A few weeks ago I did something I’ve never done before: booked a photo shoot for my horses. Aside from show photos I have precisely zero professional photos of my horses. I know that those soft-evening-light, wear-a-nice-outfit-and-pose-with-your-horse type of photos are really popular on Instagram, and they’re pretty, but it’s definitely just… not my bag. I did a very tiny bit of mostly sports modeling years ago to earn extra cash and god I was just so uncomfortable. I learned that I really don’t like being in front of a camera. At all. If you ever see any posed photo shoots from me, I’ve 100% been body snatched, send help immediately. However, I definitely love a good theme photo, and I also love photos of my horses, so when a young local photographer posted about a holiday special, I went for it, opting for black background pics of just the boys.

Fittingly, the shoot was set for the day after Thanksgiving. Perfect time for a Christmas theme. I spent the previous afternoon finalizing what the boys would wear and getting everything cleaned up. I had scoured Amazon earlier in the week to find an antler headband for Presto (because you KNOW he’s a reindeer), which isn’t as simple a task as it seems. His ears are a good 6+ inches long, so I had to find the longest possible antlers to make sure they wouldn’t just get lost behind his ears. Not the weirdest Amazon scour that I’ve ever done, but it might rank top five.

I trimmed up their manes a little bit, and chopped off their grown-out bridlepaths. I don’t take off whiskers or ear hair, so those remained untouched, but I did scrub all the dirt off of Presto’s one sock. And yes, every time I have to clean that little sock I bitch about it endlessly. There’s a lot to be said for Henry’s delightful plain bay. It was a bit too cold for baths (and also I’m not that dedicated) so instead I busted out the vacuum. Turns out the barn owner already had one, so I didn’t have to buy one. Henry thought the vacuum was going to eat him, but dubiously acquiesced after some reassurance. Presto, true to form, thought the vacuum was AWESOME and seemed to enjoy it. Because of course he did.

When I asked you guys for bridle opinions I was already leaning toward the hunt bridle, which got the overwhelming majority of the vote. For Presto I thought his green rope and leather Kincade halter was just a little too busy on his already busy face. I knew if I put him in his bridle he’d just chomp and make faces the whole time, but I didn’t have his plain leather halter with me, and his navy leather halter seemed like it would clash (yes, okay, he has a lot of halters). So I went and dug out the black Kavalkade halter he showed in last year, which is a cob size. I had to drop it to all the loosest possible holes, but it worked.

Look at me, I was prepared. They were going to look great!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. HA.

The next morning was foggy, with that heavy mist in the air that just makes everything feel heavy. I fed around 6 but the photographer wasn’t scheduled to come until 9, so there’s no way I was going to leave everyone inside for 3 hours. I figured I’d turn them out for a bit and go get them around 8:15-8:30. I turned them out, cleaned the stalls, dumped and refilled the water buckets, spread the manure, then went back in the house to eat breakfast and change. About half an hour later I hear something. Is that… is that RAIN? There was NOTHING on the radar when I turned them out. But sure enough, I look out the window and it’s freaking pouring. By the time I put on my shoes it had already tapered off – it was just a small little pop-up shower, intense but very short-lived. The horses thought this was very exciting and were galloping around chasing each other. It was now 8 o’clock and they were SOAKING WET and absolutely riled up beyond belief.

Naturally I panicked. I went out and grabbed them and brought them into the barn, trying to dry them with towels. Presto is really hairy and was absolutely dripping wet. His previously clean sock was also now even filthier than it had been before I cleaned it the night before. I had each of them in a crosstie and went back and forth trying to get them dry while the horses still left in turnout continued to run around, which continued to amp up the two I’d brought in. Finally I remembered that the vacuum also had a blow-dry setting, so I grabbed it and tried that. Henry absolutely would not have it, but Presto didn’t protest. There I was, 8:30am the day after Thanksgiving, blow-drying my 2yo. This is normal right?

The photographer was early and while Henry was at least mostly dry, Presto certainly was not. I’d been pretty successful with his front half, but his back and butt were still soaked. I apologized to the photographer (I literally had ONE JOB) but she didn’t seem phased and said we could work around it.

We started with Henry, and left Presto in the crossties while we took him out into the courtyard. That pissed Presto off. He thought we were abandoning him all alone, so he proceeded to paw and tapdance the entire time we were working on Henry.

Then we switched horses. After Presto’s shenanigans I figured I’d tie Henry out near where we were shooting to try to help make things easier… which it did. Until Henry untied himself and took off. OMG welcome to the circus. I went and retrieved Henry, and tied him over in the barn instead. He promptly untied himself AGAIN and was off AGAIN. This time I retrieved him and hooked him up to a crosstie (good luck getting out of that without thumbs!), and he proceeded to flail around like a fish on a hook, pooping all over the aisle and churning up a cloud of dust. It was embarrassing. He was terrible.

By the time we finished the photo shoot I kind of hated both of them. They acted like a couple of feral hooligans, which is pretty out of character but still really annoying. I’m glad the pictures turned out great, though. Henry looks absolutely stunning (maybe I’m biased but also I’m right) and the hunt bridle was definitely the right choice. And Presto is ridiculously cute as a reindeer. Very apropos.

The pictures are almost enough to make me forget how bad they (ok mostly Henry) were. Almost. I think it’ll be a while before I ever try to wrangle those morons for a photo shoot again. That is WORK. Props to you people who do this regularly. Many thanks to Rowan Ahearn Photography for her infinite patience and somehow still managing to get great shots despite all the mayhem.

It’s been over a month now since I moved out to the farm full time. My days are longer, I get up earlier, and I perpetually have evidence of horse somewhere on my person, but… I’m loving it.

Mostly because my days are bookended by horses. I get up, I feed the horses, I smooch Henry while he’s eating (boy does he hate that), then turn everyone out (always reminding Quinnie that she’s in charge, and telling everyone else to make good choices) before I get ready for work. Then after work I come home, change, and back out to the barn I go. Granted, there is definitely more work involved, I’m not just hanging around petting ponies. Cleaning stalls, driving the spreader, adding shavings, dumping and refilling water buckets and troughs, throwing hay, hauling feed, stopping the idiot babies from chewing on the fucking fences (I am on my last shred of sanity with that one), etc etc. There’s definitely always something to do.

Spending more time with my horses doing simple care tasks as opposed to just showing up every day and riding, like I did when they were boarded, has shifted the focus of our relationship a bit. I get to see every little detail of their care, right on down to how many times they poop at night and where. How much hay they eat, how much water they drink, their general attitude… all of that is on me. And since they’re right there in the backyard, and I’m the one in control of it, I can tweak whatever I want, whenever I want, whenever it’s needed. It brings the relationship I have with them up to a whole new level. I’m not just the rider or the bill-payer… I’m everything.

It kind of makes the riding part feel a little bit less important, or at least not so much the center of my world. I have a lot more to do than just that. and my time with them can be more… relaxed. Less regimented. The whole dynamic is different, like I feel more at liberty to just enjoy them and less pressure to get something out of them. I really love being able to see them every single day, multiple times a day, and know everything about their lives. I love being able to look out the window and see what they’re up to, or walk outside and scratch their withers, or take way too many videos of them doing things that amuse me. Yeah I’m probably a stalker. I even pull up the cameras several times a day when I’m at work so I can see what they’re doing and make sure everything looks okay.

Even on days like yesterday, where I had to get up at 4 to clean their stalls before work, since it was super disgusting outside and they needed to stay in, it didn’t feel like a chore. Sure, they all completely trashed their stalls during the day anyway, making a disastrous mess (JB dug a hole. Dug. A. Frickin. Hole.). And sure, when I got home and turned them out for a few hours they ran around like complete and total morons almost the whole time. And yes, when it was time to come in for dinner, Presto and JB suddenly couldn’t remember how to find the gate to get from the back field to the front one, so I had to run out there in the semi-darkness and lead them to it using my jacket wrapped around Presto’s neck while also fending off “OH GOOD YOU CAME TO PLAY WITH US” attacks from JB and watching Henry gallop and scream up and down the adjacent fence line. Some days it’s a circus.

Yet, even those days are great days.

But my absolute favorite thing, my very favorite part of every day, is night check. Before bed I always go back out and check on everyone, top off waters, dole out more hay, put on blankets if necessary, and give everyone a goodnight cookie. I give Presto a few smooches on the nose (while exclaiming “this cookie will cost you two nose smoochies, pay up!” like a complete and utter psychopath), and Henry manages to swindle at least 2 cookies out of me, plus a few minutes worth of wither scratches. I stand there, just enjoying the company of my best boys, and everything just feels right in the world. I’m sleeping less and working more, and I show up for morning meetings with hay or shavings or horse boogers on me more often than not, but I’m not sure that I’ve ever felt so content or so connected to my boys.  There’s something absolutely priceless about that.

I am generally not a very sparkly person, either in personality or when it comes to bling. Sarcasm and dark humor come naturally to me, and my taste is relatively plain and boring aside from the admittedly perhaps slightly out of character pompom obsession (#pomclubforlyfe). The only reason I can tolerate a rhinestone browband on my dressage bridle is because the stones are black… it barely even counts.

I’m definitely not into the whole “can be seen from space” thing that is popular amongst the DQ’s and the western set and definitely some eventers as well. You know what I’m talking about.

My color palette is a snooze, usually falling solidly in the navy with black or gray or white range (or hunter green, when I’m feeling wild). I can’t help it, it’s who I am as a person. I mean, this was my idea of brightening up my navy/white XC colors by adding yellow (which was, for me, quite a bold choice as an accent color):

I’m not at all conservative or traditional as a general human being, so that’s certainly not the reason why I shy away from color or bling. My hair is currently burgundy (look at me getting into the holiday spirit), and before that it was a very dark purple. I have multiple tattoos. I’ve got a floral pair of Doc Martin’s, for god’s sake (because literally anything looks badass on a Doc Martin, I am a 90’s kid and this will be my stance until I die). Anyway, my color preferences clearly don’t stem from conservatism.

I suppose, at the base of things, I actually like pretty much any color if you just make it dark enough. I thought that I had an aversion to all sparkles or bright things, which makes sense if you know me, but lately I’ve come to realize that more and more blingy things are sneaking into my world. Like the hoof boot I got for Henry, for instance, which might be one of my favorite purchases of the year:

It’s magnificent. It’s a darker sparkle on a black base, so it’s not really BRIGHT or disco-ball-esque, but still… it’s so blingy that I can tell from many many yards away if Henry still has his boot on or not. The sun catches it just right and, well… it’s shiny. And that hoof boot has brought me waaaaaaaaaaaaaay more joy than any hoof boot ever should. I’m a little obsessed with it.

And then there are these, Presto’s Christmas gift from his mother (his actual horse mother Sadie, not to be confused with me, his hu-mom) with a little help from Auntie Michelle because Sadie doesn’t have thumbs or the internet or a bank account:

Your eyes do not deceive you, friends… those are navy glitter boots. AND I LOVE THEM. They barely count as blingy, but they’ve got that extra little bit of pizzazz that makes them interesting. Plus they’re NAVY. But sparkly they are, and I love them not just despite it, but actually… because of it. They remind me of the night sky.

These boots are when I realized that clearly it isn’t bling itself that I’m opposed to… it must just be bright, light colored bling. Silver, or gold, or… ok, anything that’s not black or navy or dark, I guess. It’s like I’m okay with making it glittery as long as it ultimately stays relatively dark and depressing and inside my preferred color palette. I’m sure this says something about me on a deeply psychological level.

I was discussing this self-revelation with Stacie (because come on she has like 623 pairs of tall boots and horse boots in every color and finish, who the heck else would you talk to about stuff like this?) and we came up with a name for it:

So I guess my style can be described simply from here on out as “Emo Sparkles”. Slide that broody attitude right on up here and put some black glitter on it, my friend. Who knew I would still be learning things like this about myself in my mid-30’s?

But really though, those navy glitter boots. ❤

I am here to testify to the fact that horses might not all be expensive to buy, but they’re definitely all expensive to keep. Need a walking, neighing, eating, pooping example of that?

I’m relatively certain that my horses have some kind of award, just between them, to see who can spend the most money. Like instead of employee of the month, it’s Equine of the Month, except their criteria is to see who can be the biggest spendthrift and clearly the “winner” must be the one that I love most. Pretty sure they’re keeping receipts. I’m not sure how to convince them that my love can and should be measured in cookies instead of dollars.

All of this is the really long preamble to say that Henry got his new glue-on shoes put on this weekend. Somehow, despite 20 years of horse ownership and over a dozen horses, I have never had a single glue-on shoe experience. Wedges, pads, eggbars, aluminum, stud holes, clips, square toes, trailers… been there, done that. But non-metal shoes, and glue-on shoes… nope. Until now.

The GluShu’s are a favorite of my vet and farrier, and my farrier uses them on several other horses with good success, so he’s quite comfortable with them. He said that the majority of his other clients horses are pasture-kept and still manage to keep them on for 6 week cycles with no trouble, so I really friggin hope that Henry didn’t hear him say that or there’s no way in hell he’ll keep them on that long. I mean, this is the horse that managed to pull off his other front shoe IN HIS STALL last week.

But at least Henry had done part of the farrier’s job for him, so we just had to remove the 45 layers of duct tape and vet wrap (I’ve been through a lot of wrapping supplies lately and also I’m crazy) from his fronts, then lightly trim and prep his feet. Farrier sanded the outsides a little bit, checked the shape of the shoe against the shape of his foot, then cleaned the hooves thoroughly to prep for the glue. The GlueShu is vulcanized rubber but the core is aluminum, so they can be shaped slightly to the foot if needed. Henry’s feet are quite round so not much had to be done – they fit him well. On went the glue, then the shoe, and then the farrier tightly saran-wrapped the foot to let it set. I’ve definitely never before had a farrier experience that smelled like a nail salon and looked like we were wrapping up Thanksgiving leftovers. First time for everything I guess?

Henry walked off looking pretty normal, and even seemed comfortable crossing the small patch of rocks at the entrance to his turnout. He looked great, really. Instead now I was the one in pain, writing the check. Ouuuucccccchhhhhh. Hope no one wanted a Christmas present and thank goodness I’m already stocked with ramen.

I’ve left Henry alone the past couple days to let him get used to his new kicks. I did give him access to his stall’s run again, which he was super happy about. No more spinning in circles in his stall. Yesterday afternoon he came GALLOPING up to the gate in his pasture and performed one of those majorly cringe-inducing and heart-stopping sliding stops at the last second, then turned around and trotted off looking quite sound. I’ll give him a few more days before I really try to properly assess how he’s looking, but he does seem pretty comfortable and happy in turnout, at least. We shall see! For now he kinda just looks like a huge nerd. But hey… if he wants to be sound and wear nerd shoes, I’m okay with that.

Me and Bobby were discussing (yeah, you should be cringing, that never ends well) blankets a while back when I was trying to talk myself into buying the unicorn or the giraffe blanket for Presto.

I ended up getting neither, because 1) cheap 2) neither of them was QUITE perfect. I didn’t love the graphic on either one, or the blanket color. Loved the content and the idea, of course, because what could possibly be more appropriate on a blanket for Presto. Henry is far too dignified for such nonsense, but Presto can definitely pull off a whacky print.

I did find one other unicorn print, and it was on green – Presto’s color! – but the graphic is awful. It’s like a unicorn and a fairy had a weird lime green baby.

Despite not generally being a fan of prints in general, I do love a good cutesy theme on a horse blanket. Like the Panda weatherbeeta one that’s out right now… doesnt suit either of my horses, but I love it anyway.

I also really liked this fox print.

So Bobby and I were talking and we decided there should totally be a company that prints custom graphics onto horse blankets. Like cafepress or zazzle, but instead of shirts… horse stuff! Pick your size and color, upload your graphic, and ta-da! You could have your barn logo, or a name, or even a poop emoji.

Would I make a blanket for Presto with poop emojis? Yes. Yes I would. Hunter green with poop emojis. Click Add to Cart. Done.

I mean I know logistically this would be way harder than printing shit on t-shirts, and probably impossible given how the machines work and the fabrics and stuff, but still… I’m living in a fantasy customized blanket printing land. Think about all the other products you could offer, too. Bridle bags. Boot bags. Helmet bags. Hay bags.

Bobby agreed that it was brilliant, because he could totally get a black blanket printed with red #HERRLERR (Halo’s official hashtag) all over it.

This is one of those ideas of mine that would totally work if only I was smarter, and had more money, and if it was a possible thing. Ya know, like all my other bright ideas.

What would you have printed on your horse’s blanket?