Me and Chroi

One of the benefits of going to art school is that you get to meet a lot of great artists. My friend and photographer Lacey graciously agreed to take some photos of me and Chroicoragh before she heads off to her new home. I’m going to miss her terribly and needed a nice keepsake. I’m not too into getting my picture taken lately but wanted a nice memory to keep. Lacey does sunning work with families and couples and has a way of capturing the light that makes her photos glow. Please visit her website here, and her instagram account here. Thank you so much, Lacey!

Follow Chroicoragh at her new home here. She has 2 little girls to raise and a mama to keep sane. Her Unicorn magic will continue on :)

You can also see all of her picture posts form the past few years by clicking here.

(images ©Lacey Youngs. Not to be used without permission)



Gypsy Horse for Sale

I am now offering Chroicoragh for sale. SOLD. Visit her at her new home here.


Please see her page for info and pictures.

There are also a bunch of images of her on Instagram.

I’m thankful to have had a wonderful, magical horse like Chroicoragh, and will cherish every memory. I have finished my degree, and since I will be working full time along with some other changes, I have decided to let someone else enjoy the privilege of having a unicorn in their own back yard!

She is registered, healthy, sound, and open if you wish to breed her. She is an excellent broodmare and broke to ride.

There are up to date pictures and video on her Facebook page.

Chroicoragh is being offered for $12,000 to a good home. Sale pending.

Please contact me if you are interested, using the form below (this cuts back on spam email – your information will not be shared). Serious inquiries only.

Thank you so much for being part of this journey with me.

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Lennon & Maisy sing “That’s What’s Up,” OR: Why I Can’t Get This Song Out of My Head

I usually speed right past this kind of stuff on Facebook, but when my sister-in-law posted this video I clicked on it for 2 reasons:

1. She dedicated her post to my brother, John, along with her friends and family.

FB CM edited

2. I knew that if she liked it, I would like it, too. And it wouldn’t be some corny piece of crap.

I can’t imagine ever being this crazy talented, especially as a kid. But these two sisters sing so beautifully, and so well together, that this song is an instant Happy-Place earworm, as Linda Holmes likes to say. The song, “That’s What’s Up,” is originally by a band called Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros. Where the original reminds me of a tinny ode to School House Rock,  the girls’ version has a much more pure, sweet vocal melody and an engaging, natural performance.

Why can’t I get this song out of my head? Just listen; you’ll see what I mean:

Watching these girls, it reminds me of my Goddaughter and her sister – you can tell the girls love each other. It’s clear that Lennon & Maisy have been singing together since they were little (which you can see in their youtube videos). Their joy is evident.

And it scares the hell out of me.

Because they ARE so talented, I dread some skeevy “talent manager” getting a hold of them, and before you know it,  we see Lennon and Maisy wearing too much hair & makeup and stylist-induced designer outfits on The Today Show, like some E! network wannabes. And they get all stupid and slutty and spoiled.

PLEASE DON’T LET THAT HAPPEN! Please, parents of Lennon and Maisy, you seem like good people, you seem to be doing a great job raising these kids so far. I have to say, I have never heard of these two before they landed in my Facebook feed. (The duo are regulars on the series “Nashville,” and have made several television appearances.) So far, they are already off to a good start :) keep up the good work.

Don’t sell them out, don’t let them loose in the Hollywood machine. Care for them, raise them, make them do their homework, make them work shitty jobs to pay for their new car, make them respect themselves and their bodies, and don’t let them turn into slutty little brats.

miley cyrus before and after

Just let them grow up to be themselves.

If you’re still on the fence as to whether you like them or not, this song will definitely sell you.


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Thanks for stopping by (San Diego),


Love Is…

Love Is…
Finding your soulmate
your first dog
Sharing Chocolate cake
Spending your honeymoon camping
We couldn’t afford a big trip
But we didn’t care

…Finding out that it wasn’t really an “all-day flu”
Taking your kids on adventures
Birthday cake frosting
Playing in the snow
Elk hunting at Thanksgiving, and
flirting with your guide ; )
Finally getting that honeymoon,
and bringing the kids
Having a fight,
and getting over it
Good times
First cars
Sleeping in the shade
Love is…
going to Costco in your jammies with your husband
because while he wants to surprise you with flowers,
He also wants you to hang out with him.
And who wants to go to Costco alone?
So you pretend to browse through the books
while your he picks out your Valentine’s bouquet.
Love is…
Almost 20 years of memories.
Happy Valentine’s Day.

Colicky Babies and Rookie Mistakes

Some girls, when you ask them what they want to be when they grow up will say things like: “A Teacher. A Doctor. A Fashion Designer.”

Some girls actually loved the dolls they got for Christmas, and knew that when you played house, the proper thing to do was to carry the “baby” around on your shoulder and pat it on the back while you cooked the pretend dinner for your pretend husband. When prompted with their career of choice, these girls would say, “I want to be a Mommy.”

I never got those girls. My dolls usually had the one lazy eye and a leg missing, due to being swung around by the foot.

Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful

My answer was always “MOVIE STAR,” which I thought would be obvious to anyone — why would you want to be anything else, much less — a Mommy? Never mind the fact that in reality, becoming a Mommy is much easier to achieve. (Oh, but that’s a whole ‘nother talk for a whole ‘nother day, now isn’t it?)

So, when I did get married and yes, become a Mommy much earlier than the rest of my friends, most of them and my family were pretty surprised, but no more so than I. (It’s all my husband’s fault. He had to be so damned cute and adorable and make me fall in love with him before I got a chance to fill out my employment application for MOVIE STAR. It’s a good thing, too, because with me around for competition, Julia Roberts and Jennifer Aniston would have nothing to do all day besides vacuuming and laundry. Those grimalkins** owe me a Thank-You.)

Anywho, when my first son was born, and me not having the aforementioned patting-the-baby-on-the-back experience, I had no idea what was going on when about five weeks into his life, every night at bedtime, he began to scream endlessly at the top of his lungs.

Have you ever held a colicky baby?
Let me rephrase:
Have you ever been horribly sleep deprived, in bad need of a shampoo, sore in all the wrong places from birthing a child and then nursing said child, loved said child so much that your soul hurts, finally rocked sweet, soft, squishy, milk-filled child to sleep, held your breath as you laid child down in the crib, and as soon as you very very quietly click the doorknob into place, adorable tiny baby turns into a living tornado siren?

And then, instead of going to your own bed to luxuriate in slumber pass out from exhaustion, you go right back to baby, softly coo into his ear, pick him up, and begin pacing the floor again, patting on the back saying “Ssh, ssh, it’s okay, Mommy’s here,” while tears roll down your cheeks and you just pray for this baby to get some sleep and stop screaming in your ear?

I feel you.

Seventeen years later, and my colicky baby is now a strapping young man with the world ahead of him. But I was reminded of those hours of floor pacing when my most recent baby, in the form of a 650 pound, year-and a-half-old filly, Keira, colicked this week.

It was a rookie mistake that could have been avoided. How can I still be making rookie mistakes after five years? I don’t know.  Maybe, as Red Forman would say, I’m just a dumbass.

In Arizona, where our ground is very dry and rocky, it’s a good idea to feed your horses from some type of feeder/container so they are not eating right off the ground and eating a certain amount of dirt.

There’s the over-the-fence half barrel feeder, which is quite popular, since it forces the horse to pull the hay through metal bars, which makes them eat slower (or at least that’s the idea) and keeps the food off the ground.

Or there’s the huge bathtub-type bucket (or various styles of trough-type feeders) that allows the horse to hang its head in a more natural grazing position, but still keeping the hay off the ground.

These are wonderful, sensible options. Unless you have horses like mine who knock their feeders around so much, banging them against the fence (and believe me we tried wiring the feeders to the fence to avoid this. Wire breaks. Plastic tears.) And then they proceed to use their big horsey noses to shove all of the hay out of the feeders anyway so that they can snuffle it around with their noses, crunch it up with their hooves, and eat it off the rocky ground.

So feeders don’t really work with my girls. I did finally get a load of wood grindings for their stalls, to provide better bedding, maybe help their feather grow in without breaking off so much (another side effect of the dirt – it’s horrible on feather), and I figured it would be better to eat hay off of a nice layer of wood grindings, rather than dirt.

But those pesky tasty alfalfa leaves get down into the layers of wood, and prehensile horse lips love to dig around for the very. last. bit. of. green. they can find. Down to the rocky soil.

In which case, if you have exhausted all of your options, (check) you should have your horses on a schedule for feeding psyllium, to help get all of that ingested sand out of their gut. Now, by nature of their personalities and/or constitution, some horses will have problems with sand colic, and some will not. Chroi has never had an issue with it, and I’ve never bothered with feeding psyllium. First mistake. It’s called preventive for a reason.

If you’ve never “had an issue” with cavities, should you just not worry about brushing your teeth? If you’ve never “had an issue” with your car, should you just not worry about changing your oil?

You get where I’m going here.

By starting and keeping my horses on a preventive regimen, I could have saved poor Keira from suffering with her tummy ache, having her lip twisted in a twitch to distract her from the rectal exam, and a tube shoved up her nose in order to pump a gallon of mineral oil into her gut.

It was at this point in the vet’s visit that I mentioned to his assistant that I should have had my camera so I could take a picture. She gave me a weird look and asked, “you want a picture of your horse getting a tube shoved up her nose?” I said sheepishly, “Yeah, for my blog.”

I felt kind of bad using my horse’s pain for creative spark, but I thought this is exactly why I started this blog. To share my experiences, including all the slip-ups, for those who might be going through the same things, so that you can learn from my mistakes.

I mean, it’s not like Keira can scream into my ear when she’s not feeling good, and it would be very difficult to carry her around on my shoulder and pat her on the back.

So write it down: PSYLLIUM. One week out of every month, and you will save your horse from suffering. And a vet bill.

Speaking of which, I have to give a shout-out to my vet, Dr. Longworth, and his assistant Rachel. They are my heroes this month. Thank you

**I originally had the word “bitches” here, but I’m not really sure how much I want to offend the few readers I have, so when checking my thesaurus for alternatives, the word “grimalkins” showed up, with the qualifier: archaic.
I had to use it.
I mean, come on.