Spring quirks

Spring has sprung, here in North Texas.  The days are longer, the flowers are blooming, and the bugs are zooming.  Speaking of flowers, it’s our first spring in the new house.  Turns out that the green shrub at the end of our driveway is Spanish lavender and has sprouted these nubby purple flowers that I’ve resisted plucking.  Our rose bushes in the backyard, which I drastically pruned back last fall, have exploded overnight.  There are so many flowers that the branches are sagging from the weight.  Bowie’s tackling the spring changes with great aplomb.  As he runs by the rose bushes, he rips the petals off the branches and spits them on the ground.  I yell at him - of course - and then break down into laughter every time.  Where did he learn that behavior from?

Rose Destroyer, caught in the act

I found a patch of blue bonnets on our weekend walk and made Bowie take the obligatory Texan photo with them.  He’s used to mom making his stop and pose for pictures, probably about the only thing he’ll stop long enough for.

This month, Mae turned seven and has sprouted dapples on her neck and belly!  This mare has never had dapples before and I’m thrilled to see them.  Those round circles of delight emerged slowly after she finally stopped shedding her winter coat.  It’s only a matter of time before her dark bay coat gets sunbleached into a brassy brown colour (talk about an ombre hair style) and they fade away but I’m relishing the sight of them for now.

Dappled up birthday girl

This past weekend, we rode out to field after a nice lazy hack in the outdoor arena.  My friend K and her gelding were out grazing, so I let Mae take a break for snack time as well.  Her security blanket out in the “wild” is other horses, so we stood there and chatted for fifteen minutes before I felt her rapidly sinking beneath me.  I quickly kicked off my stirrups and dismounted, as she wasn’t stopping and was soon laying on her side.  It all happened so quickly - me jumping off, still holding onto the reins, and also trying to stay out of the way of her flailing hooves.  In the background, K was wailing continuously “Your saddle, oh no your saddle!” 

Mae had decided that all the fresh green grass looked comfortable to roll in and certainly tried to roll while I was still on her back.  Luckily she didn’t roll all the way over (and crush the tree in my saddle), but she did roll enough to where my stirrups scratched up the side of my saddle.  At least my leg wasn’t trapped underneath her and I wasn’t crushed or kicked?  And of course, horsey friends would be more concerned about the welfare of your tack than your bodily-harm.  Priorities folks.

Avoiding being crushed, reconfirming my allergy to grass, and sneezing are my seasonal delights so far.  But hey, at least I'm getting some good pictures out of it all.