Horses have been at the fore front of our country dream and through the guidance of one of our new friends we have been introduced to Canada's national horse breed called the Canadian, the French Canadian or the Little Iron Horse.
These big hearted, robust horses are ingrained in the history of Eastern Canada and came very close to becoming extinct. Luckily the government and horse enthusiasts banded together to bring back the breed and next week we will receive the 2 young Canadian horses that we have bought.
Both of our Canadians are black with big brown soft eyes, long manes, and tails that touch the ground. The little mare, Nimble, is 4 and has had a little training under saddle but needs lots of time and exposure to life outside of her barn and the gelding, Poet, is 3 years old with no training at all.
I wasn't sure at first that I had the inclination to train 2 young horses but the moment I saw their fluid movement, natural extension, and kind eyes I was hooked.
In preparation for their arrival Eric and I have spent days reinforcing our pasture fence posts, re-stringing the wire fence and figuring out the proper way to set up the ground for our electric fencing. We also had to dig a 35 foot trench in stone filled ground, knock through a bigger opening in the paddock shelter and take down 2 walls in the barn. It has been a busy week that rewarded us with aching muscles and big smiles as we now impatiently await our newcomers.
In addition to getting the barn and pasture ready for the horses....a job that will never be finished as now we are starting to replace the lighting....we knew we would have to get some hay to take us through our first winter. I placed 1 call to a horse lady down the road and within a few hours I was getting calls back from all over our area from people advising us who to and who not to buy hay from....the joy of a close knit community!
After many discussions and one visit from a local horse guru we settled on buying from Mr. Leahman Smith, a nice old fella who has a big hay operation and whose grin can put people instantly at ease.
Leahman stopped by one afternoon to show off his wares and we agreed a price for 450 bales with him saying he'd give me a call when he was coming by to drop off the hay. This was perfect as Eric is allergic to hay so it would give me time to drum up a few helping hands.
That evening I planned a romantic dinner, slipped into a nice dress and waited for Eric to get home from work. He was thrilled at my surprise but just as we were settling in for our cozy evening at home we heard a rumble out on the road....
Next thing we see is a huge truck and trailer stacked with hay pulling into the yard. The candles were blown out, the dress traded for jeans and off I set to help old Leahman and his young farm hand unload hay.
It wasn't long before we had made it through the first section of hay (Leahman carrying 2 bales to my 1) and then needed to reposition the truck so we could get to the rest. I shouted a warning about watching for the small ditch at the side of the drive but the young farm hand was getting impatient and directed the truck straight into it by accident. So there we were and by the light of the full moon we all struggled and strained to find a way to get the truck out. Wood was carried over, jacks were brought out, but no matter what we did the truck stayed stuck...hummm I hear a country song coming on.
Covered in hay, mud and sweat, Eric and the farmers pilled into our Infinity Q4 SUV....a vehicle soon to be traded for a practical farm truck... and set off back to town so they could get a tractor to pull out the trailer in the morning. Pulling in the drive at well after 9pm, Eric and I just scoffed a quick dinner before slipping into bed exhausted. It wasn't exactly the romantic evening I had planned but we both laughed at the antics of our first hay experience, enjoyed the warmth of each others arms, and slipped quietly off to sleep wondering what on earth tomorrow would bring.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Home :An Amazing Place To Be
Upon announcing that we were moving to New Brunswick, Eric and I were first met with a puzzled look and the question; Why?
This was then followed by a smile and the statement; The people are so nice there!
We've been in NB for about 3 months now and I can certainly attest that the people really are very nice and also a little different in comparison to out west.
Life moves a lot more slowly here and people will go out of their way for you if you show even the slightest interest in being a good neighbor. The flip side to this is that grudges are held for a very long time, maybe even generations and with the meeting of each new person we hear a new story about one of the other neighbors.
The first to come and say hello were friends of our farms former owners. They are a lovely couple who are about to be married and live just over the hill from us. Life tends to revolve around their kids, hunting, quadding, and Tim Horton's though I wouldn't say it is necessarily in that order.
Next was a truck filled with 2 couples who showed up to make the introductions. Here we met our closest neighbors (who proudly lived on their land for 10+ years with no power while raising there 5 children and home schooling them) and their best friends Gail and her husband Junior ( he has another name but no one here knows him as anything but Junior so od knows what it is!). From this happy four-some we learned all about the pit falls of our dirt road, the pain of the snow plow and that our apples were to be picked right away so as not to entice the bears closer to the house.....Picking didn't do the job though as bears have been spotted a few times on our road and one has had to be shot for bothering someones horses.
We also met Roland who had been described to us as ' Special', Different', and a few more colorful names. Roland turns his hand to anything from making maple syrup to refurbishing old wood pallets and the remnants of his escapades litter his front yard. His public belief that he has the right to cut down a tree or hunt an animal should he need it, despite the time or the place has resulted in more than a few enemies around here,but we accepted his gift of home made maple syrup and his friendly smile and decided to take a neutral stance on the local politics.
With each new person, comes a new story and the chance to see an integral thread to the beautiful tapestry we are weaving ourselves into. No matter if it is the wonderful horse-obsessed woman at the Co-Op, the Eco warrior manning the environmental booth at the farmers market, or the amazing Danielle who has introduced his passion of saving the Canadian horse with us. All have made us feel like we are home and home is an amazing place to be!
This was then followed by a smile and the statement; The people are so nice there!
We've been in NB for about 3 months now and I can certainly attest that the people really are very nice and also a little different in comparison to out west.
Life moves a lot more slowly here and people will go out of their way for you if you show even the slightest interest in being a good neighbor. The flip side to this is that grudges are held for a very long time, maybe even generations and with the meeting of each new person we hear a new story about one of the other neighbors.
The first to come and say hello were friends of our farms former owners. They are a lovely couple who are about to be married and live just over the hill from us. Life tends to revolve around their kids, hunting, quadding, and Tim Horton's though I wouldn't say it is necessarily in that order.
Next was a truck filled with 2 couples who showed up to make the introductions. Here we met our closest neighbors (who proudly lived on their land for 10+ years with no power while raising there 5 children and home schooling them) and their best friends Gail and her husband Junior ( he has another name but no one here knows him as anything but Junior so od knows what it is!). From this happy four-some we learned all about the pit falls of our dirt road, the pain of the snow plow and that our apples were to be picked right away so as not to entice the bears closer to the house.....Picking didn't do the job though as bears have been spotted a few times on our road and one has had to be shot for bothering someones horses.
We also met Roland who had been described to us as ' Special', Different', and a few more colorful names. Roland turns his hand to anything from making maple syrup to refurbishing old wood pallets and the remnants of his escapades litter his front yard. His public belief that he has the right to cut down a tree or hunt an animal should he need it, despite the time or the place has resulted in more than a few enemies around here,but we accepted his gift of home made maple syrup and his friendly smile and decided to take a neutral stance on the local politics.
With each new person, comes a new story and the chance to see an integral thread to the beautiful tapestry we are weaving ourselves into. No matter if it is the wonderful horse-obsessed woman at the Co-Op, the Eco warrior manning the environmental booth at the farmers market, or the amazing Danielle who has introduced his passion of saving the Canadian horse with us. All have made us feel like we are home and home is an amazing place to be!
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
An Unexpected Joy
Today is the perfect Autumn day.
The air is cool and crisp, the sun is high and bright in the periwinkle sky, and the fall leaves are rusty orange and sunset yellow.
Today I step out into the Autumn glory with my white plastic washing basket. It is filled with damp clothes and I begin to hang them on the line to dry.
The washing line is perfectly hung between a group of large birch trees with stripy silvery bark and the edge of my covered porch allowing me to rescue my clean laundry from an unexpected rain shower without ever having to get wet.
It is stunning to me that I can find such complete joy from something so simple as the perfectly placed washing line. Even more stunning is the bliss I feel to be doing laundry on this sunny fall day.
I pick up a large cream sheet and inhale the scent of my freshly washed bedding. Knowing how it will feel slightly coarse on my skin tonight when I first slip into bed but that it will give way to a smoothness as my body warms it and that I will be soothed by its airy aroma.
The moist material feels cool against my skin and I pause for a moment, deciding how to maneuver the large piece of cloth so as not to let it touch the ground. Once wrangled onto the line, I snap a few simple wooden pegs in place to secure my sheet and use the pully to dangle it out over the garden.
The dogs are playing and running across the large expansive lawn, darting between the trees and running down the trail that leads from our garden into the woods. I see them turn and race each other back towards my place on the deck, jumping and knocking at one another to try and get an advantage and win their race. As if my laundry were the finish line they barrel towards it, panting and bright eyed. I see them take note of the flapping fabric that snaps in the air like sails at sea and I wonder for a moment if they will jump at it and pull it down onto the rather-to-long grass. But no, the laundry is saved by both a gusty breeze that pushes my sails into the sky and by the chattering red squirrel that has become the immediate focus of the two curious dogs. They rush forward with new vigor and bark at the bottom of the tree that is protecting the squirrel who teases the dogs by jumping from branch to branch and chattering incessantly at them.
I hear a voice in my head chanting 'You can't catch me, tweedle deedle dee.'
I laugh at the scene of squirrel versus dog and then take a final look at this piece of heaven before me and my basket head inside to continue our day.
A five minute task, a chore most would say but for me it is such an unexpected joy, a welcomed yet unexpected joy.
The air is cool and crisp, the sun is high and bright in the periwinkle sky, and the fall leaves are rusty orange and sunset yellow.
Today I step out into the Autumn glory with my white plastic washing basket. It is filled with damp clothes and I begin to hang them on the line to dry.
The washing line is perfectly hung between a group of large birch trees with stripy silvery bark and the edge of my covered porch allowing me to rescue my clean laundry from an unexpected rain shower without ever having to get wet.
It is stunning to me that I can find such complete joy from something so simple as the perfectly placed washing line. Even more stunning is the bliss I feel to be doing laundry on this sunny fall day.
I pick up a large cream sheet and inhale the scent of my freshly washed bedding. Knowing how it will feel slightly coarse on my skin tonight when I first slip into bed but that it will give way to a smoothness as my body warms it and that I will be soothed by its airy aroma.
The moist material feels cool against my skin and I pause for a moment, deciding how to maneuver the large piece of cloth so as not to let it touch the ground. Once wrangled onto the line, I snap a few simple wooden pegs in place to secure my sheet and use the pully to dangle it out over the garden.
The dogs are playing and running across the large expansive lawn, darting between the trees and running down the trail that leads from our garden into the woods. I see them turn and race each other back towards my place on the deck, jumping and knocking at one another to try and get an advantage and win their race. As if my laundry were the finish line they barrel towards it, panting and bright eyed. I see them take note of the flapping fabric that snaps in the air like sails at sea and I wonder for a moment if they will jump at it and pull it down onto the rather-to-long grass. But no, the laundry is saved by both a gusty breeze that pushes my sails into the sky and by the chattering red squirrel that has become the immediate focus of the two curious dogs. They rush forward with new vigor and bark at the bottom of the tree that is protecting the squirrel who teases the dogs by jumping from branch to branch and chattering incessantly at them.
I hear a voice in my head chanting 'You can't catch me, tweedle deedle dee.'
I laugh at the scene of squirrel versus dog and then take a final look at this piece of heaven before me and my basket head inside to continue our day.
A five minute task, a chore most would say but for me it is such an unexpected joy, a welcomed yet unexpected joy.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
We packed up our things and landed in heaven
It has been a long time since I placed my fingers on the keyboard and felt the perfect amount of resistance to the pressure I apply. It is a eagerness and a thrill to see what will come when I close my eyes and simply let my fingers dance where they may...and then go back and fix all the typos.
It has been a while since I last wrote here and so much has happened since then.
I suppose I should start with the fact that I am now writing from the other side of Canada. The move to NB was stressful, busy, confusing, emotional and it was everything we had hoped for and more.
The drive across Canada alone is worthy of a novel. Never could I of imagined how large Canada is had I not had the opportunity to spend a week driving from the West coast to the East coast. Each day brought on a new province and a new adventure. Oceans, mountains, rolling hills, big skies, dancing fields of gold, every version of green that nature can create, and the sun setting on oceans posing as lakes. It was such an amazing gift to get to see a small sample of what Canada has to offer.
after a weeks vacation in Quebec it was off for our last days drive to our new home town.
Now that I am some what settled in this amazing piece of heaven I will write more and more about the quirky neighbors, the stunning sun sets and the sassy squirrels but for now I wish you all a good night and provide the promise that I am back and filled with stories and insights to share.
Love and light....
It has been a while since I last wrote here and so much has happened since then.
I suppose I should start with the fact that I am now writing from the other side of Canada. The move to NB was stressful, busy, confusing, emotional and it was everything we had hoped for and more.
The drive across Canada alone is worthy of a novel. Never could I of imagined how large Canada is had I not had the opportunity to spend a week driving from the West coast to the East coast. Each day brought on a new province and a new adventure. Oceans, mountains, rolling hills, big skies, dancing fields of gold, every version of green that nature can create, and the sun setting on oceans posing as lakes. It was such an amazing gift to get to see a small sample of what Canada has to offer.
after a weeks vacation in Quebec it was off for our last days drive to our new home town.
Now that I am some what settled in this amazing piece of heaven I will write more and more about the quirky neighbors, the stunning sun sets and the sassy squirrels but for now I wish you all a good night and provide the promise that I am back and filled with stories and insights to share.
Love and light....
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