30 December, 2021

A Yule Prodigal

"Hi Marky, it's me. Just calling to tell you that I hung the ornament you made for me on the tree today. Remember that? I love you and miss you so much. Please honey, come home soon." I knew my Mom well enough to recognize that her voice, so warm and soothing, was holding back a sob. She was trying hard to sound strong and courageous. I thought of my mother and of the loving home that she created for me, all these years. Gosh, I lost count of how many times I must have broken her heart, including tonight.

HOME...
"I'm dreaming tonight of a place I love
Even more then I usually do
And although I know,
it's a long road back
I promise you
I'll be home for Christmas."-from the song, I'll Be Home for Christmas, written by Kim Gannon  and Walter Kent 
Like Dorothy, in the Wizard of Oz movie, I wanted to click my heels together and say, "there's no place like home" and find myself walking the long gravel driveway that led back to the farmhouse with red shutters, a warm and inviting glow radiating from all the windows. Home...my home. My heart fluttered. How I missed home. I imagined opening the front door, to fall into the waiting arms of my loving mother. Nothing could define home more concisely than my mother.

When I left home, I was determined to become my own person and do all the things I wanted to do, when I wanted to do them and never apologize.

LIVE FAST and DIE YOUNG.

Life,  for me, was meant to be lived on the edge, played hard and loud...like rock music. And yes, I had done exactly that...except that I hadn't bargained on living a life that was less than full, a life that paled in comparison to the quality of life I lived when, yup, you guessed it...when I was home. I was ready for a change and now, listening to my mother's voice...well, I was not so proud of my so-called independent life. And yet, I knew that no matter what I did, what I said or how ugly I got, I knew that my mother would still love me. My mother still believed in me, even when I wasn't worthy of her trust. I craved forgiveness and I was struggling with the whole concept of redemption...and God. "Maybe, that's how I need to think of God...like I think of my mother, a person whose love knows no limits, always there for me. That's how God must love me too, maybe...even more."
"Preparing for Christmas means looking deep within ourselves and asking if our hearts are truly at home in the lives we are living. "-Mary Lou Redding, from her book, While We Wait: Living the Questions of Advent
I really needed to do something, maybe I needed to accept this gift of love that I had been given...and so, I picked up the receiver and dialed.
 
One...two...three rings...no answer...
 
...just when I was ready to hang up...
 
"Hello?"

*pause*
 
"Hello?"

I was quiet for a second, thinking of all I wanted to tell her and couldn't. I was afraid.

"Hello?

*pause*

Is someone there?

*pause*

Marky? Is this you?

*pause*

Please, Marky, say something...anything," she pleaded.

*pause*
 
"Mom...uh, yes...it's...it's Marky." I paused and said, "Mom...uh..I'm sorry...for everything. I've been so wrong about so many things...and..about Christmas, well, can I come home?" as I finally started to tear down the walls of anger and bitterness, that kept me separated from the people and the place I knew as... 
 
HOME.

***This is an oldie too, maybe 10 years old or more. It just came to me one night and I was lucky enough to have paper and pen at that moment.  I try to publish it at Christmastime each year. Apologies, for the delay and thank you dear reader, for visiting the blog over this past year.***

24 December, 2021

Finding JOY in a Pandemic



If only I had a horse...How many times had I said these words to myself? If only I had a horse, I would be so happy and that happiness, would trickle into other parts of my life. I would have tons of friends and a full engagement calendar, because I would be more fun to be around. My sales would be off the charts, from all the clients I would charm with all that new found charisma. And with all that money, guess what I could buy? Horses...if only, if only, if only...I was getting desperate...and dare I say, older. I was starting to believe that owning a horse would never happen for me.

The thermometer barely registered 15 degrees Fahrenheit. It was a bitter cold December morning. My hands ached. I drove them deeper into the pockets of my coat, searching for any warmth I could find within them. Even though I dislike wearing a mask, I was grateful for the warmth it offered my nose and lips. Last night's snowfall, now frozen hard, crunched under my boots, as I carefully navigated the unshoveled stretches of sidewalk.  It was Christmas time and festive lights twinkled all over town but deep inside, nothing made me joyful and I felt really down. I did everything I knew to do, to keep myself healthy, virus-free and working. I had worked harder than I have ever worked before and was not any better financially, than I was last Christmas. Who was I becoming and how did I let that happen? How could I even think about horses? I thought of all the bills that I needed to pay in a few weeks and my stomach started churning. A horse, really?

My boss was an intimidating man. He always got what he wanted and he was willing to do whatever he needed to do, to get it. He had been riding me pretty hard, as my current year sales were falling short of my forecasted budget. "Your sales are really, really bad and your pipeline isn't any better. Unless you do something about it, and do it fast, we are going to be having a different kind of conversation." he said.
"Pressure, pushing down on me, Pressing down on you,  no man ask for, Under pressure"-from the song, Under Pressure written by David Bowie and Queen
My head was spinning. "Doesn't he understand about the pandemic and the effect it is having on everything, including my sales?" The fact was that my sales were almost 90% to budget; a worthy accomplishment on its own, in terms of the new growth which cushioned the economic impact of the spring lockdown. It had been a long, challenging year and frankly, I just wanted to get past Christmas and into what I hoped, would be a more prosperous new year.

I heard him before I could see him. "C'mon baby....let's go!" he shouted at her. He slapped the reins hard against her back and she sprang forward, digging her hooves into the asphalt, every muscle in her powerful body straining, until finally, the carriage started moving in the frozen slush. She was a dark bay mare, a little over 16 hands tall, with powerful shoulders, a strong, wide back and a well-muscled hindquarter.  She really didn't look like a carriage horse. I thought she looked more like one of the crossbred sport horses advertised in the English riding magazines. She was beautiful and her body just screamed to be ridden. I picked up the pace and soon, I had caught up with the carriage. Now that I was closer, I could see that the mare looked tired, cold and hungry. "She's no carriage horse." I thought.

The carriage driver was an older man, about 70-something, maybe a little older. "Hey mister, how much for a ride?" I asked. He turned to face me. "Where you headed?" I noticed the twinkle in his eye and a faint smile of recognition spreading across his face. "500 Market Street, right at the corner of Broad." I told him. He looked at me intently, as if he was studying every feature on my face. "10 bucks, not a penny less." he said. I dove deep into my pockets and pulled out a ten dollar bill and gave it to him. He nodded at me, tipped his top hat and then, he patted the empty seat next to him. "C'mon up and sit here next to me kid. I want to talk with you but do me a favor and take that ridiculous thing off your face. There's no virus here. I scrub this carriage clean in the morning and then again at night. In the old days, a fella who covered his face spelled trouble, for an old fella driving a coach like me."  I pulled the band of my face mask from around my left ear, as I jumped up into the carriage and sat down next to him. "You on your way to work, kid?" he asked me. I nodded, while my stomach turned. "I know how you feel kid, I know how you feel. This cold weather, well, it's hard on an old guy like me. I'm cold all the time. No matter what I do, I'm just cold.  And now, this virus. No one wants to take a ride anymore. What's an old guy to do? Well, I'll tell you what I want. I want something warmer and kinder to these old bones. Today, I am dreaming about Florida. You know, my sister has been trying for years to get me to retire down there. She's got a cute little place in Cocoa Beach.  You know about it?" I shook my head. "Well, it's all about palm trees, flowers, blue sunny skies and no worries. I think she's onto something. Yup, I really think it's time." he said and then he asked me, "so, what time is it for you? Looks like you are about ready for a change too." The mare turned her head around to look at me and then,  I noticed the shape of  the star on her forehead. It looked like a "thumbs-up". I couldn't believe it and I laughed. "You think it's funny to move to Florida?" he asked. "No sir, I just noticed the shape of your mare's marking, on her forehead. It looks like.." but before I could finish, he interrupted "a thumbs up", finishing my sentence.With a sweet face, begging me to help her, she nickered to me and SUDDENLY, what I had been thinking, illuminated into an idea and from there, a plan.

"Hey kid, I think she likes you. That's my Joy, always flirting with the boys." he chuckled to himself. I looked at my watch...quarter past seven. Time was running out and I needed to be in the office in a little more than an hour. "Hey mister, it sounds like you are ready to make a change in your life and well, meeting you and Joy this morning, makes me think that I need to do something different too. So how 'bout it, are you up for sunny Florida and a change?" I asked him, summoning up every bit of courage I could and hoping that this quickly concocted plan would work. Many dollars later and a first class ticket to Florida, I was the proud owner of Joy, a draft cross mare with a "thumbs-up" mark on her forehead. 

When the driver had pulled the harness off of her, it was hard not to miss the loud sigh of relief that came from a place deep down inside of her. Her head rubbed my chest, her sweet breath making me feel both warm and wonderful. As the realization of something much larger than I could ever imagine hit me, a greater question flashed in my mind: 
   Just who is the real angel in all of this? 
and the image of the carriage driver's face popped into my head.. "I thought there was something really familiar about the guy. I just knew it! And it wasn't because he looked like Peter Falk either." I laughed at the thought, as I saw a picture of Columbo, his trademarked trench coat with angel wings, in my mind. My heart, which had been so weighed down with discouragement only a few moments before, became happier, lighter and dare I say, joyful?  "Did I just experience a little miracle and could that driver have been an angel in disguise, sent down from heaven to help me this morning?" I asked myself. "That's another thing too..he kept calling me kid." I smiled, after all, it was Christmas and don't we all become more like children at Christmas? I really felt the holiday spirit or better said, I felt joyful, when a few minutes earlier, I had lost all hope. I  shook my head, trying to shake myself back to reality. "Gosh, I am starting to sound like I have been watching one too many Hallmark channel Christmas movies but I met this guy out of nowhere and now, I have the one thing I have always desired, since I was a child. "If only..." had suddenly materialized into real and tangible joy. It was not exactly how I expected horse ownership to happen for me, here, on a cold and dark city street. However, that's what made it so....miraculous! I felt like singing at the top of my lungs, for all the world to hear
                JOY TO THE WORLD
Joy has finally found me this Christmas!

****This is a fictional story that I wrote many years ago, rewritten to reflect the times we live in. Many thanks to you dear reader for taking the time to visit the blog over the course of 2021, to read the stories of these wonderful horses. I am grateful for you, your kindness and support.  At this time of the year, regardless of who and what you believe in, I hope that when you look at an Arabian horse and become overwhelmed by the horse's beauty, that you also stop for a brief second to also consider the Creator of the universe and the kindness of the Creator to give this most wonderful horse to us as a gift. The Arabian horse, in his living existence, really does  reveal the magnificence of the Creator to us, also a part of creation. Happy Holidays.***

19 December, 2021

2021: Your Favorites

The straight Egyptian stallion, *Nebras Al Rayyan (Ansata Hejazi x Naama Al Rayyan), your 8th favorite blog of 2021

When a year is as challenging as 2021 has been, should we be surprised (or delighted) to find ourselves a couple of weeks from celebrating the New Year? The news has been awful over the past month, in the face of the new Omicron variant and the impact it is quickly exerting upon our daily lives. Things are feeling so uncertain again, as we move forward into 2022. 

What did the blog mean for you in 2021? I hope it offered respite to you, that is, a chance to get away from the intensity of COVID-19, even if only, for a few minutes. 

Over the past year, you have visited the blog 35,000 times...THANK YOU. Including this blog, I will have published 75 blogs in 2021 and you will have left 41 comments. While I don't want the blog to become like a forum, it still is rewarding to read your comments, as the realization for me is that you are reading the published content  and therefore, the memory of these wonderful horses will now live on, through you...THANK YOU. 

There are a couple of ways to present this end-of-year review. The list below reflects your overall favorites, in order of most clicks received, regardless of when the blog was written and published (a couple of them go all the way back to 2006).

  1. Tammenaa MH 
  2. The Straight Babson Egyptian Horse
  3. Al Adeed Al Shaqab in 1-2-3
  4. Historic Marbach Importation
  5. To Serr, with Love
  6. *Bint Moniet El Nefous
  7. The Tamria Story
  8. Bedouin Beauty: Jibbah
  9. Restoration: Portrait of a King
  10. An Ekstern son: TA Arapaho

However, if I consider only the newly-written and published blogs of 2021; which ones are your favorites? The following list is the result, your 2021 top ten, in order of most clicks received:

  1. Tammenaa MH 
  2. Al Adeed Al Shaqab in 1-2-3
  3. Historic Marbach Importation
  4. To Serr, with Love
  5. An Ekstern son: TA Arapaho
  6. The Color of Perfection
  7. #400
  8. *Nebras Al Rayyan
  9. Khartoum RA
  10. Bel Gordas

I hope that 2022 will usher in a year filled with joy, prosperity and good health for you and your families, dear reader. I am overwhelmed with gratitude for your kindness and support, all for the love of the Arabian horse.

Happy Holidays,
Ralph

05 December, 2021

Mare Power

Emira (Laheeb x Embra)


An email blast sent by Arabian Essence for the beautiful show mare, Belladonna AT (Wadee Al Shaqab x Om El Bellatrix), led me to Al Thumama's extraordinary website, which is where I found the above photo of the Laheeb daughter, Emira, out of the Monogramm daughter Embra. The power that is radiating from this mare's body is impressive and out of all the beautiful mares pictured on the mare page, it was this one photo that captured my attention. The elasticity in Emira's hocks, the generously muscled hindquarter and the ability to drive herself forward must be why someone was inspired to coin the phrase, "poetry-in-motion." The way in which Emira is using the muscling in her back and abdomen, allows her to move with a powerful and yet, a supple and free stride that many Arabian enthusiasts recognize as "floating." That moment of suspension, when the horse strikes off the ground and for a fraction of a second is airborne, remains fascinating to me, no matter how many times I see it. She's a beautiful mare, bred by Michalow Stud in Poland, who has won many prizes over a long halter career, beginning in 2001 when she was named the Polish National Junior Champion filly but for me, it's a single action photo, captured within one stride in a free-moving liberty session that makes her unforgettable.  I can't make out the photographer's signature in the photo, so I "googled" to see if I could learn the name of the photographer. 
Złota Nić (Emigrant x Zlota Orda)

And that's how I found the photo of the pure Polish Emigrant daughter, Zlota Nić, also bred by Michalow. If I thought that the elasticity of Emira's hocks is amazing, is there an English word to describe the feeling I experience when I see Zlota Nić? A 2005 mare, owned by Polia Arabians and sold to Morocco, she is a maternal granddaughter of Zagrobla, also a Monogramm daughter like Embra. Zlota Nić also uses her back well, as she drives herself powerfully forward like Emira. 
Taghira B (El Thay Mameluk x 211 Zohair-2)

And as it always happens for me, that is, one horse will remind me of yet another horse and in this case it is none other than the straight Egyptian Taghira B , a 1995 mare sired by El Thay Mameluk and out of the Zohair daughter, 211 Zohair-2, bred by The Babolna Stud. She is photographed by Gigi Grasso, who owned her together with Paolo Damilano of Alfabia Stud. We see the same type of movement in Taghira B, as we see in Emira and Złota Nić.

The late classical riding master, Egon von Neindorff, in his literary masterpiece, The Art of Classical Horsemanship, speaks of another book written by Lieutenant Colonel Otto de la Croix, published in 1902 and specifically a particular section which emphasizes the importance of the back, in helping a horse to move powerfully but in a supple manner. He wrote, "it is the hindquarter activity and primarily the back which resembles a feathering spring that builds an elastic bridge between the horse's forehand and hindquarters."  All three mares share common ground in their excellent use of the back muscles, naturally. The challenge, as it is with any horse, is to replicate the same movement, while balancing the added weight of a rider on her back. With the World Championships a week away, it is reason to  celebrate purebred Arabian horses who move like these mares do. It is poetry-in-motion.

***with many thanks to Arabian Essence.  You can't imagine what an email can do for people like me, in love with the Arabian Horse, as he exists, all over the world.***