trip, we saw our friend Keith pulling out of our driveway, coming in our direction. He had the solstice party with him, four friends from Florida. I gave them, a mother, a 13-year old daughter, a father, and a friend of theirs, the full-fledged tour.
We went up to the upper cabin, and checked it out, and then stood on the porch and looked at our place from above. I was, as I pointed to the beehives, struck by the fact that in giving such tours, I see our place from others’ perspective. I try to describe what it was like – our arrival in 2003 -- this place, overgrown with weeds and garbage strewn. Words never do its former incarnation justice. It’s now an interesting, and somewhat eclectic place. At the same time, it’s the near end result of considerable work. I honestly don’t know if I would be able to walk away from it all. I hope I never find out. And I hope that the Usibelli Coal Mine people are aware of how I and others who live in this area feel.
It was an outrageously good little party. I felt good that we didn’t let Christopher down. He so badly wanted to come here and have a good time on the Solstice. He had previously told me that he’d heard that the solstice was special.
It’s been great having him here. I’m sure that there are many other places he’d like to visit. But he came here. So Pete and I have both been attempting to show him a good time. One of the things that I try to do when anyone visits, either for a short while, or for the long term, is to act as if they and what they have to say is the most important thing in the whole world. Remove the word act and have a statement that’s reflective of how I feel about Christopher. He’s one of the most important people in the world, and for this reason merits my full and undivided attention. Sad to say, he’s loved by many, many people who live elsewhere.
The solstice is actually the time of year when I fully believe that anything and all things are possible. Yesterday evening I gave my friend Heather an assist with her horse Rio. She’s owned him for eight years, and has worked very hard training him. This shows. Rio is energetic, but has exceedingly good manners. Heather’s now riding him, but because of their checkered past history, she lacks confidence. So she asked me to help her out. I’m happy to report that both horse and rider did very well.
So, this got me thinking – I would like to get some instruction on teaching riding. I’d be very interested in working with a select few people. And Pete’s mentioned that home schoolers might be interested in learning about horses and how to ride.
And thinking further – I have it all here. All being five horses at varying levels of ability and age. I can use them in working with people. We shall see. Follow through. I am going to act on this.
Follow Through – compost is cooking – it’s really hot. Going to be good stuff.
Tomorrow? The darkness will again start closing in. It will be imperceptible at first, but more so later on. This winter I may embrace the darkness and actually get stuff done. Right now I’m just tripping the light fantastic.
Hay season is just around the corner. All who sell and feed the stuff have their fingers tightly crossed. We badly need the good weather to continue.
Next: 196. 06/22/12: Departure