Happy New Year

And, Good Evenin'

Well, a quiet evenin', 'cept for the stirrin' a the horses. The Queen missy mum, figured out my fence, two strands of electric rope, keep 'em away from the neighbors horse, to the south, don't have no juice and he's a pleasant fella. We all like ta be appreciated, I suppose, and where he's only got two goats fer company, he's kinda vulnerable to her charms and not bad lookin', himself. Long story short, I had to close the gate; the whole bunch gets down there and sparks'll fly. Tubby, much as he pretends to ignore her, is pretty partial to Queeny, himself and is like to have a word with that pony and someone'll get tore up. So, they can't go up the hill to the cliffs, which I suspect hold a little sunshine into the night, where they warm there buns. There makin' the best of it, here by the tent, but not used to gettin' comfortable, in close for the night.

Anyway, man~ana, maybe I can beef up that stretch and they can go back to their boudoir for the evenin's and we'll all sleep peaceful.

So, another huntin' season bites the dust and I reckin' the elk are dern pleased for that. The days are inchin' longer and 'fore ya know it, we'll be warmin' up. Already had a meltin' breeze, past few days, but I don't figure winter's quite ready give up without a word or two.

Sure, wish y'all the best for 2012 and God willin', we'll all turn a new leaf, make a stand for the better, each in our own way.

Have a great night and a very happy new year!

Best,

The Present

Good Evenin',

Another fine, spring day. A meltin' breeze outta the south, sunny and 50 degrees. Never did make it to the tradin' post; neighbor come by with some christmas cookies and wanted ta visit, then the poachers hit ma low gate. Heard a shot, close in, heard 'em comin' down the hill, couldna been three minutes for I broke outta the woods, 'tween here and there, they'd already cut the chain and gone. Shouldn't let it get to me, but it does get my back up, hard as it is, keep everybody fed and cared for out here, then here come some city folk, just tearin' things up and runnin' around like it all belongs ta them.

Anyway, now I'm like ta wait around tomorrow, keep and eye on things. I did get a good earful a that truck and I think I mighta seen it earlier. Then I better go check ma north gate they mighta got that one too. Thank goodness there's only a few more days 'till the seasons over, anyway, then things tend ta quiet down.

Otherwise, inspiration and more inspiration, even my dreams, late. Seems like everywhere I look, just reminders, like that somewhat, cutesy sayin' been goin' round; too true, nonetheless. "The past is history, the future, a mystery. This moment a gift; that's why it's called the present."

Have a nice night.

Best

Unbelievable, But True

Good Evenin'

Well, another pretty fair day! Didn't warm up quite like yesterday; a cool breeze from the south and some high clouds, but all in all, pretty pleasant. Probably oughta check the weather, see if anything's comin', scale up my wood gatherin'.

A little progress with Funny, just a half hour followin' her around askin' for this foot and that. She's such a good girl. Maybe tomorrow, I'll trim one a the other horses, so she don't get a complex, er somethin'.

Otherwise, lotsa inspiration on the wind; feelin' and seein' possibilities, I mighta always hoped for but never really believed. Funny how that works, no? Maybe ya spend yer whole life workin' on somethin', then it begins ta take shape and all of a sudden ya realize, somehow, I put my whole life inta this and never really believed it'd work. That's curious! That's really curious! And, fantastic!

Anyway, I'm bound ta figure out what I mean one a these days and I'll try again.

Have a great night.

Best,

Holy Trust

Good Evenin'

Well, another beautiful day and yup, I got my solar panels straightened out. It was corrosion; the red wire had plumb disintegrated, under the dogs bed. I lost about a foot a wire, but repositioned the panels, to where there leanin' on the roof; looks quite spiffy and might even work a little better. They only fire my little radio and one little lightbulb I took off my old truck, but it works like a charm.

Otherwise, another simple day; wood gatherin' and feedin'. But, I did make a connection with a bookkeeper which'll come in real handy, when the book gets movin' and had a real inspirin' conversation with the woman, recommended the bookkeeper. She wants to start a grass root kinda thing for preserving the culture and environment a the northwest a New Mexico; very inspirin' and timely.

Played with Funny, my rat tail appaloosa, too; just a little. She's the only one, never let me pickup her feet. She has bad eyes and I've never had her in a round pen. But we made a little progress and I keep it up, we'll getter trimmed. Mostly, they been breakin' off and stayin' pretty short, where they're movin' so regular, but it's gettin' time shape 'em up. She's so sweet, but where she don't see so well, it makes her a little nervous give up her feet. But, this is what I love about workin' with horses; trustin' don't come easy, but when it does, it's a joy to behold.

Listenin' to my Heart teacher last couple a days, talkin' 'bout trust; sayin' what a powerful thing it is. Don't know why, but I do know it's true; maybe the simple beauty of life. When trust happens, and a life shines out, wow; that's somethin'. And, more it grows, more that beauty shines, well it just gets amazin'. One a my favorite sayin's: "ya ever find trust, don't break it!" If there is somethin' like "holy", it's gotta be trust.

Have a nice night!

Best,

On Sale

Good Mornin'

Well, the mercury is missin' the sun, quite some; did make it up to almost 40 degrees yesterday and it is possible, I'm feelin' my age, but it sure was nippy this mornin'.

Otherwise, a quiet Christmas day. Thought about goin' ta see my neighbors for coffee, but my solar panels decided ta give up the ghost and I spent most a the afternoon, runnin' back and forth, outside ta in, see if I could find their complaint. I think I got figured, moisture and corrosion on a few patches I'd made, but we'll find out ta day, right or wrong.

Anyway, the ponies got an extra flake of two, and the puppies got some pretty good gravy from that goat bone I threw in the pot, the other day. And, lots a warm greetin's floatin' around the web, as well as, quite some inspiration, which is about the best Christmas present, anyone could ask for. Sometimes, just stayin' opto mystic can be a challenge, and every little drop, a friend seein' the good and promise of their life, well, that's precious stuff.

I reposted this link I'd found to a video of a Mayan Elder; really makes me smile. I'll put it in here down below. Basically, he's sayin' don't listen to these lyin' SOB's, that aren't Mayan, anyway, the end of our calendar is a good thing; it's when the wise ones return. So, be happy; it's happened before, it'll happen again, don't worry.

Just reminds me, I was thinkin' about religion, past few days. And don't get me wrong, I do have a sense and a feel, tremendous gratitude for my life and creator, but "religion", can be funny stuff. I was wonderin' about the Koran and bettin' myself I could find a lot a good there, despite what most folks say, least in the west. So, I went and read an article about it. Guess what? Just like the bible; there's some folks say, "it's the word of God" and cuss and swear about anybody tryin' to put it in an historical context and point out all the revisions and editin' by "people" across the years. By the way, "people" would be human bein's, like you and me; capable of great inspiration, also capable of misunderstandin', selective interpretation.

So, this is my consideration and we might not notice it so much in this country, surrounded as we are by abundance, but when times are hard, people might try to sell just about anything. Ya really notice this if ya ever go to a poor country; people by the side a the road, sellin' things we could never imagine, cow dung! Same way, maybe some folks aren't so good at conventional business, so it's just possible, they could come up with some inspiration and sell a story about God, that just could be and allows them to make a livin'. Doesn't mean it's true, no matter how many people they get to "buy" their product. I mean, isn't it curious how most religions are based on people and events, long ago and far away and it was all so "holy", that anybody asks a question will immediately go to hell. Did ya ever hear the story of the Emperor's New Clothes; there's gotta be a story, behind the story, 'bout goin' to hell, if ya ever ask a question. And there's the little kid, hadn't yet heard the "sales pitch", simply noticin', "wow, he ain't wearin' no clothes!". And, there's a wise man, ya 2000 years ago, but neither does time and place make him wrong, and what did he say? "Let the children come.".

Maybe, it ain't about "the sales pitch". Maybe, like a child, it's just about seein' things for what they are and appreciatin' the good, just the way it is; no sales pitch necessary.

The goodnews, same way, whoever wrote those "holy" books, was likely human and capable of misunderstandin', we are human and capable of real understandin'. It was all there then. It's all here now and always the choice is ours; genuine inspiration or hype and sales! Neither can we put our ancestors on pedestals or resign them to hell; both fracture the continuity. And, while the fracture might allow us some curious sense of freedom, it can also contribute to a terrible disease. Try cuttin' of the flow of blood to a limb.

There's a great line in one a those old stories, one a those old "wisemen", comin' to some understandin', "I am no better than my fathers!". So, why's it great? We are no worse! The inspiration of our great books of wisdom; we can have that, too. We just gotta want it, really, just like they did. And, yup, we too, are bound to understand, imperfectly, despite all our protestations; swear up and down to our children, "this is the ultimate truth!". But, maybe our children'll come a little closer; least the ones don't buy our pitch.

Have a great day.

Best,

http://m.youtube.com/watch?desktop_uri=%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DwbAvF0Qcb2o%26sns%3Dfb&sns=fb&v=wbAvF0Qcb2o&gl=US

Happy Holidays

And Good Mornin'

A beautiful sunny mornin', here middle a nowhere, northern New Mexico; a bit nippy, but beautiful. All kinda, heartfelt greetin's and expressions, floatin' around the internet.

Went out to feed the horses, in the early mornin' sun, hummin' a Christmas song. Rememberin' how horses don't talk, like us anyway, and wonderin' if we wouldn't be better off, a little more like them. Ya know, if all we could do was smile or frown. 'Stead a gettin' in fights, over names for love and feelin' good, make it a little simpler; if you were grateful and happy, a smile pretty much says it all. If you're grumpy and cranky, I don't care what you call that god, that frown a yours, pretty much let me know, I'd rather go the other way.

So, god bless the horse, and careful for the words, I ain't come across a wise man yet, boil it down, didn't encourage me and point; "thataway, happy is good!".

Have a great day!

Best,

Here Comes Spring!

Good Evenin'

Well, another quiet day, recuperatin' from my big day in the city; nearly 40 miles south, with a population of pretty near 3000! Good thing it's only once a month. But, it was kinda fun. Three of us was yakkin' away, most other folks lookin' around, kinda doubtful, afterall, they were white folks in Indian Country, middle a nowhere, ya can't be too careful. I'm bein' a little mean, but it was kinda funny. We was cussin' politicans, laughin' about the end a the world, only one more year to go, and figurin' it's a good thing, as much older and we wouldn't remember anything anyway.

Anyway, it's finally snowin' serious, mostly, but it's really been a merciful mild winter, so far. And, I found a great stash a old trees, today; the kind that been down for years and dried just so, where they're hard as coal and break about the same. Gotta be a little careful, as they can heat that stove red, I get careless.

The ponies are well, the hay's holdin' up and the dogs got a goat leg from a friend over Hen. I was talkin' to old Larry, runs the store, tellin' him it's like ta be a short winter. He asked why and I told him I couldn't afford a long one! I think that's called wishful thinkin'. Similar to my contention, that today's the first day a spring! Whatever it takes.

Have a nice night.

Best,

No Rules

Good Evenin'

Well, still chewin' on my question, but it seems like the momentum is toward the better, slightly more difficult version. I should be used ta listenin' to my heart, but sometimes it takes on such a different notion it takes a while for my mind ta let go; or me ta let go of my "logic".

Got a lift inta town ta day, get some staples for the month. A horse friend from Hen, over cross the Queen's Valley. Her and another friend of ours all had lunch, they wouldn't take no, 'cause I was broke. Anyway, we got talkin' 'bout instinct and intuition and, I was rememberin' one a my favorite considerations, when it comes to logic and reason. That bein' how logic and reason are pretty straight forward, but they can't see around corners. And time, is the biggest corner there is.

But, I'll wait a little more; anything we do's like ta wait 'till the first, now. And, as my horse mentors liked ta say, "dam few rules about life and horses; gotta take it as it comes, the day, the horse and the rider!"

Have a nice night.

Best,

Qualified

Good Evenin'

Well, I'd say that storm went right around us here. Overcast for a couple a days, but mild temps and likely, less than an inch. Pretty simple day; feedin', wood gatherin' and a little progress on another book, looks like it might come together. I kinda liked that "Rusty" story, but I think I could tell it a little better and flesh it out some.

Otherwise, chewin' on the current book situation; kinda have the option of two printers. One looks easier, the other looks better. I been thinkin' on it for a couple a days. Seems like I always do things the hard way, and I'm wonderin' if it ain't a "wired for failure" thing. But, the question here is quality and maybe it's just my contrary nature, but, I sure get some kinda satisfaction, resistin' the current and stickin' with quality; dam the torpedoes. Somehow or other, I just wonder if it doesn't color our whole experience; the difference 'tween a little sugar in our tea or lemon in our milk. It just takes a little, but what a difference.

Anyway, lotta times I go ta bed with a question and wake up feelin' like I had a good conversation with a good old friend and everything seems ta line up. Maybe, I'll put this is the "help" file. Mean time, hope you enjoy the picture of Julio; there's a fella knows what quality means!

Have a nice night.

Best,

P.S. That photo is from Brandon, Santa Fe Photography Pro, again, another "qualified" fella.

Friends

Good Evenin'

Well, another peaceful day; snowed just enough last night, half inch or so, put the muffle on everything. Fairly mild, all in all. I think the worst, did I spell that right, past to the south of us. Got a few more risidual flurries, afternoon, when the cold air come in behind it. Still think that worst looks funny; how about wurst. This is like that "sight gag" where Bud Abbot is tryin' to get the scotch tape off his finger. Every time I type worse, it looks worse. See, there it goes again! How come horse isn't pronounced hurse; no wonder people from other countries have such a hard time with english.

Anyway, it's the holiday season and though thanksgivin' is past, has passed, (here we go again!) would be a nice time to thank all my friends, now that looks wrong, how do ya spell fiend, how about frends? To thank all my frends for all their kindness along the way, helps keep me and the horses afloat, as we keep pluggin' away on the book thing, in our effort get self sufficient. Thank You! Thank You! We're all eatin' and there's wood on the fire. (And, fire in the phone; another frend paid my bill today.)

Happiest of Holidays, to One and All!

Best,

P.S. Brandon took a lot a pictures, didn't make it in the book, that's one up top. Thanks, again!

Winter Break

Good Mornin'

Well, I took a little break after completin' my Rusty Barnyard story; for a crazy old fella, keepin' track of a story like that and rememberin' enough, make it coherent, mostly, s'no small feat. Besides, winter had eased it's grip, just a hair and I took advantage, catch up with my wood gatherin' and, where we hit a couple a wrinkles in "the book" department, spent a little more time with the very kind folks, been helpin' me.

Anyway, but, god willin' it'll all work out. See if I can't maybe, catch half a bath today, mild as it is. Might be a merciful gesture, case I get ta town this week, catch up on groceries; one thing bein' grizzly out here all by myself, another scarin' the daylights outta half the county, them runnin' for cover and fresh air, on a chance encounter.

So, 'till later, have a great day and 'case I forgot, happiest of holidays to you and yours!

Best,

Barnyard; Chapter 10

Good Mornin'

And, on to the Rusty Trail! I did try writin' last night, but scrapped the effort; it was o.k., I suppose, but, no wise fair to the question of the meetin', 'tween ol' Rustoleum and the famous horseman from the north.

Ya see, this fella, friend of half a mine, is a genuinely great horseman, least far as I can figure, based on all I heard and read, stories from my friends, spent time with him, articles, books, some of 'em written by friends of my mentors, videos I've watched of him, some time back. But, seems ta me, there comes a time, where the urgency, the glue, that really binds a fella to his craft, comes into question. A fella might get really good at somethin' 'cause it's all he's got and the work, really speaks to a part of him and allows him to speak to that part in others. But, it's when a momentum, an expectation builds, maybe fame and fortune, come into play, when the glue really meets the test. And, to me this is a huge question, as that authenticity is the very thing, really, really attracts us. I see it in myself; I live when it's close and I mourn when it's gone. And, I suppose, I see it in Rusty; it might be the soul of New Mexico. Somehow, since the beginnin' of time, it seems, those that stayed, stayed 'cause it was all they had and they knew it.

So, for these two ta meet, at OK Corral, it was a real question for me, as to who's serious here. This is what I believe, made Tom so great; clarity. The love of the horse was such a real part a him and workin' with horses such a real and heartfelt question, that "the day, the horse and the rider" never escaped his focus, far as I can tell. So, here we had Rusty, an extremely smart and serious old fella, with real concerns about survivin' and maintainin' his sense of "self" and a pretender to Tom's throne. And, so my interest, as the whole story so clearly highlighted the question of integrity and focus, so relevant to any serious consideration of horsework, or life, far as I can tell. And, so it was. Way I heard it the owner, Rusty, Ranger and his daughter loaded up that mornin' and headed for the fairgrounds. Ranger and his daughter, fairin' pretty well, but Rusty had broke out in a full sweat, soon as he entered the arena, full terror in his eye, aware, I suppose, that this just might be his Waterloo; a whole fairground full of horses and people, with big ideas and expectations, fly in the face of every rule Rusty mighta ever come up with on how ta survive, ever and always, himself.

And, a course, it had ta pass, our horseman from the north, noticin' all was fairly well, save one curious horse, in a full sweat, wouldn't have any of it; just walkin' here and there, straight line like he'd always done. I'm told he even came up and considered, he could help, only, after some time, ta figure he didn't have enough for a horse like that, dismount, cuss Rusty and all his ancestors and return to the horses that held some hope of ever livin' up to the name. Rusty, had stumped the chump, and lived, walk all the straight lines, he ever felt inclined.

And, speakin' of happy endin's, the owner had ta take another job and really didn't need a horse anymore and his daughter had grownup and made some choices, took her away from the barn and the horses, so, Rusty and Ranger had come home ta retire, run with my bunch; 1200 acres, five waterholes, half a dozen good friends and for each a paricular mare, that seemed ta like 'em just fine. Rusty, go figure, stealin' the heart a the cutest, sweetest little girlfriend, a fella could ever ask for! That's her, Graceful, up top, and that's her Rusty Barnyard.

Have a great day!

Best,

Barnyard; Chapter 9

Good Evenin'

Well, everything seemed ta be goin' o.k. for Rusty and Ranger, though neither of 'em ever lived close to a city, in a barn, but they were gettin' rid some and I new they was gettin' fed, so it coulda been worse. Now, and then, from what I heard, the owner would let 'em pasture out where he was workin', so they'd get ta be themselves, some, too.

Then, low and behold, the owner had been takin' his daughter and Ranger to a ridin'instructor, there in town and it just so happened that this instructor was real big on a fella I knew, one of the very top clinicians in the country and he was comin' to town. This instructor had convinced the owner and his daughter to sign up and ride in the clinic. Oh, lord, was I startin' to smile; not so much for the horses, who individually had had more drunk cowboys on their backs, than fleas on my dog, nor for the owner and his daughter, but anybody, comes to New Mexico, for example this trainer, thinkin' it's just another state in the union, well, there just apt to meet somebody like Rusty Barnyard.

See, what I'd come ta understand about Rusty, knowin' a little about where he'd grown up and the folks in that particular burrough, I figure he'd run into so many crazy people and crazy situations, nobody ever takin' the time, explain anything, as a means of survival, he'd had come up with a strategy. Over years, I reckin', he had honed the fine art of doin' as little as equinely possible and just enough, to where nobody would get mad enough to shoot him. And, where folks that had too much ta drink aren't too long on persistence, by and large, he'd come ta figure, he could outlast, just about anyone.

So, once again, I was countin' time, with mixed emotions, a course, hopin' all'd go well for the owner and his very sweet daughter and the boys, Rusty and Ranger, but with half a tickle, I couldn't shake, suspectin' that this trainer, good friend a half a mine, just might never have met anyone, quite like Rusty Barnyard. And, everytime it crossed my mind, I'd start ta chuckle.

More, man~ana; have a nice night.

Best,

Barnyard; Chapter 8

Good Mornin'

Just plain, too tired last night; not that I did so much yesterday, but some times I think, bracin' for the cold, it just wears ya out and it's sure easy sleep more than usual.

Anyway, next major event I recall in the Rusty Barnyard saga, would be the owner here, decidin' to move Rusty and Ranger down to Santa Fe, where he was consultin' on a project, southeast a there and havin' a horse would be a benefit, least wise an excuse, get out and ride some. Thing is, people do have different ideas about movin' horses and way it turned out, this fella made up his mind move 'em in December in a stock trailer. Now, I can't criticize him, as there is a broad range of ideas, far as what's acceptable and I tend ta come down on the softer side a things, but a hundred miles in 20 degree weather, in a stock trailer, ta my mind that's stretchin' things some. Sure they're like ta survive, but how far ya wanta push a friendship and/or mental, emotional limits, with a critter you aim ta climb on and count on, special when your skill level ain't exactly advanced.

Anyway, I did all I could think ta board up the holes in the trailer; neither a these guys, Rusty or Ranger, ever had much doin's with travel and both were older. And, off they went, much as I weren't real pleased and I counted time 'till I thought they'd arrive and called ta see how it went. Aside from the owner, 'bout gettin killed, when they bust out, another spot when ya wanta think things through, for ya go ta openin' gates, special when the critters might be some insulted by what they just went through, all in all, everybody was o.k..

So, off they were on their own adventure, in their own new barnyard and, time to time I'd get news and stories.

So, 'till next time, have a good day.

Best,

Barnyard; Chapter 7

Good Evenin'

Well, I thought some more on the continuing saga of Rusty Barnyard, and truthfully, it was a long time ago, must be ten years, since Rusty come in. But, best I recall, Rusty spent some time up here with my bunch. I think I kept him up by the barn for a while, let him settle in, then turned him out and I do remember ridin' him some, see if he was steady, as the previous owner had said.

But, my most vivid recollection of that time, was just how much Rusty seemed ta like the it here. I've noticed, workin' a lot of horses around other peoples barns, how aware the horses are of the overall atmosphere and how much it affects their attitude. Well, Rusty, by all appearances, found our operation, just dandy! I remember goin' out to check on the bunch, shortly after I'd turned him loose. They were grazin' up in the woods, about a quarter mile north a the barn. Rusty was so tickled with the pasture and his new friends, he was bouncin' through the trees, like a baby deer; first this way, then that as he made his way down the slope, back and forth, 'tween trees; delirious! Sure made me laugh.

So, there we were; I think at the time, it was Big, Tubby, Sombra, the old grey mare, Rusty and Ranger, another of my "contract" purchases for the ranch, on behalf of one of the other partners. Big I had bought out from under the "meat man" for 30 cents a pound, and Tubby, I had brought down from Utah, back in the nineties, when I first come back to New Mexico. Sombra, I had rescued from a ranch where she'd been left by her ailing owner, had to go south for her health. Anyway, a motley but fairly happy bunch, middle a nowhere New Mexico.

And, it's late again, so, god willin' will pick 'er up tomorrow.

Have a nice night.

Best

Barnyard; Chapter 6 and a Half.

Good Afternoon,

Well, just plain cold last night and, similar the night before, I'd woke up about 4am, with the dog's wonderin' about a fire and myself, havin' not yet broke out my second sleepin' bag, cold enough ta consider, "that would be a good idea!". So, cold again last night and wakin' up so early in the mornin', now with my other bag in place, warm and in bed, trumped cold and writin'. I hope you followed all that, as there will be a quiz tomorrow.

Anyway, now I gotta defend myself, save face, in the face of my paricularly "ungraceful" loadin' experience, with ol' Rusty. And, I suppose it boils down to a couple of simple mistakes. One, not thinkin' ahead, like "how well do I know this horse and how long could it take" and maybe startin' out ealier, and, two, forgettin' basic principals of horse work, applyin' muscle stead a wisdom, for example, as old Tom would say, "goin' faster by goin' slower!", or, maybe more important, "OBSERVE, remember and compare". But, truthfully, I'm not sure I'd a had anything compare Rusty to, no matter, how much I observed.

But, that's all hind sight, we were loaded, we did make it home, Rusty got his dinner and I'd learned another great lesson. And, just ta add another twist, sometimes, ya just gotta make a call, special when you're workin' with other peoples horses; if a horse has become used to a certain kinda handlin', even if you, yourself, don't consider it "proper", sometimes you gotta figure, what you gotta do, how much time ya have and do ya wanta address "the how, now or later". Point bein' that, sometimes, askin' a horse, special an older horse, consider a different way a doin' things, can take sometime. So, that's my story, the defense has made it's case, and, as I said, all in all, we were both alive, fairly well and on our way home.

So, now it's time for "blankets! We got out the old sleepin' bags, one for me and one for the dogs, which means we're pretty cozy, sleepin', but now, a few blankets on the wall and we won't have ta rush, so much, 'tween eatin' and gettin' in bed. The west wall ain't bundled up like last year and the cold just shines right in, offa that wall, soon as we get down around zero, but I think that wool blanket'll make a difference. If not we'll go back, try to bundle 'er up like last year, though my resources aren't quite so abundant.

Anyway, happy afternoon and I'll think on the next chapter of "Rusty O'Barnyard".

Best,

Barnyard; Chapter 6

Good Evenin'

Well, don't even remember what happened last night; though I think it may have been a phone call. Had a brief career in film making; an idea for a movie. But, two or three phone calls and I decided to retire; too much controversy! The upside, I broke even and still have some time to get back to my other career as a starving writer and saddle tramp.

Anyway, this storm, just passed, wasn't much in terms of snow, maybe six inches, but boy, the mercury sure fell outta the thermometer; mighta made twenty today, but little more. I suspect we'll be down in the minus numbers tonight. But, so far my "wood piles under the pine trees" system is holdin' up and workin' fairly well.

And, I might make a little correction, on my last installment of the Barnyard Saga; always wondered what a saga was. But, I was tryin' to remember exactly how that trailer loadin' deal wound up, 'cause it seemed like both me and Rusty went flyin' when that rope broke. So, I was thinkin' about it and remembered that, that trailer didn't have a ball on the back. Then I remembered. I was usin' my hips as the "winch". In other words, I had brought the rope back from the front window and wrapped it around my hips, so that everytime Rusty gave a little, I would take up the slack and lean into it with my posterity! Then I remembered that Rusty hadn't quite sat down, but was pullin' back with so much conviction, that he was darn close. So, when the rope give, Rustoleum went ta backpeddlin' best he could and the cowboy, similarly, proceeded to "watusi" this way and that until both ended up in their respective piles; Rustoleum seated like a dog, back side down, front side up and I, in some sort of creative yoga thing, lookin' at the sky, upside down, from 'tween my legs. But, keen as I was ta get goin', as I said, I scrambled up, 'fore Rusty figured out what happened, grabbed the lead and headed for the trailer, Rusty either too confused to consider any alternative, or figurin' I was, just maybe, more stubborn than him and he might as well go along, as it was gettin' on toward dinner time.

So, there ya have it; I do remember stuff, sometimes it just takes me a day, or two.

Have a nice night.

Best,

Barnyard; Chapter 5

Good Evenin',

And, back to the adventures of "Rustoleum". So, the owner here decided to go ahead and take old Rusty and somehow, or other I set it up, where the fella that owned him would drop him off at a neighbors house, though I can't remember, exactly why. But, I do remember takin' my old one horse wagon, a well made, but home made deal that was pretty tight, but safe, go pick him up.

When I had gone to see Rusty Barnyard, first time, the fella that owned him had said that he'd owned Rusty since he was little and that he'd roped off him, gathered with him, packed with him and there had never been a problem loadin' him. He'd even takin' the lead rope and jumped up on a flatbed trailer, parked in his yard, and Rusty had jumped right up with him. So, I really wasn't anticipatin' any problems, far as loadin' went, but I was wrong.

And, who knows, maybe it was that little bitty trailer, maybe it was leavin' home; maybe I had a different way a goin' about things, but rusty wasn't about ta set foot in that wagon. Quite a surprise. So, I tried all my best and most patient variations on gettin a horse to load, but to no avail. Finally, several hours had passed, I got my lariat, looped it over the end of the lead rope, pulled it tight, fed it up through the nose of the trailer and back along the side, to where I could pull on the lariat, which would pull on the lead rope, toward the trailer, so I could stand beside Rusty, rub and encourage him and keep him from driftin' off ta the side. No good.

So, now it was gettin' dark, I had other horses ta feed and water and it was just plain time for Rusty to get in! So, we started a sort of tug a war. I was still rubbin' on him and encouragin' him best I could, but every time he'd give an inch, I'd suck up the lariat and wrap it around a ball I had, welded on the back, case I ever had to drag a calf in. We were makin' progress, but it wasn't "pretty" or anywhere near my usual dealin's with any horse, I'd ever met.

And, I can't remember if the rope broke and then Rusty sat down, or if he sat down and leaned back and then the rope broke, but break it did, to our mutual astonishment. And, again, I do remember Rusty, quite suddenly fifteen or twenty feet back from where he had been, one half of one second before. But, in that split second of pure astonishment, I must have seen my "window", 'cause, with out hesitatin', I ran back, grabbed the remains of the lead rope and run into the trailer; a very tight fit. But, in his astonishment, he just followed me in. I tied a quick knot, slipped out and closed the door, 'fore he knew where he was.
I jumped in the truck, fired it up, put 'er in gear, made a quick loop around the neighbors house, with a wave, and headed home. Rusty, in my rear view mirror, still lookin' quite puzzled at how, on earth, he had ended up in that old tin can of a trailer.

More, man~ana.

G'night and Best, always.
jeune

Barnyard; Chapter 4

Afternoon!

Well, it blew pretty steady, yesterday, and I was over in a little town, kinda up in the hills, trimmin' burros and mules. Don't know why exactly, but, time I got home and fed, it was all I could do cook some supper and hit the bunk.

So, back to the Barnyard trail and I'm gonna take another turn here, try to keep this simple; my favorite rule a thumb, the "Kiss" principal, keep it simple, silly. 'Cause, end a the day, I wonder if this story about Barnyard, Rusty, isn't just a story about how different people can be, and how their experiences color the way they see the world.

I know, back in the fifties and sixties, along with the "TV Westerns" there were a lot of "Big Screen" Westerns and almost everybody, either heard of, or remembers John Wayne. And, it's kinda funny 'cause I knew people like him, but all to say, there definitely came a point in my life, where I had to admit, "I am not like that!". Heck, I had a brother, one a those amazing people, seemed like whatever he put his mind to, it just turn to gold; handsome, popular, an amazin' athlete, you name it.

But, I remember a dream I had, when I was fairly young; twelve or so. Same dream, every night; lasted several weeks. Simple, really; jist of it, nobody really knew anybody. Whole thing was a shadow game, smoke and mirrors, but the scary part, was not knowin' my own self. All I could do was cry when I woke up and, a course, young as I was, I couldn't explain it to anyone.

But, it seems, it took me 'till my late teens, tryin' ta be like my brother, 'fore I could admit, I wasn't him and start ta look for myself. So, I guess what I'm sayin' is, there might be a lot of people, look at life as a matter of "doin", but the circumstances of my life, kinda left me with a big question of "seein". And, it's really pretty funny; I feel like, maybe, ever since I had those dreams, I've tried ta "do" so many things. Now, here I am, fifty years later, and maybe over all those years and all that "doin", the question remains, and maybe even stronger, "ok, but do you see?".

So, I think this is the "bottom of the barrel"; with a different sort of meanin'. Kinda like the heart of my story about Rusty, and me. Now, let's see if I can find my way back to the horse.

Have a nice night.

Best,