Way Way Too Awwwwww To Not Share

Gigja Einarsdóttir and her family rescued a foal found wandering off on its own one night near their home just outside Reykjavik, Iceland. They sheltered the foal, which they named Brogi, for the night and eventually found the mother.

But before they did, Einarsdóttir’s 4-year-old daughter got to run around with Brogi, and it's the cutest thing ever.

Check it out here


All together now: aaaaaaawwwwwww.
 

Because Horse Pictures. And Wishing Everyone a Happy New Year is Always Good.

The clock has ticked over, and since Friday has now arrived, I'll do a quick Gong Xi Fa Cai post, mostly because then I get to include some cool pony pics. Everything from wild to classic to cute.




So without further ado, let's welcome the Year of the Wood Horse a.k.a The Year of the Green Horse. As I've mentioned before, January has been a bit of a non-starter for me, so I'll use the lunar calendar as an opportunity to reboot and restart my year. I hope it goes well for me, just as I unrealistically hope it goes well for everyone in the whole wide world. Gong Xi Fa Cai !

And for a bit of colour, this is one verdict on babies born this year:

The 2014 Horse year baby will likely be an energetic, warm, friendly, intelligent person. He/she will be always happy and talented; he likes to be within the limelight. His positive outlook in life can make him out-standing among all of people. The horse baby will put the fantastic enthusiasm into their work. They will not give up easily, but on the other hand, 2014 horse baby may also become an impatient person who enjoys independence and freedom and perhaps their interests are usually superficial, sometimes, they will be fairly hot-tempered and unreceptive to suggestions from other people.

Horse baby - I love it. That almost makes this a Foalwatch post too...

Horse Riding Cures Almost Everything, Maybe.

I've had a few aches sneak up on me lately, and wasn't sure how well a day of horse riding would go down with my body, but being a great believer in not knowing how things will turn out until you have a go, I headed off with a pocket full of pills to meet my sister for a whole day of riding in Daylesford, just the two of us. If worse came to worse, I thought, I could always bail on the afternoon ride.

Good thing I did go. A couple of panadols was all I needed - which is, strangely enough, a lot less than I down to get through a far less physically exerting sit-still shift at the Arvo Job (go figure) - and a great day was had. My sister sneakily snapped this fab photo of me contentedly moseying along through the forest on my old friend M. with her phone, and I'm glad she did. See, you can miss out on much good stuff if you overthink what might happen. I actually feel really good, though tired, and I will, no doubt be sore tomorrow, and the day after. However, it's important, I think, to do things that make you feel strong when you're not well, even if you have to push yourself a bit - the positive feedback loop is worth a truckload of pharmaceutical products. My sister and I have vowed that we'll be getting back into our regular riding schedule again next year. We're over pottering along the laneways like old ladies and want to be hellions on horseback once more. It's our thing.

So yeah, beautiful weather, scenic countryside full of rolling hills, happy, green forests full of colourful parrots, good horses, fine food, fun company, a much appreciated lift home (thank you, Cindy) AND I snapped a few pics for my much neglected Foalwatch:

Oh! I do like to be beside the seaside

And so, unfortunately, did everyone else on this stunning, unseasonably warm Spring Sunday. At Airey's Inlet today, far, far more than the usual quota of folk for this time of the year filled the Great Ocean Road beach with their towels, tents, kites, kids and dogs, so even though my sister and I got in a few highly enjoyable canters, they were nothing like the glorious gallops along an empty shore that we usually enjoy before the Summer crowds turn up.

In the afternoon, after starting out with a larger group, 3 of us, mounted on mares infamous for their attitudes (sort of equine versions of the Pink Ladies from Grease) split off for a more challenging bush ride. I wish I'd taken my camera, because at one point, a "stick" on a wide track suddenly moved and we immediately reined into let the "stick", a huge tiger snake, make its leisurely way across the road. It was fascinating to watch, and we had a good, comparing-snake-stories chat while we waited until it reached the other side. It rested there on the slope of the embankment, in no hurry to move on. As we rode past, we eyeballed it, and it kept a beady eye on us.

And to finish off, even though not technically a foal, this Shetland does fulfill enough foal-like criteria - he's small, cute and cheeky - to adorn today's Foalwatch space, since foals, at the moment, are few and far between.

Neigh

Yes, I'm afraid it's true, I'm writing a horse story. A little horse story, as in both the tale and the critter are little. I think the Foalwatch photo of Peanut (see Sunday) had something to do with it popping into my head during yesterday's train writing session on the way to the Arvo Job. Since I do what I do, it's also a fantasy story. I didn't have high hopes for it initially, and worried that it was too cute by far, but today it took a nice, grounding turn both structurally and contentwise, and now I'm quite excited by it. I hope to have it done by the end of the week.

Flying through the forest

Today was one of those utterly perfect days one has every now and then. It was a horse riding day, the weather was gorgeous, and every eyeful of the Daylesford countryside was picture postcard stunning. My sister Cindy and I went out by ourselves for the morning ride. We mostly hacked along and chatted, enjoying the day and our companionable mounts. I rode an old favourite of mine, Marab, an Arab with a huge personality who is getting on in years but is still full of vim and verve. I used to take him out for both the morning and afternoon rides whenever we went to Daylesford, but now he only occasionally goes out, and just for shorter rides. He's still willing and fast, but too long a ride knocks him out for days afterwards. It was good to spend some time with him again. It was like meeting up with an old pal. My sister and I let him set the pace, and we both laughed at his obvious enjoyment of the ride.

The afternoon ride was fast and long and hard. We were five experienced riders with strong, fast, zesty mounts. We did one of my favourite rides - along an old railway track in the Wombat State Forest. At times we cantered through deep railway cuttings, the rough rock walls soaring up on both sides, and at other times along high, narrow embankments that put us up way higher than the surrounding forest so it was like we were on earthen bridges galloping over a ferny sea. We jumped a few logs, did some serious bush bashing, and all in all had a ripping time. The horses loved it too - I'll have sore shoulders tomorrow from controlling my mount. She was a big girl, very strong and very eager.

And here is today's Foalwatch photo, emailed to me by my sister. Our very special guest is Peanut (a.k.a. Naughty Nuts) a miniature horse foal. He and his mum were rescued and sent to an animal shelter. Sadly, his mum died, but Peanut has a fantastic new home, where he now enjoys the companionship of two other tiny equines. This picture is definitely the cutest yet to grace Foalwatch.

And in a writerly aside, my Thalassophobia story is being held for final consideration. Cross fingers.

Horsies

We travelled in style to horse riding today in my sister's new car. Despite the drizzly weather, we had an excellent morning ride. There were just two other riders, both experienced and good company, and the horses were raring to go. After lunch, the weather was less wet, but still windy and chilly (thank goodness for drizzabones) and we set off at a brisk pace with 3 different riders who were also experienced and up for it.


However, just after we started out, our ride was waylaid by the horrible sound of a dog screaming in pain and fear, a sound which rang across the Daylsfordian countryside. We all wheeled about and galloped back the way we'd come, and saw a few other people leave their properties on the same quest as us. By the time we had almost zeroed in on the noise, it stopped. An older gentleman covered in blood appeared, a dog, big, young and gangly, limping at his side - the dog had tried to jump a fence, became tangled in the barb wire, and had been screaming and struggling while the old man was cutting it free.

So we resumed our ride. Clods of mud flew left, right and centre as we galloped up and down rolling hills, and then cantered through the Wombat Forest. My sister got plastered in the stuff. I kept further to the rear and remained reasonably clean :)

As for Foalwatch, I get a big F for my efforts today. There was the cutest filly, only 3 months old, in the coral this morning, but I didn't have my camera handy. By the time we returned from the first ride, the foal was elsewhere, and it was time for lunch. After the second ride, I wasn't up for traipsing across cold, windy, muddy, increasingly dark fields in search of a foaly photo op.

A bothersome but beaut day

'Twas a day for catching up with the sister and doing a bit of horse riding, although it almost wasn't. V-line wasn't operating out our way this weekend because of track work (mind you, V-Line is a major sponsor of this year's Castlemaine Festival, and for the past few months I've been looking at ads on the sides of trains and posters at stations touting the joys of taking a leisurely train trip to the Castlemaine Festival, except, well, anyone who tried to get here for the final weekend would have had to bus it. Go figure.) Because I wasn't zooming straight into Melbourne, I had to hitch a ride with a bus that stopped at every little country station between here and where my sister was picking me up (she lives way out on the other side of Melbourne.) I wasn't worried, I thought I had plenty of time. I thought wrong. We drove along the highway, turned off the highway, through a town, the driver got out to find people huddled in nooks and crannies, the driver herded said folk onto the bus, we got out of the town, we got back on the highway, we drove along for a while, turned off the highway... Anyway, putting a chaotic morning firmly behind us, my sister and I calmly continued on our journey just to see what we could salvage from the day, and actually got to ride for about 5 hours. We rode with a small group of experienced riders for the first ride, then there were just 3 of us for the second ride. It was a drizabone day - periodic showers, strong winds, then spells of stillness and sunshine - but we got plenty of cantering, jumping, and wending through the forest done. At the end of the day, feeling wonderfully tired, with the sun set and us in front of a huge, roaring fire drinking strong tea and munching raspberry and white chocolate muffins, the heavens opened and it began to pour and hail. My lovely sister then offered to drive me straight home so I wouldn't have to fumble around on a dark and stormy night in search of a bus heading my way, so here I am, snug as a bug in front of my computer while she's still out there in the aforementioned dark and stormy night heading for home. Foalwatch: Since we last visited Daylesford, Butch the stallion once again became a dad, siring this little one, who is just one month old. I love fluffy foal tails. *There go the paragraphs again. This is getting bloody annoying.

Rubicon riding and recoveries

(and a rejection that I won't mention).

It was up over the Black Spur early this morning, after a sleepover at my sister’s, for a ride in the ever so beautiful Rubicon Valley.
For a long time, this was a pretty depressing drive because of the devastation wreaked by the fires that went through the Marysville/Kinglake / Healesville area, and many, many other places, back in February 2009. Everything was dead, there were blackened ruins where there had once been houses and melted cars along the roadside. Even now, even though the bush is regenerating at an amazing rate and towns and homes have risen from the ashes, once over the Black Spur, you only have to look up to see, along the ridges and hill crests, kilometer after kilometer of tree corpses that still stand stark and black against the blitzed soil and skyline to once more recall the terrible firestorms that exploded across the area. As with all disasters, the people there are still rebuilding years after the world’s attention has turned elsewhere.

Rubicon Valley itself mostly escaped the fire, which stopped just short of the place where we ride. The national forest that adjoins the valley was not so lucky, and has only recently been reopened to the public, but we headed in the opposite direction today. We did what we call the ‘paddock ride’, which is far more beautiful than it sounds – lots of wide open spaces and cantering up grassy hills with the reward of a spectacular view at every summit, trotting along ridges surrounded by eucalyptuses and air so eucalyptusy it clears any congestion you might have within minutes, and ultimately reaching a peak with a 360 degrees view of curving ranges and undulating valleys folding and rising and stretching from horizon to horizon, a truly stunning, magical kingdom kind of sight.

Things were quite different when my sister and I first rode there four years ago. Before the fires, the longest drought in I'm not sure how many years was drying up Victoria, which was, of course, why the area was so volatile. Back then, the valley was brown and dusty, the earth hard and cracked, the trees close to giving up, and the creeks and rivers were just trickles, and we rode on a day with a high, hot wind blowing dirt in our faces. Do not ask me why. If you don’t know, I can’t tell you.

Anyway, it was quite different from this vision of greeness:



It's been a real pleasure watching the valley recover and flourish.



As for today’s Foalwatch, it is brought to you courtesy of my sister Cindy, because it was she who spotted this young resident of Rubicon Valley in a field (click to enlarge for a better look).

Hey, hey, it was a horse riding day.

My sister and I didn't do any riding over the holidays - she was way too busy with her pet minding business - but we're back in the saddle again for our regular horsey get togethers.

Today we went to Daylesford and rode through the Wombat Forest. The morning ride was magical. The ferns were lush and frothy after all the recent rain, and clouds of Monarch butterflies and glittering dragonflies filled the air as we cantered along. Bliss.

The afternoon hoon ride was great too, once it settled down. We were a group of 5 experienced riders, but there were a few alpha male issues and rules about what constituted safe riding that had to be set with the 2 riders who joined us before we could get down to enjoying ourselves and tear about the forest. But enjoy ourselves we did, and mightily so too.

And here's your Foalwatch update.

Leaping logs & a longtime loser

I’m just back from a day of horse riding through the Wombat Forest in Daylesford. There was more rainy riding when a storm, complete with thunder and lightening, hit and thoroughly soaked us. Mind you, after the Snowy River ride, this was a piece of (soggy) cake. Fortunately the skies cleared, and post lunch we, a small group of experienced riders, headed off again for an afternoon of bush bashing and lots of log leaping. It was a higgledy-piggledy, but most fun day.

And now Foalwatch brings you these cute pics:
This still nameless, and strangely marked colt was one of the two born foals a couple of months ago (after, if you recall, Butch the stallion jumped the fence one night). In the second picture, he shares the frame with his doting mum.

My only writing news is that I came home to a rejection. It’s a funny old thing the rejected story – on its very first outing, it made it to the final round of an American anthology, and when they finally rejected it, they did so with much praise. I, of course, had high hopes for its future, but ever since then, it’s been all downhill for this poor tale. I’ll cut it right back to the barest of bones, I think (the consensus seems to be, among other things, that it's too long) and give it one or two more goes, then I’ll have to admit defeat and bin it.

Spot the foal

So I went horse riding in the Wombat Forest with my sister today, and there were 2 foals* at the place where we go, both only a couple of weeks old, so I was going to take some excruciatingly cute baby pics of them to post here, but I ran out of time to traipse across the paddock, so instead I tried zooming in on them, which requires a very steady hand...

The result? I got lots of photos of grass and this:

Adorable, eh?

*Addendum: these were not planned pregnancies. Butch, the stallion, jumped the fence and made a night of it.