Saturday, May 28, 2011
Collie
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Chaos
How quickly the memories fade, almost as if one is pouring water onto the porous sand. The shop is over run with people. Everyone is moving and darting around in a mad quirky mob. Going to and fro, back and forth bumping into each other, but not touching. Knocking each other down, but all remaining on their feet. I decide to walk across the street to the house. Such a simple task, but not today. The ground is not solid, alas there is no ground at all, just uneven columns of various sizes, that you have to jump from the top of one to the other. Not very big, some the size of a water glass, but not to land on the top will send you to oblivion.
The house is more crowded than the shop. Who are these people and why have they invaded my space? The pool is full from the deep end to the shallow end and no one is wet. I will go up the road to the top of the hill. Finally some solid ground. The car salesman is singing a song to me, almost like a siren. "Come on in, buy this car and you will go far." So stupid, but I hand over the money and get in. Some one asks, "Why didn't you get the 396?" I did not want a race car, I replied.
The car turned into a weird spectacle. I stood still, but the world came by me. Whatever I imagined I saw, slowly coming by as if I were on a conveyor belt. Joe had to go into town to look at some houses his mother had picked out. We seemed to be on the same belt. Where he went, I went, along with the fox squirrel. That gray and white squirrel wanted to be friends, which was OK with me, but he had to quit biting my ass. It hurts, but it must be a squirrel thing, for he seemed to enjoy it. We made him wait in the lobby as we got into the broken down elevator with the house salesman. We watched the sides of the building go by as we ascended to the top floor. The door opens directly into the housing project apartment. Everything is neat and clean, stark contrast to all else that I had been seeing. Walking back into the living room, the woman lay on the bed trying to seduce Joe to buy the house. He is oblivious to her and her nakedness. The squirrel got off the elevator and we step out the window to the ground below.
Where did I meet Joe? Out of the sea of people, he is the only one I connected with. We don't speak, but we know. We were on the same conveyor belt going through the city's golf course. Everyone had on their visors and green shorts. Cocktail glasses were the golf clubs, olives were the golf balls and their mouths were the holes in one. Drunkenness and lust, people shoulder to shoulder, drunk with stupidity, all crowded togather, kept them standing. Everyone connected at some point by flesh, not one in the crowd that is not wired to someone else, but not touching.
So much information from the crowd. "I have the cure for baldness, guaranteed or double your money back." said the bald man with the rug. I have learned how to cure acne, diabetes and migraine headaches. Did you know that you can soothe and cool hemorrhoids with just one wipe from this miracle jar? I did not even know that I had hemorrhoids. I discovered by looking into this glass box that a bear does his business in the woods. If he does not use this brand, then he will have paper scraps left on his butt. His mother will use a lint brush to remove it. He at first would use a whole roll, but as he got older he learned to get by with a lot less. My life has been enriched by knowing all of this.
As I rode the belt to Grandpas' house the ground disappears again and the columns are the only way to navigate. It was a huge task to reach the swing under the giant pecan tree. When I reached the back porch, everyone disappeared. Uncle Buddy was gone a long time ago, then Grandpa, then Grannie and now dad. Who is next? Then I saw that old demon sneaking around. I had not seen him for a while, but he was always around, worrying the shit out of me, always in my mind. Some days I was strong and others I was not. What did he want? Leave me alone, go away. I had a plan to draw him in. I would drink to fool him, I would spin the chamber to entice him closer. I would cock the hammer to get him drunk. I would put the barrel to my temple to make him giddy. I did not look, but his foul oder got closer. He was giggling and the stink was so close that I could taste it. As he lost control, I spun around and shot him dead between his evil eyes. Freaking idiot, that damn fox squirrel was the demon.
The house is more crowded than the shop. Who are these people and why have they invaded my space? The pool is full from the deep end to the shallow end and no one is wet. I will go up the road to the top of the hill. Finally some solid ground. The car salesman is singing a song to me, almost like a siren. "Come on in, buy this car and you will go far." So stupid, but I hand over the money and get in. Some one asks, "Why didn't you get the 396?" I did not want a race car, I replied.
The car turned into a weird spectacle. I stood still, but the world came by me. Whatever I imagined I saw, slowly coming by as if I were on a conveyor belt. Joe had to go into town to look at some houses his mother had picked out. We seemed to be on the same belt. Where he went, I went, along with the fox squirrel. That gray and white squirrel wanted to be friends, which was OK with me, but he had to quit biting my ass. It hurts, but it must be a squirrel thing, for he seemed to enjoy it. We made him wait in the lobby as we got into the broken down elevator with the house salesman. We watched the sides of the building go by as we ascended to the top floor. The door opens directly into the housing project apartment. Everything is neat and clean, stark contrast to all else that I had been seeing. Walking back into the living room, the woman lay on the bed trying to seduce Joe to buy the house. He is oblivious to her and her nakedness. The squirrel got off the elevator and we step out the window to the ground below.
Where did I meet Joe? Out of the sea of people, he is the only one I connected with. We don't speak, but we know. We were on the same conveyor belt going through the city's golf course. Everyone had on their visors and green shorts. Cocktail glasses were the golf clubs, olives were the golf balls and their mouths were the holes in one. Drunkenness and lust, people shoulder to shoulder, drunk with stupidity, all crowded togather, kept them standing. Everyone connected at some point by flesh, not one in the crowd that is not wired to someone else, but not touching.
So much information from the crowd. "I have the cure for baldness, guaranteed or double your money back." said the bald man with the rug. I have learned how to cure acne, diabetes and migraine headaches. Did you know that you can soothe and cool hemorrhoids with just one wipe from this miracle jar? I did not even know that I had hemorrhoids. I discovered by looking into this glass box that a bear does his business in the woods. If he does not use this brand, then he will have paper scraps left on his butt. His mother will use a lint brush to remove it. He at first would use a whole roll, but as he got older he learned to get by with a lot less. My life has been enriched by knowing all of this.
As I rode the belt to Grandpas' house the ground disappears again and the columns are the only way to navigate. It was a huge task to reach the swing under the giant pecan tree. When I reached the back porch, everyone disappeared. Uncle Buddy was gone a long time ago, then Grandpa, then Grannie and now dad. Who is next? Then I saw that old demon sneaking around. I had not seen him for a while, but he was always around, worrying the shit out of me, always in my mind. Some days I was strong and others I was not. What did he want? Leave me alone, go away. I had a plan to draw him in. I would drink to fool him, I would spin the chamber to entice him closer. I would cock the hammer to get him drunk. I would put the barrel to my temple to make him giddy. I did not look, but his foul oder got closer. He was giggling and the stink was so close that I could taste it. As he lost control, I spun around and shot him dead between his evil eyes. Freaking idiot, that damn fox squirrel was the demon.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Friday, May 20, 2011
Baling Hay
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
E-Bob-a-Ho: Part Two
This follows on from part one.
Bob was a typical little boy. Curious about all things, he would stick his nose everywhere, causing him and myself a lot of pain. I still had some finishing touches around the barn and he helped me. He matched my every step. If I held a board up and started to nail it, he would put his nose on the nail. I banged my thumb so many times because of this, that I lost my thumbnail. When I would scream, he would turn, buck, throw his tail up high and run off at breakneck speed. When he saw that I was not chasing him, he would sheepishly walk back.
I did not know a great deal about horses when he was born and it is amazing that I or my family did not get hurt; just good horses I guess. When he was a couple of months old, I thought that he might need to be introduced to a halter. That was a frustrating time. If he were standing he would run off, if he were laying down he would not let me anywhere near his head. Don Lisenby was an old horse trader that came by every so often. I had bought a couple of horses from him and we had become friends. One day he was at the barn and I asked him how to halter Bob. Without answering, he looked at the horse, took the halter and walked over to Bob. Bob looked at Don and just stuck his head in the halter pretty as you please. If I would have had my handgun, I would have shot both of them.
Now that I had a little control over him, I would let him go on trail rides with us. That was something that he really enjoyed. He would run off from us on the trail, into the woods. I am sure that he must have felt all grown up. All of a sudden an owl would hoot or a coyote would yelp and he would make a bee line back to us, bulldozing his way through the privets and bramble bushes.
Sheila rode Honey Babe, a registered Tennessee Walker. Honey Babe was probably the perfect horse as far as temperament goes. Nothing ever shocked her and she was always calm, except for this Saturday. I had Major, Honey Babe and Princess tied in the trailer. Bob was at the rear of the trailer, but not tied up. Sheila looked at the trailer and said, "I am not going to ride Honey Babe today!" That caused me to look and I saw Honey Babe shaking her head violently, whinnying and stomping her feet. That was totally out of character for her. I walked over and looked into the trailer. Bob was sticking his head under Princess' stomach and biting Honey Babe on the hind quarters. Major and Princess were calm and cool as cucumbers.
Most times when a horse is approached, you can tell what kind of mood they are in by the position of their ears. Forward they are alert and curious, midway and they could care less. All the way back and they are pissed off. Not so with Bob. As mischievous as he was, when he approached the other horses, they would lay their ears all the way back to Georgia. Being the only youngster there, he thought that laid back ears was the normal greeting.
I enjoyed playing pranks on the horses. Sheila had a two feet by three feet mirror that she had discarded. That seemed like the perfect prank. I held it up to Major's face. Startled, his ears went back, the horse in the mirror laid his ears back and Major backed up suddenly. As he backed up his ears went forward. The horse in the mirror put his ears forward, at that Major moved forward toward the mirror again. As he got closer his ears went back, as did the horse in the mirror. That was more than Major could handle and he hauled butt out of the barn. That was too much fun. Did I mention that I was outside the stall? Now I had to go scare Bob with the mirror. Mistake number one, I was in the pasture with him. Mistake number two, I showed him his reflection in the mirror. He did not like what he saw, turned on a dime and kicked his hind legs at the the mirror, which I was holding. I dropped the mirror and ducked under his back legs. Sheila and the girls were rolling in the dirt laughing at me. I grabbed up the broken mirror, tucked my tail and walked back to the barn.
Princess was not immune to these pranks. She was the classic stuck up snob. What am I doing here with you riff-raff?, was her attitude. I have owned her for over Twenty years and can just now put my hands on her without her flinching. One thing about her is that she is an above average intelligent horse. Which made my scaring her all the more fun. I feed them twice a day. She loves to eat and knows when I am going to feed them. This particular afternoon I got to the barn early without the horses seeing me. I hid behind the corner of the barn and I could hear them coming. Princess was always in the lead. As she rounded the corner, I stepped out and yelled. It startled her so badly that she turned too quickly and fell to the ground. Both of us could hear the other horses laughing at her. That embarrassed her so much that she was pissed off with me for a week. She did not even look at me for a few days. It was so much fun though, that every chance I got, I would do it again.
Bob was a typical little boy. Curious about all things, he would stick his nose everywhere, causing him and myself a lot of pain. I still had some finishing touches around the barn and he helped me. He matched my every step. If I held a board up and started to nail it, he would put his nose on the nail. I banged my thumb so many times because of this, that I lost my thumbnail. When I would scream, he would turn, buck, throw his tail up high and run off at breakneck speed. When he saw that I was not chasing him, he would sheepishly walk back.
I did not know a great deal about horses when he was born and it is amazing that I or my family did not get hurt; just good horses I guess. When he was a couple of months old, I thought that he might need to be introduced to a halter. That was a frustrating time. If he were standing he would run off, if he were laying down he would not let me anywhere near his head. Don Lisenby was an old horse trader that came by every so often. I had bought a couple of horses from him and we had become friends. One day he was at the barn and I asked him how to halter Bob. Without answering, he looked at the horse, took the halter and walked over to Bob. Bob looked at Don and just stuck his head in the halter pretty as you please. If I would have had my handgun, I would have shot both of them.
Now that I had a little control over him, I would let him go on trail rides with us. That was something that he really enjoyed. He would run off from us on the trail, into the woods. I am sure that he must have felt all grown up. All of a sudden an owl would hoot or a coyote would yelp and he would make a bee line back to us, bulldozing his way through the privets and bramble bushes.
Sheila rode Honey Babe, a registered Tennessee Walker. Honey Babe was probably the perfect horse as far as temperament goes. Nothing ever shocked her and she was always calm, except for this Saturday. I had Major, Honey Babe and Princess tied in the trailer. Bob was at the rear of the trailer, but not tied up. Sheila looked at the trailer and said, "I am not going to ride Honey Babe today!" That caused me to look and I saw Honey Babe shaking her head violently, whinnying and stomping her feet. That was totally out of character for her. I walked over and looked into the trailer. Bob was sticking his head under Princess' stomach and biting Honey Babe on the hind quarters. Major and Princess were calm and cool as cucumbers.
Most times when a horse is approached, you can tell what kind of mood they are in by the position of their ears. Forward they are alert and curious, midway and they could care less. All the way back and they are pissed off. Not so with Bob. As mischievous as he was, when he approached the other horses, they would lay their ears all the way back to Georgia. Being the only youngster there, he thought that laid back ears was the normal greeting.
I enjoyed playing pranks on the horses. Sheila had a two feet by three feet mirror that she had discarded. That seemed like the perfect prank. I held it up to Major's face. Startled, his ears went back, the horse in the mirror laid his ears back and Major backed up suddenly. As he backed up his ears went forward. The horse in the mirror put his ears forward, at that Major moved forward toward the mirror again. As he got closer his ears went back, as did the horse in the mirror. That was more than Major could handle and he hauled butt out of the barn. That was too much fun. Did I mention that I was outside the stall? Now I had to go scare Bob with the mirror. Mistake number one, I was in the pasture with him. Mistake number two, I showed him his reflection in the mirror. He did not like what he saw, turned on a dime and kicked his hind legs at the the mirror, which I was holding. I dropped the mirror and ducked under his back legs. Sheila and the girls were rolling in the dirt laughing at me. I grabbed up the broken mirror, tucked my tail and walked back to the barn.
Princess was not immune to these pranks. She was the classic stuck up snob. What am I doing here with you riff-raff?, was her attitude. I have owned her for over Twenty years and can just now put my hands on her without her flinching. One thing about her is that she is an above average intelligent horse. Which made my scaring her all the more fun. I feed them twice a day. She loves to eat and knows when I am going to feed them. This particular afternoon I got to the barn early without the horses seeing me. I hid behind the corner of the barn and I could hear them coming. Princess was always in the lead. As she rounded the corner, I stepped out and yelled. It startled her so badly that she turned too quickly and fell to the ground. Both of us could hear the other horses laughing at her. That embarrassed her so much that she was pissed off with me for a week. She did not even look at me for a few days. It was so much fun though, that every chance I got, I would do it again.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
First National
Horse
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