We are off!

Well, here we are, doing last minute things and packing the carts! Hectic days, and no time for posting... I am happy that life is going to take on theslow rythm of walking from now on!


I will keep a journal of our trip, that I will post in episodes when I get internet connection on the way... until then, think about this...

"... reading has given me the impetus to live and valid ideas as to how I should go about it. Reading has gifted me dreams and the courage to transform them into reality. It has prompted me to ask myself if I really wanted to continue down the path I had chosen. The great strength of literature is that of showing us that reality is not something immutable, established once and for all. Wer can write our own lives along those margins where nothing has been written so far."

Björn Larsson

Spring

The first post accident walk with Kaylee and the cart. I believe Spring is finally among us! The woods are glorious. A pale chartreuse haze suffuses the gaunt trees, and the floor is of the most astonishing sap green, that looks like grass at a distance but is actually an endless carpet of Anemone nemorosa, glittering with hundreds, thousands, countless thousands of pure white flowers. These are as elegant as a spring flower can be, graceful on their long maroon-green stems. The normal form has six petals but the observant eye can easily pick up flowers with five, seven or even eight petals. Clumps of violets and Ranunculus ficaria, the lesser celandine, on its shiny, jewel like leaves, add colour, and the first flowers of cardamine pratensis, the Lady' Smock, a particular favourite of mine, grace the sunnier pastures. This is a small flower, but so neatly drawn that, despite its puny size and demure tint, it looks as beautiful as a carved heraldic picture. Its colour ranges from nearly white to pale lilac, through every shade of mauve, colours that would indeed well befit the Lady Arwen of Rivendell, as I imagined her from the books. The tiny leaves of this herb can also be eaten in salads, their taste fresh and spicy, French mustard, watercress and may be a touch of Granny Smith. Oxalis acetosella is also blooming, as delicate as fine lace, its delicious, refreshing, heart shaped leaves the most fresh lime green, the flowers of a white so thin as to be almost transparent.

Why can't it never go smooth?!

I don't know if I had mentioned that departure was fixed for the 2nd of April, but as a matter of fact, despite the superb weather of the last ten days, here we are, still in our, let's say it, former home, delayed not by TomBoy antics, not by missing equipment but by sheer bad luck. We had moved out every single piece of furniture, every last box, pack, bag and basket, and relocated the whole bunch in Tanja's hayloft when, with the assistance of an unusually froward mattress, I lost my balance on top of a narrow staircase, toppled over and gained the lower floor in one go, shattering my right arm and all our chances to leave on schedule, despite all our efforts in the last two months.

I would be furious if I were not conscious of my luck. I could have broken my neck, or crumbled my hand to bits; as it is I have a spectacular but all in all uncomplicated fracture, and we stand a good chance to leave at the beginning of May. Very good doctors took excellent care of my arm, and I am tolerably selfsufficient. I can lead Kaylee with my left hand quite reliably. And life goes on.

This strange forced pause may not be entirely negative either, albeit bought with great personal discomfort (two chunks of titanium in my forearm, 16 screws and 35 staples, but, luckily, no cast). We are stuck in the house with nothing but our camping equipment, and it is a great chance to test everything out before going, a course of action that seems very appropriate now. We cook on our firebox, hobo stove and dutch oven every day, and we have plenty of time to fidget with the cart loading details.

I am not saying that it was worth breaking two bones for it. But I try to make the best of the situation, and see the bright side of things.

Back on track

Very well, after some of the most stressful weeks I can ever remember, the project is back on track, with some adjustments but no essential changes. TomBoy is still with us, despite the trainer advice to change him for a more experienced horse. While training him in time proved impossible, also with the help of a trainer, he is finally improving both in his general attitude and in accepting the various props of the cart horse business. He is not scared of the cart any more, and he is less spooky and flighty by far in general.
Kaylee proved tha she can draw both our carts alone, but Tom is now helping her, drawing in a curious "double tandem configuration" (horse-horse-cart-cart) that is not elegant, and is about as long as the Eurostar, but that will at least get us (all 6 of us) on the way in the scheduled time. As I said,it ain't pretty,but it is an incredibly practical way to put TomBoy muscles to work without him being yet bodily attached to a cart, and this gives us time and freedom to keep training him without so much pressure.

As for the other preparations they have almost come to their incredibly busy and squalid conclusion: the house is almost emptied of all that made it our home, almost all our furniture and beautiful things have gone into hiding at a friend's place, all our camping bags and packs and tarps and sacks are standing in the ways everywhere waiting fo the big day, that is now really really close, and dust is everywhere,asalways when you move house. A trial packaging some weeks ago proved that we will indeed be able to load all of out travelling home on our two small carts, thanks to all kind of adaptions and a inordinate number of metal hooks.

I keep trying to take pictures of the kitchen box: one of these days I may even manage!

We have a trainer for TomBoy (and us)! Friday afternoon we begin trying to put some sense into our big boy's brain. Let's hope for the best!
In the meantime we did the firtst walk with Kaylee and her cart and she behaved really well, like she nevered did anything else in her life that drawing a swiss infantry cart up and down hills. While some minor points of discipline still need to be refined, and she needs to gain some condition in the next two months, she gives me no real worries and it is very conforting to know that at least one of our Blondies is ready for our project!

A trainer, a trainer, my kingdom for a trainer!

Looking for an expert trainer to take up TomBoy's education... let's hope he is not a desperate case of cronic spookiness, and the fault lies in our approach to the training, and not in him!

Disaster

Our project received the first serious blow yesterday: we have to face the fact that TomBoy is beyond our training ability. While Kaylee got hitched to the cart in a matter of days, without any problem whatsoever, we are not making any real headway with TomBoy. It looked like progress was achieved, but after a remarkably scary accident yesterday we decided to seek professional help. The possibility of getting an easier horse was also considered, but only as an extreme measure. TomBoy has the ability to steal your heart in the sweetest way and the thought of letting him go is unbearable.
But the problem of his explosive spookiness whenever he is faced with any cart related object, is serious, and a solution must be found.

Back online

We have been so busy for the last weeks that it was hard to post anything at all. We are making progress in all our preparations, everything in such little steps however, that it is difficult to record it.

Kaylee has been succesfully hitched to her cart several times: she is very cool about the whole thing, standing patiently while the harness is adjusted and fixed. TomBoy is a lot spookier about this cart business though, and we had to begin from primary school with him, and make very tiny baby steps to accustom him to the whole idea. We are still far from success, which makes me quite fretful (little more than two months being left to the big launch), but I think we are slowly beginning to see the light.

As for the carts they are nearly completely fitted for the trip, and soon pictures will be posted. We also put together most of our equipment. It does look like a scary amount of stuff scattered all over the house in various states of readiness as it is now, and the first trial packaging will be the moment of truth.

A friend offered us space to leave our furniture and things while we are on our way: it means I will not have to sell or otherwise abandon my whole household, a gift for which I will be forever grateful. Thanks, Tanja!!

Soon to come: The Kitchen Box.

Sunny Days

Sun! And walking is a bliss with the cold clear weather of these days. When I am out there in the woods, the steady clip clop of Kaylee's feet by my shoulder and the mane and tail of TomBoy bouncing and swinging like a fountain of spun gold before me, it is really easy to think that there is nothing, nothing better than this, and that Icould walk on and on like that forever, "into the land of sunset".

Romantics apart, walking with the blondies is becoming more and more enjoyable as our relation (and communication) improves and they come to trust us more and more.

We come to know each other better each day, and deal better with our various eccentricities. TomBoy is a strong and eager horse with a superabundance of energy that seems to spill over at the beginning of a walk, sometimes in an explosive way, and he needs a steady hand and a close eye for half an hour or so, lest he takes off bucking in ebullient equine happiness over the fields. Kaylee on the other hand always looks like a martyr at the beginning of each walk until she becomes warmer and looser. Longing may help with both, a skill on wich we are all working.

After a period of being skittish on the path whenever anything happened (a noise in the woods, a family walking down the road, a dog, a woodpile, another horse, a bike a car, a flock of geese overhead... you get the idea) they are now much calmer. I hope it means they trust our judgement more. Yesterday we had a long walk to the cute village of Lutz, met people, cars, horses, dogs, and no reaction at all. I do devoutly hope we do not have to test this new diligent attitude with another "snuffle" of wild boars! A dashy, classy, white arabian stallion begged to be introduced to Kaylee, with very obvious intentions, but she never even looked at him.

"All the Great Teachers have preached that Man, originally, was a 'wanderer in the scorching and barren wilderness of this world' - the words are of Dostoevsky's Great Inquisitor - and that to rediscover his humanity, he must slough off attachments and take to the road."

"One commonly held delusion is that men are the wanderers and women the guardians of hearth and home. This can, of course, be so. But women, above all, are the guardians of continuity: if the hearth moves, they move with it."

"The Bushmen, who walk the distances across the Kalahari, have no idea of the soul's survival in another world. 'When we die, we die' they say. 'The wind blows away our foot prints, and that is the end of us.'

Sluggish and sedentary peoples, such as the Ancient Egyptians - with their concept of an afterlife journey through the Field of Reeds - project on to the next world the journeys they failed to make in this one."

Bruce Chatwin, "The Songlines"

"He was working on a book of his own: It would be a 'manual of poverty'. He hadn't yet decided on a title.
Today, he said, more than ever before, men had to learn to live without things. Things filled men with fear: the more things they had, the more they had to fear. Things had a way of riveting themselves on to the soul and then telling the soul what to do."

Father Terence, in "The Songlines", Bruce Chatwin

The last few weeks have been dedicated almost entirely to the ponies. Their winter quarters needed improving, and were improved (one day they will work for us for a change), they needed to get used to grooming and fussing and they are now much easier to handle and more patient, especially TomBoy.

However, the greatest and most abrupt change in their (and our) behaviour came about a few days ago after I had a compact course about trimming their feet, something of great importance since we cannot depend on always finding a farrier at every turn of our long way, and we purchased boots for their feet, a more fussy solution than shoes, but one that we can safely handle ourselves without costant need of a hoofsmith. I am also convinced that going barefoot, with the additional help of boots, is much better for horses general health.

Trimming their feet as such did not change our collective personality, but spending 5 hours with Gunter, the "barefooter" who came to do the course, trim their feet and offer advice about the choice of boots, did.

There are persons who seeing you in difficulty in whatever field will immediately point out your mistakes and politely suggest you get help to correct them. Gunter is not like that: a natural born teacher, he saw our mistakes in handling the horses and immediately proceeded to analyze the situation, explain in detail what was wrong in our attitude, and show us in a very practical, no nonsense, direct way how to improve it. I did a fair amount of riding at the riding-school back in my old town, but the horses in the riding-schools are so alienated by routine that there is not much to learn about equine communication from them. So, while the relationship with the Blondies has been steadily developing into a very affectionate family life, there was not much progress in our "working partnership". Both me and Eric are polite and rather introvert people who tend to sit back quietly in loud companies. We don't usually try to dominate people, rather striving to just be left alone. This attitude however was evidently confusing to our horses, who, herd animals to the bone, perceived a lack of clearly defined authority: they did not really know where they stood with us, and some of their confusing and sometimes irritating "misbehaviours" were actually their way to test the hierarchy of the herd, something to need to be clear about if they must be able to think about anything else at all. You can read as much as you want in books and articles and web pages about horse communication and natural horsemanship, but seeing a confident, competent person handling your own horse, with his or her personal quirks and eccentricities is a different thing entirely. Gunter came here to trim our horses' feet and in passing taught us more about "talking" to our horses than a huge pile of books, and years of riding four legs automatons at the riding-school ever did. Thank you!!


At the moment we have three pairs of boots, Kailee's hind feet being yet "unbooted". They are three different kinds, each of them chosen to best fit the shape and size of each pair of feet, so we will be able to test quite a number of brands on our way! TomBoy wears Easyboots on his fronts, and Boa Boots on his hinds, and Kaylee, who had foundered in the past wears Old Macs G2 boots.
The first impression about the Easyboots is that the name is one of the cruelest jokes ever played on customers because nothing about theese boots is easy. They have great reviews all over the net, and stunning exploits were and are performed with them, so I must believe they are really good, but, boy, are they a pain in the bum to handle! They are really hard to put on, and hard to pull off, and the clasp in front should be enough to drive any horse owner to tears, being a devil to push shut, and even worse to pull open ( something that cannot be done without the use of a tool, wether a screw driver or a knife). I do hope they become easier in time, or I become smarter, and that their performance justifies the hassle, and I can only thank TomBoy for the patience he is showing with us during our fumbling first attempts at booting his front feet. For the moment, he seems to be walking really well with them, consistently landing his feet heel first. One of the strings is already fraying, but that may be due to our messy first attempts at fitting them on.
Part of the Blondies' increasing willingness to cooperate may be due to the fact that the hard frozen ground these days is hard on newly unshod horse feet, and it must be evident to them that the boots do represent an advantage.

The Old Macs are laborious but not so difficult to fit, having a number of different straps and belts to be closed in turn, so that there is quite a lot to do, but each step is quite easy. They need to be refastened after a few minutes of walking, because as the foot settles in them they become looser. Kaylee is not stumbling and sliding on everything like she used to do now: the sole of these boots has a very deep profile that offers very strong traction. As long as that does not strain her joints it is all for the best in these icy days.

By far the coolest boots, both in looks and practicality, are however the Boa, a very high tec looking boot that would make any stylish sportman out there green with envy. These are very very easy to slip on and even easier to close, like a pair of really well designed running shoes. A dial mechanism turns clockwise to tighten the lacing, and is just pulled outward to release them. The whole procedure is smooth and quick, completely stress free both for TomBoy and me. Carpal tunnel syndrome left my fingers somewhat weak, and these are the only boots that I can fasten by myself without swearing.

This, concerning the fitting of the boots. If the Boas turn out in the long run to be as durable as other boots I cannot see why anyone could want something different, but their reviews are not sky high, so I guess there must be a catch somewhere.

This is the address of Gunter website, and if you are close enough to avail yourself of his service, do so, you cannot be disappointed:
http://www.hufschuhe.com/

Horcrux

Eric says I created my first Horcrux: I sent a box of cuttings from my garden to my british twin, Claire. A sort of ark, so that when leaving I can feel that my garden still has a tenuous link to my life.
Of course it is not true. I mean, it is not my first horcrux. There is already "Sharp Edge", my favourite painting ever. That, I think will stay with my mother. And the Bottles. And the Wizard Staff. I always felt my things where my only true home. I am ready now, to challenge this feeling, and go out in the world with nothing but the essential, and yet, yet Icannot just dump everything. Too much of my soul has gone into some of the things I made. My garden, my paintings, the lost, lost splendour of my house. I need to leave some things behind, to be found again, pehaps, one day.

Back home to my furries, huzzay!!!

The ponies are growing fuzzy around the edges! I five days their winter fur has grown visibly thicker, which is good, since we have snow on the ground now, and temperatures have plummeted dramatically. They do not seem distressed by the cold, but they trail their nose rather disconsolately on the ground, wondering where all the nice grass has gone.

"Walking alone through the big gates I stood in the street and waited for a bus.
I felt lonely. When a man has lived with a horse, eaten with a horse, swum with a horse, slept with a horse, travelled a lone with a horse for months on end - hundreds of miles - the world seems empty without him. I could no longer hear his footsteps by my side."

William Holt "Ride a White Horse"

I am of course less than a beginner in horse travelling, yet this passage rings echoes in my mind. In a few weeks, the ponies have taken residence in my soul, like my cats did, a long time ago.
I must travel for a few days to Italy, and my heart bleeds. Leaving my cats and, now, also my horses, is a hard, hard thing. To a person you can explain why you must go, and that, crossing fingers, pressing thumbs, or whatever it is that you do to ward off evil in your own country, you will soon be back. But furries do not understand this, and the last look they give you while you close the door is always heartbreaking.

More shooting in the woods today. We stayed at home and played Parelli games with the ponies. It is fun, and instructive for both human and horses. We learn so much about each other, and laugh together. A good day.

Yesterday we had a Hunt. Not that we as in "we" went hunting, but a huge number of hunters convened a few undred meters from our house to go into the woods, flush out some of those darned wild boars, and turn some of them into steaks. At first I did not realize what was going on. Many more people passing our back alley than I have ever seen since I moved here, much barking of hounds in the distance, and horns! Hunting horns! That took me by surprise. In Italy, as a rule, boar hunting seems to be a grisly affair, where people go out quietly on their own, and end up shooting mushroom pickers, other hunters' dogs, or other hunters, period. I never heard anything resembling that except perhaps in the parade of the 25th of April. Wether that is a positive demonstration of the local hunters' musical talents, or a negative one of the City Council Band, I could not say.
With such a mess of people, guns, dogs and alarmed boars in the woods, there was no chance of going for a walk with the ponies, so I stayed home and played the Parelli Friendly Game with TomBoy for a while.
Late at night when I brought supper to the ponies a bonfire was roaring on top of the hill, and a promising smell of reoasted meat wafted around. I was heartily happy. It's the first time I see hunters off into the wild with my blessing.

Did I mention that Muffin is overcoming her shyness of horses by the minute!?!

Finally back on line, after Blogger and Google had been inaccessible for days.Why? How? Mysteries.
Our life with the ponies goes on with ups and downs, they seem to have good and bad days like the rest of us. They are now walking barefoot, which means we must put much caution in the choice of trails to train upon, until they get their boots. There is talk of them having bright red boots, easier to spot if they get lost, and certainly they would suit the general clownish attitude of the family. We shall see. They are extremely cooperative on the road: less on a field. The sight of all that green grass seems to stress their reasoning abilities a bit.
We had an interesting trek incident just before their shoes were removed. We had followed this path in the woods for a km or so and then there we met a lot of fallen trees over the path and branches and I was already a bit reluctant to go on with the horses, but they stepped gingerly over each obstacle, not a worry and then, inexplicably we arrived in this spot where the trail just ended. There was a ditch and then a very very steep back some 6-8 m high all covered in fallen leaves. I stood there thinking I would never manage to drag the horses up there, and was it better to just go back over the fallen trees again? There was clearly another, open path on top of the bank, but I did not trust myself to bring TomBoy up. I was there, fidgeting with the lead rope and undecided about how to preceed when TomBoy gave me this look like "Well? Are we going to stay here all day?" and he just stepped away and went up the bank, like you or I would go up the cellar stairs . Half way up he was at the end of the lead rope and he turned back to look at me in a "Coming up or what?" sort of way. I let go of the rope so he could best find his own way, and in a couple of seconds he was on top, looking down and waiting for me. I had to go up on all four and slid down more then I made headway lol. Kaylee came up slower because the hubby could not make it on his own and she half dragged him up. I was so completely stunned by this exploit that I could hardly speak, I just kept saying "Did you see him? Did you see him?" They are more like big goats in long blonde hair. Of course these horses were and are bred on the high pastures in the Alps, but heck, I was in awe. TomBoy is a dutch horse, I don't suppose he has seen many mountains in his youth, and yet he does really very well on steep paths and uneven footing.

The first cart, with the kitchen box is ready, except for the painting of the box itself and its smaller fittings. Still one cart to go, sigh.

Yesterday we cooked a truly delicious chicken dish on the Liard Firebox and Dutch Oven. They make a fine duo, because you need the box to start the coals or wood embers for the oven, and in the meanwhile you can cook on the box on the live flame.
Very well, you need 2 to 4 half chicken breasts, skinless and boneless, 2 cups of basmati rice, some small tomatoes and lots of spices. The amount of spices looks threatening, but trust the recipe and just proceed:

8 (2-inch-long)fresh chiles, red and green finely chopped
2 tablespoons coriander seeds
1 tablespoon cumin seeds
half a head of fresh garlic, squeezed or finely chopped
1 tablespoon black peppercorns
2 teaspoons sea salt
half a cup of good olive oil

Roughly grind the seeds in a mortar (or a grinder, if you are at home), then mix with the garlic and chiles, and cover with oil. Cover the chicken thickly with the spice mix, making sure that all of the surface is coated with oil. Reserve a table spoon of the mix. Start a lively fire in the box, and put a pot with four cups of water to boil. Skewer the tomatoes on barbecue sticks and start grilling them. Keep feeding the fire, as soon as you have embers for the Dutch oven, remove the tomatoes from the grill, and sear the chicken breasts quickly over the fire. Then put them in the dutch oven, with a moderate amount of embers on bottom and some more on the top.
Return the tomatoes to finish grilling and cook the rice as needed. As soon as the chicken is tender remove the dutch oven from fire and just keep warm until everything is done. Mix the reserved spice mix in the rice, and sprinle the tomatoes with olive oil and sea salt.
Another recipe adapted from Epicurious.