Muscle Memory

Seeing the world through golden ears.

When the neighbor girl wanted to learn about horses, I said yes.

Horses have always been a part of my life. My first pony, Rocky, took 8-year-old me across creeks, on trails, and under branches. Many rides ended with walks home where my pony was waiting at the barn. As a teen, horses meant horse camp, 4-H and freedom.

During my college years, I loved working from sunrise to sundown in the horse barns at a summer camp. My days were filled with caring for horses, giving lessons and leading trail rides, and on my days were spent riding horses.

After college, I met a woman who introduced me to competitive and endurance riding. We covered hundreds of miles and went where few people ever walked. During those hours in the saddle, we also became great friends and had so many laughs together.

After moving to the farm, I still kept horses, took riding lessons and learned about dressage. I love looking out the window and seeing the horses, touching their soft noses and burying my hands under their manes on cold winter days.

But, until recently, I hadn't ridden a horse for two years.

As life got busy, and I took up herding with the Border collies, I spent less and less time in the saddle, and then, none at all. 

If I was going to give lessons, I'd have to get on my horse. So, I tacked up Lily, led her to the mounting block and got on. My legs settled into position; my feet found the stirrups; and fingers held the reins. With a little exhale of breath, Lily stepped into a walk. And, thanks to two years of practicing yoga, I felt stronger, more in balance and straighter than I ever had.

While I haven't ridden much in the past several years, I've spent hundreds of hours in the saddle with Lily, and muscle memory takes over. I use my legs and seat aids as we practice circles and leg yields. And, she responds, as if it's been two days instead of two years since I last rode.

When I dismount, my hand reaches into my pocket for her treat, which she takes as I rub her blaze and run my fingers over her soft muzzle. 

While Others Buy Bread and Milk...

The weather forecast predicted single digit temperatures, up to 10 inches of snow and 45 mph wind gusts later in the day.

So, I took an extra long dog walk in the morning. The dogs didn't seem to mind the freezing rain and ice pellets piling up on their backs.

Emma was too busy hunting rabbits to notice the freezing rain.

Caeli, now 13+ years old, loves the daily walks.

Jack says working sheep would be more fun.

If the weather forecast is correct, they'll be spending a few days hanging out in the house.

I let the horses out into the pasture. The Haflingers are designed for the cold, and only come to the barn for feeding.

Emma and I then drove the sheep out to the hay feeders in the pasture.

I then went to work preparing for the storm. I moved hay feeders under the barn's overhang and set up a wind block for the sheep.

I brought in armload after armload of firewood.

And, then I grabbed a book and made popcorn.

Who eats break and milk during a snowstorm?

The One New Year's Day Regret

I spend part of New Year's Day doing activities that I'd like to do throughout the year. Lucky for me, the sun came out and the temperatures climbed to the 40s, so I could spend hours outdoors.

 Pictured from left are Tag, Raven, Niki, Jack and Caeli. This was taken right before I released them so they could run in the fields.

I started the day like I do most, with the dog walk. But on this day, because the sun was shining and because I had time, I extended the walk to the far hay field and lingered as the Border collies hunted for mice, rolled in the grass and chased each other.

I followed that up with several rounds of herding training--a treat when the weather is warm, the ground is soft, but not muddy.

I took time to admire the horses, soaking in the afternoon sunshine.

Lily, like always, is front and center. Jet is behind her.

Noticing their bushy bridle paths, I took them in the barn for hair cuts, grooming and lots of peppermint treats. Is there anything more soothing than listening to the barn radio and the swish of scissors while standing over a horse? 

And, while being lulled by the horses, I made my New Year's Day mistake.

I addressed the chicken issue.

For months now, I've been squabbling with the hens who insist on sleeping in the horse barn, rather than the chicken coop. Carrying hens from the horse barn to the chicken coop has become a nightly chore.

I decided to put a stop to that and move them to the other chicken house, the chicken house that has a fenced yard and no direct access to the sheep and horse barn.

I spent New Year's Day preparing the chicken's new home. I cleaned it out, spread fresh straw on the floor and stapled plastic over an opening to cut down on drafts. That evening, I carried 2 roosters and 16 hens to their new home.

This morning, they roamed their new yard and gobbled up butternut squash seeds and apple cores.

They seemed happy, they seemed content.I was happy, I was content.

But as dusk approached, one hen flew over the fence and into the yard. Another flew over the fence and marched to the horse barn.

And so this evening, I did what I'd done on New Year's Day: I moved a chicken from the horse barn to the chicken coop.

A Clean Barn in January

During the winter months, only the necessary barn chores get done. Daylight is in short supply, and cold weather is not.

Chore time is spent breaking ice from buckets, carrying hay, thawing latches, taking off and putting on my gloves.

Manure piles up.

Cobwebs grow and multiply.

Baling twine hangs like tinsel from stall doors, hay bales, hooks.

Loose hay covers the ground.

The barn counter becomes littered with my trusty hair dryer, pens and notes, gloves, dust, ear tags, chicken leg bands, dog leashes, broken latches, fences handles and other things the soil has heaved up during its freeze and thaw cycles.

But this weekend, temperatures climbed into the 60's, and I headed to the barn to clean.

I knocked down cobwebs, put away buckets, cleaned off the counter, raked up loose hay and hauled away wheelbarrows full of manure.

The barn looks orderly. It looks presentable.

Maybe, just maybe, it can stay this way for lambing season, I think.

And then I glance at the calendar.

Lambing season is six weeks away.

I study the weather forecast.

The cold weather returns this week.

So I settle for sitting on the mounting block, listening to the horses munch hay, and admiring a moment of barn orderliness.

The Great Spring Shed

My arms and shoulders are sore this morning.

Yesterday, temperatures reached into the 60s, and I went to the barn and groomed the horses.

I usually trim bridle paths, legs and tails in late February.

But snow was on the ground and temperatures were still dipping into the single digits. They needed that hair.

Last evening, as the birds sang and the sky was pink in the east and orange in the west, I curried and curried, loosening and removing winter coat.

I cut fistfuls of hair from their manes, tufts from their ears, long cheek hairs, and the five-inch feathers from Lily's legs. And, I picked at their chestnuts and ergots.

 When Lily nuzzled my pockets, looking for her peppermint treats, I laughed.

I'm not riding much these days, as I spend more time with work and Border collies.

"Why do you do all the work of caring for the horses without getting the pleasure of riding?" some ask.

They do not understand that riding is just a bit of the joy of horses.

Shedding Time

Ask people to give words for spring, and you'll likely hear:
Rain
Warm breezes
Daffodils
Green Grass
Bird Song

You seldom hear:
Hair.

But yesterday, on that perfect warm, sunny spring day, I focused on the spring shed.

Starting with the Haflingers, I curried clumps of hair from face, legs, body, rump. I spent extra time on Lily's neck, underneath her thick mane. The winter hair there was long gone, but she enjoys a good rub and thanks me with an outstretched neck and quivering lip.

Next, I worked on the three Border collies. And, after removing mats, untangling hair, pulling out winter hair, I was thankful the fourth Border collie has a short, smooth coat.

But I was most thankful for the sheep, who take care of their own hair removal -- with the help of a fence.

Candy Hay

I'm feeding fourth cutting alfalfa that smells like sunshine and the warm October day that it was baled. It's leafy and green and makes me momentarily forget the weeks of frozen water buckets.

I usually reserve the rich third and fourth cutting alfalfa hay for the nursing ewes, but weeks of sub-freezing temperatures have meant the sheep need extra calories.

Sheep eat like children, picking out the best morsels of food first, leaving the least desirable pieces behind. When given first cutting hay, they root through and find the alfalfa first, then the tender dried grass. Later, if still hungry, they might eat the tougher pieces -- unless they have walked on it, and then it goes to waste.

Not so with fourth cutting alfalfa hay.

The spouse calls it candy hay.

I sometimes wonder if it melts in their mouths. For an hour after I feed, it is gone. There are no pieces or morsels next to the feeders.

And the sheep are always crying for more, more.

Yesterday, I was feeling generous and gave Jet, the Haflinger, a half flake of the alfalfa hay. I tossed it next to the feed pan, filled with grain.

She left the grain to eat the hay.

Maybe it reminds her, too, of sunshine and warm fall days, and hope for the tender green shoots of spring grass.

Haflingers and Snow

The Haflingers are reveling in a cold and snowy January.

Their ancestors came from the mountains of Austria and endured many a snowy winter. With heavy bodies and coats, these mares are equipped for the cold.

Except for feeding time, I don't keep them in stalls. Oh, they can stand in the stalls, but often I find them, butts to the wind, standing in the pastures.

When it snows, they wear a blanket of white. Jet thinks it looks good on her.

Lily was too busy digging through the snow for grass to notice it was snowing.

She says it's the best winter ever because she gets five flakes of hay daily instead of four.

It'd be even better if the camera was a treat.

They say living is easy in the winter months. It's so much better than the hot, humid and buggy days of July.

Surviving the Deep Freeze

The temperature was stuck at -6 degrees and the winds blew at 20 mph, sometimes faster, and the Haflingers didn't care.

The sun was shining; they'd eaten breakfast; it was time for their midday snooze in the sun. Butts facing the wind, and using the pine trees as a windbreak, they stood side-by-side and dozed.

Temperatures in our area plummeted to below zero overnight Sunday, and stayed below zero Monday and Monday night. Today, it's supposed to warm up to 2 degrees. The winds are expected to gust again today, eventually settling down to a more reasonable 10 mph on Wednesday.

Most of the farm's critters didn't get the memo that it's cold outside.

The sheep, closed inside the barn, are quite happy to be eating the third-cutting alfalfa hay rather than the first-cutting alfalfa mix. And the chickens are inside their hen house, eating grain, and a little bored.

The Border collies are running laps around the house, and anxiously awaiting their long daily walk.

The only critters showing the pains of the cold are Mickey, the old Border collie, and Leslie, the older barn cat. Mickey gets cold paws after about 10 minutes outside in subzero weather.

Leslie the Cat lives in the hay and equipment barn, and must make a daily trek to the back porch or livestock barn for food and water. Yesterday, she was more than happy to come into the mudroom to eat, drink and warm up. But this morning, she is already growing restless with being indoors. This afternoon, when it reaches above zero, I'll let her outside again.

As for me, I'm staying warm carrying buckets of warm water from the house to the barn. But I, too, am looking forward to long walks around the fields again.

Preparing for the Storm

I'm not worried about preparing for this:

ACCUMULATIONS...SNOW ACCUMULATION OF 6 TO 10 INCHES.

But, it's the rest of the weather forecast that has me worried:

WEST WINDS 15 TO 25 MPH WITH GUSTS UP TO 35 MPH

TEMPERATURES WILL DROP TO 12 TO 18 BELOW MONDAY NIGHT.

WIND CHILL READINGS WILL BE 10 TO 25 BELOW MONDAY MORNING AND THEN FALL TO TO 35 TO 50 BELOW MONDAY NIGHT AND TUESDAY MORNING.

I haven't experienced temperatures this low since we've lived on the farm.

The sheep, horses, llama and chickens usually handle winter just fine if they have shelter, food and water.

I usually don't keep the sheep, chickens or horses confined during the winter months. Animals -- like humans -- are happier if they have room to move around.

On most nights, the sheep sleep outside, under the lean-to. Only when the north wind blows do they decide to come into the barn.

Unless it's feeding time, the Haflingers usually choose to stay outside. They don't seem to mind being covered in snow and icicles.

When the wind blows, the chickens usually go inside. For a few hours each day though, they, too, like to venture outside in the snow.

But when the winds start blowing tonight, I'll move the sheep inside the barn. I'll close up the chicken house so the chickens too will be confined. As for the horses, I'll continue to let them come and go into their stalls.

The sheep, llama and horses will get extra hay -- they'll need the extra calories to stay warm, and I'm hoping it will keep them busy so they don't go too stir-crazy. I'll be kept busy making sure they have fresh water throughout the storm.

I'll bring the old barn cat inside tonight and offer her a place in the basement.

As for the Border collies -- we're taking a long walk today. I'm hoping they won't go too stir-crazy during the storm... But I have bully sticks for them to chew just in case.

The Great Shed Begins

I'm not sure who welcomes the late winter grooming more -- the horses or me.

The Haflingers are beginning the spring shed. Over the next few months they will lose the winter coats that protected them from the ice, snow and wind.

Today, I ran the curry comb in circles on their faces, legs, neck, bellies, backs and rumps. The horses sighed and lip-trembled in appreciation as dust and three-inch strands of hair loosened their hold on their winter coats.

When finished, I had a few handfuls of hairs and horses that still looked like yaks. I was dusty, hair-covered and reminded of my arm muscles.

Yet, I was happy to begin this rite of spring.

PHOTO: The photo was taken of Jet and Lily last year on one of those rare late winter days when the sun was shining. I love it because it captures the joy of sunshine and the promise of spring on a late February day.

Built for the weather, not the wind

When the snow and wind gusts hit, the sheep parked themselves in the barn area and refused to venture to the pasture where the almost-spring grass awaited.

The Haflinger horses, though, cantered to the hay field and grazed while the wind gusted.

I pondered the scene.

Both the sheep and horses are built to handle cold. The Katahdin sheep were developed in Maine, while the Haflingers originated in the mountains of northern Italy and Austria.

All animals are in good flesh -- a polite way of saying they're carrying a protective layer of fat.

When the winds died down and the temperatures remained in the teens, the sheep moseyed to the pasture and I had my answer to what was keeping the sheep at the barn. It was the gusting wind.

Sheep have little defenses against predators. They're not particularly fast, so they can't outrun a coyote or dog. While flight is out, their fight defenses aren't that great either.

When sheep graze, they are always listening and watching for danger. Wind, though, hinders this. So, when the wind blows, the sheep opt for safety.

My little piggy Haflingers, though, are confident in their ability to run from danger. So they turn their butts to the wind and graze, graze, graze.