Friend

After losing her previous pregnancy thanks to an EEV outbreak somewhere around the 90-100 day mark, Rene had a visit with Dakota---Wynnie's dad---again last year. She was confirmed in foal and rechecked multiple times, but we never quite got an exact cover date. Dakota is a total gentleman and the two of them were allowed to live in the field together for several months, and for some reason Rene is a super discreet mare and we never actually saw her come into heat.

Nonetheless, as we reached mid-January, it became obvious that we didn't have much longer to wait. With alarming suddenness, Rene developed an udder and a low-slung belly. I moved her in at night and started a maddening series of late-night and early-morning checks during which nothing whatsoever appeared to change. Her milk didn't quite come in, remaining mostly transparent. The foal never kicked. I watched her like a hawk and yet she seemed to be making no progress beyond simply feeling very huge and pregnant.

One morning as we breakfasted on the stoop in front of our cottage, my husband gazed across the horse fields and announced, "Rene's going to have her baby this week."

I scoffed. How would my non-horsy husband know from a distance of fifty metres when the mare was going to foal down when I, the horsewoman, had been hovering over her for days?

"Look at her," he said. "It's obvious."

Three days later, I peered in at late night check to see Rene eating hay peacefully. Still no real milk and certainly no wax.

"Nah," I told hubby. "We've got a few days."

The next morning there was a fluffy little brown creature waiting in the straw.

In my tremendous excitement, I forgot everything that I had learned in a lifetime of farming and decided that the foal was a colt. It was also dry, strong, and able to stand on its own, but it was sucking everything: me, the mare, the straw. Correction, it was sucking everything except for the actual teats. Worried that the foal was already a couple of hours old and hadn't gotten any colostrum, I tried to help it drink, but it just wasn't getting the hang of it enough to ingest a meaningful volume.

I texted the vet, who agreed with me that there was nothing wrong with it except, and I quote, "it's clumsy stupid". So I milked Rene. To her endless credit, she stood munching on her breakfast while I milked her like a dairy cow. The hungry foal blundered all around the stable, sucking the walls, sucking my hair, sucking every part of its mother except the relevant bits.

Once I had a nice, frothing litre of colostrum, I tipped it into one of the sterile bottles we use for the calves, topped it with a rubber teat and prepared myself for a fight. Calves usually take a second to learn how to drink from a bottle and cover you with colostrum in the process. As I was figuring out how to get this done, I realised that the foal was, in fact, a filly. My bad. She was solid bay with only a white coronet on her right hind.

I wrapped an arm around the filly's neck, with DH watching in adoration (of the filly, I might add), and put the tip of the rubber teat in her mouth. And she slurped up the bottle all in one go.

With that, the filly had thoroughly imprinted on me, but she was still more than happy to search her mother for more milk. I let them be now that I was certain she'd had that essential first colostrum, and within an hour or two, she'd figured out how to suck
le all on her own.

After much intense debate, DH and I finally agreed on a name: Morning Star Raya. Not only do we both love Raya and the Last Dragon, but it's also a Hebrew name meaning "friend". And if that's not already an excellent description for this precious little filly who loves everyone, I don't know what is.

Despite her inauspicious start, Raya is one of the strongest foals we've had. She was born with lovely straight legs and has had no drama at all. At a week old, with her toothies barely making an appearance, she's already eating and drinking water on her own, lets me lift all four her teensy feets, and walks to the field and back with a soft rope around her neck like a big girl.

She adores the riding school kiddos and, especially, me. Although she hasn't had any difficulty suckling from Rene ever since, she still likes to suck my arms. We spend a lot of time allogrooming. Is it adorable? Yes. It is the most adorable thing in the universe.

I only realized now, and perhaps I never actually connected the dots, but Rene is also the dam of my first purebred Nooitgedachter, a beautiful grey filly named Arop Amelia who died from tetanus ten days after I brought her home in 2016. I called her Rainbow and she took a chunk of my heart with her. Raya feels a little like getting a piece of Rainbow back.

RIP sweet Rainybow

Rene is doing fabulously well for an older girl who's about to turn eighteen. Obviously I'm feeding the living daylights out of her, but she's holding her weight and clearly enjoying being a mommy mare again. She's so experienced and relaxed that she makes everything seem easy.

We'll retain Raya for now and, Lord willing, produce her and see what she would like to be. With her temperament and breeding, she'd be useful as a schoolie or a kids' horse. If she inherited her daddy's engine, she might make an appearance in the dressage ring someday, too. For now, she's just our precious baby Raya, bringing smiles everywhere she goes.

God is very good.

Is That Another Train?

 The riding school where I had my first lessons from Auntie M as a tiny kid is down the road from us, and my first coach's stepdaughter happens to be one of DH's best friends. Growing up in a small town will do that to you. Friend C---who handled Arwen and got kicked by Wynnie at HOY 2022---works overseas for much of the year, so we've seldom actually ridden together, but on Friday we changed that.

I asked the ever-lovely M to give Lancey a bath for the occasion, at which request M scrubbed Lancey to within an inch of his life, so it was a snow white and show ready Arab who we loaded up on Friday afternoon. He got out at the riding school where I had my very first gymkhana on Skye about fifteen years ago, tail high and neck arched, snorting so that C thought he was a Wild Stallion. I assured her that he is all bark and no bite as I threw on his tack, and we left DH to hang out with C's fiance while we went riding.

C was on Salsa, a daughter of Auntie M's treasured old mare, and we rode past a field full of horses I'd known as a little kid - Polka, Stefanie, Bolero, Isak, Dirk, Mazurka and even the pony on whom I was an up-downer, Mystique. It was lovely to see them all grazing in a big green field, looking wonderful and happy in the home they've known for decades.

C and I haven't ridden together much, but we instantly settled into a merry rhythm of walking and trotting through the summery fields. Salsa couldn't decide if she was going to be a bit nappy or a bit excited, but Lancey seemed to hit his happy, I-can-do-this-all-day stride immediately without his usual few minutes of stop-and-snort first.

We rode across a small vlei and then along the edges of the fields, which were deep with the rich green of soyabeans. Salsa charged into them with a great rustling at one point; Lancey spooked at that, then spooked again at a mealie leaf. Both were spooks-in-place - I didn't bother to pick up the reins.

wow I really need to cut his bridle path

As we wound our way along the fields, I remembered the train tracks running through the middle of the farm from pony camp years ago when Skye was pregnant with Thunder and didn't bat an eye at the speeding train. Then again, Skye didn't bat an eye at anything.

"Do you think there'll be a train?" I asked.

We moved on between two soya fields and C asked if I was up for a canter. As usual I asked to go in front and squeezed him forward, and Lanceycorn responded by Bronco Leaping, ie porpoising that doesn't panic even me. I pulled his head up and booted him and he cantered off like a good boy, albeit a very happy and excited good boy, who settled into a far more acceptable canter by the end of the field and happily dropped to a walk on a loose rein when asked.

Five minutes later, there was indeed a train when we were quite close to the tracks. It clunked past quite slowly, and despite the fact that I was definitely worried, Lancey barely looked at it. He grabbed a few bites of grass and we continued along, unphased by the tractors and trailers that were heading along the fields, "following" us (did I mention those?).

We had another lovely long trot along the edge of the field, Lancey absolutely powering along despite his lack of fitness, hitting that extra gear that he only ever finds out on a long ride. This dude was born for endurance and he knows it.

I declined to try to get Lancey through an underpass that had water in it, so we headed for a bridge over the train tracks instead. This was our mutual first bridge, and bridges give me the heebie jeebies even in a car, but Lancey clopped over without batting an eye. We walked along the vlei on loose reins, enjoying the sunshine and excellent company, when I realized sharply that the tractors were no longer behind us despite the clanky sound I heard.

"Is that another train?" I enquired.

It was, and it was loud, fast, behind the trees, and had something wrong with it that made it squeal appallingly. Lancey took a couple of walk steps backward and sideways, but he didn't offer to turn around. We stood and watched it zoom past and then continued on our merry way at a happy walk, even wading through belly-deep vlei grass, normally a thing Lancey does not enjoy. He snacked happily and I let him.

We had one more nice stretch along the fields before we got back, and we took advantage of it. This time, Lancey stepped up into canter without a peep of protest, and I urged him on to the point where C could actually canter too (my little dressage-queeny collected canter on outrides is decidedly unpopular). It felt good to let him out a little, and we were all grinning by the time we reached the end of the field and he went back to an obedient, quiet walk.

The last stretch involved following a busy main road, and while we were across the fence from the road, the traffic still swished by much closer than Lancey's used to. He didn't care, though. Even when I made the mistake of waving to a trucker, who cheerfully hooted in reply, Lancey didn't even flick an ear.

Relaxed and happy, we got back, unsaddled and left Lancey in a field with Mystique and Polka, two ancient mares unlikely to beat him up even if he annoyed them. To my relief, Lancey didn't try to play with them. He happily grazed while we visited with C and her fiance N, and even though it was totally dark by the time we left, he walked straight into the box with no hesitation.

We did 6km in an hour in the end, which for this ploddy dressage queen and given that Lancey is by no means fully fit again, was more than enough for a lovely Friday ride.

My little white unicorn amazes me everywhere we go.

God is good.

husband feat. C's amazing dogs

Renewed Awe

Being home again has brought with it a renewed awe of the glory with which we find ourselves surrounded every day. The Lord ensured that we were always provided with somewhere affordable and beautiful to stay during our unexpected six-week sojourn in Ballito, and it was wonderful to have a comfortable seaside flat to stay in during those tenuous first weeks after DH was discharged.

Yet we're both grateful to be back in our little house on the Highveld, surrounded by the pets and people we love.

DH has been doing phenomenally well. Recovering from two open laparotomies is not a quick or easy process, but my superhero is a little better every day.

As for the horsies, they mostly had a break while we were away. K rode them a couple of times, but they didn't exactly stay fit, so I got started toward the end of December with slowly increasing their fitness.

Thunerbirdy was going SUPER WELL. It always takes him a while to rebuild his fitness, but he was giving me his best work yet. We even played with the two-tempis (J showed me his ones, boggling my brain, in October) and everything felt amazing. Of course, after the first proper rain of January, he slipped in the field and pulled a tendon, because horses gonna horse.

The vet came out and took some X-rays that showed no major damage (and beautiful joints and foot angles, I might add - hallelujah) so we're doing the ice, cold poultice and paddock rest thing. He's sound to all appearances but the flexor tendons are still a little thickened at times. 

Despite the fact that she is ridiculously overweight and 17 years old now, the return to work has been going much better for Arwen. She and I have unfinished business with the higher grades this year, Lord willing, so we've been working to regain all of her strength and suppleness while polishing up the movements that she already knows well - single changes, half passes and the like.

I'm honestly astounded with how rideable she became last year. We didn't actually compete in dressage, but we put in a ton of hours in training and lessons, and they're paying off.

Our show season starts this weekend and I'm really excited for it. We've even been going on a bunch of outrides together, with a minimum of dragoning, and it feels like our 16-year relationship is the best it's ever been at the moment. I'm enjoying her more than I can express right now.

As for my Lancey, he's loving life as a pet with a few fun, relaxed rides each week. We had a ride with plenty of spice involved last week, when I thought a nice solo hack was a great idea while he was very fresh and a swarm of horse flies descended upon it, but all he did was jog a little bit - nothing naughty.

Since then we had a much nicer, very relaxed ride with A, who owns Mawarda and is becoming a staple of the little riding friends group that has developed on the yard, to my eternal delight.

K did an admirable job of keeping the yard together while I was gone, and we returned to lessons in full force this month, with a few changes to the lineup. Spirit went to her owners' farm to retire and her kiddos both moved onto big horses - Jamaica and Faith. Despite my initial misgivings, Faith has been fantastic with her very small kiddo so far.

Flash, Sahara, Stardust and Midas make for a wonderfully varied and useful school pony lineup and each have a couple of lessons a week, so they're earning their keep at least.

Thanks to E2, we also arranged a really nice junior horse for BarnRat. She has put in so much work and dedication and she absolutely deserves every minute of pleasure and performance that this gorgeous new mare is going to give her. It's a lovely, quality OTTB mare by Futura out of a Western Winter mare, officially named Wedding Bliss. I call her Wedding but kiddo insists her name is Blossom, so whatever, kiddo.

God is good!

Fourth Man in the Fire

“But the great thing to remember is that, though our feelings come and go, His love for us does not. It is not wearied by our sins, or our indifference; and, therefore, it is quite relentless in its determination that we shall be cured of those sins, at whatever cost to us, at whatever cost to Him." --- C. S. Lewis

God's love pursues. There's nowhere it will not go.

I can never escape from your Spirit!
    I can never get away from your presence!
8 If I go up to heaven, you are there;
    if I go down to the grave,[a] you are there.
9 If I ride the wings of the morning,
    if I dwell by the farthest oceans,
10 even there your hand will guide me,
    and your strength will support me.
11 I could ask the darkness to hide me
    and the light around me to become night—
12     but even in darkness I cannot hide from you.
To you the night shines as bright as day.
    Darkness and light are the same to you. Ps 139:7-12

His love followed us from hospital to hospital at the end of 2023 as my beautiful husband went from fighting fit one day to doubled over with abdo pain the next. It pursued us as he was grievously misdiagnosed and as we went off to the coast on holiday thinking it was just what DH needed to recover from an "upper GI infection".

It followed us into a radiology department in a town I'd never seen before, and from there it followed him all the way into emergency surgery to remove a ruptured appendix.

God's love cradled me as I sat waiting, curled on a hospital couch in the middle of the night, absolutely alone. It bore my critically ill husband through a four-hour surgery as his septic abdomen was washed out and chunks of necrotic bowel were removed.

The Lord's love upheld us both through a two-week ICU stay, a second surgery, and the long, rough road of recovery. The Lord's love cast us to our knees, showed us the extent of our helplessness, and greater yet, drew back the curtain on the unending ocean of His mercy. He brought us to the edge of our worst fears so that we could see how very small they are compared to His majesty.

Our God towered over us, the Lion of Judah. He stripped away everything, all of our hope, except for Him, and He was enough.

I had not expected to spend our first wedding anniversary on our knees as my husband fought for his life, but He was there. Fearless and completely in command. God is good.

It is easy to say that now, now that we're home after six long weeks away from our farm, now that my husband is strong again and filled with life, now that we can praise Him for a miracle. Yet, in the valley of the shadow of death, it was still easy to say, easy to see. He was with us in every part of our fiery trial. The fourth Man in the fire.

And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,[p] neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:38-39

We will never be the same after what happened to us. But we are not meant to be the same. Hardship is meant to do exactly what this great trial did: to make us better, more trusting, more hopeful, less stressed, more eternity-focused, more oriented toward the eternal things of the Kingdom of God, because at the end of the day, they are all we have.

I praise the Lord for healing my husband. I praise Him every time I get to wake up side by side with the man I love more than life. Above all, I praise God for being God.

He is so, so good.