The Inner Horse

This post is going to make sense to approximately one reader. Sorry to my other one - my next post will be about love, relationships, and sex, so hang in there.

There are so many theories about training horses, and funnily enough, they are all right in some way, or they are all right for someone somewhere. But the real truth about horses is beyond a theory. There is something in the horse, which man can capture, and when he does, he can nurture it, and it can turn into the most powerful thing.

This thing is the inner horse.

Get the use of this and you will never need to mess again with all the tricks and methods that we can spend a lifetime buying/selling/learning. Sometimes I truly feel the power of the horse's spirit, and it's availability to me.

More and more as I go on working with horses I aim my work at connecting with the inner horse, rather than fixing the symptons of the disconnect. Actually with practise it becomes easier to spot the opportunities - here is an example. I was working with this horse that every time you went to put the bridle on, it threw it's head in the air. It was quite dangerous. So what could I have done. Well, I could have used advance and retreat, or I could have just hung in there with the bridle until the horse thought, 'oh, sod it, ok!', or I could have used clicker training (the most extreme example of working with the 'outer horse'), or I could have taken loads of time to build things up between me and the horse until he trusted me enough with the bridle. There are many other 'ways' I'm sure.

I was in a public situation so I was pretty exposed, what with instant internet reports and all, but I thought, well, what is the correct way to do this. It might not be pretty and it might not be to everyones taste but I did it anyway. I just let the horse know that I didn't approve of him throwing his head every time he objected to something I was doing. It was easy - as he threw his head, I just backed him up with some fairly intense energy. Three times he did it before he just stood there and let me put his bridle on - job done!

How is this the inner horse? Well, I didn't train him to do an external action - I changed his mind about me and what he thought he could do and not do around me.

It's not always that easy, but if I can see a way I take it.

Horse trainer psychology - part one

Today's picture is of Splodge's head

I am more concerned with the psychological affects on me of what I am doing, more than I am with what I do. This is mainly because early on in my life I found the going pretty tough at times and I realised that for me, the name of the game was survival.

So now, everything I do, I try to set it up to give me as little psychological stress as possible. A good example of this is my vegetable garden. For years I have fought against nature in the form of slugs, snails, butterflies, and all, and eventually I realised if I am going to continue gardening and maintain my sanity then maybe I need to get organised with some defenses. Now I don't get half the knock-backs I used to get, and I really enjoy getting out there and seeing my plants not all being destroyed by greedy slimey monsters.

So how about the psychology of horse training? Well, I am working on this too. Remember here I am talking about how it psychologically affects me, not about the psychology of the horse. Obviously horses are different to vegetables (although some would disagree) in that horses are affected by your psychological state. It is important to present to the horse a sound state of mind, which in itself is a good incentive to organise your life in a way that promotes this. Horses are not impressed by erratic human behaviour - qualities such as impatience, anger, frustration, and so on do not really help. Horses work well when you are in a calm and balanced frame of mind.

But there is another side to this too. Horsework, at least in my experience, does not always progress in a steady way. Sometimes things move forwards very easily and other times things almost seem to move backwards. It is important to just keep going, and important not to get too involved in evaluating the day by day experience. I try to look at things over a period of time.

* * *

The story of Splodge, cont'd

So what's happened to Splodge - well, soooooooooooooo much.

When I first bought her I was pretty much told by everyone she was an upside down horse and I would never get her to go right. Well, I didn't care at the time - my view was that if she goes where I want to go what the hell more do I want from her. That's still my view really, but I do admit I have got a little more picky about how I want to go where I want to go. Basically what I have added in is that I want her to be concentrating on the job in hand and not have her mind wandering around checking out for lions and tigers or whatever.

So anyway, searching for a way to quieten my horse's mind has led me to all sorts of stuff that I have heard people talking about, but I have never really thought might apply to me and my horsemanship. But it does! Over the last few years I have been studying how the horse's body works, and how the horse's mind works, and as a consequence, to a degree how the horses spirit works too. And a bit like us, it's all linked together.

As hard as I am trying to keep this subject simple, you can already see that it would be easy to write a book about it.

So back to Splodge. I went riding on her yesterday and my oh my she was good. We went up on Easdon Tor with Sarah riding Winston (our new little pony), and as is my way I spent a lot of the ride studying Splodge's mental state. She wasn't perfect but she was good. She got very slightly worried by a herd of ponies about quarter of a mile away from us, and once or twice she was a 'bit rushy' on the downward slopes. But what pleased me the most was that when she rushed she leant into the bit a little and when I asked her not to she quit leaning, rebalanced herself and slowed right down to the speed I wanted to go.

Sometimes it seems like a long old road training a horse, but rides like that feel good!

I know that isn't the story I was going to tell, but somehow that story isn't going to work without a bit of background info about the work I am doing with my horse - I will get to the story in a bit, I promise.

Once upon a time there was a cross horse trainer...

So I don't know if you know this or not, but I earn my living as a horse trainer. I don't earn much of a living - enough to eat and keep from going into debt. I really enjoy my work and I've got this funny idea that by not making a successful business my priority I can totally focus on my work.

Today I was riding Splodge in the school and I was thinking to myself, jeez, what do I know about horses - not much really, and yet I have been teaching horsemanship for nearly ten years now. Does anyone else feel like this about what they do? I learn so much every day and yet I still feel like I don't know much - It's a big subject.

Anyway, the other day I got sucked into contributing to a thread on a Discussion Group. I've been on there before and it's always been very friendly, so I guess maybe I let my guard down. We were having a very nice, and imformative discussion about various training methods, and as I always try to be about everything, I was being very open and honest about how I work.

Yep, you've guessed it - before long I was being cast as the devil trainer who is cruel to horses, admittedly by some people who don't know me and have never watched me work, but somehow it got to me a bit. On the great spectrum of what happens to horses in this world I promise you I am not by any means the worst. If these guys are so concerned about horses why don't they focus their efforts on the REALLY BAD stuff that goes on out there. Actually horses really like me and are generally pretty happy with the dealings they have with me, and actually from my perspective I am far from a bad trainer.

The thread got closed before I could answer the allegations, but anyway, here are a couple of things people said about me.

Sorry but Good luck to the horses is all I can say.

by Rachel

'The one picture that absolutely rocked me was of the poor black horse having to cope with someone dealing in such a way with his mouth....and the reason supplied? To unlock a brace in his poll. There are other ways to do it. Thats all. Hmmmm.....Correct me if I'm wrong but wasn't it the practitioner who said he didn't use gadgets to exert pressure? Just some food for thought......please take as that.

by Apachepony

I also see that fundamentally, myself, and a few others, are a million miles away from this way of handling horses. There have been many points raised that I would once have debated on and on. But then it becomes about ego , and ego has no place with the horse. So, in the interests of peace, I will say thank you very much, I have learned an awful lot from this thread, and sadly not much of it was about the horse

by Apachepony

For what it's worth I may as well add my piece while I'm here.....For me it is all about perception. The HORSES perception not ours. It's about HOW they learn what it is we want them to learn. Clearly horses do learn their lessons with you Tom but it's the HOW that is important to me and the horses. Tom, you say your not pulling, the horse is and whereas this may be true, the result for the horse is still pain in the mouth untill he has learnt what is required of him. You also say you don't use pressure halters... there seemed to be a lot of thin rope halters in the photos. Whether they tighten round the head or not, when you put pressure on any thing made of thin rope, they hurt a d**n site more than ordinary head collars....thats how they work so quickly. They may make us look like great horsemen that we can solve long duration behaviours in an afternoon, but all the horse learns is " Jesus!! unless I do X, I'm gonna get a searing pain behind the ears, right where a host of optical nerves lie!!" And Kas....snap shot, moment in time, it may be but it's still very harsh and when there are better and kinder ways this sort of stuff, in my opinion, is unneccasary

by Julie

Thanks for your comments you guys. I absolutely respect your right to say and do whatever you like, but I really don't like your rudeness - I hope you don't take that to your horses.

To read the full thread visit http://feelforthehorse.proboards82.com/index.cgi?board=review&action=display&thread=884&page=2

Horse stuff!

Don't worry, she's only having a sleep

* * *

"Hi Tom, I've got a horse here that you should really come and take a look at". It was Vicky on the phone and as usual she was trying to sell me a horse.

"So what's so special about this one", I answered rather cynically.

"Well, come and see her, you will love her. She has such a lovely temperament and the guy says if I don't sell her soon he wants her back. I really don't want her to go back to the dealer guy, please come and see her".

"Ok ok, I'll come and see her, but she better be good".

"She is good Tom, I promise, you will love her, she's called Splodge".

"Splodge! for fucks sake, what kind of a name is that!"

* * *

So that afternoon we drove over to Vicky's to take a look at Splodge. I've known Vicky for a few years. She is good horsewoman. Not good in the conventional sense, but she gets horses going really well, and they seem to like her, which counts for a lot in my book. I like the way she rides - sort of a bit wild really. So her horses are used to most things that are going to come their way.

Splodge turned out to be a pretty strange looking horse. One of my friends later suggested I file the front of her head off to make her less ugly. She also had a bit of high wither and a sunken back, like she had maybe been sat on too young. Anyway, I got Sarah to ride her because she can tell pretty quickly if the horse is going to be any good for us or not. She liked her and that was enough for me. After a bit of messing about we eventually bought her and now five years later she is my main horse.

I recently bought a Black Rhino western saddle for her which works really well for both of us.

So what's the point of this story. Well, over the last few days me and Splodge lost our way a bit, and now we are working on getting back on track. I'll tell all in the next post if you are interested (suggested response here is, ooooooooooooh yes please).

Vote NOW!

This blogging thing, I'm not sure what to do with it. I looked back over some of my stuff and it is really quite good, but recently I have to admit, it has been shite! I know some people blog on about having sore kidneys, piles or impotence (amazingly I have none of these complaints), but I kind of feel that my blog should somehow be more than just a record of me me me me!

Please vote for any one of the following ideas.

1) Pretend I am dying from cancer and blog about my remaining few months on earth.

2) Pretend I am a gay guy with two kids, trapped in an unhappy marriage.

3) Pretend I am an absolute stud going for the record presently held by Gene Simmons.

4) Pretend I am having a wild affair with the lady of the manor up the road.

5) Pretend I am on the run from the police since escaping jail for drug offences in the 70s

6) Use the blog to advance my career as a horse trainer.

7) Put up a post telling everyone to Fuck off

8) Fuck off myself

Whichever idea gets most votes, or if anyone comes up with a better idea, I will put it into action.

The most precious thing there is!

Go on, guess!
OK, I'll give you a clue - without it you will be dead.

I once read a book about Bhuddism. There was one thing in it I particularly liked.
This is just my take on it, not the literal translation.

There are four Graces.
First, having a human body.
Second, wanting to know why you have one.
Third, finding out why you have one.
Fourth, doing it.

And NO, it's not sex!

The best sex I ever had, (and it was with a nun)!

So you don't read my blog when I discuss environmental issues or world peace. But this you are interested in!

The Football!

In a desperate attempt to up the ratings I am going to resort to football. Sex, drugs and rock and roll just don't seem to make it anymore.
I want to start by saying I haven't supported the English team for years. We have had (and Vicus, I know you have a philosophical dilemma with the word 'we', in relation to sports teams, so I guess you are out of this discussion) a series of mediocre managers without the balls to drop rubbish, high profile players. We have played in a style that is unbelievably dull, unambitious, and shows no sign of actually wanting to win a game by trying to score goals. And I'm sorry, English though I am, I can't support that crap.
So I always end up supporting the most adventurous attacking teams. Holland is always one of them, and Portugal, Spain and this year, even Russia. So in this competition I am down to supporting Spain. I know they weren't that special against Italy, but it's difficult to play against that kind of negative approach. That's why England's games are always so crap - shit football breeds shit football, and it's not pretty or clever.
By the way, when we get a manager who decides it's time to play good attractive attacking football, of course I will support our national team.

Busy Busy Busy!

Jeez I'm tired.
I am self-employed and not much good at business. I know, it's a disasterous combination, but I just am totally unable to work for someone else doing some totally irrelevant stuff.
So what I do is, when the work is there, I work. And for some reason, the last few of months the work has been there. And it looks like being that way for a month or two yet.
I have always had this thing that if I am any good the work will come. I never want to hype what I do. I never want people to think I am something I am not. I kind of know me and Sarah are good at what we do, but you never really know do you!
The other thing is the work we do - I have this belief that it depends on a professional attitude. By that I mean the quality of the work has to be the priority, so I kind of never want the purpose of the work to be to make money - the work has to be done because it is the correct thing to do. That must not be compromised.
So anyway, serious shit yeah! And being tired is because we are busy, so something must be right I guess.
Gotta go sleep zzzzzzzzzzzzz 10 hours needed minimum, and only seven left tonight aaaaaagh!

My Ideal Day by Tom Slobhard

10 hours sleeping
3 minutes sex
2 hours cooking and eating
3 hours on my computer
2 hours watching a good film on telly
1 hours watching good quality comedy on telly
1 hours coffee break in the morning chatting with friends
1 hours gardening
2 hours horsework
1 hours sort of meditating
1 hours doing odd jobs/pottering

See I knew it, there is just not enough time in the day!

Shithouses I have used - Nos. 43, 44 and 45

No 43 - Glastonbury 1971 - a six foot deep trench roughly dug out with a JCB, with scaffold boards to squat/sit on. This was fairly bad - lots of really choking smells, and sights to behold beyond your wildest imagination. And needless to say, the odd hippy having to climb out after having lost balance during the evacuation process. Not somewhere to visit at the height of your trip.

No 44 - Mehrauli, Delhi 1971 - These ancient loos in a buddhist monastry were truly magnificent. Eight feet high hollow concrete cubes with a eight inch square hole in the centre of the top. They were situated in a beautiful walled compound and while squatting over the hole, in the glorious dawn sunlight, you were just high enough to see the magnificent old temples that are just everywhere in that area.
Monks had been shitting in these holes for centuries and mysteriously, they never seemed to fill up. There was no smell, and the best thing was, after you finished crapping, a mongoose came along and went down the hole to see if there was anything of value left behind (in my case, at the time I had bad ameobic dysentry , so I guess he left pretty dissappointed.

No 45 - Vagator Beach, Goa 1972 - These were my favourite loos of all time. Way ahead of the game, this was permaculture in action Big Time. The loos were small dark cells, providing a nice cool refuge from the baking hot Goan sun. You just hung your arse over this ledge and shat. As your turds hit the deck outside, you could hear the satisfied grunts of the Goan pigs enjoying the latest offerings, yum yum.
And yes, the locals did eat pork.

Old Hippy Speaks

I had this idea that maybe it's about time I said what I think. Maybe I have been playing Mr Reasonable for a bit too long. So have I got the balls, that's the question, and will it do any good, and does it matter anyway? These, and other deep philosophical questions will be explored in depth in due course.

Forty years ago we knew this crazy consumerist society was a load of shit, going nowhere. We worked out that happiness was not linked to materialism. And we worked out that plundering the planet for short term greed would be a disaster sooner rather than later. So now here we are again, and no fucker listened, and guess what, they're still not listening. You educated twats, you power hungry idiots, you thick suckers, you cannot keep taking from a finite supply - it will run out!

Today I listened to this total arsehole trying to explain that the only way to feed the ever expanding population of human beings was to mechanise and industrialise global agriculture. Jeez, There is so much land being under-utilised and so many people doing pointless jobs - why doesn't anyone put two and two together and start encouraging people to use the land correctly to grow good food as it is meant to be grown. Have you any idea how much food you can grow on a small patch of land if you do it properly - I can tell you, it's a lot! And I'll tell you why no-one is encouraging it, it's simple - there is no way they can make obscene profits from local living, but guess what, they can from huge great enterprises, where they can steal cheap labour and keep land ownership in the hands of the few.

'Oh, I don't want to grow food, I don't want to get my hands dirty, I want to earn obscene amounts of money doing stuff that absolutely doesn't need doing - and I want to buy fast cars and fancy watches, and suits made by poncy designers'.

Oh Please Guys! it's getting near time when you have to grow up and get real!

Signing Out

No, don't panic! I'm not abandoning my blog, not just yet anyway.
Last night I watched the gorgeous Pamela Stevenson interview Gene Simmons. I actually like most of what I've seen of this guy, but I would say he is a bit of a challenge, and I think she did pretty well under the onslaught of his 'alpha male' behaviour.
So over 35 years or so this guy says he has shagged 4800 women - that's near enough three a week. Naturally enough, the gorgeous one wanted to find out how this has affected and formed his views about women. It was quite shocking really, or at least I found it so. He pretty much just sees woman as targets - in a way I guess maybe all of us men do too, but the difference is he goes for it. Pamela was great though - every advance he made she just dead panned him, and stood her ground.
Anyway, what has this got to do with 'signing out'? Nothing really, except it made me look at the way I have lived my life, and where I have got to now, and what I am doing, and what is up ahead, and so on and so on. So no different to a normal day for me really.
Could I just do my garden, ride my horse, and live quietly with my wife? If I do this would I lose my 'male pride' between now and when I die, and who gives a f*** if I do?
Do I need a project? Do I need to make some impact on this world? Do I need to prove I stand out from the bunch?
Not really do I - so can I sign out!

Defining moments in life - No.14

The first time I had sex I couldn't believe something that good didn't actually cost me anything.
That's not totally true, it did cost me something - I had to go into our local barber's, and in front of a line of old men waiting to get their 'short back and sides', I had to ask for a packet of Durex (in the UK they weren't called condoms back then). In those days you couldn't just go and quietly hide them under the cornflakes packet in your supermarket shopping basket. I slinked in there and the guy said, 'So what do you want then?' I died a thousand deaths as I could feel all these old men thinking, 'Oi, you're too young to need those, and you're not married either, you dirty hippy!
After a while I sussed out that one of the local garages had a vending machine in their loo that sold condoms, albeit at twice the price, but I didn't care. Anything to be spared running the gauntlet of the local barber's, phew!!

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Of Horses

Annie – OK, let’s get started. The first question I’d like to ask is this: I’m really not clear what natural horsemanship is?

Tom – No, nor am I. Maybe you need to ask someone who practises it.

Annie – I thought that’s what you did? You do something different to other people don’t you?

Tom – Well, not really. If you look back through old horse books, you can see that there is not much going on now that didn’t go on then. It seems to me that a lot of people who strive to improve their horsemanship end up with very similar realisations.

Annie – What realisations?

Tom – Well, central to everything is the need for a relaxed horse. That is the first and foremost job that needs to be done. Trying to teach or work with an unrelaxed horse is neither effective or enjoyable.

Annie – So how do you recommend we get the horse to relax?

Tom – My first priority is to provide the horse with the mental security that he needs. Get the horse’s attention, then provide clear boundaries of personal space and be in control of the movement. If you think about it, this is often 180 degrees opposite to what a lot of owners give their horses. Once you have that established, then you need to practise being consistent and clear in your instructions. Horses do not relax with grey areas and mixed messages.

Annie – Is this something you can do pretty quickly?

Tom – It varies from horse to horse. Some horses will immediately accept the situation and be only too happy to trust me. Others may have more difficulty: maybe because of some history or perhaps occasionally their temperament, they just may not be able to make that decision to trust so easily. In those situations, I continue to present to the horse a simple offer of security and consistency, and the job takes however long it takes.

Annie – So does your theory work with every horse? How long would you carry on before you gave up on a horse, for example?

Tom – It’s not really ‘my theory’ – but anyway, most horses will come round sooner or later. Some horses have very good reasons not to believe that a human has their best interests at heart – I have met a few where I have thought, ‘No, it’s too dangerous and not worth it’, but there’s usually someone who will give them a go.

Annie – I’ve heard you say that you no longer work with problem horses. Surely anyone can work with horses that don’t have problems?

Tom – What I sometimes say is this: life is not forever, so do the work you enjoy doing. I’ve met too many people struggling on, out of some sense of duty and against all the odds, with totally inappropriate horses. Enjoy your horse, that’s all I’m saying. Right now, one of my horses has several fairly difficult issues, some may say problems, but I am enjoying working with her, so that’s fine.

Annie – Can you talk a bit about the way you work with horses? I’ve watched you work and listened to you comment as you go, and you do have some fairly strong ideas about how things should be.

Tom – I have a fairly strong paradigm, that’s true. I don’t like to see confused horses, so it is important their owners are not confused, that’s for sure. I have a clear job that I want my horse to do. Put simply, I want my horse to be able to take me safely where I want to go, how I want him to go and at the speed I want to go – that is my aim. I want my horse to do the work – why have a dog and bark yourself, that’s the way I see it. When I watch some riders, they seem to be doing all the work – my idea is to sit and relax and use the horse’s energy, not mine. Surprisingly, horses know how to do pretty much all the things we ask of them – they can walk, stop, trot, canter, etc, without us showing them how, they’ve been at it since they were foals. If you are working hard to get all this, then I’d be thinking maybe you have trained your horse to do some things the opposite way to what I would have done. You see some people pulling around on the horse’s mouth, or holding on tight to the reins, and driving the horse into the bit – I don’t get all that. I absolutely start from the point of view: if it’s a struggle, it’s most probably wrong.

Annie – So are you saying you should just let your horse go along all strung out? You know people aren’t going to go for that.

Tom – No, I’m not saying that at all, but what I am saying is that a horse should be able to balance itself. There are plenty of good horse people who can ride their horses nicely without micro-managing them. How can you train your horse to understand the bit if you’re forever hanging on to it? He will never learn – or perhaps what I should say is that what he will learn is to tolerate the illogical pressure which, for some reason he doesn’t understand, you are putting in his mouth.

Annie – I’m sorry, can you explain what you mean there about the bit?

Tom – Sure. I don’t want to train my horse to pull or lean on the bit. I want him to relax with the bit so that we can communicate through it. Maybe the difference is I want my horse to understand pressure and release. I don’t want to feel a ton of weight – or really any weight – in my hands. For one thing, if I have to use my muscles to hold up my horse – well, that’s me doing the work. Also, for those riders who want to collect up their horse or whatever you want to call it, if your horse is relaxed and soft with the bit then you can pick him up any time you like. These are my aims, this is what I am working towards. I want my horse to be so good that if a really accomplished rider comes along I can hand them the horse and they will think, ‘Yes, Tom, you have made a good start here. This horse is a pleasure, and from this point I will easily be able to take things on to a higher level’.

Annie – I understand what you are saying, Tom. My last question is this. Why do you like working with horses?

Tom – Because, Annie, when I feel my horse working with me, 100% concentrated and focused on the job, soft and relaxed within himself, happy in his work, that is a good feeling. The potential at that point feels almost infinite!


Tom's book ‘Be With Your Horse’, and details of his clinics are available at www.bewithyourhorse.com

Prem Rawat - my teacher

Thirty five years ago I was living in the hills in a remote part of Wales. I had survived the glorious years of the late 60s, been to India, and returned to see the hippy dream of a society based on love, in tatters. I sought refuge in the quiet of the countryside.
I kind of knew by this time, that the secret to a successful life was inside myself - or to put that in a less 'spiritual' way, how I feel is all important - if I feel good, then life is fine. But as you probably know, feeling good is not always an easy option - it can come and go, and life can send some real tough times our way too.
I knew quite a lot about Indian philosophy by this time, and a lot of the theory rang true with my own experience. I pored over the scriptures, and practised yoga and meditation. I ate what I considered a very pure diet, and I adhered to a fairly tight moral code. I tried to accept what life sent my way, which wasn't always easy. I had some kind of understanding of the theory of the laws of karma, and I figured if I stopped acting in my own interest and allowed my life to take its course, liberation would be along shortly.

Now I look back at my noble efforts - I am not going to mock them ( please feel free if you would like to) but boy, am I glad that I don't live my life by those theories now.

***

Two years earlier Prem Rawat had come to the west. I had seen him speak at Glastonbury festival in 1971. I had also met some of his students in India, but at that time I wanted to pursue my own way. In April of 1973 I travelled down to London and received the techniques of what he calls 'Knowledge'.

That afternoon I left the house in Muswell Hill where the Knowledge session had taken place and I knew that I had just found out something pretty important. The guy that was with me said, 'Well, that was a waste of a day, wasn't it?', but I was flying.

Since then I have practised Knowledge pretty much every day, and I thoroughly enjoy it. I found it hard at first - I didn't really experience much when I first started, but as the years have gone by I began to experience more - I grew to look forward to the feeling and appreciate the simplicity of life that it gives me. Many of my friends who received knowledge all those years ago have since quit practising, but I've kept going. I love the way it puts me in the moment, and I love the way it helps keep things in perspective for me. The feeling I got on that first day, where I finally had the realisation that my mind and thoughts are not me - that experience has done me proud so far.

I don't tend to tell people about Prem Rawat and Knowledge. Once or twice I have, but it's all a bit close to home for me if you know what I mean. Some people get upset by it, and think it's a religion or a cult. I don't see it that way, there's no commitment like that - it's just a way of feeling good, that works for me.

Land for Sale

My eldest son Paul lives with his family in the Pyrenees, or near them. They own some land there and are doing up a ruin of a house to live in. To help finance the project they are trying to sell some of the land and another ruin. I just received this email from Paul.

We've just had a very uncomfortable few days with a couple of guests who'd come to look at the ruin and the land. Sarah ended up nearly chucking them out and said she'd rather work seven days a week for years than have them as neighbours. The woman was a bloody awful sanctimonious New Ager, absolutely no respect at all. I prefer "ordinary" people; fuck, I prefer people with really big tellies and who wash their cars on Sunday mornings!

Anyway, we've got some other people interested including a pretty sound French guy who'd make a good neighbour I think. We've set the "hippy filter" to maximum strength now - anyone named after a tree, a rock, a pagan festival or a heavenly body is out for a fucking start! Someone e-mailed us this morning saying that they loved the advert, but would wait a couple of months & if it was still unsold that might be the time! Fuck off! Her name was Saphire apparently. I should have put "fruitcakes need not apply" at the bottom of the ad!

How the hell did something so good as the original hippy ideal turn into such a nightmare. We've got kids round here called fucking Leaf and Tree - for fuck's sake. What next eh!

The meat on your plate

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Hello, I have just been born. I am a female lamb so if I grow well and make a good sheep it will be a few years before I am electrically stunned, hung on a hook and have my throat slit. My brothers have about eight months before that happens to them.

I live on an organic farm, so while I am alive my life will be about as good as it gets for a sheep. Sweet unfertilised grass, no medicines or vaccines, a pretty cool owner who does his best to keep my stress levels to a minimum. At least when I am killed my meat will be pure and sweet, as God intended it to be. Sure it will cost more for you to buy bits of me, but hey, it's worth it just to know that you are not supporting the multi-national chemical industry, and also to know that you are not polluting your body and the planet. Quite important - dontcha think!

Kind Regards

A N Other-Sheep

I can't believe these survived. We went out last night at 11.00 in terrible weather, and found this first timer ewe at the top of the field with her waters broken. We got all the sheep in and I caught her and put her in a pen. I felt to see if the lamb was in the correct postion - I could feel the feet, so we decided to come back in an hour. When I got back at 1.30 she had the tiniest pair of twins I've ever seen. They were alive and she was interested in them, but I couldn't face waiting to see if they drank, so I went back to bed. This morning there they were, very tiny but very alive.

Life - a step by step guide

Sorry Guys, this blog is temporarily doing my nut in. So I am going to carry on with my policy of writing for the sake of it, and seeing what manifests. The rules are that you must not delete, except of course for typos. So, it's a dangerous game to play. Of course you will never know if I have cheated, but believe me I won't. If these fingers take me into the darkest corners of my mind, then so be it, you poor sods are either gonna have to click to another page, or read on, compare my madness to yours, and relax in the knowledge that you are not alone.

Some times I go for really long times feeling really good. Enjoying what is actually a very easy life, at least easy in comparison to the lives most people have. I don't work at a meaningless job, I actually do pretty much what I enjoy doing, working outside with horses - it's fun. I am not poor, and I eat well. I live in a nice house in a nice place. My neighbours are cool. I have a nice family. So far in my life I have good health. Once when I was young I got into some desperately heavy shit in my head, but since then, by the grace of god, I have done ok, at least, I have survived. I know that the thoughts can go anywhere, and I know not to take too much notice. I know to enjoy the feeling of life, and appreciate and be greatful for it.

It's easy to to get complacent. I try not to.

And then every once in a while things get difficult, in my head. I know the drill now - ride it out. Don't do anything important, or at least don't make decisions based on how I feel at this time. And soon something will snap me out of it. I guess for some folks maybe not - but usually for me a few days and I'm back into the good stuff. I go out and dig a few ditches, tidy up a few places - meaningless shit that keeps me out of trouble.

Yesterday my horses were so sweet. We have three mares that we are working on right now, and every day things move along. We do this thing where we want every step of the way to be perfect. The reason for this is that firstly, you don't want to put work on top of anything that isn't good; and secondly, it just makes it harder anyway. If you build your horse from the base up, and get each piece of the job in place correctly, then the theory is that you can make a great horse. It suits me, because I am not technically so great, but I am quite good at one step at a time.

Anyway folks, hang in there, there will be a joke coming along soon.

Unspontaneous Combustion

When I click that 'new post' button, and I have absolutely no idea what I am going to write... Boy I don't like that feeling. Relying on spontaneous creativity - not something I'm known for in this life. But hey, I'll give it a go, and for once I won't allow this blog to deviate into the unsavoury areas of life where my mind so often leads me. I will attempt to steer it manfully towards a few of the wholesome subjects that I am familiar with. If the post is a disaster, well, never mind, at least it buries the psychotherapy one which really didn't get the response I was hoping for.

I know everyone prefers light hearted satirical banter, but sometimes it's just not in me. And if I only write when I feel like that I probably wouldn't have written a word since John shagged Edwina (thank you Vicus for reminding me of the golden era).

I don't want to write about those famous twats. The media kind of gives us the impression that they are all that is going on, and we are not happening. In reality, we are happening, and they are too, but not in the way they think. They are happening in the same way we are - living their lives, the same as us. I once met a famous person (well, actually I have met several). I love it when I do because I always pretend I don't know they are 'special', and they kind of have that look in their eye, 'Don't you know who I am?'.

That's the point you tosser, I know exactly who you are - you're just a bloke, the same as me!

Psychotherapy, or should I just stick my head up my arse?

I'm sorry but I've had it with all that bollocks, not that I know anything about it, or have ever been anywhere near it, which I am sure you will agree, makes me eminently qualified to write on the subject. Around us they have something called buddhist psychotherapy - someone should tell them that what the Buddha was on about was getting beyond your mind, not messing about in it.

I was chatting to a girl the other day and she was telling me most of what she was having to deal with was caused in the womb, at her birth, and during the first three years of her life. As usual with all these therapies, you have to get worse before you get better, which is quite handy really, especially if you happen to be the therapist charging how ever many bucks a session to encourage someone to talk a load of bollocks.

What I want to know is this, why, if you are feeling bad, would you want to go and start digging around in a pile of shit (your mind) and make yourself feel worse. And just in case you haven't realised, here's a little bit of information I'll give you for free - your mind has no end, it's a can of worms, undo one knot and there is another - that is not a great place to go to feel good. Far better I would say, find something that makes you feel good, and that takes your focus away from your mind, and frees you up from it.

So you know me, or maybe you don't, but I would never slag something off without giving some practical alternative, so here it is. One thing you could try is go and have a good shag. That sometimes helps. But if you can't do that, or if you truly want to be really free, then find the energy that keeps you alive - that will make you feel good, guaranteed!

Scary Moments with Lesbians - No14, an occasional series

Don't get me wrong, I actually like lesbians, I've got loads of pictures of them upstairs (ok, I borrowed that joke from my friend, it's funny isn't it!).
Now the thing is for most of my life I have lived out in the country. While I am looking at the flowers in the hedgerows, all sorts of important modern cultural developments completely pass me by. For example, I remember the exact moment when I realised that Mr Plod wasn't just a really nice chap who was there to keep me safe from baddies and tell me the way to some place when I'm lost. One day the plods came round to our place searching for drugs, ransacked the whole house and generally tried to drive us out of town - I know I was only a kid but I was truly shocked - I was and still am sooooooo naive about stuff like that.
Anyway, back to the lesbians. I was in love with a girl who was an art student in Bath and, desperate to see her, I was hitching a ride to the westcountry. This big old Transit van pulled up, the passenger door opened, a girl got out and I jumped in the back. The floor in the back of the van was covered with mattresses and there was a young kid in there, so I just started talking to her about her toys and it all seemed fine. Then I started to listen to the conversation that was going on up front - my oh my, I'd never heard anything like it before in my life. These two girls so hated men it wasn't true. I started to realise that the way that I viewed girls was just so completely BAD I was gonna be lucky to get out of this van alive.
And then they started to grill me, and I was so scared... I tried my best to let them know that first and foremost I viewed everyone as a human being, but they seemed to just know, and proceed to tell me, that the way I was looking at women was politically totally unacceptable. Oh my, oh my, I was in the shit, trapped in the back of van and being terrorised by two extremely militant man-hating lesbians.
Well, I am quite lucky in a way, in that I am quite good at smarming my way out of difficult situations, and after a while I managed to charm my way into their well buried hearts. They pulled over in this big layby and let me go. There was a little van there selling refreshments so I got myself a coffee, sat down under a tree, got my tobacco out and had a smoke. A few minutes later I was ready to face the world again. Phew, that was close!!!!

The Art of Living - part 16

Well the thing is, I do give this a lot of thought, so fair do's I'm gonna write about it. Of course I realise, as my good friend Vicus has pointed out to me on more than one occasion, if you want to get plenty of comments, sex, tits and arses is definitely the way to go. Lists of things sometimes work well too!
But the path of compromise is not for me - I will not shy away from the important fact that we are alive, just to make a successful blog. So here are a few tips I have picked up along the way - try some of them out if you like and see how it goes, but don't blame me if you end up a miserable cynic, alone at your keyboard in a darkened room.

So here is my list.
1) Don't interfere in other peoples lives, and in return expect them not to interfere in yours.
2) Eat good healthy food, preferably organic.
3) Always say nice things to girls - they love it.
4) Try not to worry about money - it comes and goes, and it is not the source of happiness.
5) Live now, if you can.
6) Don't get caught up in all that bollocks about pensions.
7) Mute all adverts and despise famous people who advertise tacky supermarkets.
8) Try not to give a fuck what people think of you.
9) Make feeling good within yourself your priority.
10) Don't take advice from old hippies.

This list was compiled with virtually no thought whatsoever, and comes with no guarantees.

The Art of Dying - Part 2

Many many years ago I read this book about an Indian saint. The one thing I remember is that this saint was so desperate to understand what his life was about, that he decided he would rule out everything it wasn't about, and see what was left after that. He used to wander around saying, 'Neti, neti' (not this, not this). So for example, he would come across something in the world that promised him some satisfaction and he would either do it, or think about it, and decide, no, that's not it, and then he would move onto the next thing.

I never really forgot about that book, or to be more accurate, my memory of it.

Several years later I was working as a builder on a big project turning a house into a hotel. As it turned out the guy who owned the place had a heart attack and died while we were working there. As he lay dying his last words were 'Don't forget to tell Brian about the vent axia'.

Now, that's what I'm talking about here - how everything in life is relative. Just how important was the vent axia? For me, I've never been able to make it that important, because I know in the end the vent axia is neither here nor there. And that is what I mean when I say maybe there is some value in practising the art of dying. Get ready cos it's coming - that moment when the truth dawns will arrive. Neti neti will stare us in the face.

* * *

This morning I was sitting down as I usually do, and observing the thought patterns going through my mind. I could see that I had a choice to pursue those thoughts, or abandon them. One topic after another came into my mind, and each time I did my best to leave it behind. Beyond those thoughts is nothing.

Nothing matters - nothing ever happens - nothing is forever - It feels good!

PS - no drugs were used before or during the writing of this post.
PPS - if you are living your life for the afterlife, this post won't make any sense whatsoever. Sorry!

Disappearing up Uranus - Part 34

OK, this is a promise. I will not write a new post until I get ten comments - so work it out everyone - if you want me to shut up and go away, then it's very easy, don't comment. To help this process along I will continue with my more recent theme of making my posts devoid of any interest or humour whatsoever - well, I might have to make perhaps just one knob or arse joke - it's my nature, I can't help it, but as most of you don't consider that humour anyway, that should be ok.

I was recently having this discussion with a friend about the major differences between men and woman - not talking physical here, more psychological and behavioural. Many years ago I realised that men were basically some kind of living organism being dragged around the universe by a huge cock (ok, not all of you have a huge one). I just love the image of that analogy - it would obviously be easier to envisage with the help of hallucinagenic drugs, but give it a try without - it's pretty easy.

But the woman thing is not so easy for me to work out. To say it's almost a complete mystery is very near the truth for me. What makes them tick? What drives them on? How come just food and telly satisfies them? I just don't get it.

Answers on a postcard please to, Mystified of Newton Abbot.

A Rocky Mountain Horse

Today I did a second session with Erica's Rocky Mountain horse. The horse is a five year old in foal mare that Erica has imported from the USA. When the mare arrived in England, she proved to be a bit more of a handful than Erica had expected.

I've kind of stopped going out to help people with their horses, mainly because it's not the horses that need help, it's the people. It is an absolute prerequisite to me working with someone that they have to know and accept that it is them that needs to change. Somehow, over the years we have managed to successfully shift the responsibility of the deal between us and the horse, right back onto the horse. I never want to hear ever again that you have a 'bad horse', or a 'naughty horse', or it's trying to evade you, or it's 'cheeky', or some other such nonsense.

So working with Erica's horse, firstly last week, when it seemed like the mare had no idea of the concept of work, to this week when within a minute ot two she was showing me that she was more than happy to work - well, for me it was a joy. But what I want to say is this. That horse is from a working breed, and there is another horse in the same yard from Argentina that is also from a working horse background, and boy does it show. Somehow in this country, over the years we have managed to lose so much of that sweet work ethic in our horses. And perhaps even more of a concern, we have managed to lose it in our horsemanship too.

It's simple stuff, this horsemanship, and do you know what - there are a few too many people out there making it far too complicated. Sounds familiar doesn't it.

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My 2008 prediction

I've just been studying the planetary situation, and from my extensive knowledge of astrology, I feel it is only fair to share my findings. It may be that this information will make the difference between a successful or otherwise 2008 for you.

You probably already know of course, that right now Pluto is rising adjacent to Uranus. This strongly indicates that during the coming months you should expect a big surprise from behind.

OK, I know, but I only make one joke a year, and time's running out. And I have never come to terms with the fact that they named a planet after my arse. And I love Uranus jokes - how fucking childish is that!

So, as in my first life....

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So three posts running I went into double figures with my comments, so I'm gonna risk throwing in a post about Second Life. I've been playing the game for well over a year now, and I just wanted to update you on the latest developments.

As some of you may know, last year my avi got engaged to a very nice girl called Rosie. Well one way and another, things didn't work out for us and a few weeks ago we broke up. It wasn't very nice for either of us and as in my first life, I didn't really deal with the break-up too well. Needless to say, I bounced back and moved on to a whole new social scene. I started hanging out with a bunch of writers and before long I met Leni.

Leni's path in SL has been very different to mine - when I first met her she was heavily involved in a role play game called Gor. The game of Gor is derived from the novels of a guy called John Norman, and it is all based around the theme of male domination. So obviously, once I heard about it, off I went to check it out. Sorry to disappoint you everyone, I didn't go and check it out at all. But I might go later OK, for research purposes only and for reasons that I will now explain.

Leni and I are now very busy setting up an alternative newspaper in SL in the style of the alternative papers of the late 60s. I have no idea if it is going to work out or not. But right now we have an office and we are advertising for staff. And all this is happening in a virtual world where none of it actually exists.

Love and Peace

I'm reading a really great book at the moment called 'Scrapbook of a Taos Hippy'. When we were travelling back from Phoenix to Denver we drove through New Mexico and stopped off for the night in Taos. The next day we walked up into town for our morning coffee and visited this really nice little bookshop. Sarah found this book and said to me, 'You're going to love reading this'. She was so right!

The book is as it says, a scrapbook. Loads of articles and stories about the Taos hippy scene in the late 60s and early 70s. God almighty, it touches my heart when I read it. All the emotions come flooding back. Remembering the time when I realised no way can I embrace the values of western society, and wondering where the hell there was for me to exist in this world. And then it happened - Love and Peace - my get out of jail free card, coming along at just the right time. I didn't need asking twice - I signed up on the spot.

The remnants of the hippy scene in the UK are not as visible as in the States, or at least the parts of the States we visited. Here there are just a few old druggies around the place, but most of the more productive of us have drifted into business, green issues or the media. To be truthful, if I didn't keep banging on about it, you wouldn't know that to this day, I am still utterly committed to the very same ideals I lived by over 40 years ago. In the States things are much more visible - I get the feeling it was a more powerful culture over there.

People take the piss out of old hippies - well fuck them I say, we were so far ahead of the game most people are only just beginning to catch up.

Here are a couple of excerpts from Iris's book.

'We've been learning all we can about conservation, organic farming, natural foods, herbal medicine, handcrafts, building - all that it takes to live simply and in harmony with our beautiful land, our animals, our bodies and our spirits.'

'We don't want to exploit this land, these animals, these brothers and sisters. We don't want to go into business and make money. We want to live and grow, and treat all things with love and respect.'

My heroes - or is it just cos they died?

I can't get the video thing to load - so you are meant to listen to this track as you read this OK.

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=UgleColDNpw

I know we have to die - I actually practice dying. I think I am kind of OK with the actual 'not existing anymore' bit of it. I guess the tough bit is not so much your own death as other peoples. That can be a bit of a bastard for sure.

Anyway, I was just thinking about a few of my heroes that have died. Before I list them, I just want to say, I don't have heroes OK, but these are a few people who I would have liked to see what they would have done if they'd stayed alive a bit longer.

John Lennon - I guess he's top of my list. I loved that guy. I know he was flawed, but who the fuck isn't.

Frank Zappa - Just so brilliant and so cool. Go on youtube and watch him being interviewed. One of the cleverest guys ever. And who could play the guitar so well and be such a cool dude at the same time.

Can't think of any others right now, can you?

Bad acid trips No 23 (circa 1971)

Travelling through Turkey and Iran was quite an intimidating experience for me. Most of the time I could see that the people didn't really want us to be there, and the whole place somehow felt like it was above the law. The arab guys just couldn't quite cope with the way our girls were, and I think they found the whole of the 'hippy' culture very threatening. There was this awful vibe that anything could happen, and no-one would really care. So when we pulled into the 'western' campsite in Tehran, it was like finding a cultural oasis in the desert. No offence guys, if you're Iranian or Turkish, we just had different values I guess.

God alone knows why, but when John, the Canadian whose VW van we were travelling in, suggested we all take some acid, for some unbelievable reason we all agreed. Now as far as I can remember, he just stayed in the van with his girl, I can't remember her name, and spent the whole night shagging. But for me it was another story. I had the full works that night - probably the most scary trip I ever experienced - utter uncontrollable fear! I kid you not, for about six hours I thought I was a goner, with no hope ever of getting back to my sane mind. At one point I sat with Jan, my travelling companion and girlfriend, in a small glade, and all I could see everywhere were snakes. We were sitting in a sea of snakes. They were in her hair, they were all over us. It was truly horrendous.

To make matters worse I had this real big thing about having sex while I was tripping, and it was really pissing me off that John was there doing it, while I was stuck in hell.

OK OK OK, do you know I was chatting to a girl in Second Life the other day, and she said, 'Christ, I'm not used to this, most people I meet in here are so cool and easy-going, and you are so bloody serious'.
'Bloody hell', I thought, 'I'm supposed to be the cool one, what's going on?'
And now I'm looking back and thinking, 'God, I'll take serious babe, I'm just lucky to be here'.

As the sun came up over the Iranian hills, I could feel the warmth on my back. The acid started to wear off, and I began to feel good again. I went for a swim in the pool and felt the water moving over my skin. I ate some bread - it tasted really good. 'Phew, I'm still alive'. I thought.

You know I've always said, let anyone who wants to, take as many drugs as they want. But I'll just say this, I saw a lot of guys wandering around India with not much brains left. And recently in the States, I saw a load of drugged up old guys too. It's a waste of an opportunity, that's all.

So my advice now would be, just go steady OK.

Does size matter?

Did you see that programme on BBC3 last night where men were talking about the size of their dicks. My wife wouldn't let me watch it, she said she didn't want me getting all depressed. I guess from her vast knowledge of the subject she should know. But secretly I know it was because she wanted to watch 'I'm a celebrity, get me out of here'.

Anyway, if you have it on DVD send me a copy. Don't get me wrong, I'm not obsessed by this. Purely for research purposes only you understand.

Harry Whitney and Mark Rashid - part 2

I didn’t really do Harry Whitney justice in my last post about him.
Putting together the two weeks of clinic that we did, and seeing it in terms of where we were at with our horsemanship just before we left for the States, it has actually been near perfect for us.

So where were we at when we left. Well, I’ll try to explain. For some time now I have been uncertain about just how far I should go to get what I want from my horses. You know that old chestnut, ‘use as little as possible, but as much as it takes’. Well, on the ground I’m pretty ok with that, and that shows in the success I have there. I now realise that I have been seriously losing out on my riding simply because I have imposed all sorts of limitations on what I can and can’t do while I ride my horse.

I never ever want to forget that moment when Mark said to me, ‘Do what you have to do – it’s not about what it looks like, you have to get the job done’. Even after he’d said it about four times it still took me three days to get it done – boy was that horse glad when I did get round to it. Suddenly the horse was free and off we went.
So then it was off to Harry’s.

I was quite nervous waiting to meet him, and so relieved when I realised what a nice bloke he is. I can tell you now 100%, anyone, just anyone, could talk to Harry – he is one of the most approachable, humble, kind and knowledgeable about horses people I have ever met. Another worry I took to Harry’s was, I have been very careful about watching trainers – since I realised that I liked the way Mark works I have not seriously looked at other trainers. Sarah has looked at loads and she often comes back worrying because she doesn’t like what they are doing, or she thinks we should be doing more. She often comes back and says ‘I think we should be doing such and such’, which we try for a while and then we just go back to what we do best. Actually I do admit that we add in stuff from here and there, and of course we work out our own stuff as we go too.

It didn’t take me long of watching Harry to see that his horsemanship is very much along the lines of Mark’s (or the other way round!). As Harry said to me, the horse is the common factor, and if you come at it from a certain direction you will end up at a similar place. So that’s interesting isn’t it – which direction are you coming from. To put it bluntly, what is your purpose? Is it to win, to look good, to make money, to be better than anyone else, to prove to yourself you can do it, to improve your life, or is it…..nah, it's not for me to say.

No, that’s a cop out there by me isn’t it – so is your purpose to be the best you can be for your horse all the time, and anything else that happens is a bonus or not. That is the purpose I am aiming to find in all my work.

I am not going to get into summing up Mark and Harry’s work, or as someone asked me when I got home, ‘so who is best then?’ It was just so good to have what we are doing here kind of confirmed and pushed on by watching these two guys work. Would I recommend a trip out there to work with either of them? For sure I would. When Sarah and I were discussing the utter irresponsibility of what we had just done to our finances by going on this trip, I asked her would she be happy to not know what we have just learned. ‘No way’, she replied, and neither would I be either. Of course I know there is more and more still to learn, but that’s horses isn’t it. It’s fun!

Hey, hey, hey, who's running this deal!

Our stallion Fergus, with his son and apprentice, James.

After having been in the US for a month and watched how they keep their horses, being concerned in the way we are about the environment we keep them in and so on, does make me wonder if we maybe sometimes go a bit over the top. A horse property in the mid-west is any house with enough room in the garden for a small pen to keep horses in. It is a common sight to see several horses penned together in 30' to 40' corals. Feeding is bunging them cakes of hay twice a day. It is quite rare to actually see horses out in fields.

The whole attitude towards the horses is quite different here in the UK. In the US the working culture is still very present in the way the horses are looked after, even though nowadays there isn't so much real horsework being done. Get your horse, go do your work, put him back; and when the horse can no longer do the job, move him on. This really shows up in the horsemanship too. So there's a problem with your horse, well sort it out. Your horse won't stand still, well, don't go around the houses, don't have loads of theories, just tell the horse to stand still. One of the best things I heard said was when a horse just walked off with his rider, the rider just said, 'hey hey hey, who's running this deal'. He pulled the horse up and it was absolutely clear, absolutely no doubt what was wanted, the thought in the horse was changed, the timing was perfect, and the horse just got on with it. It was exactly what a kid would have done, or what happens in most yards, except in this case the timing and understanding from the rider was perfect and so the horse understood.

So when I got home and went around the stock, I was really conscious of all the things we do to make things as natural as we can for our horses. I was really questioning how important it all is. We keep our stallion with his herd, and we keep our herds mixed age. We are obsessed with grass and space, and to be honest all our horses are too fat. If we have to keep a horse on box rest it is a huge stressful event, but in the US that's just how it is for loads of horses. Quite a lot of horses are left penned up all day in the blazing sun, they go hours with nothing to eat. I heard one girl from the UK say 'My God, if I kept my horse like this she would go mad' - some of mine too, I thought.

So what am I saying - well as usual, nothing much. Just that I am fascinated by the different attitudes. If you watch the rodeo you can see that the attitude there is 'these animals are here for us to use'. In the UK it's swung around to 'these animals have rights, they are equal to us', or even 'oh horse, let me be your servant'. I am not making any judgements here OK, just writing.

Back to a Dartmoor Autumn

November sky on Dartmoor

I read a really good article about blogging this weekend taken from The New York Times. It was about these guys who have become famous through commenting on other peoples blogs. The theory is that no matter how good a writer you are, on your own blog you are probably writing for yourself and maybe two or three other people, whereas if you comment on a popular blog you get read by thousands.

There are so many good writers writing really good stuff on their blogs - I have a list of maybe a dozen or so recommendations on my blog and quite honestly they are pretty much all very readable, and easily as good as a lot of the stuff the columnists in the newspapers get away with. In the end it comes down to having the time to read it all - the times when my blog did best was when I was spending an hour or so a day reading all my blog friends blogs.


Oh shit, am I a blogger in crisis? It was easy when I was away because I was writing it for myself, but can I go on like that - does anyone really want to read about my aunts 53rd birthday party. I don't even want to write about it so I know you don't want to read it (apart from Vicus of course, who has always wanted to get across her).


Freddie in his Arizona waistcoat

Hang in there, tomorrow's post will include some exciting photos of our stallion with his apprentice, our ram with some of his ewes, and some pretty Dartmoor autumnal scenes.

Getting the news back to the homecountry.

So here we are on a RV site in Denver. Tomorrow we leave for England. It has been a fantastic holiday and to finish up I am going to put up a few photos of our best times. Apologies for no special pics for my sons, Paul and Jake. I did have one for you Paul but I bottled it cos someone was there. I may get another chance yet.

This is a pic of me filing my dispatches back to the homecountry




This second pic is for my daughter Kate. We took this one in Lyons just to show you it goes on all over.




This is us with Mark. I have to say for the record, I have never rode as well as I rode that friday afternoon. Wonder what my horses are gonna make of me when I get back.

This next picture was taken for my sons Henry and Josh. We were in Sedona, a sort of US version of Glastonbury, and I took the opportunity to record Sarah wearing the Argyle Tshirt commemorating the winning of the Division 3 play off final 1 - 0 against Darlington at Wembley in 1996.

This photo was taken by Sarah. There is an artistic side of Sarah that I don't know about- it's an amazing picture isn't it, and guess what I was thinking, 'huh, that'll never work'! It is a picture of the mud on a dried up river in Wickenberg.

A picture of Wickenberg - what a sweet little town. We liked it because it had a middle and a car park, kind of like English towns do.

These next two pictures are for my daughter Frances who has a cafe in Newquay, Cornwall. This is a kind of 'hippy' ish cafe we found in Wickenberg. As usual with us, once we have found somewhere we like we went every day for coffee while we were there.

This next cafe is in Taos. It was just lovely. Run by the sweetest people. Even smaller than your cafe F.



And here I am with Kelly - my SL partner for the last year. It was so good to meet her for real. I know I have already used a similar photo - it's the only one I have.



Here is a photo of us with Harry. I am so glad we got down to meet him - what a guy!

And to round off the show, the best photo I have taken on this entire tour - Sarah and Harry

The End

From Taos to Colorado City

To me this photo says so much about America. Something almost beautiful that has turned into an unsustainable nightmare. Something so romantic, that now only lives on in the American mind. Once there was such excitement as the huge spaces and opportunities opened up before the people. But the American Dream is over folks. You can feel and see the evidence of that dream but it has gone. Now the people are living in huge soul-less estates, or in trailer parks, or vast barren reservations. They are a million miles from their ancestors who must have felt so close to life as they fought to survive in this whole new world.
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We left our RV park early and had coffee in a little 'peace' cafe. Then we popped out and checked out a few gift shops - we've had it with gift shops. We just get overwhelmed by the endless bits of junk that make it all so meaningless. What's that saying - something along the lines of 'the more you have the less it is worth'. In the 60s Taos was a huge centre for the 'hippy scene', and there is still evidence in the form of old hippies round the place.

Sarah bought me a book about the Taos hippy commune scene in the 60s. The forward is written by Ed Sanders who used to be a hero of mine when he was in The Fugs. Pretty much since I arrived in the US I have been singing (out of tune of course) my favourite Fugs song, 'Belle of Avenue A'. It is about a 'Big Mack' truck driver who picks up a hippy chic only to get his mind blown when she reads in the cards that they are destined to fuck each other. So when I found the forward in the book I got very excited indeed - Ed Sanders is a cool dude, as were many of the people around at that time.

So here are two pics of Taos, famous for its Adobe buildings. The whole place is done in this stuff - it is really pretty special. I just love the care and the artistic approach that has gone into these buildings, and it's not just one or two, it's 100s - they are everywhere and getting Sarah to stop photographing them was quite a job.

We left Taos and headed out to the bridge over the Rio Grande. The Rio Grande is the third longest river in the USA, rising in the Rockies in Colorado and in its latter stages forming the border between the US and Mexico.
We arrive at the bridge just as a few old hippies set up their stalls selling touristy stuff - makes a change from Native Americans I guess - same old stuff though.
Neither of us had really thought this through, but as soon as we saw the bridge we both realised at the same time that we were in trouble - vertigo big time was on us before we even stepped out there. We got to the middle, God knows how, and I took a couple of 'poor' photos, from about a metre away from the rail, and we scooted back as fast as we could go. But then a truck came along and as soon as it hit the bridge it sent this huge shock wave that I swear rocked the whole thing like an electronic wave. Before we got back a couple more vehicles, including the obligatory 'Big Mack' stormed over, and to be honest all I could think about was that awful bit of film where that bridge goes into major vibration and collapses.
When we got back to 'safety' one of the old hippies assured me that the bridge is designed to withstand 6" of vibration - phew, that made me feel so much better I'm sure!
That's me on the bridge, and below that, is my 'poor' photo of the river. I'd say it was considerably deeper than Cliften suspension bridge, but I'm not sure - I didn't stay long enough to find out.
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And so on and on towards our goal. We drove along yet another scenic route through Cimarron Canyon state park. After lunch we dropped down into Cimarron and there I found the one thing I needed to complete my set - a great big scrap yard.


I told Sarah to pull over pronto and off I went to get the shots I needed. After I had taken a few pics this guy drove up and jumped out of his car. Uhoh, I thought as I gave him my friendliest greeting. I saw the smile come on his face and I knew I was on a good one.
'Nice collection of trucks you've got here' I said.
'Now if you're into trucks you'd better come down the yard and look at my best ones' he said.
So that's how we ended up in this shed taking this photo of his 1957 Big Mack truck, all restored down to the last detail - it was a beaut!

While I was in the yard I sneaked a couple more shots. Below is a 1947 Chevvy Rescue truck, still in use.

and a 1963 Big Mack awaiting restoration.

And then we drove on and there was this herd of bison. For God's sake will we ever get to Denver.

From Phoenix to Taos

For the last two days we have driven 600 miles across Arizona and into New Mexico. We have spent our time talking about horses, philosophy, life, USA, home, our business, being in the moment, the people we have met in the USA, horse trainers, knowledge, teachers, kindness, and other topics of equal worth. We have one CD that works - Beggars Banquet, which we enjoyed yesterday. We have a copy of the White Album that the CD player is telling us is faulty - Grrrrrr. We have one CD of Prem Rawat which we enjoyed listening to this afternoon.
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I promise that this is the last picture of me looking out at rock formations. I guess some of you from Devon are thinking why has he put this pic of Kingsteignton quarry up - well guess what, it's actually the Petrified Forest national park.
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And here is Sarah getting her kicks on the legendary East/West route across America.

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And here she is checking out an abandoned car on that very same route.

We stayed the night in Gallup - another of those unbelievably characterless US towns spread out for 4 miles along a road, with about two hundred 'Trading Posts' all offering varying discounts on all sorts of touristy goods. To be fair we never gave it a chance. We are suffering from tourist overload right now. I am pissed off about Gallup - there was a great picture and the camera batteries failed me. When I went back there was someone there and I lost my nerve - thought I might get beat up or arrested so I nonchalantly walked on by.

We set off this morning to cover miles. Stopped at mid-day and cracked open two cans of organic black bean soup for lunch. We've still got a bit of the 100% loaf we bought from Wholefood Market so out came the peanut butter and jam for pudding, mmmmmmmmmmmm.

Then we set off for Taos. Wow what a place, but first the journey.

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We have driven through some amazing country, amazing canyons, you name any rock formation and I guess we have probably seen it. But the road from Santa Fe to Taos was I reckon, the nicest so far. A beautiful full river in a narrow grey rock valley, with mellow yellow trees and grasses. It was so soothing after all the red.
I stopped to take a picture of this bridge. The whole valley is full of small settlements. It was colonised in the 60s by the hippies and the vibe is still there. Below is the house that this bridge accesses. It is a tiny two story wooden shack. Notice the garden - quite a rare sight so far on our travels.

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And here is Sarah in Taos. One of the most historic and beautiful places in the whole country.

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An American Weekend

The last few days have been full on American - it's been fun.

We left Harry's and drove to Kelly and Brian's. Kelly is the girl in charge of my avi's second life partner, Rosie. We met up face to face a week ago and kind of got to know each other a bit, but actually we knew each other quite well already - we have been partners in Secondlife for over a year. I don't know if I mentioned it before, but for some reason I assumed Kelly would weigh at least 20 stone - see a lot of secondlifers have these really hot avis to make up for themselves not being so hot in Real Life (not me, of course). In fact Kelly turned out to be one of the smallest Americans we have seen. Not only is she a normal size, she is a normal person (I get the feeling sometimes that that is unusual for second lifers). We, that is me and Sarah, and Kelly and her husband Brian, all had a great weekend.

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Me and Kelly - see, we're normal

So much happened this weekend, so I'll just cover the highlights for now - the in depth psychological stuff between me and K and our avis will be appearing shortly in the book I am currently writing about my year in Secondlife.

My favourite bit of the weekend was watching an American football game on telly from beginning to end - it lasted four hours. It took me about half an hour to suss the rules but once I got into it, it was really quite exciting. We all trooped round to Brian's son's house to watch the game and it was doubly good because their team, the Arizona Devils won.

Me and Brian watching the game

The previous night we had attended a full on American halloween party at the same house. This included me and Sarah both wearing fancy dress (no photos available as yet, but see artists impression below) and for me, consuming vast quantities of beer and jelly shots (some form of alcohol in lumps of jelly - really easy to eat but quite intoxicating).

I have got quite fond of the American people on this trip. They have made us very welcome and actually, even though their culture is obviously completely and ridiculously consumerist and totally unsustainable, I think the wealth and the vast spaces they live in does give them a bit of a feeling of lightness and freedom. We have mainly mixed with the wealthier middle classes and we haven't been near the cities, guess there we would see a different story. The party was unbelievable - about 100 guests all in over the top fancy dress, and the house was decorated beyond anything I have ever seen. There was an artist to do our portraits, a DJ, a free bar, stacks of food, and as far as I could tell, absolutely no dope at all (when I have a few drinks I always revert to my old ways and crave a smoke or two later in the evening).
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I spent quite a lot of time talking, or maybe listening to a 'nail technician', the most fast talking person I have ever heard. In the end I had to get her to practise her english accent to slow her down enough for me to understand her. We also had a nice chat with Brian's daughter Jenny and her husband Mathew. Mathew is a philosopher, or should I say that is what he qualified as, and he is in the process realising that there aren't so many vacancies for philosophers right now. Anyway what I am getting to is that the conversation gave Sarah the chance to throw in her only philosophical quote, 'life is nasty, brutish and short', correctly spotted by Mathew, as having been an observation of the seventeenth century philosopher Thomas Hobbs.

And yes, we also went to Walmart. And now I am going to tell you why we are coming home from America in three days time - cos I don't want my sweet wife to end up looking like this.....
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