Piles of Zen

I was having a cup a tea with my friend Laura when she asked me what my ultimate dream job would be?  I thought about it for a minute and I told her that I wanted to be a published writer.  I don't think that I really convinced either of us with that answer.  Deep down the dark truth of what that job would be started to bubble into the light.  I love scooping poop. That is, I love mucking out horse stalls. Give me a dirty, crappy barn and I'll have it scooped, raked, swept up and put back together in no time.  I turn on my news radio program, grab my pitch fork and scoop away my cares. 
There is nothing that I love more then walking down a swept aisle way of a barn past freshly bedded stalls, with dinner feed set up in the corner, water buckets sparkling full and clean enough for me to drink from. Soul cleansing at it's finest.  So what if the horse comes in and swirls their hay around, pee all over it and top it off with a giant dump?   It just means I have more work for the next day. 

BEFORE

I get in that dirty stall and I feel like I'm in a giant trashed Zen garden.  In a meditative daze, I get to restore it back into harmony and peace with nature.


AFTER

 No ringing phones, no panicked questions, no people needing me, no watching the clock tick backwards waiting for the end of the day.  All I have to do is work until it all looks perfect and the horses are all tucked back in their stalls happily eating and crapping. 

Om...
I've got wheelbarrows of it.

For now, I have a few meditative Zen gardens to clean at the ranch but not enough to pay the bills. 

So for now, I won't quite my day job. As for the day job...we have now installed a Zen garden by the phone incase we need some emergency enlightenment.

Serenity now!  SERENITY NOW!!!!!!!

Thanks for reading!  I'm looking for any ideas on how to get my blog out to more readers.  If you have any ideas please let me know by emailing me at Jacksonhillhorseygirl@gmail.com . 

Copyright (c) 2012 Jacksonhillhorseygirl.com

Save Your Nipples Part 2...Yes there's a part 2

It was like any other day at the veterinary office.  The phone rang, animals pooped all over the place, I scooped it up, I made appointments, helped customers...  It was just past lunch when our favorite eighty something dairy farmer, from the blog Save Your Nipples, stopped in for a visit.  He shuffled his way over to the front desk and began to tell us what he needed. As I was trying to sort through his thick Portuguese accent I looked up and noticed his glasses.  They were totally smeared over in cow poop!  "How did you drive here with your glasses like that?" I blurted over him. 
"What?"
"There totally covered in poop!" He seemed surprised at the information I was giving him.  "Give me those."  He obediently handed them over.  I took them in the back and scalded them under hot water until I was able to use a rag scrub off the rest of his job hazard. 
I dried the glasses off and handed them back to him.  He put them back on, looked at me and then gave me an astonished look.  "You look sharp today!"  There was so much surprise in his voice that it seemed less like a compliment and more like total amazement that I could actually look sharp.  Note to self:  try not to look like I work at a barn in the morning before I go to work even though  I do work at a barn in the morning before I go to work. 
Anyhow, I will admit, I was having one of my three good hair days I get a year.  Before I got too flattered or too insulted, he pointed his finger at me and slowly shook it as he said "I'm going to Brazil for a month.  I will bring you back a bikini to make your husband mad."
He said this in a manner that wasn't flirty or antagonising or dirty.  It was more like your husband better appreciate you sort of thing.  With that he turned and left.  I was left standing there speechless as I usually am after he comes in and makes a statement.  I just hope he does not bring me back a bikini but if he does you will know it if you see a blog entitled Save Your Nipples Part 3.

Thanks for reading and for all the great comments!  I appreciate the time & thought you put into writing them.  I save them all.  I'd like to encourage everyone to become a "Follower" to my blog ( I know, it sounds so cult like) Just look to the right of the blog and  just click on "Join this site".  If you would like to be added to my emailing list contact me at Jacksonhillhorseygirl@gmail.com .
Copyright (c) 2012

What Blows Between a Horse's Ears...

This past weekend I was a sad sack.  Friday was wrapped in warm blue skies with light breezes that harmonized with the song birds.  Work was three days out of sight with no major domestic duties to tie up my time.  My morning had nothing for me to do except for going for a ride on the beach with Cindy and her horse Syria.   I sulked around the ranch as I fed the horses and got Autumn settled in her stall for breakfast. There was not  a single second that morning that I was I excited to go to the beach.  Excuses swirled through my head to get out of going.  I just wanted to go home, pull the blankets over my head and sleep until the weekend was over. I took out my phone to cancel the ride when the little voice inside me intercepted the call.  Are you kidding me?  Suck it up, get your saddle, shove your horse in the trailer and get your butt on the beach!
Okay! Alright! Fine, I'll go! 
Before I knew it,  Autumn and I were strolling beside the Pacific ocean as it unfurled itself at our feet.  I eventually climbed onto Autumn.  She carried me in my oblivion as she splashed happily in the surf and shuffled after the seagulls.  Finally, we reached our turn around point where Autumn normally kicks it into warp speed to get back to the trailer.  But today she stopped and stood still.   I lifted up my eyes and this is what I saw...

The wind of heaven is that which blows between a horse's ears.
 ~Arabian Proverb

...And right away, I was glad I went...

... I was grateful for my great friend Autumn, who had carried me out of my darkness and into her light...I was grateful to Cindy for always giving me a lift into a better day!

Thanks for reading! If you would like to be added to my mailing list please email me at Jacksonhillhorseygirl@gmail.com.

Copyright (c) 2012 Jacksonhillhorseygirl.com

The Social Neigh-Work

Before the invention of the telegraph, if you wanted an urgent message delivered from New York to California you would have to do something we're not accustomed to doing these days.  You would have to wait for it to be delivered.  It would take an upwards of ten or more days for it to arrive.  A cavalry of horses were stationed across the country at relay stations.  These horses be traded off after carrying your letter, at full speed, for 10-15 miles until they reached the next relay station.  Your letter would be passed off to the next horse and rider that would gallop another 10-15 miles to the next relay station and so on and so forth and etc.  That letter would have ridden a few hundred horses just to make it to the hand of it's desired reader.  Luckily for horses and the impatient, all it takes is the push of a button or a click of a mouse to send a message faster then a blinking eye.  We have email, texting, calling, instant messaging, Twitter, Facebook...and who knows? Maybe something else was just created while I was writing this...to keep us all connected.  But, it's not just for us humans anymore.  One of our fellow blog readers turned me on to a new networking tool, not one for me but for my horse Autumn.


Horsebook.com



Facebook.com now has an app. called Horsebook.com.  Just type it in the search box and hee-haw!  You'll be corralled into the latest horsey gossip coming straight from the horses mouth!  Good-bye pony express. Hello point and click! 
The horses on the chat speak in the first person.  They will tell each other that they had a good meal of oats that day or the veterinarian came out to give them vaccinations.  They wish each other happy birthday.  They tell each other they love their owners and their boyfriend or girlfriend horses.  

They even have their own profiles. They tell you what their favorite treat, food, trick, place to visit and things to do are.  The horses have photo albums, videos and their own profile picture.  They have a list and count of all their friends.  Instead of "poking" their friends to let them know that they are thinking about them, they can "brush" them. 

I started Autumn her own page but I have to work on talking for her in the first person.  I feel a little awkward so I write everything in a  pretty abstract narrative like "Had a good ride today" or "It's hailing in the pasture".  It's the best I can do.  I've got to keep on working on it.  I don't want to embarrass Autumn.   Autumn's  Horsebook page has been up a day and I think that she already has more friends then I do on Facebook.  She certainly has gotten "brushed" more then I've ever gotten "poked" on her chat page.  That's okay, I have known for a while that she is a lot cooler then me.  I can handle it. 

If your horse would like to be Autumn's "friend" on Horsebook or you would like to be added to my mailing list, please email me at Jacksonhillhorseygirl@gmail.com . Thanks for reading!

Copyright (c) 2012 Jacksonhillhorseygirl.com

High Horse

A few years ago, we got a call at the veterinary office from a client out in the hills east of us.  Her horse was staggering around the pasture and she wanted the doctor to make the hour long drive out to her property as soon as possible. 
It was late noon before the doctor made it back to the office.  She said that the horse was walking as if it were drunk, totally uncoordinated and very fatigued.  The horse did not have a fever, heart rate was fine, hydration was fine.  The strange symptoms started adding up to the possibility that this horse could be suffering from some sort of neurological disorder.  Neurological disorders in horses are just about as great as they are in humans.  The treatment is long, costly and although there can be substantial improvement after the treatment, full recovery is not guaranteed.  The doctor reviewed all the different lab work available to test the blood samples she had taken from her patient.  With it being so late in the day we were unable to catch the overnight courier. The lab work would have to wait until the following day to be sent out. 
In the meantime, the doctor pulled out medical books, comparing symptoms and scenarios.  Before leaving for the day, the doctor called the client for an update.  The client said that another horse out in the same pasture was now displaying the same symptoms. The two of them were just swaying and swaggering their way around the field nibbling here and there at the grass. 
The next morning I got myself busy filling out the lab work forms and packaging up the blood work.  As the doctor was sitting down to call the client for an update the client called us.  The office came to a stand still and we listened to what we could of the conversation.  The doctor's face went from stone cold serious, to an eyebrow lifting wonderment, to a smile and then beat red.  There was a lot of laughing and "yes-ing" and it ended in "well that's good".
"Well?" we all asked when she hung up.
The doctor explained that the owner decided to walk the perimeter of their 40 acre pasture when she happened upon a huge heap of clippings that someone had dumped over their fence.  On closer inspection, the owner realized that this was not your typical landscape clippings.  This was some of Humboldt County's special green grass trimmings.  These horses weren't stumbling as much as they were tripping. Their diagnosis was eating weeds and getting a little dopey. 


This grass is like, so good man! You like, really got to try a bite! Wow!  It's like so green.

After this whole situation we decided that we may have to create a new type of exam to deal with these types of symptoms in the future. The exam would have to include:

1. Checking the eyes for redness
2. Playing live Grateful Dead music to observe if the horse does the hippie shuffle dance and likes the 45 minute guitar solo.
3. Offering the horse a tub of Ben & Jerry's ice cream to observe if he eats it all without sharing.
4. Seeing if the horse will engage in a game of hacky sack.
5. Seeing if the horse would like to jump on a trampoline.

Thanks for reading!  If you would like to be added to my mailing list please email me at Jacksonhillhorseygirl@gmail.com
Copyright (c) 2012 Jacksonhillhorseygirl.com

P.T.S.D. Goat

"I'm going to need the veterinarian to come out right away!  Our goat was attacked by a bear and he's hiding under the deck shaking and won't come out." 
Ugh...a bear attack...never good.  "Is he bleeding?" I asked.
"I don't know, I can't see." a frantic voice replied.
"Okay, I'll send the doctor out right away.  In the meantime, you are going to have to get the goat out from under your deck for the doctor to be of any help."
"Okay. Okay."
I filled the doctor in on the appointment and the doctor rushed around the office grabbing suture and bandage material.  It was only a mater of minutes after I received the phone call that the doctor was on her way. 
Meanwhile, I got busy changing appointment times in order to give the doctor plenty of time to put the goat back together again.  When I had the schedule all reorganized the doctor came driving in.  Not good I thought.  Poor goat probably had to be euthanized it was so bad. 
The doctor walked in and I winced when I asked her how it went. 
"Well, the goat's fine, not a scratch on it."
"Really?"
"It turns out, that the dogs of the goat owner, were going nuts out in their yard which caused them to go outside to see what was wrong.  A big black bear was in their yard just sitting on top of their goat!  Just sitting on it!"

I wonder how many goats could fit under that ba-dunk-a-dunk?

The veterinarian went on to say that the owners made some sort of ruckus and chased the bear off.  Freed from the grizzly prison of buns of steel, the liberated goat B-lined it back to the house hiding itself under the deck.  There wasn't a single ding on him.  The poor little guy was just traumatized.  The veterinarian gave him a little sedative to help him relax but that's about all she could do to calm his little nerves. 
We called a few days later to check in.  He was doing well but still not himself.  Unfortunately, there aren't any self help groups for goats like him to talk out his terrifying experience and to know, that he is not alone.

Okay.  Who wants to share first?  Come on.  We're all here for the same reason.  No one is going to judge you. 
How about you?  Sitting all alone.  What's your story?

Thanks for reading!  If you would like to be added to my mailing list please email me at Jacksonhillhorseygirl@gmail.com.

Copyright (c) 2012 Jacksonhillhorseygirl.com  

Save Your Nipples...

Humboldt County may be well know for it's "green grass", and big logs but it also has a thriving dairy industry.  In the latter part of the 19th century Swiss-Italian and Portuguese immigrants came to work and to start their own dairies throughout Humboldt county.  Today the Portuguese still dominate the dairy business up here. 
I've watched the TV shows "Dirty Jobs" and "World's Toughest Jobs" and I vote that dairymen should win first place for both of those shows.  I don't need to tell you why I vote it the world's dirtiest job but in case you need me tell you it's full on non stop crap.  Getting crapped on directly from the source, stepping in it, shoveling it, wearing it, spreading it...  I vote it the toughest job because you do NOT get a day off.  Those girls need to be milked twice a day and they are on a schedule.  There are no sick days, no vacation days, no personal days, no I'm too hung over to get out of bed days, no it's too cold/rainy/hot/snowy to go to work days...You get no days off.  Period.  When those guys aren't milking they are scraping up poop, feeding, watering, tending to sick animals, fixing fences, fixing machinery,  planting hay, irrigating pastures, cutting hay, baling hay, storing hay, breeding animals, calving, selling animals, watching the milk market prices, selling their milk... At some point they must fall over and sleep a few hours before they have to get up in the dark of the morning and do it all over again.  All that work so we can have some extra whip on our mochas in the morning. 
Last week, one of our hard working Portuguese dairy farmers stopped by the veterinary office to pick up a few things.  He's a lovable guy, still hard working into his early 80's.  He loves to come into the office and charm all of us "beautiful senoritas" in his thick-as-pee-soup accent (which usually takes me about a minute of lag time to figure out what he just said).   Well, on this visit another good client and friend of mine was in chatting about her horse.  She had met this diary farmer a few weeks earlier when he walked off with one of her calenders she had for sale for Christmas.  He proceeded to tell her that he gave her calender to his brother-in-law in southern California.  He explained that he had horses down there that pulled wagons and not only that but he sucked on his mother.  Okay, so my minute of lag time was up and I still didn't know what he was talking about.  He was looking at us like "You know!  Sucking on his mother."  
I was now totally lost in the wilderness of translation and I gave him my best obvious puzzled look and my friend nodded at me. 
"Sucking on her nipples!" He said.
My friend's face was candy apple red. 
"He's a momma's boy?" I asked.
"Yes!  Momma's boy!"
We all laughed relieved this conversation made some awkward sense and was over...we thought.
He paid his bill and was getting ready to leave when he shook his finger at my friend, looked her straight in the eyes and said, "You save your nipples for some one good!  You understand?" 
She nodded.
He said something else as he walked out the door and my friend, who's nerves seemed a bit frayed at this point, yelled "What did he say?" 
After I had my minute of lag time I realized he said "Have a beautiful year." 

Don't let anyone take advantage of yours!

 It's not everyday, or really any day for that matter, that you get such serious advise concerning your nipples.  I began to think about this topic after he left and it all started to make sense when I began to think about his job.  Talking about nipples, for him, is like someone talking about using their computer or cash register at work.  He has spent his whole life yanking on nipples to make a living. Talking about nipples is just shop talk for him.  But you know?  He's right.  Don't just give yours away especially to someone who is not good.
Thanks for reading!  If you would like to be added to my mailing list please email me at Jacksonhillhorseygirl@gmail.com.

Copyright (c) 2012 Jacksonhillhorseygirl.com