FaaaHHHREEEZinggg.

It's gonna be like that, huh?

Mutch and his BFF

This dog keeps coming to my door at random times barking and whining incessantly until I let Mutch out. I think he has taken my dog as his best friend. It's really a cute thing and it cracks me up when I hear his whining coming from outside. He stopped by this afternoon for some playtime. He has a collar on one out of every three times he comes over.


Young dogs LOVE Mutch. It's really an odd thing because my dog is grouchy and crabby when others want to play. He will chase them off until he gets so fed up and only then will he start running around and playing. At the dog park he just wants to hang out with the girl of his choice and be chill and he gets pestered by all the lab puppies. Very entertaining.

Here are a few shots around the new barn.

Part of Belda's menagerie of dogs is Ali the Afghan. He's sneaky. As soon as you turn to walk off he sneaks up and gooses you.


the back of the barn.


Faluke heading out to play. He's a 25 year old TB, a sweet sweet guy.


I have Dusty in the small turnout. I love the wooden fences.


The riding arena.

Look at Dusty, he was yawning. His eyes are bright again. He is defiantly happier here. I'm thinking that the herbs and chiropratic worked out for him also. I took these photos today.




a simular photo from about this time last year.

Diner- Pensacola Fl. (a review) in my opinion

**This post is edited. Any factual place or experience existing here in Pensacola Florida that would happen to be a diner is strictly coincidence. Any and all statement here are a mere replay of the food fantasies and delusions that I am haunted by in my sleep.**

My only credentials to be able to execute a review on a restaurant are that I pretty much have spent a good majority of my life working in a restaurant, or behind a bar. I KNOW how this is supposed to work. I am certain that I could walk into a restaurant and have confidence being in charge. It's a passive aggressive dance with hungry customers and the staff just wants to know they're doing a good job.

In my opinion the first thing needed to make a restaurant work: servers that know how to wait on a table.

Name: Vesille Diner

Location: Cervantes St. by the interstate and across from that tire place that has a "10" in it.

Years in making: about 12

The recently opened diner is located in that building on Cervantes St. that all Pensacolians have been staring at for the last seven years. I noticed it was open when I was driving around at 9:30pm looking for someone to still be serving food in the land of "all ye good christians go to bed by 9:30pm". The sign said "open 24 hours" so I went in.

I entered alone so I sat at the bar to fill my aching stomach. The set up is very similar to the WH (that's Waffle House). Open grill where you can see all the boogers the cook is rubbing on your meatloaf, and if anyone wears plastic gloves to handle the food. I cannot handle the server having their hands all over my food. Piling lettuce in a bowl for my salad with bare hands? YUK. Fingers all over the rim of my glass? YUK.

As soon as the servers got it straight who was supposed to wait on me I was handed a paper menu with three pages of food on it. One was breakfast. I didn't want that. I'm HUNGRY. I took a look around the room. The place is clean. The aesthetics are very nice. Atmosphere is quaint and not so much Mel's Diner as it resembles Starbucks. Things were unsystematic to say the least. The friendly server came over to me and asked me what I would like to drink. I asked for a Coke. She informed me that it was Pepsi. I didn't want that. When in doubt about a beverage past the Manson-Nixon line? - Sweet Tea.

She came back with my drink promptly and asked if I would like to order.

"what's good here? I've never been here before."

She smiled as she griped her pen getting ready to write on the small tablet "Uhm, well? I don't know. It's my first day here. I just started working here a few hours ago. I had the shrimps it was really yummy."

OOOOOWWWWH SHIT.

I'm HUnnnNnnnGRY. Here she stands without anyone even following her to help. Help would insure me of the fact that I will get food soon, and correctly. And she tells me that she had the shrimps?? whAt? when you were filling out your application?? "owh well." I thought to myself. "maybe she's so good that she doesn't need any help."

I just can't bare to order shrimps that were frozen from any restaurant around here. I ended up getting the meatloaf which I was perfectly in the mood for. I ordered a side salad also. My drink had been sitting there empty and I watched the waitress scurry around waiting on the other tables. It looked as if NOBODY had any idea what the hell was going on. Food was coming up in the "window" and it sat there for at least five to seven minutes while the correct server was located to deliver the order. Second thing to make a restaurant work: Food getting to the customers before it is cold.

A few large tables came in and the cooks got nervous. I still hadn't got my drink refilled and it looked like my food was getting ready to come off the grill. Dang. I wanted that salad. I watched my waitress walk away after she took my order. She did not go retrieve my salad. She disappeared into the back. I didn't want that.

The cook slid my plate into the "window" which was on the counter about a foot away from me and I slid it over closer. The meatloaf was so hot that I couldn't even touch it. I poked at the mashed potatoes and took a small bite. Cold.

My stomach begins to grumble at me.

When my server came out from the back the cook noticed that I never got my salad and pulled the server over to let her know as I watched. She headed over to her purse, took out some germ killing gel and squirted it into her hands.

"owh. my. god. she is not." I thought. She is. Over to the salad cooler she went, pulled out the giant bag of lettuce and stuck her hand right inside. "wha.wahhhhhhhhh." I whined to myself. I could just imagine my long awaited salad tasting like germ killer. Let me let you in on a little secret. IT'S A MARKETING PLOY PEOPLE. She put the salad in front of me without any salad dressing.

I just sat there and ate the food. Whatever up to this point, but at least I have food. As I sat there texting my friend on what a CF this place is I then noticed a server making something that looked rather interesting. It was something with ice cream and toppings, and YUM. I caught her eye and said "that looked really good! would you please make me one?". I need to learn when to keep my mouth shut. The result was so incredible that I had to sketch it out right at that moment.

Factual representation. wahh.wahhhhh.

I looked at my receipt and it said "toppings..........$.89" huh? I asked about it. I got charged eighty nine cents for the chocolate that the girl put on my brownie! I think my face was stuck in one of those "if you don't stop it will freeze like that" poses.

I glanced over to see where she took the xanadu of all ice cream sundaes. A table of four cute boys.

End of story.

I've been there twice and it pretty much went like this both times. So if you go, you most likely will want to like it but leave agitated and wondering what the hell just happened and on the verge of grabbing the manager's tag and having dialogue.

Idora Park's "Wild Cat"
A friend of mine posted this pic on his blog and wrote an excellent entry about the infamous Wild Cat at Idora Park.

Idora park was a little amusement park in my city that started off as a dance hall in the big band era. It was a main stop on the tour of some of the biggest in Jazz back then. My grandmother used to tell me about going dancing there and later my mom told me of "soc hops" that took place in the amazing grand ballroom. Every horse on the carousel was hand painted.

The park changed a lot over the the years, sadly for the worst. The end came too soon when this ride caught fire in 1984 (? I think). It was a day that all locals remember where they were. I was watching billowing smoke from just a mile away out of the window of my third grade class. A few years of shabby operation and it finally went to auction. All the vintage items were sold. I have always wished I had gotten some signage.

I remember the annual party called the "Spring Thing", it must have been a reall groovy time because I was never allowed to go. It was "for adults".

I can just imagine what it must have been like being 18-20 years old in the early seventies and living in my hometown with Idora Park open and thriving. It was a really happenin' place, maAan. There were a lot of long-hairs hanging out...

Dusty does airs.

Dusty has been feeling so much better lately. He has gotten his spunk back. I'm sure that a lot of it is due to the sweet feed he is on now. He's not getting enough to make him insane (and plus, he's out of work) but just enough to make him a little more lively. He's like he was when I first got him.

His injury is healing more rapidly. He is so happy to be with and around other horses. Although he is alone now when he's turned out from what I've seen over the fence he will fit into the herd well. He's no tough guy, but he likes to play.

I picked up a bright orange ball at the store and took it to him the next day. I showed it to him and he came over to check it out. Then he decided that he hated it and turned around, walked outside and stood with his butt to me. So I started bouncing it in the aisle and the other horses got interested. He appeared at his stall door jealous and then decided he liked the ball. I threw it into his paddock.

As I was cleaning his stall I sent him outside and a minute later I heard knocking sounds coming from outside. I went to look...
My horse was kicking this ball. He was tossing his head around and shuttling the ball around with his nose. When he got it in the air he was so proud of himself that he would jump straight UP off the ground with all four feet. When it rolled under his belly he would rear and trot off a few steps...

I was worried about his injury, but he was wrapped and I just couldn't stop this. I stood there and watched my horse play with this ball like I'd NEVER seen a horse play with a ball ever before. I got rather teary. It it such a relief to see DustyMan have a personality again. He knickers at me often. He is happy here. phew. So am I.

He's smart about himself, but he is inquisitive and playful.

Ring, ring...ring, ring...
"Hello, um? is this Belda?" (I substituted the name)
"Yes, this is Belda." a polite French woman said on the other end of the phone.
"Hello, My name is Christine and I was referred to you by Blankity Blank and Blankity Blank. I hear that you take very fabulous care of your horses and I am looking to move my pony to a barn like that." I said.

"Ohhh..I dunno about zat. I don't want any boarders. I dont even like the ones I have now, I wish they would all leave..." Her lovely aged voice sounded irritated. She continued..."have you gone to check with SheeeeeARhd (some other French sounding sound)? he is out on Blankitson road."
I chuckled because I KNOW what this is...

"Yes, mam. I know of SheeeeeARhd and I have worked for him. I have ridden with him. I respect him. I have heard such great things about you and your horses that I'm sorry you have no room. I would really like to meet you." I retorted.

She actually chuckled and said "well, let me see...maybe we can work somezing out. My boarders only pay $*** because they help me out around the barn. I am old and I have things that I can not do all the work anymore. I call them my slaves (lol), my LOVING slaves..."

I was sitting at the end of her long driveway. I was planning on showing up unexpected but there was a gate. She let me in and showed me around. We had a very nice conversation and she told me that she does something that nobody else around does with their horses.

Belda gives them a warm mash and warm lemonade at night for dinner. They get the BEST 12% feed- NOT PELLETTS, some beet pulp, some alfalfa all mixed together with warm water. Then it is covered to "cook" while the lemonade is served in their buckets. She says that it relaxes them. I'm down.

I made plans to come back the next day and get the stall she had appointed to me ready for Dusty.

Originally, she said there weren't any paddock stalls left so he would be in a box stall. When I got there I was very happy because she moved one of her horses so that Dusty can have a paddock. I thought that was very nice.

I asked my friend and farrier, Matt to help me out. I needed to get a truck and trailer. I knew that he maybe had a truck to use, and I like making fun of his fat dog so, I thought it would be fun. We got to the Belda's barn with a load of tack. The plan was to use her truck, go to BFE to get the trailer, come back to move him a mile.

"Where iz zis place your barn?" she asked.
"oh, it's just right down the road, maybe a mile." I said to her as Matt looked at me with wide eyes she spoke the words that I already thought of...
"Well, zen, you wrap his leg up and can you walk him? he can use his leg right? Matt? ziz horse iz ze good horse noh?"

Instantly Matt says "YEAH. We'll walk him."
I'm like, helloooooo it's me? the horses OWNER?- "yah! I guess we could walk him. Lets do it"
"You go. Before traffice gets too heavy. You be fine." She sent us off.

Gulp. Hello? my five year old baby Thoroughbred hasn't trotted a line in two months and were gonna walk him? A mile? down the road? I needed a Xanex badly. Matt began making fun of me, so I cracked on his fat ass dog and it took my mind off of what was about to happen.

We started off down the road of the old barn and I pretty much told Matt to bugger off- "I'll take him." I told him when he tried to grab the lead rope. We walked down towards the horses on the end of the street and Dusty got a little lookie- nothing big, just looking. I got a little bit nervous. Kinda. Sorta. I felt a little tinge of adrenalin and handed the lead rope over. "I just want to watch him walk. I need to see him move" I said, as Matt continued with him from the long driveway onto the side of the road.

It was effortless. Dusty was so well behaved I couldn't believe it. Fed Ex trucks, Busses, Little girls running up to him, kids on bikes, dogs barking and running...he didn't even care. His eyes were wide but never any snorting or excited-ness. He loves new things. He's smart about himself, but he is inquisitive and playful.

Something else good came out of the walk. The swelling on his leg had come down more than it was with anything that I was doing to it. More proof that horses NEED to be moving around.

I just can't be having so much pre-saturn in my post-saturn plan.

One of my main concerns right now while my horse is not getting any exercise per say, is to make sure that his head is happy. I am very careful to monitor his attitude because I think if he is in a good positive and playful mood that he is bound to heal quicker. It's got to work just like a person, right?

There were some things going on at the barn that I boarded him at. Even though the barn manager took very good care of the horses, Dusty was pretty much on his own. The people that had horses there as well as the BM had never seen anyone spend so much time with their horse. I had never seen someone not. The other horses on the property were pretty much yanked out of their pastures every two weeks to walk around with sacks of potatoes on their backs. And, HEY, that's fine. The horses were loved and cared for but the Dusty man is an athlete, not a pasture pet. If those horses could work they would have jobs. Dusty has a career (so-to-say).

The family that lived on the property really took me into their lives, and for that I am thankful. For the anger management issues and family related problems going on there I am not. I thought that I was about to get hit by a 50 year old man because I put Dusty in his night pasture during the day. It happened once before when I asked for the fan to be put up in D's stall because it was getting hot. I got attitude because the fan would use TOO MUCH ELECTRICITY.

It got to the point where I was afraid to ask him to clean out the water trough in the pasture because lilly pads were growing in it. If I did it, then I would get yelled at. He took it as "you won't do your job, so I have to just do it myself." Instead of what I was really trying to do- help out. He wouldn't let me get my horse out of the pasture when he was there. It was HIS JOB. I was a caretaker of 32 horses, it's a hard job and a little help was always appreciated. I couldn't add sawdust. I couldn't give hay. I couldn't clean his water-er. It was like I wasn't even PAYing for these things. If you know me, you will know that I love barn chores. I'm certified.



It was the "pasture incident" day when he was totally irrational. I was calm, just listening to him having a meltdown (it reminded me of my father's worst day times TEN), with his mare attached to him via a lead line wrapped around her neck as he is screaming and shuffling the horse around yanking her neck all over the place. "I want you gone, Chris. I REALLY DO! I want you gone now! Go get the trailer! get that horse out of here!!!NO! MOVE HIM NOooooW!"

Although it ended as it did before, a total apology and words retracted, I couldn't have this behavior around my horse, or around ME. Not anymore...no matter how awesome his German Shorthaired Pointer was.

I feel that I should make it a point to say that these people took care of me. I asked for a bucket warmer and they installed a hot water tank on the wash rack. Whenever I asked for something they made sure to listen. I was appreciative for that and let it be known.
This was just a decision that I had to make. No hard feelings.

Dusty getting Electromagnetic- therapy and chiro.

I would jump over the deck and run down to the street

Lula in the cabin.

I went to Pigeon Forge, Tn. for a trade show to help out. The owner of the company got us a cabin IN the great smokey mountains to stay in while we were there. It was so incredible I can't even describe how needed the trip was for me. I'm very lucky to have been able to go.

There are miles and miles of laughs to get from an old style telephone hanging on the wall and Tequila. "So? for call waiting, do you turn this thing a few more times? for 911 do you just turn it furious-ly? (demonstration)"

The cabin was so in the woods it was like a tree house. I had never been to the Great Smokies before but I can tell you I would really love to return soon. There was a hot tub on the deck of the cabin and most nights I would be left alone sitting amongst the trees, under the moon enjoying each moment. Except for the one night where Lula and I finished off the bottle of Cuervo in the tub and she went in to pass out. I was all alone outside the cabin. Deep in the woods. Half naked. It was all the sudden the making of a bad horror movie and my imagination got so carried away I had my escape plan all mapped out. For when the killer came. He would creep in through the screen door and I would hide under the water...then I would jump over the deck and run down to the street where the killer's buddy would befriend me and tell me he's taking me to safety, only to end up at his camp...
I scared myself. No matter how hard I tried I could not get my thoughts back to that cute boy I talked to earlier. I finally got enough courage to get out of the tub and run into the house. Only one thing. I had to put the cover on the hot tub...

Peach Park! a park with scared pony sculptures that led to a BBQ stand! I LOVE the south!



"Cath, why did you spook the pony?"


Oh yah? lets see a WHOLE city!

Dusty man: laid up.

Dusty has been off work of any kind for about three months now. I haven't been on his back or the back of many other horses for three months. It is frustrating.


Left, back. See where it bulbs out above the fetlock (ankle)?

He has a suspensory injury. This page tells it best. This is probably the reason he started kicking out and trying to bite my foot off back in April of this year. He was "stuck" then he went lame. He was seen by a vet in town and even though he was sour with the left hock flex test and X-rayed hock clear, she never even said anything about maybe a high suspensory. I would like to think that a vet fresh out of school would be familiar with this injury, or that maybe if she thought, for a few minutes about my horse and his symptoms that I could have gone home with "maybe high suspensory" and not "bute twice a day, time off." I'm getting really sick of the "BUTE. TIME OFF." If my horse is hurting then there is a REASON. That reason may be surfacing because my very willing and forward horse WON'T MOVE. I wish I had read the article I linked to back in April. He had most of the symptoms.

If you called your doctor and told him that all the sudden you couldn't walk and he told you to take an asprin and don't walk what would you say? It's just frustrating. Medical professionals could have diagnosed this before he got to this point. He was, as I thought, hurting in there somewhere.

I tried this DMSO stuff that did nothing. So then I got some poultice and it worked to take the swelling down. I am NOT giving him bute everyday. He has not had any reactions to it, but I've read about the studies. He was ultrasounded by a different vet that comes to my new barn and he said six months off. I've been keeping him in standing wrap mostly all the time. I've been using heat instead of cold (because no one ever told me to use heat through this whole thing). The swelling is finally going down. It's looking really good.


Dusty in his (now) ever present standing wrap

Nights like this.

I love nights like this. The Southern air is warm but chilly and the rain has made it foggy and drizzly outside. The humidity and the fog makes it feel sexy all around. I call it a sexy night.

Don't say its bullshit.

(The post about my childhood that I wrote had been sitting in the "drafts" folder for sometime...)
The day after I wrote that I did one of the routine things that I do on my computer daily. I checked my "astrology" widget on the dashboard of my mac.
Here's what I saw:


This really freaked me out because I happen to be in a pretty gray mood and I wrote this post with exactly what the astrology widget said in my thoughts.

I had to take a screen grab and put it up because I observe astrological theories and most of the time I feel that these little daily horoscopes are really to broad, much too general to compare to myself. They are merely for a chuckle, I suppose. BUT NOT THIS ONE. Whoever is writing the daily horoscopes for the mac widget is RIGHT. ON (for me). I would say eight out of ten times it really coincides with my day.

I'm wondering if any other mac users have this same experience?