Yet another “In Memory of” post… my trailer has died. It is now in the trailer graveyard at the repair shop.
Technically, I could perform CPR on it, and revive it. But the cost of doing so is the same as the price I initially paid for it… so I’m not feeling an overwhelming urge to bring it back to life.
Also, turns out I don’t have a lot of photos of my trailer. Basically that random one of it sinking into a mud pit (not sure why I made that??) and the one below.
The mighty beast was a 1980 2 horse shoop. It’s ancient in the world of horse trailers, but I did not care as long as it gets from point A to point B. Unfortunately, it can no longer manage that.
I brought it in for the normal safety inspection and to take a look at the lights, and they found some other things – the tires were dry rotting (ok, fine, that happens), and the floor was rotting (this is bad). Turns out that the shavings that I left in the trailer (that seemed completely dry to me!) kept in moisture and caused it to rot out. Whoopsies…
We had 5 long years together, simple trailer. You were one of the best purchases I have ever made. And now, thanks to your self destructing nature, I’m forced to figure out alternate transportation methods. Thanks a lot, trailer!
With the cost of repair so high, we are thinking we should just get a new trailer. This is not an expense I had counted on this year, and certainly not one I wanted to make, but I need a trailer to do all my horsing activities, so I’m not sure what else to do. We’ll start investigating and figuring out the best option. I’m not really in a rush.. I mean I did have a lesson scheduled for this weekend, but whatever, I guess I’m just going to have to cancel!
Sunday was a big day for cleaning out more woods. We cut down more trees, and disposed of the trees we cut down. D’Arcy had recruited some family members and we became a well oiled machine, cutting down, and dragging out to the fire her brother had built.
The fire was huge! It had been built by an eagle scout who knew his stuff. It was sweltering hot when close to it, but just stepping back from it by just a few few felt like stepping into AC…humid, warm Virginia AC.
It took 30 minutes for me to douse it after we will all finished…and it was so hot that dumping water on it caused a huge rock to shatter. I can honestly say I have never seen that before.
We pulled out a lot of brush though. It’s started to have hints of being a pasture!
I will have to get some updated photos of the lot. I always forget to carry my phone so these are all from a much more reliable source of photos.
We did have one instance of a tree falling the wrong direction and taking down part of my fence. Luckily just the top board of the three board, and luckily that oak board is so strong that it’s still completely in one piece, nails and all, just not attached anymore. I went to cut up the tree to get it off the fence, and at that moment realized how incredible tired I was. We had been out there for 6 hours, and we don’t do this on a regular basis. I didn’t have the energy to start up the chainsaw, so I decided that was the end for me. Side note: How has technology advanced so far and yet chainsaws still need a pull cord to get started!?
So, the tree will remain, unless I have recovered enough for more cutting. I’m pretty sore, so it might be a few days. But I’m very happy with our progress, and hopefully the rest will come down just as quickly and easily.
Now that I’ve picked the horse, I need to have room for it and D’Arcy’s foal. It’s finally time to clear our some more acreage on my farm. (Really, it was time ages ago, but this is good motivation to get moving.)
Dave ripped something in his arm, so he was unable to cut down trees. That meant it was up to us ladies to cut down the trees and make the pasture, which felt extremely daunting.
I’ve never chainsawed anything. Chainsaws are terrifying. So much can go wrong, and so quickly. They seem hard to use and there’s so much activity right in front of my face. But, it wasn’t going to happen if I didn’t man up and do it, and luckily D’Arcy was able to inspire some confidence in trying it, despite never doing it herself either.
We started them up, and hesitantly practiced on a random fence post. It turned out it was incredibly easy. It was kind of like jumping in a pool – just need to jump in and get the first step over with, and it’s easy to keep going.
Virginia has weird, horrible bush tree things that grow like a weed and have tons of branches coming out from the bottom. No idea what they are called, but they should be called Hell Bushes, because they are impossible to deal with. Another one of these bush/trees grew through my fence and knocked the whole thing out. So, on the first day, we knocked out two of these asshole plants.
The next day, Dave and I went out to tackle some actual trees. We took out some scrubby pine trees lining the fence (visible in above photo), and a 35 ft tree that was near the barn. It was a little bit terrifying to think the trees might come down on top of us, so it took some careful maneuvering and setting up of the cuts.
It seems that we followed all the correct stems, as we still exist, so hurray! I would have keep going but the chainsaw decided to turn off and not back on again. I lack the technical knowledge and mechanical whispering of why this keeps happening, but I’m sure with some YouTube videos I’ll sort it all out. It’s now raining here, but once it dries out a bit, it will be back to chainsawing! It’s surprisingly addictive!
Only downside is now I am now covered in poison ivy. Maybe next time I’ll try wearing a hazmat suit.
Guys. GUYS! I am so excited because I got new arena footing! This is the best day ever! I didn’t even have to pay for it! D’Arcy traveled to an exotic beach, and since she didn’t ask me what she should bring me back, I offered to her that she should bring back some sand for me… and she DID! Two varieties!
I put it in my arena so my horses could benefit from the wondrous beach sand.
This sand is going to change our lives. It will be amazing to ride on!
This last weekend was as action packed as any horse-obsessed person could want. It had all the excitement of a lesson, baby horses, moving hay, and a horse show! I need an extra day off to recover from this madness.
Today’s topics – Lesson and hay.
I was half-heartedly looking at new trainers. I say half-heartedly because I really like my trainer, both in personality, character, and overall horse knowledge. But, something just seemed off. I was looking for something next level. I was wondering if I was to throw my all into lessons and training, how fast could I improve? Having a good trainer is essential to improvement, and I want one that really pushes me and takes me to the next level.
I happened to see an ad for a trainer just outside of Middleburg, and I did some research. He had a student compete in the Upperville Internation Hunter Derby, and that is literally exactly the level I want to get to. I want to do hunter derbies, and handy hunter, and perhaps International Hunter Derby is a bit far-fetched and expensive to contemplate, but seriously, shoot for the maximum possible. TO THE EXTREME! Why just settle for, “eh, maybe something fun?” Why do I have a job, a farm, several horses, putting my blood sweat and tears into horses if I’m not shooting for the best I can be?
I jazzed myself up just writing that. Kind of makes me feel absurd for when I recap my TEENY TINY jumper show in a few days, but gotta start somewhere!
So, back to the trainer – He was offering a free day of lessons so people could try him out. That is one of the coolest things I’ve ever heard, and I was very interested. Risk free* trial!
*Did end up with physical ailment, but wouldn’t say that was anyone’s fault.
It was for trailer-ins only, but luckily that’s all I do anyway, so that was fine. I also figured, I have a pony, D’Arcy is a person, she can take a free lesson, too. So we both met there early Saturday morning, full of anticipation for our free lesson.
The farm is gorgeous! It has all the charm of the style of Middleburg farms, and it’s a huge plot of land, perfect for conditioning. They have a big outdoor, and a graded grass Grand Prix field. Unfortunately no indoor, but they do have an agreement to use someone else’s indoor, so that’s almost the same thing to me (actually, literally the same thing, trailering to one place is as easy as trailering to another.)
I pulled up to a nice easy turnaround for trailers (the little things are important to me!) and noticed a pretty little appaloosa in the barn. Everyone who appreciates the wonders of appaloosas is good in my book, so that was a definitely plus.
We met with the trainer, talked for a bit, and then headed up to the ring. He made us do lots of flatwork, and made me concentrate on getting Berry to use her hindquarters. Berry is built downhill so she doesn’t like to use herself naturally, it’s definitely a struggle. He used analogies that made sense to me (Your horse is like an accordion, and right now, she’s at full extension. You push the ends together more) and I found that this kind of visualization really works for me.
We did flatwork for half the lesson, which I appreciate. Flat work is the basis of everything, after all. Then, we began the jumping.
He emphasized pace and footfalls over counting strides. He told us not to count strides, and to instead feel the rhythm of the canter, and let the horse figure out the distance. No searching for distances for us! This suits me perfectly, because I have never counted strides, and just “ride out of hand” so to speak. And I don’t mean that in a classy, top end rider way, I mean that in a I’m too distacted and forget to count way. I have made half-hearted attempts to count my strides, but I guess in the end, I don’t really care enough. I guess I see a distance, and I know when to hold back and ask for another stride at this point, but I basically just go with the flow. So, this is quite interesting to me.
We did a few simple verticals, and then he had me jump one of the verticals from the opposite direction. This of course greatly upset Berry because there was a coop laying in the grass outside the ring, and she could see it from that angle. She refused the jump! I can’t remember the last time she refused. I was pretty shocked, but I turned around and did it again. Another refusal! He ended up dropping the top rail, which was fine with me, because I want a trainer that’s not afraid to take a step back and make sure everything is great at a lower level before raising it.
He added in a 2’9″ panel oxer. This would have been the biggest jump Berry and I have jumped. We’ve done 2’9″ verticals, but never an oxer, and never a panel, and it looked HUGE. So yeah, would have been. She refused that. She did it in a new way too… when she usually refuses, I can feel it before the jump. She gets squirrelly, and I know she’s not feeling confident. With this one, she made it all the way to the base, solid distance, and then realized she didn’t feel confident and slammed on the breaks. I guess my legs must be getting stronger because I didn’t come off, I just slid forward and took the entire impact in my chin.
This has never happened to me, and immediately aftward, I wondered why riders don’t have helmets that protect their chins. It hurt so bad, I thought I broke my jaw, and I was sure I got a concussion. I was in a daze for a few moments while I felt my jaw line, but the pain faded pretty quickly, and I didn’t want to look like a baby in front of two people, so it was time to go at it again. (My jaw now has moments where it hurts, and other times when it feels fine. I think it might have dislocated, but I pushed it around a bit and my teeth mostly line up now. It’ll probably be fine!)
Trainer dropped the back rail of the oxer, and I went at it again. One small thing I am proud of is that I have finally learned to not hold a grudge against things like this. I think a year or two ago I would have been scared to do the jump again. But now I’m either numb to it, or I’m managing to control my mind enough not to let it be an issue. I went at the now just a panel, and it was great. No issues, no hesitation at all. It really felt like a lovely jump.
The trainer kept adding more pieces until it ended up as a tiny course of jumps. I focused on my pace, and he noticed that I softened way too much right before the jump, and I need to stop doing that. I think it was really productive, and it felt like such a good ride.
Pony was a good boy as well. It seemed like he and D’Arcy were having a good ride, and she jumped him as well. Towards the end, he started getting tired, and he reverted to “little kid pony mode.” He was literally acting like a stubborn little pony deciding he’d had enough of his small child rider, and he could just ignore her. Unfortunately for him, D’Arcy is a full sized adult, so she spanked his behind. This made him quite indignant, which is something I haven’t seen before.
She was asking for him to go down the line one more time, and he was refusing to walk another step. She whapped him with the crop, and his little temper flared, and apparently decided the best thing to do was hand gallop down the line, flicking his tail in indignation the entire time.
Since he is just a pony, the effect was comical instead of intimidating. It was essentially what D’Arcy wanted, so perfectly fine. He was allowed to end after that, being a perfect little pony.
We cleaned up the horses, and with promises of another lesson once the two big shows in my area are over, we headed out.
We went to visit baby horses after that, but when we returned, I had 6 round bales in my front yard that needed to be moved to the barn.
The delivered hay had been dropped in my front yard due to the uneven hill that goes down to my barn. It just wouldn’t be safe for a giant flatbed to make it’s way down there. That meant we had to push the hay down the hill manually. It sounded way easier than it was.
First, we used the tractor to push the bales. This resulted in the binding of the bales ripping, and we ended up with a lovely snail trail all the way down the hills.
This happened with two of the bales. One exploded near the top of the hill, and the other exploded right by the barn. But to stay positive, four bales did survive the entire journey! Hurray!
It took an hour and a half to move these six bales, and all of us were sweaty and covered with hay, and scratches from hay. But at least… my horses have hay for the next six months…? Hurray….?….!
A while back, I had baby chicks born. They were adorable, fuzzy little black things. But now they have grown up. The ones Dave picked up from the store have been given to my neighbor, and the fuzzy little black ones were put outside. Unfortunately, one of them did wander away and disappear forever. Rest in peace little guy. But the rest of them are now thriving. Their fuzz fell out and was replaced by colorful feathers. Only one of them stayed black, but now she has stylish white trim on her wings.
It took a while for them to adjust. At first, they cried a lot and kept to themselves. When we’d come visit, they would run to us, and we would pick them up and give them a cuddle. But sadly, they are chickens, and we are not, and they must live with their own kind.
But then, in a shocking turn of events, one of the adult hens literally adopted these little babies. At first, we thought it was a weird fluke. We went out to close the coop at night, and one of the silkie hens had these half grown, half chicks, half adult chickens nesting under her wings.
When we began letting them into the yard more, it was obvious. They moved together as a little group, the hen and her three little babies. She called to them to stay close to her. They followed her obediently around the yard.
It is both one of the most adorable things I’ve ever seen, and also shocking. I had no idea hen would adopt little half grown adolescent chicks. I knew you could sneak in babies into their nest and they might adopt it, but she met these chickens when they were much older (8 weeks, maybe?). That seems pretty old to adopt babies – they are self-sufficient chickens at that point.
All I can imagine is that this little silkie hen heard these poor chicks crying for love, and she took them literally under her wing. Chickens have compassion for other chickens… who would have guessed?
As to why the chicks were still crying at such an old age…well… I guess I raised spoiled little millennial chicks kept in my house, who were cuddled every night and could do no wrong. I failed as a parent to give them the skills needed to succeed in the world. I’m sorry little chicks – at least there was some other parent out there to pick up the slack for me!
If anything could inspire me to have a breeding farm, it would definitely be going to a breeding farm. They are so incredibly cute, I want to be surrounded by foals all the time. I want to lay in the middle of the field and have lots of foals leaning up against me, like a foal pile.
When I was a teenager, my family raised sheep, and it was generally agreed upon by the sheep community that the primary reason to raise sheep is for lamb season. Watching them bounce around, call to their mother, stand on their mothers, play with each other, and just lounge around so cutely was the highlight of the sheep year. I imagine that is how some horse breeders feel, too. I mean, sure, the foals will become magnificent horses, but in the meantime, SQUEEE, look at the babies!!
I found this breeder a year ago. It was actually recommended on Chronicle of the Horse forums, and I checked it out, and thought, I’ll keep an eye on that one. I followed it on Facebook, and left it at that. As I researched more and more about what I wanted, this breeder just really caught my eye, and one day I realized that the farm is not too far from me. I truly do not know how I missed this detail, but for some reason, I thought they were out west somewhere. Once I realized I could easily visit in person, they became a viable option.
I made my way southward and found this landmark right near the farm.
The farm was huge! 150 acres and there were so many horses! I live in horse country, but I have never seen so many horses on one farm. It was the kind of place where they aren’t totally sure how many horses they have because there are so freaking many. But the farm was beautiful. All the horses were out on well-maintained grass, and it was clear they take very good care of all their horses. It truly is a great place for foals to grow up.
The first mare we saw was a thoroughbred mare named Berry. She definitely deserves a shout-out for having the same name as my horse, and also for being a thoroughbred. Both excellent qualities.
Berry’s baby was only about 3 days old. So tiny and cute! He was too young even to be out with the other mares and foals, so they were hanging out in the arena. After checking them out for a few minutes, they were relocated so we could see one of the big men on the farm, their stallion. (One of their stallions, I think they have four total).
He is in training at a dressage barn, but he’s back at home to bred to the mares that have already given birth. As soon as they brought him in, I was in awe. He is a very impressive guy!
He stood for us for a few minutes while we checked him out, and then he was released to strut his stuff. He determined that the immediate course of action was to sniff poop, so he did that for several minutes first.
I’m planning to edit the video I got of him, but for now, pictures will have to do.
After viewing him, it was time to look at the foals. It was a field full of foals. Sadly, my picture of them en mass came out really blurry, but there were 10 foals out there, looking so adorable.
The ones we looked at were all daughters of the stallion above. They were all so adorable, and their moms were lovely – I wish I could take them all home!
After viewing our favorite foals, they showed us some of the yearlings to get a sense of how the foals will develop. Keep in mind – these are yearlings, and yearlings are awkward. No one wants to be judged by their awkward adolescence!
They were such puppy dogs! They just love people! (which was actually true of every horse on this farm. I asked them about it, and they said they only keep/breed horses with personalities that they like.)
We moved on from the yearlings to the older mares’ field. It was a mix of 3 year olds and older mares, I assume to babysit and put those young whippersnappers in their place. Once again, super, super friendly.
We were introduced to the stallion’s full sister. It’s interesting how they are related, yet they look so different. As the breeder put it, same frame, but very different finish. (granted, not super easy to tell when in an uneven field and not square).
Our final stop was the field of mares who were giving birth soon. It was a field of adorably chubby mares. They got a bit excited when we showed up, and galloped as fast as their fat pregnant bodies could carry them.
That’s when I met my unicorn mare, and fell in love.
I do want to point out that while I was very impressed by this mare in person, I didn’t make the final decision until much later. I purposely didn’t want to rush into any choice. I went home and researched her and her lines before coming to my final decision.
I was really happy with my experience so far at this farm. The owners were very knowledgeable and informative and didn’t try to sway the decision one way or another. They answered everything we asked and admitted they weren’t sure for things they couldn’t remember (mainly relating to a specific horse’s lines…they told us they’d have to look them up to be sure, there’s a lot of horses to keep track of.) They were up front with how the registrations they could assist with, and which horses are only eligible for half registration. They spent three and a half hours with us, showing us horses.
Fingers crossed that everything goes according to plan!
It’s finally that time. I’ve had at least one request (really, probably just the one) over the years to present a tour of my property. I never did it before because there’s really not much to my property. The mystery of not knowing what it looks like is way more intriguing than what it actually looks like.
But now it is time. I will present to you my property, but only because I have some big plans for it, and I want to showcase those. So this is really more of a “before” post. Then there will be a “Plans” post. Then there will be a silence of several months. Then a “Why is life so hard” post. And then finally, a post where I give up and move on with my life. And then, out of no where, I will announce that I did complete my plans!
I can only hope that I move through these stages quickly, because I’d really like to put my plan in action.
Let’s get started!
My property is about 6 and a half acres. About 2 and a half acres are fenced for horses. My backyard, which technically is fenced for horses because I let them in there all the time and they don’t escape, is about another third of an acre. My front yard could be another third. Frankly, it’s wasted space and hopefully I will fence it in soon.
I decided my arena isn’t big enough, so I will be performing more carving eventually. Not sure when yet, but one day. This is lower on my priority list. It will also be fenced in completely.
My barn needs some cosmetic work. The horses have been tearing it up, vines have been growing on it, and it’s just a terrible color to began with. I’m thinking a nice barn red with white trim would suit it much better.
This past weekend I spent a lot of time mowing down some of the uncleared area behind the barn. We have another two acres or so that are completely woods. It’s a waste of good pasture!
I think it’s kind of difficult to tell what was cleared in pictures, especially when there’s nothing in frame to add context. I’m going to try though! :
Using the first photo as a reference, these two are looking from the paddock behind the barn towards the right side.
Here is the barn from the back. You can see it’s never been painted and looks pretty dingy.
This is facing the opposite direction from above, but standing by the window in the barn, seen above.
Front the previous photo, if you were to walk straight ahead towards the woods, you’d go down a small hill, and to your right, you’d see a path I cleared through the woods.
At this point, all the additional photos I have look pretty similar to the ones above, so I don’t think I need to share them. But you can see that my main enemy is the tall scrubby tree. They are pretty tough, I managed to destroy both of my turn signal lights by bashing into them.
I did knock down one with my tractor. It made me feel powerful. You may be a tree, but I have a piece of equipment to destroy you. (This was after the trees had proved they had the strength to take out my lights.)
It will be a battle of wills. I will keep at it until I have more pasture. I’m not at all comfortable using a chainsaw, but if it must be done, it must be done. A lot of this can be taken out with my tractor and bush hog though. I’ve taken out many small trees, lots of bushes, and all the weeds.
I have already thrown down some grass seed, so it’s going to look more pasture-like as time goes on. There is a steep hill though, so I’m not sure exactly how much I can clear without sliding down the hill. It might not be worth it. But, we shall see. The battle will rage!
I don’t believe in ghosts. I feel like that’s an important point on this entire ghost story. Sure, Paranormal Activity had me jumping at every noise in the night, but that wore off. If I watched it now, I bet I’d have no reaction to it. Especially now that they’ve made those god-awful sequels. If it had been a single movie, then yeah, maybe I would have figured it could possibly happen. But now I know it’s a cash grab, so thanks a lot, movie producer, you’ve made me immune to “ghost activity”.
Sure, there was a moment when I first moved into my house and figured out that a dying person had lived here, and possibly died here. What if he stayed and haunted the house!? That thought lasted about two weeks, and then I removed the handicapped features of the house, so I wouldn’t have to be reminded. And also, I figured I’ll never need such things, because clearly I will be a fit, healthy person for the rest of my life until I suddenly drop dead for no apparent reason when I’m 90 years old.
I’m not even scared of things that go bump in the night. I go out to my barn in the dark every morning, and during the winter months, in the dark every evening. In the beginning, I carried a gun, because HOLY CRAP, WHAT MIGHT HAPPEN. Then I carried a wooden rod because that could probably fend off something. Then I dropped down to nothing but a lantern, and on nights I smell skunk, I shriek like a banshee to scare it off so I don’t get sprayed. It’s also a good excuse to shriek, because how often is that accepted in everyday life? Certainly not in my everyday life.
The point of all this is that I don’t believe in ghosts, or vampires, or zombies, or gargoyles. I do believe in bears because I saw a bear here once, but that was in the daylight, so it’s probably okay. Although I do remember that story of the guy who had a personal zoo of big cats, and one day he let all the big cats out, so I guess that could happen. But, I am not aware of anyone with a personal zoo, so it’s probably okay…. at least I hope it is.
Going back to the point, trainer Sarah has been telling me ghost stories about her barn for as long as I’ve known her.
Factual things she’s told me:
There was a confederate campsite on her property. The property has been metal detected to death, and lots of buttons, coins and random artifacts have been found.
There was an old house on the property, but it was falling apart, so it was torn down many years ago.
Ghostly things she’s told me:
There’s a confederate soldier who hangs out at one end of her barn and scares the horses. One time, late at night, she was cleaning a stall, and he appeared leaning against the stall wall. She swears he was as clear as day, as clear as I was, which at the time, I happened to be standing right in front of her. She said she yelled at him to stop spooking her horses and go away, and he vanished.
She and her brother have had ghost hunts before. Her brother has some kind of visual dectecting device, and it saw a thrashing figure in her arena, right in an area where the horses spook a lot.
She has had very vivid dreams of being at a confederate camp, and having to run away to hide in the woods.
She woke up suddenly in the middle of the night to find a native american head in front of her. She reached out her hand to touch it, and it vanished.
There’s a vortex where the old house used to be. I’m not sure how she came to this conclusion.
She and her boarders all have sightings of ghosts. She said that she hasn’t even said anything to her boarders, and they will come to her and tell her about ghostly sightings. There’s at least three distinct ghosts that haunt the barn.
On the evening of Saturday’s horse show, Sarah had invited ghost hunters to her barn. D’Arcy and I were politely invited, so naturally we took Sarah up on this. It’s time to hunt some ghosts!!!
Having never been to a ghost hunt, I was not sure what to expect. It started with me being told to shut my yapper, because I was being too loud and they couldn’t hear the ghosts. Fair enough.
They set up three cameras to watch the aisles. We walked around with one man who had some kind of device that reads different radio waves. I really have no idea how it works, but supposedly it’s supposed to facilitate ghost communication.
As we walked around, it was apparent the ghosts weren’t in a talkative mode. I think they were asking the wrong questions though. If you’re a ghost, and you’re hanging out in a barn, do you want to relive the way you died over and over again? I mean, why is that the only thing people are interested in? Maybe the ghost wants to discuss other things, like how their Saturday went, or if they’re following any sports teams.
We weren’t having much luck getting the ghosts to talk, and eventually, we made our way to the confederate soldier side of the barn. (Sarah has a seriously huge barn, it’s like 36 stalls or something crazy). They were asking the ghost about what his secret was. D’Arcy and I went with another line of questioning.
“So, do you like the horses?”
And then, IT RESPONDED. OMG, the voice thing said, “I do.”
We all exchanged a glance. Like, whaaaaaaaaat.
Unfortunately, there were no other responses. So we still don’t know why the soldier likes to spook the horses. Maybe it’s on accident?
We continued onward. They had another device that somehow deciphered words from thin air, and then it would say the words. So, when the ghost was talkative (maybe) the device would random spout words. It named Sarah’s brother, by name. Maybe it’s a coincidence? It told us to go outside by a tree. We all went. The tree was super creepy looking like definitely a tree people would get hanged on. But, logically, the tree probably wasn’t that big 150 years ago, it wouldn’t have been strong enough to hang people. It would have been just a tree back then.
We were all standing around like idiots by this tree, and Sarah wandered into the adjacent field with one of the devices because that’s where the old house/vortex had been. D’Arcy acquired a cat out somewhere and was holding it and loving on it. The cat was appreciating the attention, when it suddenly went on alert, staring at the ground, following the movement of something up the tree, watching something in the tree, and then following something back down the tree. Ghost? Or stupid cat? I guess we will never know. Although being out in the dark by a creepy looking tree definitely made it feel like a ghost.
After standing by the tree for way too long, we headed back to the barn. That’s when we were intercepted by the other half of the ghost hunting team, which consisted of “official” ghosthunters, and also, one of Sarah’s working students.
They breathlessly explained how they have been watching the cameras in one of the breezeways when they suddenly heard footsteps in the loft above. It wasn’t just one person’s footsteps, it was multiple, and they heard a chain rattling, as though it was worn around the ankles.
I wouldn’t have believed just the ghost hunters because they seek these kinds of things, but the student, who previously had been very skeptical, was adamant that she had heard it, too. Naturally, this made everyone want to go to into the loft. But, naturally, since there you had to climb a ladder to get to the loft, the number of people who actually went up dropped down to just three: Sarah, D’Arcy, and random ghost hunter man.
I determined that the best use of my time would be setting up a chair in the breezeway, watching the camera, and listening for ghosts. Naturally, perhaps due to my non-belief, absolutely nothing happened. But, I did get to hear the activity in the loft as they tried to get the ghosts to communicate with them.
The ghost hunter asked the ghost to talk to them. He asked them to touch them. At one point, there were loud gunshots, which startled everyone. But it turned out he had just bumped the device. As far as I can tell, the ghost did not indicate its presence.
After a while, they came back down. The next place to check out was the arena, where the thrashing stick figure had been. We went out with them, but at this point, it was getting really, really cold. We only had sweaters on, and it was dropping down to 45 degrees. It was very uncomfortable, so we went back up to the barn, which had a very warm tack room.
After hanging out with completely normal german shepherds, who are only looking for love, Sarah eventually returned and told us we had to come back down to witness t he activity. She was really excited, so we agreed.
The official ghost hunters had disappeared to get more equipment, so Sarah just took us down with a device that would light up for activity. Its default was green, and it would light up through yellow, orange, and red, which somehow indicated a ghost’s presence.
We stood by the entrance to the arena, and asked questions to the open air.
“Are you a woman?”
“Are you a man?”
“Are you a pirate?”
It lit up all the way to red.
“How can you be a pirate so far inland?
“Do you like pirates?”
It lit up to red.
“Are you being funny?”
It lit up to red.
“Can you stop spooking the horses?”
We asked a few more questions, and everytime pirates came up, it was a red. Our line of questioning determined that it was a little boy who likes pirates. We went back to the barn, and Sarah said that he could not come in the barn, so it did not follow us.
Back in the barn, she told everyone what had happened. When she started talking about pirates again, the device lit up to orange. Apparently the ghosts in the barn like pirates, too.
We headed out at that point. That was enough ghost hunting for one night.
Everyone agreed that the ghosts were being very quiet that night, but still – I have absolutely no belief in ghosts. I don’t know what those devices were picking up, but I can only assume they are programmed to pick up random things to make it seem like there are ghosts.
Although – have you had ghostly experiences? Perhaps your barn is haunted? Let’s discuss!
In the span of a week, my flock of chickens has doubled.
It started one warm afternoon when I walked up to my chicken coop. I peeked in to take a look, and I heard little cheeps. My first thought was, that better not be what I think it is. I crawled into the coop, and found a little nesting hen. I lifted her up, and two little chicks tumbled out.
My first reaction was annoyance. I don’t want more chickens. I’m content with the few that I have. But, I brought them inside, set up the brooder, and placed them in it. The next day, two more chicks hatched. They grew on me pretty fast.
A week later, Dave was at Tractor Supply. He’s checking out the chicks are selling, and he sees some standard chicks with bloody backs that are apparently being abused by the bantam chicks that are in with them. Dave brings it to the attention of employees, and is told that they can’t sell the damaged chicks, so they will be sent back to be destroyed…unless Dave buys them. Dave informs them he is not interested in purchasing the chicks. They ask if he will just take them free. He agrees, and now we have 5 more chicks.
And also…I agreed to go in on a chick order with my neighbor. I have four more chicks arriving in June.