In  this month's newsletter we discuss tired dogs, almost-horses, fire photos, summer, and the health risks of competitive clogging:

https://mailchi.mp/956dcca14183/summer-and-new-projects-loom?e=2b1e842057

Did I mention summer? I'd be so much happier with its arrival if it actually stuck around for more than a few days. Heck, I'm still waiting for Spring to arrive--apparently I blinked.

Still, any season with flowers is better than a season without them. 

This one has somehow survived all my lawn care efforts for decades. I don't know how.

 

 

 

Only four days left to help the Pokagon Saddle Barn pay their expenses in this year of coronavirus ... but, of course, it's always a good time to buy a t-shirt.

https://www.customink.com/fundraising/pokagon-saddle-barn

 Due to the Covid-19 epidemic, the Saddle Barn is opening late this year--the mandated target is May 24th, and then they can only run at half capacity for an unknown period of time. As I explained in a previous blog, while it's inside Pokagon State Park, the Saddle Barn itself is an independent small business that could really use your support: 

https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/2020/05/support-your-local-saddle-barn.html 

"Dinner Time!"

 

The horses are around whether they're being ridden or not--and ask any horse person how much that costs! So buy yourself a t-shirt and support a good cause. 

My grandmother loves the horses--and they love her.

  

Hey! I don't think he's feeling well: He's a little horse.

 

Like many small businesses in the time of Covid-19, things are a little tough for the Pokagon State Park Saddle Barn this year. (Yes, it’s inside a state park, but the Saddle Barn itself is a private business.) At this point they do plan to open sometime close to Memorial Day weekend (I’ll get back to you on the exact day), but they’ll only be able to work at half capacity and will have comply with Indiana's Covid-19 guidelines. Ordinarily they open for weekends in March, then go seven days a week starting Memorial Day.
 
 
"Let's ride!"
 
So here’s an idea to support a local business—you can buy your own Pokagon Saddle Barn t-shirt:
 
 
 
Emily leads a trail ride.
 
I know it’s cool, and you can buy your own, or at least donate to the cause. Like many businesses of the equestrian variety (it's a real word, I looked it up), the people who work at the Saddle Barn love horses. I should know: My wife is one of them. But the horses don't just go into suspended animation between seasons. They’re living beings who need food, veterinary care, medicine, pasture space, and of course insurance—all year round. That's the short list.
 
 
Emily loves her job, even on cold days. Although the cold isn't great.
 
This year they need a little extra support.

The funds raised will go to Deena Coleman, the business owner, so she can keep all the horses and be ready for when things get a bit more back to normal. She's been running the barn for over 30 years, and hasn't raised prices in at least 10. So please, get yourself a shirt! That’s what friends are for.
 
 
 
Our dog Beowulf, wondering how that other dog got so big.
 


Yes, they do love their job, even first thing in the morning.
Thanks to everyone who read, and especially commented on, my post on the 50 Authors From 50 States blog! As for the giveaway, I didn't have a hat, so I made each commenter a slip of paper and mixed them up in ... an extra large coffee cup.

A coworker, who was very happy there was no actual coffee in the cup, then pulled out the name of William Kendall, who wins a free book! And no, that's not as cool as a free car, but I don't sell cars.

As for those who read the blog, Annette Snyder sent me a list that shows 176 visitors from the USA. But here's a surprise: The next highest number of visitors were from Ireland! No, I don't know why. After that came France and Germany, then "Unknown Region", which I think is one of the former Soviet republics. On a related note, there were also visitors from Russia, as well as the Ukraine, United Kingdom, and--as might be expected--Canada.



Otherwise there's not much to report. Emily is busy scanning and adjusting photos for our Albion Fire Department photo book project, while I've been working on the rough draft of a humor collection, under the working title of Still Slightly Off the Mark. It will be based on humor columns I wrote for the newspaper between 2000 and 2002, and rereading them for revision has made me realize just how much has changed since then.

Spring is springing--more or less--and we got a chance last week to go to the drive-in theater that was the inspiration for Coming Attractions. Shazam, was it fun!



On a related note, Emily is back with her horses at the Pokagon State Park Saddle Barn, although until Memorial Day they're only open on weekends.

All signs of spring ... yay! Hope you all get a chance to get outside and enjoy it, when weather permits. And, for those of you in the upper Midwest and Plains States ... I'm so sorry.

If you can see this video ... well, I'll be very surprised, because my video uploading skills are suspect, to say the least.

 

"Would you like to go on a trail ride?" my wife asked in August.

(Yeah, I know. It's taken me this long to recover from the emotional trauma enough to write about it.)

Do you remember those people on the tourist boat in Hawaii, who got hit by lava when the volcano exploded? It was like that. "Would you like to go on a boat ride? The view is great!" Oh, I'm sure they got an impressive view, indeed, especially during the medivac helicopter ride to the hospital.

 

This is Cheyenne. Cheyenne is ... shy. She tends to keep her head down in a good Eeyore impression.

 

 My wife, Emily, works at the Pokagon State Park saddle barn which, as you might imagine, is at Pokagon State Park, in northeast Indiana. It's one of those "they don't have to pay you as much because you love your job" kind of things, like being a radio DJ, or writing. One of her fringe benefits is that, if the hourly ride isn't sold out and there's a horse available, she can bring her husband along on a ride.

At no point while writing that policy did anyone consider whether the husband wanted to go.

I've been on about half a dozen trail rides now, so I'm better at it than when I began. The first time, my horse saw some nice grass off in the woods and wandered off, and they found me three days later, still unconscious from the tree limb. Okay, I exaggerate--slightly. The truth is, those horses wouldn't stray far from their routine trail even if you let them go.

But I hadn't been on a ride since early last year and ... how can I say this and still maintain my self-respect? Okay, there's no way: I'm out of shape. I haven't been trail hiking as much as usual due to writing chores, and the muscle stretches the chiropractor gave me to do only work, it turns out, if you actually do them.

That's Emily all the way up in front, in the hat. If she looks particularly alert right there, it's because we'd just seen a coyote standing in the trail ahead of us.

 

But that's no problem, because all you have to do is ride, right? You horse people, you're laughing right now. Well, first you have to get on the horse, which involves putting your foot into a stirrup, which is fine except the stirrup is at the level of your chest. I haven't been able to lift my foot to chest level since I was eighteen. Hah! Kidding--I couldn't then, either.

Then you have to swing your other foot over the horse which, I think, is when something happened. I didn't notice it at the time, because I was busy noticing how very high up above the ground I was. The words "head" and "melon" were intertwining in my mind right then.

On the first leg of our 45 minute trip, a coyote casually walked out onto the trail, right in front of us. He looked over our way, and I expected him to say, "Have you seen a road runner go by lately?" But what he actually said was, "If Mark Hunter falls off the horse, can I have him? I spent all my food money on an Acme brand anvil."

Well, that's the predator vibe I was getting from him, anyway.

The thing is, riding a horse involves an entirely different set of muscles compared to my favorite exercise, which is hiking, which is way closer to the ground. (Usually.) And no, you don't just sit: You have to kind of ... hug the horse with your legs, and keep a good posture, which I haven't done since ... well, ever. It makes you appreciate how fit porn actors must be.

It really was a nice ride, and beautiful scenery, except for when the horse ahead of me had to relieve himself.

 

I expected to be sore the next day. But as I climbed down after a scenic and uneventful ride, something felt ... off.

I'd pulled a horse riding muscle.

I didn't even know there was a thing. It's very low on your back, on each side, or maybe very high on your hip, or--let's face it, it's a butt muscle. I suspect it happened when I climbed on board, but at the time I was too terrified to notice. Yeah, I've done this six times now, but I've also seen all those YouTube videos entitled "Riding Gone Wrong".

Also, I once personally saw someone fall of a horse. They didn't get up fast.

But there was an upside. I'd been reading the second novel in George R.R. Martin's Game of Throne series, and those books are thicker than the Federal budget. Once the pain killers kicked in and I was settled on the couch, I got in some great reading time.

Maybe I'll even ride a horse again. Next year.

The saddle barn up at Pokagon State Park is still open on weekends after Labor Day, usually until the weekend of Halloween (depending on the weather). But for some reason a lot of people don't know that, and since it's where my wife works:

The Pokagon Saddle Barn is still open on weekends after Labor Day. There. The first trail ride leaves at 10 a.m., and the last at 5 p.m. When you consider they start setting up an hour early, and have to put everything away after the last ride returns, that makes for a long day.

Earlier this summer I had the opportunity to take a few photos while everyone was opening up the barn for the morning. Not to worry: I was on the not-getting-stomped-on side of the fence:

 

When the gate is opened in the morning, some of the horses come running.

 

Some of them kind of just ... hang out.

 

In fact, if you look at this photo carefully you can see Emily way off toward the back of the pasture, where she had to go chase a few of the horses down to the gate.

 

And here Emily has caught up with one. Don't let the size difference fool you: The horse knows who's really in charge.

 

 

Emily's boss was also there that morning, wrestling the horses into submission. And no, I'm not exaggerating.

 

While walking back to the Spring Shelter at Pokagon State Park, I encountered my wife with a fella named Fred. Good thing too, because I would have made a wrong turn if she hadn't pointed the way, and the right way was still a half mile hike. Fred is the saddle barn's only mule:




That photo posted on Instagram at the time, but for some reason Blogger has never updated its app, and it usually crashes when I try to post from my phone (although a previous post I thought didn't go actually posted twice).

I'd planned to work out of the car while she was on the job (I'm revising Beowulf: In Harm's Way). But it was a beautiful day, so I decided to walk the to the Spring Shelter even though I'd already hiked almost four miles earlier in the day. It's in a wooded area along the saddle trail and usually quiet, except for the people who go there with empty containers, for the spring water. They've quite literally piped it right out of the ground.



Since I was carrying a leather case with my laptop, iPad, and my ancient iPod, I checked the weather forecast first: No rain predicted. Then I looked at the weather radar: No rain in the region. So I got there, laid my stuff out, and was engrossed in revisions about an hour later when big drops started falling on the keyboard

Just a brief shower to remind me I'm not in charge. And, after all, the Spring Shelter includes ... wait for it ... a shelter. At least I could see the clouds that were the source of my torment; and when I checked the radar, sure enough, there were the showers popping up. Not like last week, where it started raining on my while I mowed the lawn -- despite the fact that there wasn't a single cloud overhead.



Just goes to show, there's no such thing as a perfect writing spot.
.

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