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Jan. 6th, 2008 08:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
which_chickI had a pretty good weekend -- got the burrs and twisties out of the horses in the good weather. Meatly, as you may recall, got burdock all through her during her stay over at Clyde's. I rode her home the other weekend (minutes ahead of the sleet) but didn't want to stand out in twenty degrees and pull out burdock, so she had to wait until we got fit weather. Nick, looking more gravid weekly, has been spending time with the faeries and, as a result, has twisties all through her mane. (Seriously. Shakespeare knew about this. See Act 1, scene 4, Romeo and Juliet.)
I rode Meatly up to the stop sign after the covered bridge. It was nice enough to go futher, but she was kind of sweaty and feeling put upon (she's woefully out of shape) so we turned around and went home. Meatly is such a fun ride -- I really, really like her jog. It's almost too smooth to post to.
After that, I went home and made a raspberry pie (for Tasha, who'd asked for one back in the summertime) and a shoo-fly pie (for Liss, who asked for one today). The shoo-fly, it doesn't look right. It looks... squishy. I'm going to toss it and try another tomorrow. Maybe it's one of those things where some practice is needed. The black raspberry pie was, of course, no trouble at all and it came out great.
I took the pie over to Tash's house and showed her the brown yarn. She was interested, said Marybeth had also asked (pretty enthusiastically) about whether or not we could have a sheep-fur-n-spinning thing some day in the not-terribly-distant future. I allowed as how that would indeed be possible and told her to try to put something together for next weekend, weather permitting. Marybeth has apparently taught herself to knit in the last few months, using the internet for instructions. Way to go, MB! (Of course it's cool. That's how I learned, so it is, ipso-facto, cool.)
Tasha also got a nice pony harness for Leisel (the half-welsh pony she got from up north of State College) and is looking forward to that sort of entertainment when the weather suits. Apparently the Amish taught Leisel to drive, so she probably has some skills, there.
Also, final item of interest, Trys's pony lady down south of here, the one who does hunter/jumper horses, has a favorite pony. Her favorite pony ever, who belongs to her, she has all along been saying is a "Morab" (Half morgan, half arabian.) but he lacks papers because the person she bought him from never completed the transfer from the previous owner (or whatever) and now this alleged Morab is like a car without a proper title. So, Trysta is listening to the lady go on and on about her horse's lack o' registration papers and the pony lady says blah blah blah "four oaks jer-ez" blah blah blah. Trysta was like "What?" The pony lady repeated blah blah blah "four oaks jer-ez" blah blah "honey" blah. Trysta apparently looked stunned and with cause. Four Oaks Jerez (pronounced "War-ez" and not "Jer (like JERk) ez") was Nicks' sire. He belonged to Liss from when he was born. Honey is a bay pony mare (now dead) that Trys's mom had for as long as I can remember. So, Trys's pony lady's most favorite horse ever in the whole entire world, her personal equine paragon, the one she likes above all others... is a homebred from Trysta's mother's horses. He is not, however, a morab. There's no morgan in him.
I rode Meatly up to the stop sign after the covered bridge. It was nice enough to go futher, but she was kind of sweaty and feeling put upon (she's woefully out of shape) so we turned around and went home. Meatly is such a fun ride -- I really, really like her jog. It's almost too smooth to post to.
After that, I went home and made a raspberry pie (for Tasha, who'd asked for one back in the summertime) and a shoo-fly pie (for Liss, who asked for one today). The shoo-fly, it doesn't look right. It looks... squishy. I'm going to toss it and try another tomorrow. Maybe it's one of those things where some practice is needed. The black raspberry pie was, of course, no trouble at all and it came out great.
I took the pie over to Tash's house and showed her the brown yarn. She was interested, said Marybeth had also asked (pretty enthusiastically) about whether or not we could have a sheep-fur-n-spinning thing some day in the not-terribly-distant future. I allowed as how that would indeed be possible and told her to try to put something together for next weekend, weather permitting. Marybeth has apparently taught herself to knit in the last few months, using the internet for instructions. Way to go, MB! (Of course it's cool. That's how I learned, so it is, ipso-facto, cool.)
Tasha also got a nice pony harness for Leisel (the half-welsh pony she got from up north of State College) and is looking forward to that sort of entertainment when the weather suits. Apparently the Amish taught Leisel to drive, so she probably has some skills, there.
Also, final item of interest, Trys's pony lady down south of here, the one who does hunter/jumper horses, has a favorite pony. Her favorite pony ever, who belongs to her, she has all along been saying is a "Morab" (Half morgan, half arabian.) but he lacks papers because the person she bought him from never completed the transfer from the previous owner (or whatever) and now this alleged Morab is like a car without a proper title. So, Trysta is listening to the lady go on and on about her horse's lack o' registration papers and the pony lady says blah blah blah "four oaks jer-ez" blah blah blah. Trysta was like "What?" The pony lady repeated blah blah blah "four oaks jer-ez" blah blah "honey" blah. Trysta apparently looked stunned and with cause. Four Oaks Jerez (pronounced "War-ez" and not "Jer (like JERk) ez") was Nicks' sire. He belonged to Liss from when he was born. Honey is a bay pony mare (now dead) that Trys's mom had for as long as I can remember. So, Trys's pony lady's most favorite horse ever in the whole entire world, her personal equine paragon, the one she likes above all others... is a homebred from Trysta's mother's horses. He is not, however, a morab. There's no morgan in him.
