two-strides-out:

chase-me-charlie:

There is a difference between “ears pointed back toward the rider” and “pinned ears”.

!!!!

(via theenglishjumper)

Mastering YouTube?

Well, I finally managed to upload a Khyssie video on YouTube. (“Khyssie Loping”) It’s not artistic, it’s not even unusual, but it was a challenge to switch from a PC to a Mac and then tackle something that should have been simple like… posting a video to Youtube. (Go ahead, call me lame.) I’ve wanted to do this all along as I’ve taken you all through Khyssie’s training progress. The video was taken earlier this summer and it’s just a lunging exercise but this means I’m going to be able to add another element to my blog. Not just pictures and text, now I will be able to show you all what’s happening in video. 

Since this is a full-disclosure blog, I have to confess something. As I started training Khyssie I watched a lot of training videos and I saw so many nasty comments from viewers that I wasn’t sure I was ready for any negative feedback. But honestly, nobody is perfect, we can only learn through trial and error and help from those who are more experienced, and if people want to be ugly and critical, than I’ll just have to ignore that annoying bit. 

And to all of you techno-geniuses — you rock! 

If you like Nintendo or cats or other cool things, follow my daughter! She is very thirsty. witchandfamous

The Door

I don’t know, that door kinda just inspired me to write this (keep in mind I only wrote this in five minutes):

I found it poetic
When I came across and old door
It was a door on a run down building
With all the other abandoned
Houses on the street

But this door was different
It was old and dirty
Yet I found it poetic

Naturally
I’d be desperate to know
What was behind the
Mass of carelessly carved
Wood
With no windows to see
It hated to be looked through

I spoke about this door like it was
A living person
Or an old friend
Although I have only seen this door
For the first time
I found it poetic

I found it poetic how it hated
To have windows
It refused to show
What’s trapped inside

Maybe it’s nothing
I tell myself
But a door so delicate
Yet so broken
Managed to hold
And do it’s job
And hide
And I find it poetic

I find it poetic how
No one bothers to look at it
No one wonders
No one cares
No one knows
And it’ll always remain that way

We walk past it
Day by day
From dusk to dawn
And every time
I wonder
What’s it’s purpose
What was it destined to hide
To keep away from the world

And suddenly it dawned on me
Why this old and broken door
Stood still from day one
Maybe it was hiding
The darkest of all fears
Maybe it didn’t want the world
To see true fears

Not the fears of monsters
Demons
Ghosts who haunted
But the fears that kill us
And the devil himself
Fears

Maybe it held these dark matters
So the world won’t fall apart
Maybe it shows something different
To all who can see
Maybe it’s meant to
Make us use our
Imagination
Maybe it wants us to think
To wonder
But maybe isn’t always positive
Nor is it always negative

I decide to open this door
And when my hand touched
The cold doorknob
It felt fragile as if no one
Touched it in decades
But I felt
As though new life passed by
And I opened it
Just a crack to peak in
I was afraid I’d spill the darkness
But it was only
Empty

This door was made for imagination
But never was I told
Reality felt so cold

Not my poem! A fantastic example of what you can do with the inspiration of a photo or something you see in everyday life. Author please take credit? I can’t believe you wrote this in five minutes!   (It looks like I sent this to myself but I didn’t. I’m confused as to how this happened.)

To writers:
I took this picture when I was walking down the streets of Dayton, Washington a few weeks ago and for whatever reason it intrigued me. Probably because my imagination starts making up stories about things like - what’s behind that door? Who came and went through that door?And, what mysteries might be unveiled if I were to open the door and walk through? 
After reading Stephen King’s book “Full Dark, no Stars” I read his explanation of what inspired each story and it was generally something simple; something he saw, something like… a door.
What story can you write about this door? 

To writers:

I took this picture when I was walking down the streets of Dayton, Washington a few weeks ago and for whatever reason it intrigued me. Probably because my imagination starts making up stories about things like - what’s behind that door? Who came and went through that door?And, what mysteries might be unveiled if I were to open the door and walk through? 

After reading Stephen King’s book “Full Dark, no Stars” I read his explanation of what inspired each story and it was generally something simple; something he saw, something like… a door.

What story can you write about this door? 

eventing-dreams:

You know you’re an equestrian when you read passage as passage.

(via bootsbucklesandbridles)

spurbroke:

spurbroke:

NO I REFUSE TO GO ANY FURTHER I DON’T LIKE SNOW

This will always be the photo The Bee is remembered for.

Cutest thing I’ve seen today.

spurbroke:

spurbroke:

NO I REFUSE TO GO ANY FURTHER I DON’T LIKE SNOW

This will always be the photo The Bee is remembered for.

Cutest thing I’ve seen today.

(via reining-and-rainbows)

Age shouldn’t affect you. You’re either marvelous or you’re boring.

This is the story of raising, training and loving a young horse named Khyssie.

I also explore the love of writing. Because I can't be out at the barn all the time.