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Part of tiny home living, unless you want to live in a Hoarders house or pay for a giant storage unit, is minimizing possessions. Granted, at 399 square feet (plus a loft space) we aren’t going nearly as tiny as what most people think of when they picture a tiny house, but it’s certainly a change from a 1500 square foot, 4 bedroom 2 bath suburban home.

I have generally never been the type of person to collect a lot of personal (ie non-horse related) stuff. I don’t like clutter, I don’t like knick-knacks, and I’m a rather poor decorator since it all just looks like “stuff” to me. If you really want to psychoanalyze it, it’s probably due in large part to a couple things: 1) I’ve moved a lot in my lifetime. Like 17 times in 36 years. There for a while I moved every year basically. You know what sucks? Having to pack up lots of stuff. I learned how to live without things I didn’t like enough to carry up and down 3 flights of apartment stairs. 2) My mother collected all kinds of things. She was tidy about it, and decorative, but there were gas lamps, copper molds, chickens (like thousands of ceramic chickens), deorative plates, fabric, etc etc all over the place. It always felt like there was stuff everywhere, and like if I turned around too fast I might break something. She got joy out of collecting those things, and that’s fine… but I did not, and still don’t. It makes me feel suffocated.

I’m also not really into clothes, or beauty products, or shoes, or jewelry, or whatever else normal people might have a lot of. I tend to wear the same types of things over and over, and the same two pairs of shoes, and I could not give less of a shit about all the different exfoliating scrubs or lotions or whatever else you’re supposed to use that I definitely do not. I’ve got like… 2 things. Hence why the idea of minimalism has been pretty appealing to me – it’s mostly in line with my natural tendencies. Granted, not the particularly “true” more extreme form of minimalism where they own like 4 shirts… that’s a bit much for me. But the idea of having things in much smaller quantities, and only keeping things that you actually use or need? Very appealing.

Except… you know what I AM into, in large quantities?

HORSE STUFF.

Yeah I know, that’s probably a real shock, right?

My real vice, when it comes to buying things and keeping excess, is horse stuff. In my own defense, horses do require a lot of shit. Like multiple blankets per horse. Different types of equipment. Boots for different purposes. Bits. So many bits. Sprays, ointments, shampoos. I mean… even if you try to minimize it, they still require a whole lot of shit if you want to be a well prepared horse owner. Also, look, I like having shit that matches and coordinates. Gotta have the boys looking cute. I also like have fun “toys”. However, I will be the first to admit that I’m like 15 steps past what constitutes well prepared.

The real question I had to ask myself though, was: do I want to minimize this part of my life too? If so, how far do I want to go, and then how do I get there?

For the first part I decided that the answer is a bit of a shaky yes, shaky only because – in answer to the second part – I don’t want to go to an extreme. I still want to be a very well-prepared and well stocked equestrian, and I want my horses to have everything they could possibly need in any forseeable training/care/riding/management situation. I have ample storage space, so I don’t have to worry about that part. The real opportunity to minimize comes when I turn the spotlight on myself.

Do I need 16 pairs of breeches? Probably not. So I picked out my favorites – a couple pairs of tights for summer, the one winter pair I own, the “regulars” that I reach for most often, the whites I show in, and the tan I keep for foxhunting. That left me with 9. Still a lot, sure, but… better than 16. I still feel prepared for any situation, so it doesn’t feel like any kind of loss. I did the same with show shirts (god I LOVE show shirts for some reason). Did I need 8? Probably not, considering how little I show. Pared it down to a couple of my favorite white shirts, a couple of colored ones for schooling shows or if jackets are waived, and the rest went in the cull pile. And so it went, weeding out all the things I really just don’t need, and honestly don’t even wear that much. I was left with a smaller but still comprehensive collection of things I truly love and use/wear on at least a semi-regular basis.

But… it’s pretty easy to just clean stuff out, isn’t it? The harder part is preventing it all from piling back up again. So I gave myself a rule: One in, one out. Basically, if I buy something non-essential, another item has to go. I’ve been applying the rule since the beginning of the year and so far it’s actually working. I’ve passed up several purchases already because by the time I sat there and tried to figure out what I would sell in order to buy it, I talked myself out of it. And, alternatively, I’ve added one thing because I liked it so much I was willing to let go of another similar item. Really it’s not minimalism so much as mindfulness. If I have to get rid of something else in order to acquire the thing I want, I have to really want it. Especially since I’m now pared down to only the things that I like and use the most. I can’t just pile stuff up because it’s pretty and fun. My goal isn’t really to spend less money (although that’s a natural side effect), it’s to have/accumulate less unnecessary stuff.

Except gloves. It will be a cold day in hell before you make me stop buying gloves. At least they’re small.

While it’s not true minimalism by definition, and it’s not particularly “strict”, this was the method I picked for myself because I thought it was one that I could actually sustain. Other people would maybe have more success with a different approach, but I know myself well enough to know what’s realistic for me. My horses get what they need (yes, I’m putting Presto’s ball in the need category, fight me) and I still get to be well-equipped and have/buy stuff that I like. But the purchases are more mindful and more intentional, and that’s really what the overall goal was. Will I stop window-shopping? Never. I’m always interested to see what’s new and great, and eager to try things and see if I’ll like them. Now I just have to be a little more sure before I click buy.

As I was sitting there last week watching yet another facebook fight unfold about what is the right age to start a horse under saddle, I couldn’t help but chuckle. Equestrians are so funny, because I feel like most of us that have been riding/training/keeping horses long enough know that anytime you think you’re totally right about something, a horse will come along to prove you wrong. Never say never is a motto with many of us. And yet in the same breath we will staunchly defend our ideal of what is the “best way” to do anything, while ridiculing those who do something different. But what if… what if both sides are right?

I mean, I think we can all agree that riding a weanling falls well into DEFINITELY DO NOT DO, VERY BAD territory, and that waiting until they’re 8 is probably a tad unnecessary. There are always hard lines when it comes to cruelty or abuse (well… usually…), and extremes in the other direction. But dropping both extremes, there is a lot of territory that exists in between. What about starting a horse at 2? Or, on the other end of the spectrum, what about the people who wait until 5 or 6? They probably both have their reasons, and they’re probably both valid. If we know anything by now it’s that what’s right for one horse may not be right for another, and on the same note, what’s right for one person might not be right for another. There are people who choose to let their horses be relatively feral for their early years, and those who choose to do a lot of handling and ground work. People who bring horses up the levels quickly, and people who take a long time to develop them. Very different approaches, but again – maybe both are right.

I’ve seen a lot of these scenarios unfold. There are people that are exceptionally good at reading a horse, understanding when they can ask for more and when they can’t, when the horse needs a break mentally or physically, how to artfully add strength to a horse without adding wear and tear. I have no doubt that those people can and have successfully started many horses at 2 and not done any detriment to the horse’s long term soundness – in fact, some studies show that the horse may be better off because of it. You also see the people who don’t possess a lot of patience, or aren’t so good at knowing how to quit while they’re ahead, or are very workmanlike and more intense, or are just so skilled that they can get a horse properly trained up in a very short period of time, and those people are probably more successful waiting until a horse is older. Some people like to spend a long time just casually trail riding the babies, some like to go right into a structured work program. There are also the horses that are ready to work a bit earlier, and those that aren’t. It’s all different – sometimes VERY different. A lot of times what someone else does isn’t what we would do. But does that make it automatically wrong just because it’s not what we would do? What if it’s actually the very best thing for that particular person and that particular horse, given their circumstances, personalities, and skill sets?

At one point the facebook argument devolved into dithering over a difference of just a few months, what exact time growth plates close, etc etc. By the end I was just chuckling. I’ve probably been drawn into this same argument myself many times in the past, I’m sure. After all, I believe what I believe because it’s worked for me and it suits my views based on what I have observed and what I’m good at. But by this point I also have no doubt that someone else could have a very different approach and still be right. Many roads lead to Rome.

We see the same thing over and over with things like the will-never-die draw rein debate, or wool vs foam flocking debate, or blanketing, or fencing, or straight load vs slant load trailers, or whatever other thing everybody’s all riled up about this time. When it comes to training and horse management, there’s just a whooooole lot of gray area. Extremes are probably not good, but everything in the middle – and there’s a whole lot of it in the middle – might be very right, depending on the variables at hand. It’s tricky in the age of social media, where we’ve kind of been trained to constantly give our own opinion or feedback. I personally like the debates that social media invites, I think it’s helpful to hear and consider different opinions, but maybe not so much when it devolves into name calling or “everyone is wrong except for me”. Sometimes people are very convinced that their way is the only way. We’ve probably all been guilty of that at some point.

I’ve found this particularly amusing lately as I get people asking “why haven’t you started riding Presto yet?” and literally the same day from someone else “he definitely needs another year”. I’ve got people thinking I’m crippling him by lunging him w/t for 5 minutes twice a month, and people who think he should already be well on his way to broke and I’m doing him a disservice. Not joking, I’ve heard both. Because if there’s anything we horse people have, it’s opinions. I respect both sides, and, to be honest, maybe there’s validity in both. Maybe, based on those peoples’ own experiences, they’re right. At the same time, I’ve had my own experiences that have formed my own ideas about what’s right for ME and for how I start my horses, and I fully recognize that my way isn’t going to be viewed as The Right Way by many. Shoot, my own “right way” has varied even from horse to horse and over time.

The same concept is true for so many things when it comes to horses. No two people do everything exactly the same way, yet… their horses are still happy and healthy. Just because I think I’m right doesn’t automatically mean the other person is wrong, and vice versa. For so many things, “right” can take many different forms, depending. The horses seem to care a lot less about all these nitty gritty nuances than their humans do, and they definitely aren’t saying rude shit to each other on the internet. Maybe we can take a cue from them. Maybe, even though someone else’s way might look a lot different from ours, we can just look at their happy healthy horses  and say “okay… maybe they’re right too“.

Or, ya know, we can just keep fighting about stuff on facebook. It’s entertaining, if nothing else.

By far the best thing about our new living situation is being able to have 100% control over my horses’ care. I was a boarder for 20 years, and while there is a lot to be said for the relative ease of it, nothing holds a candle to having your horses in your backyard and being able to customize their care however you please. Knock on wood, both boys are thriving. Henry in particular.

He’s always been a difficult horse to manage in the winter. He loses weight, he gets ulcery, and the past few years he’s even been prone to little colic episodes. I’ve always thought that it had to do with a few things: 1) the pasture not being as good in the winter. Most places he’s lived didn’t have the best grass at any time, but especially not in the winter. 2) increased stall time. Pasture board has not been an option for him, and the soil in this part of the country can be particularly awful when it’s wet. Like… extremely slippery, suck the shoes right off of their feet type mud, and pastures destroyed very easily by turning horses out on them when they’re wet. So winter has inevitably meant that there may be times when he had to stay in for days at a time, and none of his stalls had runs, so he wasn’t able to move around much. I’d go hand walk him, but that’s definitely not the same. 3) not enough forage. Most boarding barns won’t feed more than 2 flakes per meal, which I get, hay is expensive here. But that’s just not enough, especially if the pasture isn’t good, and extra-especially if they’re going to be inside for long stretches. Throwing them 2 flakes of hay at 5pm means they’re out by 8, which usually meant they’d be standing for the next 10-12 hours with nothing.

I tried a lot of things to get around this. I bought extra hay and stuffed slow feed nets. I fed supplements. I tried different feed. I treated him for ulcers. I sweet-talked the barn help to come back down and throw him more hay, and asked them to give him a flake of alfalfa in the morning before he got his grain, and also would they mind turning him out in the all-weather arena for a few minutes if the pastures were too wet (thank god for that particular barnworker, he put up with a lot from me). Often boarding means that you try to make the best you can of the situation you’ve got. Still, though… problems persisted every winter.

Having complete control over everything this winter, and a facility that’s a bit more horse-friendly, has made all the difference in the world. First of all, the winter pasture here is quite good. Henry’s especially, because he’s out by himself and there’s more grass in his spaces than one horse can eat. Second, the soil in this particular sliver of the area is very sandy, which means it’s basically never muddy, and even when it is, it’s not slick. It can take an amazing amount of water and still be totally perfect for turnout, so he’s not stuck inside unless it’s actively deathstorming. Third, they’re not stalled as much. They’re turned out by 5:30am and I’m bringing them in around 6pm, plus they have runs off their stalls, so they’re still able to move around quite a bit even when they’re “in”. No more standing in a 12 x 12 for 14+ hour stretches. Lastly, I control how much hay he gets and when. He gets a flake of alfalfa and a flake of coastal with dinner, then at night check I give them more coastal. He likes to spend a few hours every night standing in his run staring into the woods, and he takes one good long sleep inside in his shavings, so usually he’s still got a teeny bit of hay leftover by breakfast. Never an empty stomach.

All of those things combined have led to a chonkier, happier, healthier winter Henry than I’ve ever had before. No signs of ulcers whatsoever this year, and I’ve even been able to cut his grain way back. He’s eating less than half the amount he was before. He’s shiny, he feels looser in his body, and most of all he just seems happy. I’m able to ride him super consistently since the footing is so good, and he seems relaxed in this quieter environment (except for that cursed ball, of course).

I think it probably also helps that so far we’ve had a relatively mild winter, although Texas is apparently planning on getting white girl wasted tomorrow. Still though, the cold snaps haven’t lasted very long.

Presto is in the middle of some particularly interesting growth spurts, so while he doesn’t look quite as good (unless you’re really into llamas) he’s got more room to run and play than he’s ever had, and plenty of grass and hay to eat, so he’s healthy and happy too. Knock on more wood, of course. Because horses.

My weekdays tend to be stretched pretty thin, time wise, between work/commute/riding/cleaning stalls. The fact that the days are getting longer (praise) definitely helps, but still… Monday through Friday’s daylight hours tend to be packed pretty tight. Therefore most of the non-essential or not-daily tasks around the farm tend to get saved for weekends, which also usually works out fine since SO comes out on Saturdays. This Saturday though, he was off with his rocket club, so I was on my own. I decided to stick to the same “Saturday Workday” format though, since it makes Sundays nice and relaxing.

I do let myself sleep in on weekends, in that I don’t set my alarm. Generally this means I’m awake sometime between 5 and 6, because I’m so wired that way by now. It’s still nice to not wake up to an alarm, no matter what time it is, and 5:30 feels pretty nice when you’re usually up at 4:45. I fed the horses, turned them out, and went back inside to start doing laundry and putting away dishes (and possibly got distracted by the puzzle for half an hour) while I waited for the stores to start opening up. Then I drove into town to pick up a new bag of cookies for the horses (they were down to like a few handfuls, it was almost an emergency). I got home, cleaned stalls, spread new shavings, dumped and scrubbed and refilled water buckets, put their evening hay in, and then raked and swept the barn aisle and tack room. Then ran the manure spreader, walked all the fence lines putting t-post covers back on (Presto loves to pull them off and it drives me BATTY), and re-set the jumps in the field. I dragged the arena, replaced some light bulbs in the house and barn that had burned out, and put a fresh coat of Chew Stop on the section of wooden fence that those idiots will not stop gnawing on. I fixed a few fence boards that were coming loose, picked up dog poop, gathered up all the trash from the barn/feed room/house, and hand-washed Henry’s embarrassingly dirty jump pad and flatwork boots. To cap off the morning I went back inside and cleaned the house, and finished doing laundry with a load of linens. By noon, everything was done and in order. Very productive and satisfying morning.

Then my dad came out to see the property, since he’s never seen it before, and I gave him the tour complete with a “this is where the tiny house is gonna go” highlight. He’s so nice that he brought an apple for the horses, but my turdhole jerkfaces don’t like apples and were rude AF, sniffing it before rejecting it with an “eeewwww grosss” expression. Thank goodness for the retired broodmare, she stepped up the plate and ate the whole thing. Mine are the worst. Then we headed into town for a late lunch at my favorite local restaurant, where I soldiered through chicken fried chicken and red velvet cheesecake until I wanted to puke. Yeah I know… real tough life.

The perk of a busy Saturday was a leisurely Sunday. I slept til 6:15. SIX. FIFTEEN. And I’d passed out before like 9:30 the night before, so that was some solid sleep right there. Guess I was tired. I rolled out of bed, fed the horses, put a little air back into Presto’s already long-suffering ball, turned them out, and went back inside. I finished my jigsaw puzzle. I laid in bed reading for an hour. I watched my recorded Project Runway episode (look, it’s literally the only tv I watch, give me this one indulgence). I puzzled the total mystery of who tossed the ball over the fence.

I put on some riding clothes, brought Henry in, tacked up, and rode. I went back in and ate my leftovers from lunch the day before, got lost in Reddit, then came back out and cleaned stalls and cleaned/refilled the water troughs. I brought Presto in, groomed him, and sticked him.

As soon as I turned him back out he went straight to the pond and rolled. I quit. Then I read some more, pondered over how to coordinate a pad with some burgundy sparkle boots in a way that didn’t feature overwhelming blobs of burgundy, shopped online for my next puzzle, took a shower, and started dinner. I went out and brought the horses in, fed them, and parked myself with my book again until it was time to do night check and go to bed.

Truth be told, I’m not sure a weekend gets any better than that. Getting enough done to feel like a productive person: check. Having enough downtime to recharge: check. Lots of playing with ponies: check. Oh, and the weather? Mid 70’s and sunny both days. I could do this every weekend. Sign. Me. Up.

Hope everyone else had an equally delightful weekend? What were you up to?

Remember on Wednesday how the parting words of my post were “What kind of shenanigans will Presto get up to today? Stay tuned to find out. I’m sure it’ll be something.”? Bless him, he never fails to deliver.

I was secretly a little disappointed because up to that point he hadn’t shown a ton of interest in his ball. He’d played with it a little on Monday, mostly when I made him, but otherwise I hadn’t seen him touch it. And then I got home on Wednesday, rode Henry, and was in the barn cleaning stalls when I heard a commotion. I looked up, and there was Presto out in the field, chasing his ball. He was running after it, stomping on it, laying on it… the whole 9 yards. I WAS SO EXCITED. THIS IS WHAT I HAD DREAMED OF WHEN I BOUGHT THE BALL.

And once he started playing with the ball, he didn’t stop. On Wednesday he played with it for a good hour while I cleaned stalls, and when I got home on Thursday somehow it had found it’s way into the pond and was deflated by a good 4″ from what it had been that morning. Presto came with me to the pond to fish it out, I tossed it to him, and he took off with it again. Clearly he’s really gotten into now. I’ve got a good 20 minutes of video on my phone of him playing with it on my phone at this point, because I keep stopping what I’m doing to film it. I might be even more entertained than Presto.

The baby dressage horse, JB, who is still quite skeptical of it, even played with it a little bit yesterday too. He mostly tries to kick it or stomp it to death, but still. Last night I put some air back in it and tossed it back out in the pasture for them. It’s too cute, I can’t get enough.

So since it’s Friday and it’s been a long week, and a long January, I compiled my favorite few minutes so far of Presto playing with his ball. I think it’s what the world needs right now. I know it’s what I need, at least.

Happy Friday!