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.
Above is the closest I’ve been to riding a horse recently. And that’s not even me playing it! That’s Dave playing an online horse jumping game. He would miss the jumps, but magically, the jumps would become transparent for him to just canter through. This was only a safeguard to avoid injury though, the rider was still very disappointed in Dave’s performance.
I wish I could work on my real life spacebar skills. I haven’t ridden since my guest lesson, and I am feeling an itch that a powder won’t fix. It’s been unseasonably warm, but it’s been very wet. So wet, I would not be able to get my tractor to my arena to drag it. I can’t even remember the last time it was dragged.
Now, keep in mind I can still only do this on the weekends. Most of my week looks like this:
My opportunities for riding during the week are slim to none. Occasionally, we have a holiday. But then it’s cold and it rains, or snows. It’s been a mostly mild January, but usually it’s mild during the week – those times when I need to be at work. I like my job and my company, so I’m not complaining about that aspect. I just need some telework, or it needs to get sunny again, and stay sunny until like 7pm.
Recently, we had a company event, and due to the hours, I decided to stay in the city. I stayed with my friend and got a reminder of apartment living. I can see why people would live in a stacked column of housing, especially when work is mere minutes away, as well as an entire mall an elevator ride away. Although we are a bit older than the last time I was living in an apartment, so we weren’t exactly snacking on ramen.
I also did some fine arts and crafts. Who knew I was so talented at the pipe cleaners?
I’m basically waiting for to get more free time. Eventually, I’ll be able to ride during the week again… I’ll start taking a lesson every week again… and keep advancing. It’s just another period of life where I have to accept that not riding now will benefit me in the future, career-wise. The waiting isn’t so fun though.
I’m brainstorming some ideas to get Berry working again while I’m at work, none of which sound appealing, financially. But, it could end up extremely beneficial to send Berry to a trainer for a few months until I get more time.
Or I could install some arena lights. I kind of like that idea. What I don’t like is the thought of doing anything on my mud slick of a pasture.
On the positive side, since I’ve been stuck inside on the weekends, I decided to seriously tackle redecorating my house. Before and after pictures to come!
Good job to all of you that make the riding/work/life balance work. One day, I will be among you.
One of the most exciting things that could happen, happened at my little farm. I got a delivery of stone dust.
Stone dust means possibilities. It meant I could finally fill in the lost footing in my arena. It means I can level out the horse stalls, level my driveway, and fill in the area around the barn. Also, it’s just so beautiful – all powdery, like newly fallen snow. Except if you try to play in it, you discover it’s actually coarse, hard and will tear up your skin. Just like the graceful, but aggressive swan, it is best admired from on top of a tractor.
It took some rain to loosen up the old stone dust, but afterward, it became my zen garden again.
Although, I didn’t add any stone dust until I had fixed the drains. I rerouted the drain, starting on the hill above the arena, and continuing all the way around. So far, the drains are working out perfectly. My neighbor even noticed, as she asked me why her field was suddenly getting new rain paths. Success!
For the longest time, I had thought my tractor mower was broken because it would not engage. I hadn’t mowed since last fall, and everything was starting to look messy. But, I got the tractor guy out and it turned out that I just didn’t have the right gear engaged. Whoops. He didn’t charge me, as he understands these things happen. After all, he fixed my tractor for me before by putting it in gear. Yes, this happened more than once. Hopefully, I’ve learned my lesson this time.
With my mower working, I was able to get some serious mowing done. Behind my pasture, I have another acre or so of overgrown messy plants, just begging to be cleared out and fenced in. I aggressively took the bushhog to it, mowing down entire trees while laughing hysterically at the power I yield. We like to have fun around here.
Considering it looked like a jungle before, I’m feeling pretty good about this. Now I just need to figure out how to get to the other side of the jungle to mow.
A lot of bunnies live in this area. More bunnies than I have ever seen around the property. We are theorizing that the foxes are so full of chicken, they don’t need to chase down bunnies. But the abundance of bunnies has triggered Dave.
He is trying to catch a wild bunny. He decided he really wants a bunny as a pet, but he doesn’t want a pet store rabbit. He wants those beautiful wild rabbits. I’ve tried to talk him out of this. I even said he could get a pet rabbit, which I thought was pretty generous of me. But he insist upon a wild one, claiming he will tame it. This seems like a disaster waiting to happen. I’m sure my next update on this will be from the hospital.
On a sadder note, I’m finally down to my last bale of hay.
Its lasted a long time, but I am looking forward to a new supplier, hopefully one that doesn’t include splinters in their hay. I’m getting just a little bit sick of pulling off hay, only to feel little stabs in my hands.
And on a final note, not really related to the farm, my computer is still not working. Dave “fixed it” and then it blue screened. Such is life.
I thought my chicken keeping experience couldn’t get any worse after my beloved Fluffers died. But, it turns out that chickens continue to be expendable, and a few weeks ago, some predator came in and killed over half my flock. Killed, and then left their bodies scattered around my property, and my neighbor’s property. So many of the chickens that I loved, and doted on are gone.
There was one survivor that was under attack, Smog, our big white cochin. I guess I came out at the right time, and stopped the attack in progress. Even though she had only lost feathers on the outside, there must have been internal damage, and a few days later, she to succumbed to her injuries.
We were left with five hens, the fewest we’ve had since we started keeping chickens. It was eerily quiet with no rooster crowing. We were paranoid about losing our remaining hens, so they weren’t allowed out of the run anymore. Sometimes, they stayed locked in the coop with their food and water. Since there were so few of them now, being locked in the giant mansion of a coop was no hardship, and sometimes they just stayed in there even when door to the run was open.
There seems to be a common quality over half the survivors had. They are all little bantam chickens with the ability to fly. Y’grette had run over to my neighbor’s house when the attack happened (I got a call from her), and when we came out, she heard me and decided it was safe again and came back to my property. We thought we had lost Twank, but she showed up at dusk to go back in the coop. I have no idea where she hid for several hours.
Mini Dora showed up immediately as I was bringing Smog back to the coop. She must have have just flown up in a tree. She’s the best flier of the bunch.
The other two survivors, big, hefty full sized hens, survived because they had decided their life’s ambition was to hatch some eggs. While the slaughter went out outside, mere feet away, the predator did not go into the coop to get these two, and these two were either blissfully unaware, or just way too intent on hatching some eggs.
But, wait a moment – What’s the little poof of cream next to Salmon?
We decided to let them keep the eggs they had been sitting on. Normally, we take them away immediately, and do not have any chicks hatch, but we were feeling very strongly that we loved our flock so much, this was the only way for all our little pets to live on. So we let them keep the eggs, in the hopes of getting the children of our lost flock.
So far, we have three chicks. This silkie cross is the oldest, born about two days ago, and is the most out going and seems to constantly be getting into things. There’s also a little chipmunk looking one, born about a day ago who I only spot occasionally, and then there was another one hatched this morning, who I only saw because I lifted Buffalo G. for a moment. It was all damp and shriveled looking, so I decided it was best not to interfere. The hens get upset when they are messed with, and I’d rather them just concentrate on those babies, and not how to get me away from the nest.
Hopefully everyone will survive, and we’ll be able to replenish our flock a bit! Although it’s a bit sad since they will always be locked up now. Part of the fun of having them was having them wander around in the yard, and come up to visit the house. But, they are better alive, so maybe I’ll make a playground for them in their run so they have some amusement.
Takora Farm is a private facility, with two barns, the one above, and another stone one, but bigger with a center stall block with the aisles on the outside, and a huge apartment above it. The owners ride and train their own field and show hunters, but there are two trainers based out of there.
Heather Wright LoCascio owns Longwood Rehabilitation and Stables, a full service rehabilitation and boarding facility. She has successfully rehabilitated horses with suspensory tears, fractures, severe wounds, and eye issues. She’s also a super nice lady, and Dave and I (mainly social butterfly Dave) spent a while talking to her. Unfortunately, this was during the demonstration ride, so perhaps not the best timing. There was a brief, hilarious, “Heather, come here for a minute,” and then she never returned to us. Womp womp.
The other trainer is Tiffany Catledge, who runs as Allforit Farm. She specializes in starting young sport horses for multiple disciplines. I knew of her as an eventing trainer, but for the demonstration ride, she brought out two thoroughbreds who are going to Upperville in a few weeks for some hunter classes. They were so amazing gorgeous, I think anyone who saw them would forever want a thoroughbred.
The Middleburg Agricultural Research and Extension (MARE) Center was established in 1949, covers 420 acres, and is home to Virginia Tech’s internationally regarded equine research and education programs.
Back in the stone ages when I was a teenager, the MARE center had a breeding program with about 40 foals a year, and every year they would auction off all the babies. All the babies had a VT branded on their necks so they would always be recognizable. I knew a lady who had one of these horses, and one time I attended the auction to check it out. At the time, they were all thoroughbred babies, and they sold for thousands, which seemed crazy to me as a teenager. Auctions are supposed to be cheap!
I watched them for a few years, and their breeding changing to warmblood breeding, reflecting the current breeding trends. So when we visited, I was expecting lots of foals around. Not the case – they do not do that anymore.
They are now nutrition based research, although they have a few babies a year, so the students get experience caring for pregnant mares and foals. I was a little disappointed not to be in foal heaven, but that’s okay, nutrition research is very important.
They are selling off last years foals, now yearlings. Two colts and a filly, private sale, information available to interested parties.
Unrelated to the horses, they had an orphaned lamb, rejected by her mother at birth, raised by some teenage boys. The little lamb loves men.
Now Dave wants a lamb.
The original property is basically exactly what Virginia horse country is about. Look up Virginia Horse Country, and this is the definition.
What was actually part of the tour, was this enormous barn and indoor.
This was by far my favorite stop. This barn is so gorgeous!! I can’t get over how beautiful it is.
Sloane Cole bases her business, Spring Ledge LLC, here. She competes in major Grand Prix competitions all over the U.S., and trains horses and students for hunter, jumper, and equitation ring.
Salamander Resort and Spa
The tour focused on the Equestrian Center at Salamander Resort and Spa. The facilities include a 22 stall barn, a huge outdoor, and miles of trails. When we showed up, they were having a polo demonstration.
Turns out, polo is really fun to watch. It could have just been because this was a demo, and the players knew the commentator, but there was lots of funny banter back and forth as both teams raced up and down the arena.
My camera ran out of batteries at this point, so I was reduced to using my phone.
Everything about this barn is huge. The stalls are huge, the aisles are huge. They also had a huge carriage, just to have more huge things I’m sure.
Also, a huge horse.
We walked up towards the main building, but it seemed much too fancy for us, and we turned back around.
We ran out of time to see anymore of the farms. This tour really requires a full day to do. Next year, we will plan to start first thing in the morning!
This past weekend, the 57th Annual Hunt Country Stable Tour was held by Trinity Episcopal Church. It’s a self guided tour all around Middleburg and Upperville in Virginia of some pretty amazing barns. So if you’re looking to be jealous of fancy, scenic barns, this is exactly what you need. So here they are, in the order in which we viewed them – Prepare yourself for the jelly you will be emitting.
Salem Oaks Farm
We started with Salem Oaks, a breathtaking property just a few miles from me, although my farm is literally on the other side of the railroad tracks. I told Dave this is what we should live in. Gorgeous barn, with enormous apartment (or full house!) on top. It was incredible. Also, Dave didn’t seem opposed to the idea, so I think I know what our next house will be!
This farm is unique to the area because they practice both English and Western here. The daughter competes in hunters, and the parents raise Quarter horses.
Next on our route was the Country Fair, held at the Trinity Episcopal Church itself. First off, this church is gorgeous. I love looking at unique buildings, the older, the better. This one had a main building and several smaller buildings. It also had a courtyard, and I love courtyards. One day, I will have my own courtyard.
One of the vendors was Old Buttermould Pattern Products, from Pennsylvania. Using old molds, they create these sand pictures. I will admit to only half paying attention when she explained it, but Dave really liked them, and we got a hen.
The description included says:
“Hen” A Sandcast old butter mold pattern collectible! This is a really nice pattern. Patterns like this are not as common for the collector to find. Therefore, we are happy to have this little pattern to pass on. This came from a big collection of butter molds and butter prints from Michigan. All the coloring in our work is dyed sand! We never use paint! This pattern took one month to complete! We hope you will appreciate our part in preserving a small portion of history.
There were a bunch more vendors, including hats, bronze statues (way out of our budget!), wood making, and a consignment tack store. Also, neat signs.
Trappe Hill Farm
Trappe Hill Farm offers horse swimming, right off the dock in the picture. I would like to do horse swimming, preferably while on the horse, so I think I would be a great fit here, hopefully they will invite me back.
They also breed and raise thoroughbreds for racing and sale, and have a few retired horses.
The barn was so amazing cool on a hot day, I was very impressed. It’s exactly the kind of barn we all need to have. Also, they had a courtyard with a stone mounting block.
I met the manager’s endurance horses, who were all gorgeous, and looked amazing for their ages (approximately low 20’s). They all traveled everywhere to compete in Endurance, and one of them actually went to the Pan American Games!
Unfortunately, at that point we ran out of time to get to the other farms. They would have to wait until the following day.
Other than just seeing these beautiful farms, I’m really impressed with how welcoming the owners are. They are certainly under no obligation to allow strangers to tour their properties, but they opened their doors, and they are present to talk to the people who stop by, even offering (like above) for me to go into the stall and say hello.