Morning rides, runaway steers, wild ponies, NaMo ponies, ponies in regalia, and more ponies...

February 2, 2025
The morning was chilly, warming quickly to spring temperatures. Fleeting patches of snow clung to the shadows and the north facing slopes. The ground was damp and spongey.

Skye rode Comet confidently across the terrain. The mare had an amazing head on her shoulders, and a smooth, easy lope. When the melting snow was slippery, she slowed her pace accordingly.

Grace let Skye lead. It was good practice for La Barilla, who tended to want to be in front.

Atop Mustang Rock, two of the stone pools had water, and two were dry. Grace couldn't really figure why, except perhaps the wind. 

Skye was below the rock formation when she heard a vehicle on the road. It was the boss in the Pavement Queen. There was something in the back of the truck but Skye couldn't make out what it was.

Grace and La Barilla must've seen the truck before Skye did. She was surprised to see them circle the truck from the front.

The girls put their horses up and met the boss back at the truck, assuming they'd help unload. 

"I'm gonna have lunch first" the boss said. And then, "Hey, did you ladies get started on your NaMoPaiMo horses?"

Grace and Skye looked at each other. Skye responded. "We've been focused on getting horses out while the weather is nice. Since it's supposed to rain this coming week."

"All right! Well, I'll see you after lunch."

Grace and Skye examined their models for National Model Painting Month, or "NaMoPaiMo."

"Do you know what color you're going to do yours?" Grace asked. 

"I think I'm going to copy the boss and do a medicine hat. What about you?"

"I think I'm going to copy Heather Bullach and do a buckskin..."

The day was in fact lovely, so the girls turned out horses. First, Anamar, the lovely grey Amazigh, formerly known as a Moroccan Barb.  Then Angel and his fleet-footed Paso Fino sidekick.

"Have you ever ridden a Paso Fino?" Skye asked Grace. 

"I never have."

"Do you want to?" 

"Honestly someone would need to teach me how. They are incredibly smooth, but I wouldn't know how to ask them for their gaits."

A rogue gust of wind slung sand into the girls' faces. It was followed by more gusts as the warm afternoon air rose, restless and unbridled. This would be the last horse to turn out for the afternoon.

Back inside, Anoush, Anahit and Lousin arrived just as Grace and Skye were contemplating addressing their NaMoPaiMo ponies. It was a welcome diversion.

At a moment when their guests were talking among themselves, Skye leaned toward Grace. "Should we ask them to help us unload the truck?" Grace nodded.

Before anything was going to fit inside the tac room, they would need to move things. Saddles forward, everything that has been in the corner moved behind the saddles.

"These are so cute!" Anahit and Lousin sat in the new patio furniture the boss had returned with. For now they would have to be set aside while the hutch came in.

Grace and Skye struggled with a huge steel tub, full of all nature of stable supplies. They rested for a moment before moving the tub and its contents behind the saddles, along the wall.

Hutch, cabinet, mini tack room...once it was on the tack room floor, Lousin made short work of moving it by herself. "Just show me where you want it!"

"Where did all this come from?" Anoush asked. 

"A gift. A gift from Michelle Sepiol. We asked her to fix a saddle for us, and she sent us back a whole stable!"

Anahit opened the doors of the hutch. "I think those are saddle racks" Anahit said, peering inside. 

One final item to unload and put away. The box with the saddle. It was unusually heavy for an english saddle. Anahit pulled out the repaired saddle.

Lousin pulled out a lovely light colored english saddle. "Oh, this one is for a child! It's gorgeous! I think it's brand new."

Anoush pulled out the final saddle, resting it on the edge of the box, studying it. "This is a brand new saddle also."

Grace and Skye were silent.  Michelle's generosity and talent was really beyond words. 

The girls admired the new addition to the tack room. There was silence for a few moments. Then Anoush spoke.

"You...are very blessed, with very wonderful people in your life."

Grace nodded. "Yes."

February 8
Skye examined her NaMoPaiMo horse.
"I think I'm technically ready for paint" Skye said. "But. There's one little problem. I was going to do a pattern similar to what the boss is doing, and she doesn't know what she's doing yet."

"That is a problem" Grace replied. "I really like the base coat I have, but I missed some spots on the underside. I think I'll just do another base coat instead of trying to do little touch ups."


February 9
Daylight was better for painting models, but when Sunday dawned lovely and wind-still, painting wasn't what the girls had in mind.

Skye lead the way across the land north of the ranch on one of Grace's favorite all-around riding horses, Chili. Grace followed on the gelding the boss had picked up in September, after the Bridge fire. He was quiet, responsive, and easy to sit.

The ground had frozen overnight, thawing as the sun's warmth penetrated the soil. Skye watched the new gelding. He seemed relaxed, engaged, intelligent.

"I might not have chose the best saddle for him" Grace said. I feel like this one is pushing me forward a little bit."

The morning calm was interrupted by a fleeting flash of white on the not too distant horizon.

Not a wild horse. An escaped steer. 

"Skye, hold back a little and let me see what this guy's got as regards cattle." 

Skye reined in her mount, but Chili didn't want to be held back.

"He wants a piece of that beef!" Skye laughed.

Grace's mount seemed to know his way around cows. They were able to get the wayward steer turned around. Grace was holding the reins loosely, not offering any direction.

They brought the steer back to the ranch between them. 

"Think we'll keep him?" Skye asked.

"The horse or the steer?"

"The horse!"

"I don't know. He's pretty sweet..."

February 15
The wind tore across the landscape in erratic gusts, broken by long moments of stillness. Definitely not pleasure riding weather. Grace and Skye settled in to work on the NaMoPaiMo horses. 

"Skye, I thought you were doing a medicine hat, like the boss."

"Have you seen her horse? Full on frame. There's no way I'm attempting that. I'm doing a pale palomino with lots of white markings."

"I'm going to do the black points, I think" Grace mused out loud. "In pastel. So they don't stab you in the eye like the mane and tail does." 

Skye giggled, and giggled. And then Grace laughed too.

"Fun. This is supposed to be fun" Skye teased.

"Ladies..." the voice of the boss distracted the girls from their art. "Do you have a minute? I want to show off what I bought today. In the tack room."

In the tack room, the girls gazed upon a set of decorator model horses. "This one is sweet" Grace said, admiring what appeared to be a grey. The others were outlandish. But with rare exceptions, Grace was not a decorator girl. 

"He's prismatic!" the boss said with enthusiasm. "Oh you can't see it in this light. He is amazing! Maybe we should bring him somewhere else. I'd say outside but the wind..."

Skye examined the other three. The rearing horse was her favorite of those. And the blue horse...the blue was amazing, but she didn't care for the way the legs were painted. 

The boss chattered away. They were a set and no, she had no idea where she was going to put them, and it was a bit of an impulse purchase, but the prismatic grey...she just had to have it. And could they maybe take it where there was better light? She really wanted to show it off.

The light in the girls' room wasn't quite strong enough to bring out the rainbow effect in vivid detail, but they could see it. And it was, in fact, pretty amazing.

The pauses in between bursts of wind had lengthened by evening. Eager to be outside, the girls took their chances. 

"You should have told me you wanted to get all decked out" Skye said, admiring Anamar's "fantasia" regalia.*

"It wasn't that. I knew I wanted to get this guy out and I knew what fit him. In hindsight, I picked tack with all kinds of swinging, clanking tassles and ornaments. And I didn't adjust the stirrups well."

"I screwed up the cowboy knot on the bosal if that makes you feel any better. I couldn't get it right to save my life."

The horses were slightly uptight and reactive. It could have been the wind. Or a scent carried on the wind. Grace and Skye rode up to a lookout point, and surveyed the surroundings. They saw nothing. The coming of the wind was telegraphed in the pines. The gusts became stronger as the day's light faded. They decided to head back. A short ride, but a short ride is better than no ride.

The girls looked all about on the way back, and they looked at the ground, freshened by the recent rain. There were no tracks to see except the ones they'd made themselves. The land, except for the growling of the wind, was quiet.

*(Fantasia is a performance, a traditional exhibition of horsemanship in the Maghreb performed during cultural festivals and for Maghrebi wedding celebrations).

February 16
"Can you see them?" Grace whispered.

"I can't see anything. The sun is right in my eyes."

Crazy's band emerged.  Crazy brought up the rear.  The last rays of sunlight were warm and brilliant, the light constantly changing as tree shadows danced across the landscape.

Lady Godiva was bringing the band down onto the flat, heading north-east.

The girls were tucked safely in between narrow stone passages.

Crazy stopped, sensed something, snorted. The lead mare halted.

Crazy changed his mind abruptly about their direction, circling around his harem, herding them back into the shelter of the rocks.  There was a brief moment of chaos.

Something caught Skye's attention. Skye spun around and looked behind them.

A red tailed hawk passed close overhead.  Skye smiled.

Crazy's band moved up the rock escarpment, just below them.

Something about Crazy. He bristled with energy. The girls watched him, breathless. The path through the rocks was narrow. Crazy was the last one to clamber up into the passage.  And then they were gone.

The way back to the ranch was strewn with ravel and boulders. The girls placed their feet carefully. Skye watched their long shadows fall upon the uneven ground. She took a deep breath, and a deep exhale.

"Life is good" Skye said, smiling. "Life is good."

February 22
"I think I'm done" Grace said, looking at her Volo model. "I ran into the same issue you did."

"What issue?"

"I was more or less following along with Heather Bullach. I wanted to do a buckskin anyway, but I figured I'd learn so much if I followed her progress. And then she made her buckskin a pinto. It's gorgeous. But I'm not going there."

"Well, obviously, I've got a little ways to go" Skye said, "but I think I can finish in time." 

The animals were being a bit peculiar. Baron was playing king of the hill which displaced the normal bed dwellers, which created a lot of interest in the lower bunk bed.

Ginger kitty was having to share space with one of the barn cats who had been hanging around the house quite a bit lately. And taking the place of honor, Skye's place, on the bed. Ginger kitty wasn't certain how to handle the situation.

There was time enough for a late afternoon ride. The wind picked up as the sun was descending.  Grace rode Spin, the fire sale gelding.  

"You like that horse, huh?" Skye said.

"I do. But I'm cold."

"It's not that cold out. You're probably getting sick. That's probably why Baron was on your bed. He's always like that when you don't feel good."

"I don't feel sick. Just cold. Maybe I'll warm up when we get out of the wind."

The indoor arena wasn't warm, but the lack of wind made it feel warmer. 

"You should try him over poles!" Skye rode Comet over the ground poles at a lope. Comet was flawless.

"Do you think we can get a few halter pictures of him?" The boss's voice announced her arrival.

"Sure" Grace said. Let me get off of him now though before he gets all sweaty."

Grace watched the chestnut move. There was a quiet ease about him. Normally she liked a horse with a little more edge, but this boy was very easy to get accustomed to.

"Got time for one more?" Skye asked the boss.

"Sure!" 

Skye pulled Comet's bosal off and turned her loose. She loped her long, easy lope, ears forward, almost as if she knew she was being photographed.

"Meet me in the tack room?" the boss queried. 

"All right" Grace answered.


"I bought you two more saddle stands" the boss explained, "and Grace I bought you a vest. I don't know if it's your style..."

Grace pulled the vest on, struggled with her hood and the vest's tall collar. Looked at Skye and smiled.

"This vest is really warm."

"And it's beautiful!" Skye added. 

February 23
​Spin loped around the arena in measured circles. Click, click, click. The boss took picture after picture.

Skye turned to Grace, whispering. "How many pictures of this horse are we gonna take?"

"I heard that Skye" the boss said, smiling.

Click, click, click.

February 24
Before the morning sun had made it very far along the horizon, Grace and Skye turned out horses.

"These two have perfect head carriage" Grace said.

"But." Skye replied.

"Yes. But. Neither one of them is naturally inclined to hand gallop. We'd be pushing them out of their comfort zone."

Charmer, rich bay coat flashing hues of red in the morning light, was made of the opposite material. Out of hand gallop was his favorite gait. But he was high-headed, and that wasn't going to change. A martingale would just frustrate the situation.

Grace brought Windy Boy out next.  
"Didn't you ride him in Grand Entry last year?"
"I did" Grace replied. "He was the grand entry last year. He's all that. Speed, color, willingness. He is a little hard to stop. But we've got some time to practice."

The girls watched quietly as Firebird stretched her legs. She was a lot of horse. Definitely one of Skye's favorites, but not necessarily an easy ride.

"She's almost too much" Grace remarked.

Jesse was the last horse for the morning. 

"He's a maybe" Grace said. "I think we could make it work of we need to."

"What about Bryn? The cob?" Skye asked.

"Oh. Yeah. Hed' be perfect. But we don't have a saddle that fits him. He's a big boy."
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