Trash Day

Sooner or later, if you maintain an acreage property along a busy road, you get to knock off the inglorious task of trash patrol. It isn't fair and it isn't right, but some folks just seem predisposed toward littering.

Over the years I've found a wide assortment of items. There's the old standards like beer and pop cans and the less frequent items like womens' undies and a full set of men's clothes.

At the base of the power poles, there's always a lot of shattered wine and beer bottles -- debris from some sort of high speed game where the participants hurl empty beverage containers from a fast moving vehicle. The high point must go to the joker who hits the power pole.

There are cigarette packs, too, and cigarette butts -- God help us if one ever starts a range fire. Nails and washers must rattle off construction vehicles, bouncing along the asphalt until they land at the edge of Sweetgrass.

Some items have been keepers, like the huge quartz crystal we scored following a big concert up the road. The event drew people from as far away and New York and Florida -- tie-dyed, sandal-footed, dreadlocked, crystal-packing young 'uns. Occasionally, I can hardly believe my good fortune. Like the time I found a perfect intact crystal glass, one I now use as a vase.

So this morning, my friend, Eric Robles, and I set out to patrol one of the Sweetgrass borders. We were in search of trash and a story. The road did not disappoint.

Our first stop netted an entire bag of tortilla chips (mostly uneaten), two empty cigarette packs, one Marlboro and one Camel, a Sprite pop can, and lots of cigarette butts. As Eric and I bantered back and forth, we began to contruct a profile of the person who had left us their trash.

Further up the road, there was a towel, lots of broken glass, an empty take out box, the remains of a fast food barbecue sauce, various pieces and parts of things mechanical, a sticker package, and some rusted out poultry fencing.

"She's a tortilla-eating, cigarette smoking, bad-to-the-bone granny who dies her hair red using Kool-Aid," I said.

"Yeah, and she likes to dip her tortilla chips in barbecue sauce," Eric added.

"She speeds past Sweetgrass on a motorbike and throw her empties at the power pole."

"The bike has lost a part or two and is decorated with spike-collard Chihuahua stickers. Granny wears black rubber gaskets for rings on her fingers."

"What do you think her name is?"

"I don't know."

"It's gotta be Gert. Gert keeps killer turkeys behind rusted bit of this old poultry fencing."

Trash day. A day where the inglorious task of picking up litter takes on a whole new life.

Earlier this evening, my husband and I did a drive by of a horse property that sold recently. Our realtor had asked us to swing by and see if we would be happy with a similar property.

As it turned out, there was a woman power washing the arena and that was about all we could see of the property from the road. We didn't want to be intrusive, so we kept driving.

Not far up the road, we saw a herd of Golden Limousin cows and their calves. Those cattle were so darn pretty that I actually turned the car around and went back for a second look. It's not often that I see cattle as sleek and well cared for as mine, and I always admire a fine specimen of any breed.

Standing on the side of the road, I got to thinking about the phrase "till the cows come home." Where did it come frome? What does it mean? How long have people been using it?

So, I snapped a photo of the cattle as they moseyed across a pasture aglow with evening light. Tonight, I did a little research and here's what I found about the phrase "till the cows come home" courtesy of The Phrase Finder, a wonderful UK web site:

Till the cows come home

Meaning

For a long but indefinite time.

Origin

Cows are notoriously languid creatures and make their way home at their own unhurried pace. That's certainly the imagery behind 'till the cows come home' or 'until the cows come home', but the precise time and place of the coining of this colloquial phrase isn't known. It was certainly before 1829 though, and may well have been in Scotland. The phrase appeared in print in The Times in January that year, when the paper reported a suggestion of what the Duke of Wellington should do if he wanted to maintain a place as a minister in Peel's cabinet:

If the Duke will but do what he unquestionably can do, and propose a Catholic Bill with securities, he may be Minister, as they say in Scotland "until the cows come home."

Groucho Marx was never one to pass up an opportunity for a play on words and this occurs in his dialogue of the 1933 film Duck Soup:

"I could dance with you till the cows come home. Better still, I'll dance with the cows and you come home."

Goodnight, Sweetgrass Ranch

Last night was very warm, a tip-off to the ninety degree day to come.  I snapped this ultra quiet photo after my hubby and I had met with our realtor to discuss listing Sweetgrass.

We love it here -- this place has grown into every corner of our being.  To us, Sweetgrass is a living, breathing entity.  It's a magic space, the kind of home everyone should have a chance to have at least once.  Our time has come and now, it's someone else's turn.

Our plan is to downsize the square footage on our house and upsize the horse and cattle facilities and pastures.  It's an ambitious project, one that may take a year or more.  For now, I'm enjoying the view from the ranch house deck.

The Search for Jetblue's Hay -- Understanding Carbohydrate and Starch Levels

There's more to hay than meets the eye. Just ask anyone with a laminitic, insulin-resistant, or EPSM horse and they'll tell you that you need to find a hay that's low in carbohydrates and starches.

In my case, I'm searching for the perfect hay for Jetblue, my two year-old blue roan filly. As a yearling, Jetblue experienced seven or eight colics ranging from mild to major. Then, this past January, the big one hit. On the advice of Dr. Barb Crabbe, I rushed Jetblue to Oregon State University, where she underwent emergency surgery for a displaced colon.

Jetblue's recovery was textbook and her surgeon, Dr. Jill Parker, saw nothing to indicate a systemic problem. A few months back, when Jetblue again began to experience mild colics, I didn't mess around -- I asked the experts for help. With Dr. Parker's advice and that of Dr. Steve Vredenberg and Dr. Jennifer Posey, I modified Jetblue's diet, supplements, worming, and exercise routine:

1. Jetblue's orchard grass hay is soaked for 1 hour and fed in two portions -- soaking reduces the carbohydrate level of hay by as much as 30%
2. Jetblue receives soaked Purina Wellsolve L/S as her primary grain -- Wellsolve is a low carb, low starch, high fiber complete feed -- along with soaked beet pulp, a blend of canola, olive, and sunflower oils, and Horse Guard vitamins
3. Jetblue gets out on pasture for one or two hours daily, usually mornings because grass carb levels are lowest in the morning
4. Jetblue's diet includes a dose of the daily pelleted wormer, Strongid
5. Jetblue has completed one three-week course of Sand Clear and will commence another three-week course tomorrow
6. Without fail, Jetblue is exercised -- ponied or lunged -- every day to help keep her system moving

So far, we've been incredibly blessed. Jetblue seems to be holding steady and there hasn't been any more colic episodes. I've been using this interim time to read and learn everything I can with respect to carbohydrates and starches in hay -- I want to help my filly. Honestly, there's way more to know about hay than I ever dreamed possible.

For example, most cold climate grasses -- like those grown in Oregon -- are higher in carbs and starches while native grasses and those grown in warmer climates typically have lower levels. The thermal swings or stresses applied to grass at time of harvest, whether the hay was rained on prior to bailing, and the actual time of harvest -- sugar levels tend to spike in the afternoon -- play a huge role in determining the carb and starch level of any given hay crop.

There's so much to know and, at times, I doubt my ability to sort it all out. For now, soaking Jetblue's orchard grass hay seems to be working just fine as I continue the quest to find her a low carb, low starch hay.

What Do You Do With a Broody Hen?

One of my Barnevelder hens has decided to go broody -- she's been sitting in the nest box all day, incubating eggs that are not fertile and will never hatch. For the past three days, I've had to reach up under her to collect eggs. Thankfully, the hen has been incredibly docile toward me.

This is a first for me, so I asked someone more knowledgeable than me, Chelsea Ibarra, for help. Chelsea is a great resource for me -- her response contained everything I needed to know and I've posted it below. Thanks, Chelsea! I'll be sure to keep a close eye on my broody hen.

Sue,

Broody chickens can go one of two ways: Sometimes if you keep taking their eggs away they will figure out that sitting on the nest is not going to do anything and they will get over it. OR, we have had hens that will just keep sitting on the nest until something hatches (but with un-fertalized eggs nothing ever will...) and they won't leave the nest to eat or drink, which is a big problem because they could survive that way for a while until some eggs hatch but if the eggs never do hatch you just have a chicken starving herself on a nest. If she is leaving the nest to eat and drink I wouldn't worry about it. If she is not you could try to put some food/ water near her to encourage her to eat. With our super broody hen we eventually purchased a couple chicks and snuck them under her late at night so that in the morning she just thought her chicks had "hatched." But if you give her baby chicks you have to make sure she is bold enough to keep the other chickens away from them since big chickens like to peck at the little ones.

Hope that helps.

Love,

Chelsea

Moving the Mason Bees Out of the Barn -- Don Borlaug Wows Us!

Veteran contractor Don Borlaug has worked for some impressive clients over the years, including Intel and Devonwood. This morning, he came to Sweetgrass, where his mission was the extraction and relocation of a feral Mason Bee colony living in our barn wall.

While Honey Bees are declining across much of the world, they are faring well here in Oregon along with their wild cousins. Hives are swarming -- doubling and splitting -- at two to three times the normal rate. This is a very good thing as crop productivity is closely tied to a healthy population of pollinators.

A few months ago, a swarm of wild or feral bees found its way into the northeast facing wall of our barn. They came in through a hole that had been drilled to accomodate an electric cord which runs to an electric fence charger in one of our horse paddocks. We tried using a commercial product, Bee Dun, to encourage the bees to move elsewhere, but it didn't work. That's when I decided to phone Don Borlaug.

First, Don assembled all his equipment on the tailgate of the BCI truck.  Then, he lit a small fire in his smoker and explained that our bees, on smelling smoke, would return to the hive to gorge on nectar. To a bee, smoke means fire and warrants taking flight. Before doing so, the bees must fuel up.

After setting the smoker near the cavity in the barn wall, Don suited up in his protective gear. Then, as he peeled a portion of the barn siding back, we got our first glimpse of the hive.

Suddenly, the angry bees poured out of the wall, surrounding Don.

Surprisingly, our bee hive was quite large, with ten distinct sections. The bees had been at work in the wall less than two months, yet they had created a masterpiece.

Don explained that bees store their capped honey reserves at the top of each section. Below the honey, there are open -- non-capped -- chambers filled with nectar and pollen. While honey has a infinite shelf-life, nectar does not. The bottom third or so of each section contained Mason Bee eggs, larvae, or pupae.

With the hive exposed, Don set up his equipment: a custom bee vacuum which held screened bee collection boxes, a ladder, a garbage bag for debris, and two white plastic containers -- one for honeycomb and one for the nectar and nursery sections.

While Don vacuumed bees into his collection boxes, he explained that the nursery sections of the hive could easily be incorporated into other existing hives.

"The bees in the new hive will raise the young as their own," Don told us.

A natural teacher, Don casually explained the life cycle and habits of Mason Bees as he worked, stopping to show us a newly emerged bee...

... and a larger, stingerless male or "drone" bee.

The hive itself was as impressive as it was beautiful, with perfect geometries and the mass of undulating, humming bees.

As we watched, Don systematically vacuumed each section and then cut away the nectar and nursery portion.

Any remaining bees were whisked away into the waiting collection box.

As he worked, nectar and honey dripped freely from Don's gloved hands.

When done, Don gently laid the honeycomb with bee larvae in one of the white containers and then proceeded to cut away the top, honey-bearing portion of the comb. From this he pared out a small section which contained propolis -- the highly prized resin from various plants -- and offered it to us to taste. It was... HEAVENLY.

It took three-and-a-half hours of methodic work on Don's part to remove most of our hive and in that time, he truly WOWED us with his knowledge, skill, and patience. Our bees left in the BCI truck this afternoon, bound for one of Don's hives at his place on Bald Peak.

As of this writing, there are still two or three hundred "orphan" bees clustered on the side of the barn. Tomorrow morning, Don Borlaug will come vacuum them into a collection box. Then, he'll seal the barn wall back up.

There will likely be no more bees in the Sweetgrass Ranch barn, but we sure hope you give Don a call if you need some expert help. He can be reached at 503-810-7106.

Goodnight, Sweetgrass Ranch

My Hope for Jetblue: A Good Life, One Free of Colic

Every person that comes to Sweetgrass is drawn to my blue roan filly, Jetblue, and she to them.

Writer Janet Herring-Sherman with Jetblue

Raising Jetblue hasn't been easy. As a long yearling, Jetblue experienced multiple mild colics, each one becoming bigger. Then, in January, the big one hit and we had to rush Jetblue to Oregon State University's Veterinary Teaching Hospital for colic surgery.

Since then, Jetblue has experienced three additional colics. Each one was manageable, but incredibly worrisome. After the second colic, I began consulting with my veterinarians and Jetblue's OSU surgeon, Dr. Jill Parker.

While information was flowing back and forth, I did some extensive Internet reading. Instinctively, I went to soaking Jetblue's hay for an hour prior to feeding and giving her half portions spread out over about an hour. Thinking it might be best, I dropped any type of grain or feed from her twice daily meals, leaving a bland diet of beet pulp and horse vitamins. In my mind, soaked beet pulp has many advantages -- low starch and low sugar, high fiber, and lots of extra fluid if you use lots of water.

Since exercise is key to keeping a horse's digestive system working correctly, Jetblue is lunged or ponied daily.

Dr. Steve Vredenberg of Banks Veterinary Service suggested a three week course of psyllium and using a daily wormer. Dr. Jennifer Posey agreed that a low dose of daily wormer might be a good idea.

A message from Dr. Parker assured me that Jetblue had shown no signs of metabolic issues during her stay at OSU. She advised putting Jetblue on a low bulk (reduced hay intake) diet paired with a low carbohydrate, low starch complete feed like Purina Wellness.

Interestingly, soaking hay in cold water for an hour can reduce carbohydrate levels by as much as thirty percent. It seems that I had already moved toward reducing Jetblues carbohydrate intake -- AMAZING!

For now, Jetblue remains on her soaked hay, beet pulp, vitamins, and psyllium. Tomorrow, we'll try reducing her hay a bit and introducing a small serving of Wellness. If all goes as hoped, we'll gradually increase the level of Wellness.

More than anything, I want Jeblue to have a good life -- one free of colic. Please keep Jetblue in your prayers for a good outcome this next week. I'll keep you posted.

Water Training at Willamette Mission State Park

I always work at improving my horse's abilities and trust in me. Here in Oregon, we're blessed to have some amazing state parks with incredible horse trails and truly awesome training opportunities. Most summers, I'm able to haul horses out weekly.

Last Friday, Lorenzo helped me take Drifty, Irish, and Jetblue to Willamette Mission State Park. With its wide, relatively flat trails, Willamette Misison is a wonderful place to pony colts or for firt time trail riders or trail horses to gain experience.

The horse trail meanders through woods, grasslands, and along a variety of farm fields. At one point, riders skirt the Willamette River before cutting back along a type of slough area. It's here that we always get some water training done.

Come watch Lorenzo and Irish in action: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TqbGp3XIkBA

"Mooving" Day at Sweetgrass, a BIG Slice of Heaven

Last Wednesday was a big slice of heaven. It was time to move the Charolais cattle back to the lower pastures and combine them with the two Black Angus heifers. Our bull calf, Tip, was born in the upper pastures and has always lived there, so the logistics of moving a cow calf pair had us a little concerned. As it turned out, there was no need to worry.

Lorenzo and Drifty did an awesome job of showing Tip the rope -- quite literally.

    

There was no drama, just a lot of patience and love. And yes, we lead our cattle with a rope tied to their halters. By the time the trio hit the lower pasture gate, Tip was following along like a big puppy.

The move went so well, we decided to go get Irish and do a little bit of cattle and rope training.

Irish did great and Tip was out-of-this-world awesome. We were on a roll, so we grabbed Jetblue and headed on back to the lower pastures. At first, the filly was nervous. It didn't take her long to warm up to Tip, though, and after the duo touched noses, Jetblue totally relaxed.
                   

We untied the Charolais cattle and before we let Tip go, Lorenzo gave the bull calf a well deserved scratch.

Then, Lorenzo and Irish ponied Jetblue up and down the cow pasture. Since we had introduced Jetblue to our cattle slowly, she was very calm.
                   

    

It was an amazing day, a big, BIG slice of HEAVEN!

To listen to New Zealand muscian Dave Dobbyn's song "Slice of Heaven," click on this link. It'll make you smile.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M0pWejAnLUQ

Beauty and "Bad" Moths

A multitude of white moths adorned the brick facing around my garage this past week. They were joined by a lone golden moth, one with two small white spots on its wings. I haven't identified either moth species, but I'm guessing their larval forms -- caterpillars -- are pests. Beauty graces many things in this life, including "bad" moths.

Barn Swallow Fledglings

Every year, the Barn Swallows return to Sweetgrass. Their arrival seems to coincide with an uptick in pesky flies, making the voracious, iridescent rust and blue swallows a welcome sight.

Initially, the birds seems to work non-stop, collecting mud, straw, hay, and other tidbits used to fabricate sturdy nests in the upper reaches of the horse loafing sheds. The horses never seem to mind.
Before long, we're hearing the peeps of hatchlings. The parent birds shift into an even higher gear as they field food for their babies.

Though tiny, Barn Swallows can be "hell on wheels" when it comes to defending their young. Lately, the acrobatic birds have been dive bombing my ten-pound Rat Terrier/Miniature Pinscher pup, Sprite. Since Sprite fits the general size and shape of most felines, I suppose the swallows aren't taking any chances...

It's no wonder. The Barn Swallow nestlings, drab little creatures with remnant down, have just now begun to fledge. They are testing their wings on short flights between their nest and the loafing shed tresses. Before long, they'll be soaring with their parents.

Our first year at Sweetgrass, we had one pair of Barn Swallows. This year, there are three pairs. I like to imagine they are all related, that some of the birds nesting here were also birthed in our loafing sheds.

Goodnight, Sweetgrass Ranch

Hot days often produce the loveliest sunsets, especially one that are accompanied by some interesting clouds.  Last Sunday was one of those days, a real cooker that gave way to a cool breeze and an amazing dusk. Enjoy the view!

Jetblue's First Trail Ride Under Saddle

Last Friday, Lorenzo and I took Drifty, Irish, and Jetblue to Willamette Mission State Park just north of Salem. It's a wonderful place to pony a filly or colt -- wide, safe and relatively flat trails that wind through woods, farm fields, and along the Willamette River.
Jetblue did awesome -- her quiet, easygoing attitude made for a truly enjoyable ride. She even waded right into chest deep water, although she wanted to roll while there!

 

Willamette Mission is a fabulous place to see a lot of birds. We were only there three hours, but we saw Bald Eagles, Osprey, Blue Herons, Turkey Vultures and many other winged wonders.

We are continuing to learn more about how to balance Jetblue's diet and exercise to avoid future colic episodes. For now, she's doing well and we're optimistic. More later.

A North Plains Fourth

Everyone loves a parade and the one held in the nearby town of North Plains this afternoon was well attended.

It had to be one of the world's shortest parades -- the local police chief, scout troops, a restaurant or two, people walking their dogs, clowns, the North Plains Garlic Festival Queen, some classic cars, a huge dump truck from Recology, a nearby recycling and composting business, and a few more I can't recall.

Most of the folks in the parade were tossing candy to the crowd, but one enterprising dentist in a hot rod actually threw small tubes of toothpaste. That had me smiling...

This young fellow caught my eye. With that wave, he's well on his way to becoming the mayor one day!

"Leadership involves finding a parade and getting in front of it." ~John Naisbitt

Sprite On the Mend

Last Thursday, my Rat Terrier/Miniature Pinscher pup, Sprite, became ill. For a while, we thought she may have ingested some antifreeze that had leaked from my daughter's car.

Thankfully, that wasn't the case. Since that event, we've been gradually returning Sprite to her regular diet. For now, she's alert and bright and definitely on the mend.

Wearing the Rope, Tip's Path to Becoming Halter-Broke

Our Charolais/Black Angus bull calf, Tip, will be wearing his halter for the next week or so. In doing so, he'll halter-break himself.

Tip has already learned to avoid stepping on the lead rope and, by early next week, we should be able to lead Tip, Daisy, and Tad back down to the lower pastures. There, they'll reunite with the Black Angus heifers, Libbey and Tove.

You may recall that Libbey had sprouted a case of bovine warts a few months ago. With the help of Banks Veterinary Service, we've been able to give those warts the boot. YAHOO!

Rainbow Over Sweetgrass

Early this morning, there was an intensely colored double rainbow spanning the sky over the lower pastures. I zipped back into the house to snag my camera, but all that remained of the double arcs was one brilliant stretch. It didn't matter, though. Just seeing that rainbow was enough -- it helped me set a positive intention for the day.

Rainbows always make me feel good. How do you respond to seeing a rainbow?

Visualizing New Sweetgrass

It's time. After six wonderful years, we're seriously thinking about downsizing. Kind of...

Our present location is one of those "dream come true" properties with a sweeping valley view. We've loved every moment of inhabiting this space.

The truth of the matter is simply this -- we would like more time to devote to the things we love. It's someone else's turn to love this quality Taylor Made home and the amazing Bob Fivecoat barn, paddocks, loafing sheds, pastures, covered lunging arena, and 100 x 200' all weather outdoor arena.

What will the new Sweetgrass Ranch look like? I'm visualizing a smaller, light and bright one level home. Something with three bedrooms and a couple of bathrooms. Greatrooms intrigue me, as do mudrooms!

The views will be pastoral, with twenty plus acres of gently sloped grazing land dotted with shade trees.

A stone's throw from the ranch house, there will be a large, covered arena with twelve to fifteen stalls that have indoor/outdoor runs. All the ammenities will be there: a wash rack, cross-tie bays, feed and tack rooms, a kitchen and bathroom, and a horse laundry.

The arena is well lit; the footing a combination of sand and rubber pieces. There are auto-sprinklers overhead
.
Outside, there are big beautiful pastures with loafing sheds. In the distance, a small herd of cattle, twenty or so cows, graze peacefully. Tip, our Charolais/Black Angus bull calf has matured and he's keeping the ladies company. There's a cattle barn, too, a large structure to break the chilly north winter wind, a place for the cattle to get out of the weather.

I see miles and miles of trails with a couple of stream crossings and obstacles galore.

Best of all, the ranch is producing viable income, with 4-6 horse boarders and an annual yearling calf income of 10+K.

My hubby's commute is peaceful and short, giving him lots of time to play golf.

The sky is expansive, the sunsets glorious, and you can see the constellations at night. The view is ever changing, a drama punctuated by the colors and hues of every season.

New Sweetgrass, a place to enjoy all the things I love best.

Suspicious Hens

The three Barnevelder hens who live here at Sweetgrass know a good thing. When they see me coming, they cluck and coo and make endearing little I Love You sounds that tug at a person's heart strings.

Sucker that I am, my chicks get the best of the best when it comes to nutrition. Things like mealworms, sunflower seeds, raisens, oats, flax seeds, cracked corn, poultry feed, grit, oyster shell, vitamins, and all the leftover vegetables. Life at Sweetgrass is... sweet.

All my good care and concern is aptly rewarded with three speckled terra cotta colored eggs, each one a beauty. That's three eggs a day unless I send my husband to feed our hens. If the shadow of a man comes near the hen house, the game is up. There'll be one to no eggs on that day, my punishment for not executing the feeding myself.

Take out the camera and my cooing cuties elongate and become tall, suspicious hens. There is an audible shift, a knowing "Ohhhhhh...." Not "Oh, Oh!" Not "OH!" Just "Ohhhhhh...." as if someone has spilled the beans, revealing some great secret about old chickens and stew pots. Ohhhhhh...

Berry Time at Sweetgrass Ranch!

Cattle Sorting at the Silver Spade Ranch

This past Friday, Lorenzo and I tacked up Drifty and Irish, loaded them to the horse trailer, and headed to the Silver Spade Ranch just outside Banks, Oregon, for a cattle working clinic.
The goal was to expose our horses to herd work in a safe learning environment. Like most outings, there were other lessons, too.

As Silver Spade proprieter Nick Donohue was reviewing the clinic format, the cattle were brought into the arena. Behind the horses. Irish wheeled and commenced to bucking -- big, rolling motions that met my heavy handed corrections.

Nick hollered directions as riders and horses scrambled to get out of Irish's and my way. It wasn't pretty. At the end of my gelding's fit, I grinned at all the other riders and asked, "Who would like to be on my team?" No one volunteered.

To his credit, Nick recognized my nerves and worked to help ease them and my worries. He also set up several positive cattle encounters for Irish, laying an excellent foundation.

The biggest breakthrough came when Nick suggested that I work with his partner in crime, Jessie Donohue. It didn't take long for Jessie to size both me and Irish up. She pointed out some things I could do better and gave me an exercise created by master horseman Buck Brannaman, an exercise designed to get a horse's mind focused on the work at hand. I turned Irish's neck and head ninety degrees one way and did a quick shift in the other direction again and again and again until Irish was listening. It was simple, elegant, useful and brilliant.

Instead of trying to contain a thousand pound animal, I simply put Irish's energy to work. Best of all, the technique allowed me to ride through my gelding's nonsense without fear or anger or worry. If Irish misbehaved, we went directly to the exercise.

I'd like to say that Irish was angelic after our time with Jess, but it just isn't true. If Drifty and Lorenzo disappeared, my gelding screamed at the top of his lungs and began to egg beat and pranced. If the cattle were being moved, Irish balled up to buck.

"Turn him !" Jess hollered. "Now the other way! Again! Again! Again!"

And I did. Over and over and over and over.

Thank you, Nick and Jessie!

All Is Well, Thank Heavens!

It's Sunday night and all is well here at Sweetgrass.
 
This time last week, I was trotting my two plus year-old filly, Jetblue, up and down the asphalt drive. Earlier, when I'd gone to throw the p.m. hay, I noticed Jetblue kicking and nipping at her stomach, a sure sign of colic. It was a long, restless night; one that eventually turned out just fine, thank heavens!

Dr. Steve Vredenberg of Banks Veterinary Service suggested a couple of management changes that may help Jetblue. She's undergoing a week's worth of dietary psyllium therapy and she's also on a daily low dose wormer. So far -- knock on wood -- there's been no sign of colic.

Early Thursday morning, a coyote darted in front of my daughter, Rosie's, Honda. We're still not sure how the furry critter fared, but Rosie's car sustained some fairly major front end damage. Rosie was shaken, but thankfully not hurt. For now, the Honda is in the care of the capable, savvy hands of Kelly Meagher at All Terrain Auto Body.

Initially, we didn't realize that the Honda's radiator was cracked. It became a big concern later when one of our dogs, a cut little ten-pounder named Sprite, became incredibly ill. Since radiator fluid is a major cause of pet fatalities, we rushed Sprite to Tanasbourne Veterinary Emergency. There, Dr. Shawn Thomas eliminated anti-freeze poisoning. He also provided some dietary recommendations to help mend Sprite's gastrointestinal system. As of this hour, my pup is happily snuggling with me.

Life is again quiet and good. Thanks for your prayers and well wishes.