Birthdays

This Is 27--Happy Birthday, Tank!

February 18, 2022


Though like all registered American Quarter Horses, Tank turned another year older on Jan. 1, his actual foal date is Feb. 18. For reference, a 27-year-old horse is roughly equivalent to a 78-year-old human. (And to answer the question nearly everyone asks, horses live an average of 25-30 years.) 

Tank is finally starting to show his age, though he’s still in remarkably good shape for an old guy. I’m currently working with his vet and farrier on a non-life-threatening lameness issue that is keeping me from riding him. Even so, we have had to turn him out alone in a smaller enclosure because he was goofing with the younger horses and galloping around like a maniac because of the cooler weather. He still gets plenty of grooming, carrots, and treats, and I’m going to look into alternate activities to do with him while he’s temporarily sidelined, and for when riding is permanently off the table. Maybe I can teach him to paint! 

At the end of this month, we will have been together for 18 years. I’d wanted a horse since childhood, and when my husband and I were contemplating relocating to Florida (his home state) from California (mine), he sweetened the deal by promising that I could have a horse if we made the move. I don’t think either of us really thought that would be possible, but I filed that promise away for many years until time and finances made it possible to consider. Tank has been one of the best investments of time and money I’ve made in my life.

Tank has been a friend and partner through adventures, he’s taught me lessons in patience, sacrifice, kindness and courage. During our rides, he’s helped me dig deep to conquer fear. I’ve learned to put aside my own comfort to give him what he needs when he’s sick or injured (twice a day visits to the barn to flush wounds or medicate eyes during the height of summer heat and humidity…). I’ve cried into his mane, and allowed the sound of him munching hay soothe the sore spots in my heart. We’ve gone on trail rides, explored different types of terrain and jumps at Fannin Hill Farm, and hit the water together at a lake and the beach. I’ve spent hours just hanging out with him while he grazes. And as a bonus, I’ve met some of my closest friends at the two barns where he has lived. I’ve written about our experiences many times here on Catching Happiness. A few highlights:


I wrote about the process of finding him for the AQHA’s member magazine: “Why, Yes, That Was Me in the December Issue of America’s Horse.”



I’ve “learned to speak horse” and hosted horse birthday parties.

I’ve imagined what it would be like “If My Horse Had an Instagram Account.”

I’ve learned so many life lessons along the way, like this one.

And I’ve shared some of our more mundane experiences in “Look Mom, No Cavities!” and “A Little Off the Top and Sides and…Belly.”

Here are a few photos from our time together. Happy birthday, Tank—thank you for all the simple pleasures and everyday adventures!

Fannin Hill

Our first day together

Beach boy

Experimenting with riding without a bridle

Ho ho horse

In his prime, with a shining summer coat


The two of us just hanging out

Summer 2021

Tank and Paloma, the first of his lady friends at our new barn
Contemplating life

Snoozing
On the trail

Happy New Year 2022

Beach

Summer Rerun--A Gift for the Remembering Self

July 08, 2019

On Saturday, I drove by the place where I took Tank riding on the beach a few years ago, so I dug up this post from June of 2015 to share as a summer rerun. It was a lot of fun to remember this experience. I hope you’re giving your remembering self something happy to think about this summer! 

A few months ago, Laura Vanderkam used a term in a blog post that intrigued me: the remembering self. Vanderkam described riding the train to New York (from her home in Pennsylvania) on a Saturday night to hear a Christmas concert, even though she was pregnant, the weather was bad, she’d endured a difficult week, and so on. She wrote, “The remembering self deserves consideration in decisions too, not just the present self.”

This term resonated with me so much that I commented: “I love the phrase ‘the remembering self.’ It reminds me that often it’s the things we don’t do that we regret later in life.”  She responded: “I think it’s as much that the remembering self and the experiencing self [or the present self] value different things. The experiencing self is never 100% happy, because it occupies a corporal body that experiences little annoyances like an itchy nose, needing a bathroom before the concert starts, etc. The remembering self looks back on the wash of the experience and doesn’t see all of these details. It’s easy to over-value the experiencing self because it’s what we’re currently occupying, but the remembering self deserves some consideration in all this too.” (Read the entire post here.)

Sometimes I let my experiencing self run the show too much. If it’s hard, scary, or uncomfortable, my experiencing self doesn’t want any part of it. (She’s kind of a wimp.) If I let her dictate what I do, my poor remembering self has nothing of interest to reflect on! Remembering self is not impressed by excuses.

All this is on my mind because last week I checked off an item on my summer bucket list: I took Tank to the beach.

All photos taken by Gayle Bryan

I confess that though I wanted (in theory) to take my horse to the beach, I was anxious about actually doing it. I knew it would be very, very hot, I knew I’d be riding with a bareback pad and halter instead of a saddle and bridle, and I knew that my horse can get excited and strong (i.e., hard to control) when he goes to a new place. I knew the trip would take most of a day, and that I’d be good for almost nothing after spending so much time in the sun, thereby throwing off my weekly schedule. I knew I’d have to wake up earlier than normal and to come up with the money to pay for the trip. My “experiencing self” was full of worries and complaints. But I managed to shut her up for a little while so I could give my remembering self this gift.

And while my experiencing self did endure some uncomfortable moments, they’re becoming hazier by the day. My remembering self is already delighted to look back on the adventure and proud of herself for stepping out of her comfort zone. I know Tank enjoyed the change of scenery, but he was less than enamored with actually going in the water, even though all three of the other horses marched right in, and a couple of them went in deep enough to swim. Some of his expressed thoughts:

“This stuff moves. Is it really safe to walk in it?”

“There’s too much slimy green stuff along the edge, it looks like it might grab me.”

 “WHAT IS THAT BLACK THING ON THE SAND?!” (It was a discarded t-shirt.)

Despite his skepticism, he eventually relaxed and splashed through the water with everyone else, and when we were on the beach itself, I gave him his head so he could explore, which he loved. And he especially loved snacking on the patches of grass we found. Instead of merely walking on the beach, we trotted and cantered on the sand and it was totally awesome. Even experiencing self had to agree.

When you feel overwhelmed at the thought of something you really want to do, how can you help the experiencing self to relax so you can give your remembering self this gift? It helps me to learn all I can about the upcoming event/experience, to look for support from friends or family, and to ease into what I want to do in a way that feels comfortable to me. And even if it’s still scary, I know my memory of it will likely smooth over the fear and remember the joy. Some things will just be more fun to have done than to do.

What are some memories your remembering self especially enjoys?




Birthdays

A Tank Update

February 18, 2019


Today is my horse Tank’s 24th birthday! As a registered American Quarter Horse, he “officially” turns a year older on Jan. 1, but I still celebrate his actual birthday—or foal date, as it’s known in the horse world.

As you may remember, back in November I moved him to a new boarding barn. This was wrenching for me, and I was worried about how he’d handle the change. We’d been at our old boarding barn for all of our 15 years together. Happily, he’s done very well overall.

The new barn was still under construction when we moved, but it was completed enough for the horses to move in about a week ago. It’s a big, airy space (and smells like new wood). Tank seems to really like his new stall.




Especially the way it tastes. (Face palm.)



We’ve faced a few challenges since the move—he developed a case of hives, and then a painful hoof abscess—both things have happened before and aren’t related to his new home. I’m also still trying to develop a routine of care and exercise for him. Most recently, though, he spooked one day while I was riding him and threw me. I pulled muscles I didn’t know I had trying to stay on, but I wasn’t seriously hurt. (Apparently there were horse-eating monsters in the woods bordering the field in which we were riding!)

Tank’s new schedule will involve being stalled part of the time and being turned out into various paddocks the rest of the time. He’s still getting used to being turned out in different areas with different horses nearby—he makes it clear he DOES NOT like being the first one turned out or brought in!

All this adjustment to different conditions can be hard on a horse, just like change can be hard for most people, myself included. I try to help him by going to see him as often as possible and not making any other changes in his management.

And while it may feel uncomfortable at first, change can also be beneficial. For horses, it can provide new stimulation and learning opportunities. For humans, change helps us be more flexible and creative. And, really, we’d become bored if nothing ever changed.

I’m trying to make the best of the recent changes in my life, and Tank is, too (I assume. He seems like he’s trying to understand what’s happening, and communicate his feelings about it!) Eventually, these changes will become the new normal…and then any further changes may feel uncomfortable! 

What changes have you experienced recently? How have you been coping?

Adversity

Feeling the Heat

August 25, 2017

Photo by Quino Al on Unsplash

August has been nothing but “feels like” temperatures over 100 degrees, twice-a-day trips to the barn to doctor a horse who is getting a little fed up with the routine*, buckets of sweat, changing my clothes two and three times a day, and trying to muster enough energy to keep up with the rest of my life. When I think about the past few weeks, I think of the word “heat”—both physical heat, and the “heat” of adversity.

Caring for an injured horse in August in Florida qualifies as adversity in that it’s physically grueling, expensive, worrisome, and the time and energy I’m expending taking care of him is being drawn from other areas of my life. It’s not a devastating situation, but it is challenging.

Life has turned up the heat—and while I may complain about it, heat is not all bad. We cook with it and create beautiful and useful things with it. Heat both softens and hardens. It strengthens and refines.

Heat—adversity—in our lives does the same for us. It distills and purifies our best qualities. It both softens our hearts and hardens our resolve. Sometimes it brings to light our worst qualities so we can acknowledge and work on them. If we never face even the smallest amount of adversity, we’ll be ill-equipped to cope when one of life’s inevitable traumas occurs.

Richelle E. Goodrich wrote in Making Wishes, “If you couldn’t sense heat, you’d not be alive. And if that heat never grew uncomfortable, you would never move. And if you were stagnant—unchallenged by unpredictable flares—you would never grow capable of shielding yourself from harsher flames. So yes, life was meant to drag you straight through the fire.”  

Coping with Tank’s minor injury has forced me to overcome laziness, become more creative, and plan more carefully so I can keep up with other responsibilities. I’ve had to pare away some inessentials because I simply do not have time or energy for them. I’ve had to push myself when I wanted to quit, and I’ve had to lie down and take a nap because I was too tired to do one more thing.

I like adversity about as much as I like August (not much, in case I’ve been unclear). I don’t wish for it, but I also try not to wish it away because I know there’s value in it. I learn, I grow, I become a more refined version of me. One better able to handle whatever adversity life chooses to throw at me next.

What has adversity taught you?

*Turns out, Tank has an abscessed tooth. The facial wound he presented three weeks ago was probably made by rubbing his face to relieve the pressure. The vet lanced the abscess, put him on antibiotics, and I continue to flush the wound twice a day. It’s just as much fun as it sounds.

Horses

The Horse Days of Summer

August 19, 2016


I complain a lot about the heat and humidity here in central Florida, but if I hadn’t moved here, I wouldn’t have my horse. I think it’s worth it. I board him at a small, family-run barn just a few minutes from my house. One of my simple pleasures is being around all the horses at the barn, enjoying the personalities that emerge. For such large, powerful, and beautiful animals, they can be remarkably silly. Here are some photos of a few of Tank’s friends and neighbors.


Elsa (loves peppermints)
Bella (more than a pretty face)
Sensitive Leo

Remy, playing with the broom

In summer, I ride less and hang out more, and just watching the horses is entertaining. For instance, Tank (right) approaching the geldings’ paddock. Asia pretending he doesn't notice him:


 Asia: “Oh, I didn't see you there. What’s up?”


Tank: “Nothing much, just grazing. Out here. And you’re not.”


Tank: “LOL!”


Asia: [Squeals and stomps his foot]

See what I mean? Silly.
What simple pleasure has this summer brought you?

Complications

Go Ahead--Complicate Your Life

January 18, 2016

The start of a new year often finds us resolving to simplify our lives, particularly if we’ve just come through a whirlwind of holiday activity. Magazine articles and blog posts promise to help us purge our belongings, simplify our schedules, and/or cut our wardrobes to 33 items. I feel the pull towards simplifying, especially when I’m cleaning my house or when I’m on the phone for the third time with a large Phone/Internet Company Who Shall Not Be Named trying to get a DVR replaced. The idea of scrapping it all and moving to the woods  becomes almost irresistible. How simple life would be, just me and the trees.

I agree that many times we make our lives overly complicated and stressful, and that there is a real need to slow down, pare down, and simplify.

However.

Some of the best things in life are complicated. Falling in love, having a baby, adopting a puppy, starting a business, buying a house—or a horse. Yes, we can make our lives too stressful and complicated for no good reason—but sometimes we have good reason. Those complications bring us both joy and meaning.

So if you’re contemplating an action you’re sure will bring complication into your life, I say: Go for it! I think what the simplification gurus are really aiming at anyway is this: Simplify some areas of life in order to have the mental and physical capacity to enjoy your complications. The goal is to discover what is the right level—and right type—of complication for you.

For example: Owning a horse is a complication. It’s an expensive and time-consuming hobby, and involves a large and sometimes unpredictable animal. Still, I wouldn’t trade the experience for any amount of simplicity and serenity. Tank is just one of the complications in my life I treasure, so I feel I can offer a little advice about allowing complications into your life. So here goes.
  • Will the complication bring you more joy than stress? Will inconveniences or sacrifices be worth it? In my own case, hearing Tank whinny when he sees me is worth the new shoes I don’t buy or the sleep I’ve lost when he was sick.
  • Simplify your life other areas. At home, plan simple meals, or let cleaning standards slide a little. Other hobbies and interests may have to be put aside for a while. I have several hobbies I’d like to get back to, but I simply don’t have the time to pursue all the things I’m interested in. Right now, Tank is number one because I won’t have him forever.
  • Establish routines to streamline your regular activities, but also become mindful of whether or not “the way I’ve always done it” is still right for you.
  • Ask for help, and make sure you accept it when it’s offered. I find this hard to do, but when I’ve asked for help, my friends and family have willingly pitched in—and I’m so grateful for that.
  • Prepare for the complication as best you can. How big is it, and is it temporary or permanent? Having a baby or starting your own business is more disrupting for a longer period than, say, planning a two-week vacation, and you should prepare accordingly.
  • Finally, take time to really enjoy your complication. If it’s not adding meaning and joy to your life, why are you doing it? Shake off any guilt that might arise. You want this, you’ve prepared for it—now enjoy it.

What are some of your favorite complications? How do you simplify in one area to make time for another?

One of my favorite complications

Horses

If My Horse Had an Instagram Account

August 07, 2015

No matter how old you are, every summer needs a little bit of silliness, don’t you think? Back in May, I shared photos that my cat might have posted if she had an Instagram account. Well, it’s a Friday in August (need I say more?) and I’ve had a busy week, so today I’ll turn the blog over to Tank and his (imaginary) Instagram account:

One of my jobs is to stand guard over our property. This is what I see from my post. Sometimes THINGS rustle around in there and I have to sound the alarm by running around and bucking.

This is where I do my work with my human. I like it best when we try something new. Or when we stand while she talks to the other riders. I could do that all day.

We’ve been jumping over this black thing lately. I could do more challenging jumps, but she’s still learning and I have to take care of her.

This is my best friend. We play together over the fence line, and sometimes he takes off my fly mask for me.

This thing sometimes dispenses treats when I spin it (you can see my teeth marks). It appeared in my paddock one year at what my human calls “Christmas time.”

Be it ever so humble, this is my very favorite thing. I’m a man of simple tastes.

I am handsome, am I not?

Happy Friday!

Beach

A Gift for the Remembering Self

June 29, 2015

A few months ago, Laura Vanderkam used a term in a blog post that intrigued me: the remembering self. Vanderkam described riding the train to New York (from her home in Pennsylvania) on a Saturday night to hear a Christmas concert, even though she was pregnant, the weather was bad, she’d endured a difficult week, and so on. She wrote, “The remembering self deserves consideration in decisions too, not just the present self.”

This term resonated with me so much that I commented: “I love the phrase ‘the remembering self.’ It reminds me that often it’s the things we don’t do that we regret later in life.”  She responded: “I think it’s as much that the remembering self and the experiencing self [or the present self] value different things. The experiencing self is never 100% happy, because it occupies a corporal body that experiences little annoyances like an itchy nose, needing a bathroom before the concert starts, etc. The remembering self looks back on the wash of the experience and doesn’t see all of these details. It’s easy to over-value the experiencing self because it’s what we’re currently occupying, but the remembering self deserves some consideration in all this too.” (Read the entire post here.)

Sometimes I let my experiencing self run the show too much. If it’s hard, scary, or uncomfortable, my experiencing self doesn’t want any part of it. (She’s kind of a wimp.) If I let her dictate what I do, my poor remembering self has nothing of interest to reflect on! Remembering self is not impressed by excuses.

All this is on my mind because last week I checked off an item on my summer bucket list: I took Tank to the beach.

All photos taken by Gayle Bryan

I confess that though I wanted (in theory) to take my horse to the beach, I was anxious about actually doing it. I knew it would be very, very hot, I knew I’d be riding with a bareback pad and halter instead of a saddle and bridle, and I knew that my horse can get excited and strong (i.e., hard to control) when he goes to a new place. I knew the trip would take most of a day, and that I’d be good for almost nothing after spending so much time in the sun, thereby throwing off my weekly schedule. I knew I’d have to wake up earlier than normal and to come up with the money to pay for the trip. My “experiencing self” was full of worries and complaints. But I managed to shut her up for a little while so I could give my remembering self this gift.

And while my experiencing self did endure some uncomfortable moments, they’re becoming hazier by the day. My remembering self is already delighted to look back on the adventure and proud of herself for stepping out of her comfort zone. I know Tank enjoyed the change of scenery, but he was less than enamored with actually going in the water, even though all three of the other horses marched right in, and a couple of them went in deep enough to swim. Some of his expressed thoughts:

“This stuff moves. Is it really safe to walk in it?”

“There’s too much slimy green stuff along the edge, it looks like it might grab me.”

 “WHAT IS THAT BLACK THING ON THE SAND?!” (It was a discarded t-shirt.)

Despite his skepticism, he eventually relaxed and splashed through the water with everyone else, and when we were on the beach itself, I gave him his head so he could explore, which he loved. And he especially loved snacking on the patches of grass we found. Instead of merely walking on the beach, we trotted and cantered on the sand and it was totally awesome. Even experiencing self had to agree.

When you feel overwhelmed at the thought of something you really want to do, how can you help the experiencing self to relax so you can give your remembering self this gift? It helps me to learn all I can about the upcoming event/experience, to look for support from friends or family, and to ease into what I want to do in a way that feels comfortable to me. And even if it’s still scary, I know my memory of it will likely smooth over the fear and remember the joy. Some things will just be more fun to have done than to do.

What are some memories your remembering self especially enjoys?



Animals

Eleven Years Rich

February 18, 2015

Our first day together

Today is Tank’s 20th birthday! In just a week and a half, I will have owned him for 11 years—longer than anyone before me. He is truly “mine” and I am the richer for it.

We rode together yesterday, all by ourselves, while the wind shook the trees and rolled a blue beach ball around the jump field, while a neighbor helped our barn owner move some large items with a piece of heavy equipment. Any one of those situations would have been a recipe for spooking and running when I first got Tank. Yesterday, he didn’t even bat an eyelash. I guess we’ve both matured in the past 11 years.

This quote sums up for me the miracle of a relationship with a horse:

“Riding is a partnership. The horse lends you his strength, speed and grace, which are greater than yours. For your part, you give him your guidance, intelligence and understanding, which are greater than his. Together, you can achieve a richness that alone neither can.” –Lucy Rees, “The Horse’s Mind.”


A recent photo

Thank you, Tank, for 11 years of simple pleasures and everyday adventures. Your birthday “cake” is on its way!


Laure Ferlita

Friday This and That, or Yes, I'm Still Here

January 09, 2015

I’ve been so busy with this and that I feel like I’ve been neglecting this blog. Along with my normal, day-to-day stuff, here’s a little bit of what’s been going on:

Tank is lame and I don’t know why. Later today I have an appointment with the farrier to rule out hoof issues. Our current thought is he’s pulled a muscle. If that’s the case, there’s nothing to do but take him for gentle walks and let it heal.

I have an owie.
I’m sketching every day. You can see my sketches on Flickr, but I assure you they’re nothing to make a special trip to see. It’s more about establishing a sketching habit, brushing up and improving my sketching skills and getting over “fear of the blank page.” I’m posting them to keep myself honest. Belle, from Belle, Book and Candle, is sketching with me, and you can see her sketches here. 

I’m helping Laure Ferlita wrap up details for Winter Interrupted: An Artist’s Beach Holiday that will take place Jan. 18-22. (Another good reason to get back in the habit of sketching!) 

Taste testing. It's a tough job, but someone's got to do it.
And, of course, I’m reading—library books mostly, and nothing towards any of my reading challenge goals. Oops.

So what’s new with you?