Tastefull Picked -3

Theme: Inspiration

Which is your favorite?

Absent...

Yes,
I realize I have been absent on and off for a while. Most of my posts since the new year have nothing to do with horses.

So a quick update.

I've been looking for a Wintec Pro Saddle for Sharlie. Not sure what size ... anything, but we will find something soon I hope.

Started working on goals. I need some for this year. They are based on auditions this year, rather than just specific tasks.
I would like to audition Casper for Level 1 in the spring, as well as Sharlie for Level 2 in the summer...
How I will find 120 dollars to spare evades me.

Lessons wise, I am making sure both horses are continuing to be polite while also advancing through Level One. I plan to write a post about how Casper has flourished as a lessons horse- the right way.

Hmmmm...how are you?

- Julia

Tastefully Picked - 2

Tastefully Picked- 1

I spend more time than I like to admit going through photos and pictures online- whether it be crude or perverted humor (we all have our guilty pleasures) or just a photo that catches the eye. I'm going to start doing these now and then because God knows I have a whole collection saved on my computer!

Theme today: Horses

Why don't you tell me which one is YOUR favorite out of these?

One of my utmost favorites

Metallic Moon Sample

Copyright @ Julia Debski 2012

The howl of a faraway wolf calling its comrades for a hunt echoed through the dark woods. The horses snorted anxiously as they pranced in place before the crack of the whip over their heads sent them forward.

The silver orb perched in the sky supplied barely enough light for the girl in the dim carriage to see out the dirty glass pane. She could only make out the shadows of the trees that bordered the tiny road that cut through the forest. She shivered again as another gust of wind rocked the frail carriage. Pulling her cloak around herself tightly, she turned to look at her father's sleeping figure. The gloomy light reflected slightly off his bald head. It was all that could be seen of the short round man wrapped in a worn out blanket.

Claire had always appreciated her sensitive ears until tonight. At the snap of a twig just  beyond the carriage, Claire turned her head to face the haunted forest once again. She leaned closer to her window to see the driver glancing toward the trees nervously. His knuckles were white as he gripped the reins.

"Yah!" he cried suddenly before flicking the whip repeatedly. The horses broke into a gallop, panicked by the continuous cracks and yells that rang out through the air.

Claire knew why they were running. They were trying to escape something. She glanced at her father as she reached to grip the seat as the carriage bounced into the air after hitting a large bump. He did not wake, instead he simply shifted his position and licked his lips. She wished for a brief moment that she too could sleep so deeply.

Returning her eyes to the world outside, an uneasy cold sensation crept through Claire gradually, as if building suspense, and she realized that whatever they were trying to run away from was keeping up with the wagon easily as it traveled beside them under the cover of the trees. It was right there, just beyond the moon beams. Something terrifying enough to have the driver whispering his final prayer. The moon disappeared behind the clouds, plunging everything into blinding darkness. The carriage slowed to a stop. The tension in the air was thick enough to suffocate on.

Yet Claire was not afraid.

Suddenly the carriage shook and a girlish scream was to be heard before being cut off by a dreadful gurgling sound. Finally her father woke.

"Claire sweetheart? Is everything alri--" The carriage door beside him was suddenly flung open and a pair of gold eyes glinted, even though there was no light. Everything was completely still until a low growl traveled through the small space.

Wolves.

No, Claire thought. Wolves would not know how to open a carriage door.

Werewolves.

The words were indeed much more ominous. The hairs on her arms and back of her neck rose to attention. Everyone knew about the werewolves.

There were many small packs that were friendly and kind, usually taking part in village life like humans.

Unfortunately there was only one werewolf pack in this area of Great Britain and it was said to be far from the welcoming type. The Saxon Pack was the fastest growing and most powerful pack in all of Europe. Possibly the world even. It was also infamous for kidnapping, raping and killing in order to achieve that status.

Goals Aren't Just for Horses

I have realized that goals are not just for horses.

They can be for writing too.

So I have develloped a timeline for my novels so I can try and keep to is as a timeline of goals.

Current Novel I'm working on:
Cinderella Wolf (CW)

Novels in Progress but On Hold:
His Red Motorbike (HRM)
Ellipsis Blue (EB)
The Light (L)
The Cat Journal (MEOW)

Future Novels:
Metallic Moon (MM)
NaNoWriMo novel (??)

Here is a general idea of this year:

January: Continue CW
February: Continue CW
March: Continue CW
April: Continue CW
May: Finish CW, Finish HRM
[ My 2 Summer Projects: Ellipsis Blue & Metallic Moon] 
June: Continue Ellipsis Blue, Start Metallic Moon
July: Continue Ellipsis Blue, Continue Metallic Moon
August: Continue EB, Continue MM
September: Finish EB, Finish MM
October: Editing/ submitting
November: Pick a novel for NaNoWriMo
December: Continue NaNoWriMo book

Its a tight schedule but I think if I really commit, then I can get it done.
The real challenge will be juggling EB and MM in the summer, but with no school I can see myself managing. I want to challenge myself.

Also I realize that The Light and The Cat Journal are not included in the schedule. I'm sure I will find time for them in there somewhere, if I finish something early. The Light may become my NaNoWriMo book, even though I've already started.

That was my bit. I'm going to post a sample of MM tomorrow. >:)

Cheers,
Julia

When asked why my horses are so special to me, I said this:


My horses aren't just horses. They are my angels. Not religious angels, just angels. 


They are always there when I need them, no matter what. They make sure they make me laugh when I'm sad. They make me feel safe when I'm scared. They make me see reason when I'm unreasonable. I didn't save them. They saved me and they still save me every day. I couldn't imagine my life without either one of them. 


Sharlie is my joker, my sweetheart. She makes me smile and laugh, and even though we argue I know that she still loves me and she knows I still love her.


 Casper is my saviour. He always pulls me out when I'm in a dark place. I am convinced he was a pegasus in his previous life. He is truly my soulmate in horse form. I've never felt so close to a horse as I have with Casper. Of course Sharlie and Casper are special to me.


 Wouldn't your guardian angels be special to you?

To Be Forgiven

   A few years ago, over the summer I attempted to join up with Casper (who at the time was Little Britches) in an attempt to prove my worthiness and to try and reach out the the conservative pony. There was very little progress in either way. He would go on, around and around, for almost an hour before finally giving some signals of wanting to stop. Even the best he would do was just stop and look at my turned back. He would not...or perhaps could not... come in and meet me in the middle.

   After a time I learned more and more about Casper's horsenality and just more about Natural Horsemanship in general. I realized that by attempting to join up with him I had made a mistake. I began hating myself for what I did. The experience with joining up in the round pen had only added to Casper's fear and resentment of the round pen.

   Another thing on the lists which he didn't understand what was wanted of him.

   One of my 'things' with Casper is forgiveness. I hope and work toward Casper forgiving me for the sins done by myself and others before me.

   Casper forgiving me for that terrible summer was on the list.

   Recently Mom was encouraging me to try again. Finally, on Saturday, I decided I would try. I had to admit our relationship wwas much stronger than before and he was practically a different horse now compared to before.

   So I gave it a try. At first he panicked. So I took off a lot of the pressure, asking him to just stay in the trot. After several laps I began to worry that it had been a mistake. He was still tense, panicky. Maybe I should just quit before the damage is too severe.

   That was when he began to relax and settle into a slow trot. He didn't lower his head or chew the air, but he had his ear fixed on me and he blew out severa times.

   I turned away from him and listened carefully to the slowing of hooves. Then there was silence. He wasn't walking. He wasn't eating. He was just standing there, on the edge again.

   "He is looking at you." Mom whispered.

   So that is it I thought in despair. A horse who can't join me in the middle. Not that I didn't love him any less. If anything, I loved him more. He was about to add another question to the list of mysteries titled "Casper's Questions."


   I was about to turn to reward him for trying when I heard the quiet thudding of hooves on dirt approaching. I stayed perfectly still. Barely even breathing.


   Then he nudged my shoulder. I turned and hugged him affectionately. I almost cried I was so happy.


   I could see in his eyes that he had forgiven me. If he had even needed to forgive me in the first place. More importantly, I forgave myself.

Conyers Countdown begins TODAY!!!

Conyers Countdown begins TODAY! Just over 30 days to go!!!!!!

Light as a Feather & Troubles of the Bit

Feather Line: I love you!


You know when something new things come out and you are sure it is a complete and utter waste of money and you don't need it, and then you are usually proved wrong?


That was my attitude towards the Feather Line when it first came out. I saw Pete Rodda play with his horse at the Summit a couple years ago and my first impression was it was for extremely advanced levels.


I grudgingly tried a Feather Line for the first time at camp with Kara in the summer of  2011. The first impression was everything.


It was a revelation. An epiphany.


You almost never realize you are doing something wrong until someone points it out to you. The Feather Line was that 'someone.' I never realized just how 'loud' I was being when I played with Sharlie and Casper. With the help of that line, I made some pretty amazing progress on myself during the duration of camp.


[Look for the "Back To The Herd" camp blog posts in June 2011 to read more.]


Since camp I have been begging, bargaining and saving to buy a pair of Feather lines. I planned to buy someat Conyers at the end of February but thank you SANTA CLAUS I got a pair for Christmas!


Quick, find some clips that are strong enough to endure a run-away horse! We don't have any? Well I'll just use these instead!


Wait for the rain to stop! Waiting for the rain to stop...3 days later...
Alright Sharlie, let's see what you got!


She flew on that line. She danced. There weas a few ugly expressions when I asked something wrong, or if I asked too strongly, or if I just asked too much. We played for about half an hour which is about when she realized I had no treats.


That ended pretty quickly. *laughs*

NOW onto troubles of the BIT! (Focusing on Casper)


As all of you know- or most of you at least- Casper and I have been going through the very slow but very educational process of starting. It has been an interesting journey so far and we have recently reached another wall to break through (One of several)


Riding with a  bridle


This, of course, isn't an immediate concern. But it was an important beginning of a step to share.


The other day I rode Casper in a bridle for the first time since he had been with me. I was usnure how I would react, let alone how he would react!
He was tese. (DUH). He tried to eat a couple times but after I corrected him he stopped. His walk was fast and choppy for the most part, until the last minute or so of our ride. He calmed down, so stupid me, asked him to trot instead of rewarding him by getting off.


He shot forward and I tensed before trying to pull him to a stop. It didn't work and he just went faster attempting to dislodge me more. I panicked and thought "This is how I die. Death by trot."


Luckily there was a fence post in front of us so I just aimed him for that and he stopped.


I immediadtly jumped off and just walked him around to calm him down. When we had both recovered from the shock, we went back to the field.

Fun little experience, no?


That tis all for now!


Julia

Horse Poem

Why do I like horses?

 I think I must be mad. 

My mother wasn’t horsey - and neither was my dad. 

But the madness hit me early - and hit me like a curse.

 And I’ve never got much better. In fact, I’ve just got worse.


 My stables are immaculate. My house is like a hovel. 


Last year for my birthday - I got a brand-new shovel.
 
I hardly read a paper - but I know who’s sold their horse.

And I wouldn’t watch the news - unless Mr Ed was on, of course. 

One eye’s always on the heavens - but washing waves in vain. 

As I rush to get the horses in - in case it’s going to rain. 

And though they’re wearing 15 rugs, the best that you can get, 

I bring them in to keep them dry - while I get soaking wet. 

I spend every pound I’ve got- on horsey stuff for sure.
 
I buy saddles, bridles, fancy rugs - and then I buy some more.
 
I should have had my hair cut - or bought that nice blue shirt,
 
At least it wouldn’t now look ripped and showing up the dirt. 

I can’t make the books balance - so I don’t even try. 

But I can back up a car and trailer in the twinkling of an eye.
 
It’s jeans and joddy boots that I live in night and day.
 
And that smell of sweaty horses just doesn’t wash away. 

Once every now and then I dress up for a ball,
 
With make-up and posh hairdo- and high-heel shoes and all.

I ache from long-forgotten falls. My knees have got no skin.
 
My toes have gone a funny shape from being squashed again.

But late at night, when all is still- and I’ve gone to give them hay, 

I touch their velvet softness and my worries float away.
 
They give a gentle nicker and they nuzzle through my hair.
 


And I know where my heart is - more here than anywhere.