Tag Archives: horses

Random snippets.



Our neighbors. The larger horse is an absolute bully and follows closely behind the pony nipping his butt all day long.



I keep rooting for the little guy to give him a good swift kick, but clearly he’s a pacifist.



A recently purchased tee shirt. I can never resist a funny brewery slogan, but when I researched this one I discovered it just sells equipment. No matter, it’s still beer related.



The look your cat gives you when you don’t share your chicken salad sandwich.

Sorry Dudley, it had onions. I couldn’t.



Since turning 50? This is the story of my life.


The spirit of Christmas… Maine style.


A friend of mine shared an experience recently and it made my heart swell. Not in the ‘omg I knew I shouldn’t have eaten so much fettuccine Alfredo’ way … but in the ‘there are still good people in the world’ way.



That’s her in front, leading a group of Christmas carolers on horseback. They were on their way to bring some holiday cheer to a local nursing facility and veterans home.



Santa was there.



And she said the smiles on the resident’s faces when they met the horses were priceless.



Everyone got to pet a horse.



Even the residents who couldn’t leave their rooms.



I don’t own or even know how to ride a horse, but I’m tempted to ask if I can join them next year.

If nothing else, I can sing off key with the best of them.



Whipple what…?


Upon leaving the distillery, I spotted a sign.



And seeing that we had nowhere pressing to be, we headed for the woods.



Or rather a house in the woods, up a steep driveway, to what looked like a converted garage.



The fact that it was filled with antique radios…



And vintage wooden snowshoe molds made my other half feel right at home.

We were warmly greeted, offered a plush seat at the bar and handed a sampling menu.



For a small batch home spun winery, they had a large list and we each chose 5.



Since vineyard grapes don’t grow in Maine (too cold dontcha know) the wines were heavily fruited alternatively. Apples, cranberries, pears, blueberries… even a coconut lime that I had to try even though I knew it would be awful.

No surprise – it was.

There were one or two that were tasty, but I have a hard time taking a winery seriously when they offer PB&J. 🤢



And oh… if you were wondering how the place got its name, or what in the actual Hell a whipple is?

Here’s a hint: they made a lamp out of one and now my husband wants to make his own for over the new pool table.



“Whippletrees are used in tension to distribute forces from a point load to the traces of draught animals(the traces are the chains or straps on each side of the harness, on which the animal pulls). For these, the whippletree consists of a loose horizontal bar between the draught animal and its load. The centre of the bar is connected to the load, and the traces attach to its ends. Whippletrees are used especially when pulling a dragged load such as a plough, harrow, log or canal boat or for pulling a vehicle (by the leaders in a team with more than one row of animals).”

And yes… of course my husband owns three of them, even though he’s never had a horse, ox or donkey.


Let me give you the lay of the land….


We drove a little over an hour west to reach our friend’s house for the Christmas in July party I mentioned last week. And when we left our town, the weather was not cooperating.



Thankfully it was drier in her neck of the woods and let me tell you, the property she recently purchased definitely qualifies as out of the way.



After a long ride on a bumpy dirt road, her place came into view.




As you can see, her main reason for buying this place was ample room for horses.

The house is a bit odd. It looks large, but isn’t…. with a surprisingly small kitchen and bedrooms.



Numerous outbuildings are scattered around, as are decks and staircases.



One of which….



Lead to goats. Boots, Buckles and Gypsy to be precise.

Did I mention there’s a pool?



To be continued…


Colonial Williamsburg…. the Apothecary Shop, the Capitol and the Gaol.


Still strolling Duke of Gloucester Street, we found the apothecary shop and it’s mistress in the middle of recounting some 18th century cures.




Trust me when I say you should be glad you weren’t sick in the 18th century.




Many towns and villages didn’t have doctors and these pseudo pharmacists were as close to modern medicine as many people could get.




There were some interesting drawings….




And a back room were the cures were administered. Though why that fellow in the corner needs a hat, I’m sure I don’t know…

Next up was the reconstructed Capitol building.




The birthplace of American government if you will.




The flag flying at the entrance meant it was open for tours…




So we settled in to wait for the guide.




With the husband admiring the rather odd gutterless drainage system.




Which was really more of a moat.




If you’re interested, the history of the Capitol is here.  I’ll spare you the retelling and just post a few interior shots.




Local representatives met here, first to report to the crown….and then to form a new government.




The speaker had a throne… make of that what you will.




Here are the rooms our founding fathers formed the basis of the country we know today.




One can only imagine how they’d react to our current state of affairs.



I’d say that’s pretty close.




There was also a court where grievances and victims of crimes were given justice.




To me, the nicest part of the tour was when our guide proudly told us that he had helped officiate over the swearing in of 250 new American citizens on that day…. a 300 year old tradition lovingly continued on site.




Leaving the Capitol, we found the gaol, pronounced jail.




Which didn’t look too bad at first.




Until I realized that wasn’t the gaol.




The history of the gaol is here.




Many men and women were held here awaiting trial, and it doesn’t look like that would have been too comfortable.




The cells reminded me of horse stables.




And yes…




That is what you think it is.




Minus Mr. Whipple and his Charmin.




(We’ll visit the Public Hospital… read, lunatic asylum... another day)




The sound of that large door slamming shut?

Perfectly eerie.

The administration office was much nicer.




And it’s natural wreaths, nicer still.




All it needed was…




The clip clop of the carriage horses hooves to remind me how we could have been traveling.

Bad husband.











Colonial Williamsburg… Duke of Gloucester Street


Done with the Governor’s Palace, we headed to the main thoroughfare.




Colonial Williamsburg is a town, like any other.




If all the other towns were full of beautifully restored 18th century historic buildings that is.




George Wythe was Thomas Jefferson’s mentor.

So, you know…. that kind of town.




At the corner? The Bruton Parish Church, established in 1674…..




Still an active Presbyterian presence…




You can almost see George Washington walking amongst the stately old live oaks.

(Yes, he worshiped here.)




Taking a left put us on Duke of Gloucester Street, the busiest section of town.




Every house and business was decked out for Christmas….




With the traditional natural fruit and greenery it’s become famous for.

Another carriage made it’s way by….




And as much as I wanted to take one…. the husband had no interest whatsoever.





I mean, look at them…

They were just waiting for me to climb aboard.



But no. The husband had caught sight of this:




And that was where we went next.




Yay. More weapons…




Okay, the collection was impressive as hell.




And filled with various painful ways to kill people.




And yes…




The armory fellow was well versed and full of interesting facts.




But… but…








Are cuter than cannons any ole day.

And you can’t ride a cannon.

(Or maybe you can… but you probably shouldn’t.)




Next up was lunch at Chowning’s Tavern, where it’s wreath spoke volumes.




A reconstructed public house Josiah Chowning operated in 1766…




The menu of Brunswick Stew, Shepherd’s Pye and Welsh Rarebit reflected the fare of the day.




I opted for the hot smoked turkey trencher which was marvelous…. while the husband continued his French Onion soup trend.

Rum cake?




Don’t mind if I do.

Light, rummy and utterly fabulous.




Hot tea and mixed berry crumble for the other half.




Which to be honest, was so God awful sweet he could hardly eat it.

( Lunch photos just for you Martin.)



Colonial Williamsburg…the Governor’s Palace tour.


Finished with out outdoor stroll….




We headed for the interior tour…




Of the Colonial Seat of English rule in early Virginia.




Our guide led us inside…




Where we were immediately surrounded by a large numbers of weapons.









I won’t bore you with the long history of the place, if you’re interested…. take a peek here.

I’ll just point out that it was home to the Royal Governor pre revolution, and numerous Virginia Governors like Patrick Henry and Thomas Jefferson post revolution.




It was an impressive place.




With an impressive wood stove.




Amazing decorative detail….




And some pretty brightly colored walls.




There was even a separate room for men to powder their wigs.

Maybe that’s what’s wrong with politics today…

Not enough wigs.




The beds were elaborate.




But the only thing I thought of when I saw the red room…




Complete with fancy dress crib to show off the progeny?




Was this:



It’s in there Rosemary….




Grab your knife.

(Sorry, but I saw that movie when I was 9 and it still creeps the hell out of me)

The final part of the tour was self guided.




And led us around back…




To the cellar.




Which was basically a whole lotta barrels…




And a whole lotta wine….




So… that done, we emerged.




And caught a charming scene.




A horse drawn carriage.




Adding a little something to the atmosphere of days gone by.

As well as making us watch where we walked… because, well. Horse diapers hadn’t been invented yet.

And yes… they do exist.

Pampers for Mr. Ed



I love my town… Part 3.






For once, our small town’s Facebook page rose above the petty gossip and backstabbing and actually came in handy. Last night, along with the usual lost pig notices… there was a report of a dump truck flipping over, taking out a power line and closing the main road. This was helpful since my husband’s car had overheated and left him stranded on I-295. Knowing about the closure in advance saved me taking the out of the way detour.

Of course the page also had some other gems.




Rent a goat! There’s a start up sure to make a fortune.

Heck, they love to eat…



Are easy to transport….



And give great back massages.



How could you lose?

Then there was this:




Someone wants to cook pie for me?

That can’t be bad.




And finally, there was this heartfelt thank you note…




Moral of that story?

If you live in the country, always carry carrots and apples.




Okay, well….

There’s no correct amount of produce for that.


There’s a first time for everything.


Last month? It was my first time at a barrel racing competition.

If you know me, you know I’m not the yeehaw rodeo girl type. I don’t do twangy Grand Old Opry music and I’ve never owned a pair of cowboy boots. But the sister of a friend…. who is 53 and recently went through a bad breakup…. did what any lonely single woman does at that age.

She got a horse.




To be precise, she rescued a 17 year old horse who was being neglected and half starved at a highly suspect stable.

It’s been a long slow road back to health, but their bond is strong.




And in just 2 years she’s learned not only how to ride, but how to barrel ride and compete…. so we had to show up in support.




Horses and horse trailers lined the field.




And this darling little fellow who lives at the neighboring farm strolled the grounds looking for handouts and treats.

Clearly I wasn’t the only one who thought he was sweet. This man followed him around with a GoPro and went in for a serious close up.





The event was late in starting…




But her horse was chill… and took a nap.




Our dinner reservations were for 7:15 and the normal competition schedule was switched to let the children’s division go first….. so we only got to see one round with our friend.

She’s still learning, and her horse is still underweight… but she’s getting there.



The bleachers crowd went wild!



Okay, not exactly.




There was one bleacher, and the crowd consisted of one family with a screaming child …. but the 4 legged beggar who found some spilled popcorn looked excited.

Still, it was fun….and we hope to go again when we can stay longer.

Although from the decibel level and type of  music that plays constantly in the background?

I might need a cooler full of alcohol next time.




Yes, I thought you might….






Who knew?


I did,  because…




Did you know…

The phrase “hands down”  (as in “He won that game hands down.”)  was first used in the 19th century to describe a horse racing victory? It signified the jockey was so far ahead he could drop the reins and relax his arms.



Well, not quite.


Did you know….

Bruno Mars played an Elvis impersonator as a child in the 1992 film Honeymoon in Vegas?

It’s true.






Did you know….

Mosquito repellants do not repel, they hide.

The spray blocks a mosquito’s sensors so they don’t even know you’re there.




Did you know…

During WWII, America tried to train bats to drop bombs.

Silly Americans, what were we thinking?

Bats won’t even play fetch.




Did you know….

The Roman emperor Caligula made his horse a Senator.

Maybe we should try this….

It can’t be any worse.





Did you know…

The Bible has been translated into Klingon?



Well, you do now.