Posts Tagged ‘Horse’



Up the hill.

Sometimes it seems like it’s either fucking cold or really fucking hot, but we have been having some in-between weather lately and I’m grateful for that. And rain. On my tin roof. Small things matter.

I live in a town that seems further than the hour, or roughly 70kms, that it stands from Perth. Our house is ‘in town’, on a few acres. It’s usually pretty quiet. We’re walking distance to the Primary School, playground, bakery, post office, real estate etc.

I like so many things about living here. Actual seasons, spring especially is amazing. Seeing hayrolls and tractors and lambs. It’s a horse-orientated area and that can be good and not so good. I have some awesome, amazing, wonderful friends. It’s low crime, people look out for each other, kids play outside and get dirty.

We have horses, dogs, chickens, a cat and a rabbit.

If someone wants to make your life hell though, it’s pretty easy to do. If you are ‘different’, people notice. Not much stays private. If you are ‘interesting’ or ‘unusual’, people will discuss your life like it’s a TV show, and then pretend they don’t know you at the next get-together.

The good outweighs the bad, usually. It turns out people are actually pretty protective of Bailey and I here, and rather than being given the cold shoulder when we came back like I half expected, most people were just glad to see that we’re ok.

Sure, people think I’m left-centre, but in a likable way I guess.

I don’t have many recent photos, and my house resembles a construction zone right now anyway, but here’s a few old ones, mostly of Bailey here.

014 157 107 102 125 131 149 153 157 009 236 237 240 245

Ash x


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This is my dog, Charlie. Well, technically, he’s Bailey’s dog.


Charlie enjoys trashing shit, running around the streets, digging holes and ‘has to be with mummy 24/7 omg’.

We love him anyway, and I think he might have saved my life this year. He just adores me blindly, no matter what. Some of it may be because his memory is roughly 3 seconds, so he doesn’t remember me growling at him and waving the latest skylander, shoe, piece of couch he has rendered unusable. He’s hilariously dumb with no spatial awareness what so ever, he gets stuck in tree branches, under beds, coffee tables…he thinks he is a lap-dog.

He was one a few days ago. We got a puppy at the worst possible time. Because I am soft, I took a sweet little terrier type who was going to ‘get the gun’…had the perfect owner lined up, who on handover day ended up in an ambulance…I looked at the dog…she looked at me… ‘No Pepper. I want my next dog to be an Anatolian shepherd, and you kinda look like a mop’

At my dad’s with Pepper in tow ‘Well you never offered me the dog. I can look after a dog, you know. Look, I have some steak for her.’

So Pepper had a home.

‘She’s getting a bit fat Ash, don’t forget you said you’d get down to take her for her sterilisation’

‘She disappeared this morning, I had to get the neighbour to come help…guess what…she was pregnant…’

I have a dog, Alex, and she is pretty much perfect. I kinda just assumed he would fit in with the menagerie, I am usually good with animals and they all tow the line, so to speak.

The first time I held him, I remember saying ‘This one’s special

He was the puppy I could have sold ten times over.


He’s a nightmare. I’ve become one of those morons I’ve always kinda internally rolled my eyes at, whose dogs run their lives. I don’t know what happened. Like I said, the other dog is perfect. When we lived up the hill, he fit in pretty well. He wasn’t overly bright, but he learnt to stay out from under the horse’s feet mostly. He didn’t leave the property. When we moved here it was like he went insane. Jumping out. He became insanely protective. And he kept growing and growing. Now he’s about 3 times the size of his poor Mummy.

He gets separation anxiety…it’s beyond frustrating. I have him on a tie out type system with a harness and he actually seems happier like that. Like it makes him feel secure? He’s happy, anyway, but I wish he was just a normal dog like Alex, who stays in the fucking yard without being restrained, barks when someone comes but doesn’t go insane, likes swimming at the beach but doesn’t start sinking, therefore forcing me to get into the cold water in jeans to drag her out.

He is what he is, and we manage him, and he is improving. Thank God. I’ve never rehomed a pet, and I thought about it seriously with him but then I just chose to love him anyway.

And I do. Very much.



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I am not a fan of birthdays. Most years I have a predictable emotional shit storm in the weeks leading up to it, and then suddenly go ‘Oh ok. Not so bad’ when the actual day rocks around.

This year was better, and it was worse.

It was better because I kept forgetting it was coming up, and because I was so bogged down in the big stuff, it barely mattered.

It was worse, because you know how when things go wrong on your birthday, it seems harder to take than any other day?

What my birthday did not look like

In addition to the phone thing (which I may have a resolution for fairly soon) there was a mistake with a parking ticket, so I found out I’d been driving without a license for god knows how long :(. I was home alone – my mum had Bailey because it was my treatment day, and all I ended up doing was frantically trying to the suspension on my license lifted.

Didn’t happen, so I missed treatment. I wasn’t devastated. My bestie came around ‘for drinks’..we had one and went to bed at 830. I was just exhausted. That week 2 members of my extended family had passed, there was the phone drama, license, treatment, my dog was out of control (Bailey’s dog I should say, my dog is perfect 🙂 ). Masses of bills, medical and otherwise piling up… We decided to get me out of the house the next day…I was sinking, badly. Of course we ran into one person I really hoped I wouldn’t when I decided to move back here. The kinda person you maybe don’t want seeing you at an incredibly vulnerable point.


That was last week. This week has been less awful, just with a couple of random extra things to cope with. Although my finances are being cut – again. I have to report every 2 weeks – still have cancer. Still have cancer. Still have cancer. God. Talk about demoralising. I’d love to be working. Unless I work something out (or start selling stuff) before too long, horses will start going, and my house next year and my previous life will really just be a memory, not something I’m on hiatus from and can go back to.

I don’t even know if I want to go back, but without rental income I’m fucked. Without a base, I’m also fucked because it is incredibly hard to find a rental here, and a single mum with cancer and two dogs isn’t going to make the top of any list.

These things happen, and I can survive ok for roughly 6 months (barring anything else absolutely unfair happening) before I have to make hard choices. Thank God I own my cars, float etc outright and I don’t have any store debt etc. I know that’s unusual for my age and situation – and a massive blessing, and it’s what’s saved my ass so far. If I just could have stayed in remission, I could have gotten through, recovered, without too much long term damage to mine and Bailey’s living situation. But it wasn’t meant to be, so now I just have to be in damage control, bucketing out water and trying to plug leaks so we sink a bit slower, hoping something comes up in the meantime.

I know we’ll be ok. If everything else goes and we have food on the table that’s ok. I’ll grieve, but we’ll be together, and sometimes that’s what left and you can focus on what’s lost, or you can focus on what you have and make it work.

First thing tomorrow morning I’m pulling my head out of the sand, finding out where I really really am, what I can and can’t afford to lose and regaining some control.

Love you guys


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After writing this, I now feel all self-conscious, almost guilty, like I lied and now have to admit to it.

I didn’t, by the way, and some of me still feels like that. That inner-okness. It’s just the shit around all that that is making me feel like my brain is about to spew through my ears.

Over the past few months. probably 90% of the times I’ve felt like I couldn’t cope, have cried, hyperventilated, wanted to self-medicate, blah blah, come down to three things. One of them, I can cut right back on, one I can’t fix and just have to cope with, one is a total headfuck that should not be going on this long, but if anyone can tell me how to fix it…

Number two is obviously illness. I cope. I have to. It sucks.

Number three is the Craig thing. Yep. Still.

Number one is…deep breath…these guys 😦




Elmo – giving Bman a kiss 😦


Drum ❤

Put simply, horses aren’t a hobby or sport, they’re a lifestyle.

I don’t have the time, energy or money. This is killing me, because I actually love all of them. I thought this would be a hiatus… but now all the plans I had have fallen apart. I don’t know what to do. The thing is, life doesn’t stop because I need to cope. I want to put them on ice, pause them where they are while I wait and see how my life turns out, how I adjust to this new reality.

I thought I’d be less stressed not having them at home, so they’re agisted maybe 45 minutes away. I have people feeding them, checking on them, looking after their every need… I have a running account at the vet so there’s never an issue of having to get hold of me if someone needs attention.

I’m less busy, maybe even more stressed though, every time the phone rings, my first thought is something’s wrong with one of them…and wouldn’t you know it, they’ve had more injuries in the last 6 months than the 10 years before that.

My heart pounds, my hands shake and I want to hyperventilate.

Is the (slight) possibility of getting better enough to move home and play ponies worth this?

Two aren’t really saleable…Drum has cancer (anyone seeing a theme? Fuck cancer) and he’s old…I fucking love him and he taught me so much. He’s happy – except for the fact he injured himself again tonight, cue frantic phonecalls and explaining to the vet yet again no I won’t be out, this is why I pay agistment, because I’m 45 minutes away in the middle of a chemo cycle. Before vomiting. Elmo is a little feral, the one rescue I’ve broken my ‘no rescues’ rules for.  Saf, who Craig and I brought together could be sold… it would be a load off my mind, would cut the costs almost in half…

He’s the one I pin my ‘when I get better’ hopes on, if I sell him, does that mean I’ve given up on a life?

Fuck knows.



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It’s verge collection time.

When everyone throws out their unwanted junk, old furniture, fridges, boxy tvs.

This house is full of old junk, my grandfather is a hoarder. It’s an illness, they say. I wish I could open all the windows, crank some Pearl Jam, and ditch things over the balcony. Start again with white cane and furniture made of driftwood.

It’s more about me than the house, wanting things fresh and new, of course. My messenger bleeps and I see it’s my tenant from up the hill, asking what type of garden edging I’d like.

Whatever, I text. Whatever you’d like, what you think is best.

She thinks I’m the best landlady ever.

My friend, who I’ve let ride my good horse this year, calls for a chat, asking me about moving agistment centres, if he might need the chiro, she went out on Saturday and a bit of fencing was down and I just want to scream.

‘Why won’t you people leave me alone and here’s my credit card number and it’s not that I don’t care it’s because I just can’t and if I could I would have stayed at home!’

Fuck. And the thing is, I could be feeling fine tomorrow. I’m deliberately not making any big decisions, not doing anything I can’t undo because I’m not to be trusted at the moment.

It’s the only damage control I can exercise when my brain and body are on the edge of a freak-out. I throw $30 of steak to the dogs because I think it ‘smells funny’, vomit in the sink cooking eggs, notice my hands are shaking and my mouth tastes like metal. So I know not to trust myself, this isn’t real, this is just an imbalance and you’re doing everything you can to sort it out, I tell myself.

I’m so lucky. So lucky I have the luxury of being able to give myself some time. The relief floods me sometimes, the feeling of not having to make hard decisions, which horse goes first, do we sell our house now or later or subdivide the land or stick it out or or or. I’m blessed and I know that but my thankfulness doesn’t change the anxiety I feel when people bring up stuff I’d rather not think about, when my beautiful old horse has his first paddock injury in the 8 years I’ve had him, and I have to find the energy reserve I don’t have to deal with things that would have been minor once.

So my best best friend comes and takes Bailey for an icecream, and I sit here and write all this shit out, and work on my novel, and I don’t know what I’d do without my friends. I call my other riding instructor come friend, who I could barely talk to about my own horse and ask if she’d help me run Drum to the vets because I just don’t want to do it by myself, and the answer is of course. I’ll always help where I can. And it took me two whole days of feeling sick over something so minor for it to even occur to me that I could ask for help.

For an apparently smart person, I can be so incredibly slow.

And this morning I woke up to this 🙂



Life is good, really everything is fine, I just need my mind and body to catch up 🙂


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My boys are home.

And I feel a little better for it, but also a little more overwhelmed.

I have ridden twice, just little play-type rides, and my knee is holding up so far, and actually feels quite stable so that is a relief.

My horse is being brilliant, and I love him even more than I did, if that’s possible. It’s like he knows exactly what I need, or maybe we are still just that amazingly compatible.

I’m so grateful he is still with me.


Have you ever just lost total confidence in life?

I think I have. In life, people, myself.

Even with the horses now, I am constantly second guessing myself, feeling insecure, feeling like an awful rider. Feeling too inferior to even book a lesson, always feeling like I might leave gates unlatched, taps on, that something awful could happen, and it’d be my fault.

I’m trying to go easy on myself, to remind myself that things will affect me more than I think they should, maybe for a little while, maybe for longer.

And that that’s ok because I am trying. A couple months ago, I couldn’t even do that, hardly did the bare minimum. Well I could for other people, but did next to nothing for myself.

Having the horses home is just for me, and has nothing to do with anyone else.

So I think that’s a win 🙂


-I am blogging from my iPhone atm as my net is down, so please excuse any randomness, typos etc. the preview on this tends to be nothing close to how it actually looks so I’ll fix anything as soon as I get back on. I just really had to write today xxx

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You look good on him!
I felt him come into my hands when I gave him his head
I need spurs and a whip to really get him going.
He’s too much for her, maybe you should get on.
He won’t come into my hands!
I didn’t recognize you in clothes!
As he comes up, lean forward and run your hands up the crest of his neck.
There’s nothing like having 17 hands between your legs.
I’m gonna get off now.
She’s such a good girl, the instant she sees me walk out of the house, she pees!
He’s a bit of a bumpy ride, just try not to grip with your thighs too much.
He needs a good 20 min to warm-up…
Relax your back, don’t pinch with your knees, go with the motion, rock your pelvis…
Don’t pump too much.

Horse Sayings That You Can Only Say In A Horse Barn:

Stop – so I can take your rubbers & chains off!
Now where did I leave that whip?!?!?!
How long of a shaft do I need for my new driving pony?
Easy there, son, you’ve gotta love on them a little bit first, before you hop up (said to the stallion)
Have any of you ever used him before? What do you think of his performance and semen quality?
Just three more to inseminate, and I’ll be done for today
Do you think he’s too big for me?
Give me your penis back – I wasn’t done cleaning it!
I need a leg up.. he’s to big to mount from the ground.
When I was younger I used to think, “The bigger the better!” Now that I’m older, I kind of like the little ones.
If he’s not ridden 5 days a week he gets cranky…
He got me off twice today.
He’s so wide- my hips ache after I ride him.

I hate it when I’m already mounted and then realize I’ve forgotten my whip and spurs.
(At the racetrack: a groom to an exercise rider) “You on me next?”
A woman was in a store describing the breastplate which has three pieces of leather. two go over the shoulders and one between the legs etc.
I’m doing that big black stallion today. Yeah, he was pretty wild last time so I’m going to have to be firm with him.
He always drops when I rub his belly
Now Honey, don’t forget to tie the kids up before you feed them
Does your boy just love to slobber all over you too?
Just crack him on the ass – that’ll get his attention!
He hasn’t figured out that he can poop and keep going yet.
I gave him his head last night and he was so receptive to it
Up, down – up, down – up, down
You need to open your thighs a little more

Horse Sayings That You Can Only Say In A Horse Barn:

Get your hands out of your crotch if you want to feel his mouth
How many babies did you have this year? – Only three, lost the fourth one, dammit. I’ll shoot for four again next year.
He looks great, hop off and let me have a go!
Let’s tease her a bit, and once she’s ready, then we’ll bring out the stud.
His natural rhythm is short and bouncy, but if you want a good ride, you have to teach him about long and deep
He needs to come under himself more…
That is way too big for her mouth to handle…..
She really drops in her back when he mounts her……..
Is she winking with her backend yet?…….
He works so much better when I carry my whip
My girlfriend was wondering after you were done with me if you could do her too?! (said to the farrier)
You know, money’s a little tight right now and I really don’t want to pay for shoes for my five-year-old this winter. Do you think it would be okay to just let him go barefoot?

Stolen from a horse forum I’m on, hahaha.
Reminds of the time I was on the phone to a friend about her gelding, and exclaimed “Sometimes you’ve just gotta ride him like you mean it!”, only to be showered with iced coffee from this eavesdropping guys nose 😛

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Dear Cancer.

Please fuck off now.

Love me and Drummy.


I not usually one to ask for stuff online, but if you could spare a little positive energy for my darling horse, I’d appreciate it.

We find out in 6 wks if his medication is working. It has a 50% success rate.

I don’t know if I am strong enough to lose him at the moment.


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So last week, in one of my more desperately psychotic moods, I decided to meet up with this guy.  I had to go to the shops anyway, so I messaged him and asked if he wanted to meet me at Macca’s for a coffee.  Classy, I know.

And yes, I was very straight in the fact that I am still married, don’t want anything serious, or anything at all really, and that I’m an emotional basket-case.  He still wanted to meet me.  Judge me if you want, I don’t care anymore.  I know this might look, and sound, to other people, but only I know how it is.

Anyway after him checking (a couple of times) that I seriously wanted to go to macca’s versus somewhere ‘nice’ for a drink, I trundled down there.  With trackies, bad hair, bad skin, minimal makeup.  I did shower, about as good as it gets these days.

And he couldn’t have been nicer to me.  Definite friend material, for now.  I feel bad now, because he’s interested in more, and I’m going to have to re-iterate that that’s not gonna happen anytime soon, if ever.  But something casual, I can probably handle.

He’s fun, and maybe that’ll be good for me.  There were a couple of “I’m not going to lie to you, I…” statements, and he’s a bit of a feral badass type, but in all honesty I tend to relate better to…..that type…..  Craig was the first normal, straight, clean history kind of guy I’d dated, and it really didn’t make any difference in the end.  Actually a couple of people have suggested that him having such an easy, sheltered type of life made it harder for him to cope with my life, well our life together, and made it easy for him to put everything on me.  Kind of a ‘well this type of shit never happened when I wasn’t with you’ attitude.  Probably because he had barely gone out of a 20km radius from his house, or actually gotten close enough to anyone so that their shit would affect him. Like the rest of his family.

And of course the inevitable questions, ‘so how long were you guys together for’ and ‘when and how did you get married’ came up, and I know full well how dodgy it sounds when I explain it to someone who doesn’t know us.  I don’t know actually, tons of people who know me probably think it’s pretty dodgy too.

His response? “DAMN GIRL” with a big smile.


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