All about them hooves

On Tuesday night I pawned the kiddo off on my parents, even though yesterday was his birthday (momentary pause while I pat myself on the back for keeping him alive & happy this long!) I then went to a place that is so far outside my normal hangouts it may have well been Mars-a bar. Why, when I am a single mom with the World’s Best & Grumpiest Boyfriend to call on, did I find myself at a bar on a Tuesday night? It’s not because life is just that hard, it was for farming, I swear. A small farmer’s coalition was hosting a panel of local draft horse farmers, & I naturally could not stay away. I had myself a nice, basic glass of white wine, got hit on for a few minutes until the organizer of the nights festivities introduced me to Jessica, a sweet, quiet mechanical engineering student at PSU who has three Kiger Mustangs trained to harness. Sorry, dude who was totally flirting with me. Good luck with your permaculture, but it doesn’t hold a candle to harness broke mustangs. 

Most of the questions posed to the panel (consisting of one of the “old guard” who breeds Shires, an older lady who has a pair of Suffolks & a small farm in the Valley, & a younger guy who had started a vegetable farm with his brother & a pair of Belgians) were fairly basic, ones I already either knew a part of the answer to from my years at Sterling, or had formed opinions on already (barefoot or shod working horses? farm tasks the horses can do? etc). It was still nice to hear the people I want to grow up to be talk-just like at the PNER convention a few weeks ago. These are people who get horses, who love them & the rhythms of life with them, be it for plowing matches or endurance rides. 

There is a stubborn, not always quiet part of my soul that utterly refuses to give up on the hare brained idea that I could build a life around the draft horses & my son, someway, somehow, without leaving Oregon. It’s possible, after all. I have the training, a decent chunk of the knowledge, the steady hands on the lines of both old teams and green horses. I also have the debt, the day job to just barely pay the bills, & the son who must be cared for. 

Just because I can’t see a way from slightly chubby office worker & city girl to fit working farmer & country girl doesn’t mean there isn’t one-or that there is. I do believe it’s time to purchase a Powerball ticket, & maybe email that Jessica & see what comes of it…also there’s a plowing match in April & the kiddo & I will be there.