OK, are you sitting down? Hubby and I are a couple who met online and made it work. Yes, we did!
Our first date, after many IQ conversations over the internet, and a few phone conversations, was meeting at the Fort Worth Zoo. Hmmmmmm, there was something prophetic about that, as my critters, whom I refer to as my "babies", and his one critter, his "son", were destined one day to form a family, sort of a furry version of the Brady Bunch.
This included an over-the-hill quarter horse named Chico that a neighbor had lent or given him, depending on the neighbor's whim at the moment. Chico was future-Hubby's way of working on my heart. Chico was his avenue to accompany me on a horse-camping trip with a group called the Saddle Bags and Saddle Bums, what a name, huh? Well, here was a single man who loved horses and was willing to endulge my horse-habit, love of the outdoors and desire to camp. I was a goner. OK, I'm simple!
That camping trip near Thanksgiving was pretty eventful. Beautiful place, Ebinezar State Park, which we refer to as the "Enchanted Forest," at least as close as you'll get in Texas. It was great company, beautiful weather during the day, and a wonderful Thanksgiving meal.
Because Chico was so slow first day out, and not that cooperative with future-Hubby, I offered the second day to trade horses with him. I trusted my beloved Fargo, a gaited horse, to him and took Chico, being the more experienced rider. Well, if the engine has bad cilinders, your not going to get much "horsepower" and that old, old horse sure didn't have much "horsepower." He wore me out trying to keep him moving!
We took our usual quarters that night: he slept in his truck with a plug-in heater to keep warm. I slept in my $30 Walmart tent, on the ground, in my coat and sleeping bag, with an oil-filled plug-in heater. That night the temperature dropped down in the twenties. I shook and shivered all night and woke up in the morning throwing up my guts.
Needless to say, I didn't ride the next day, and future-Hubby got Fargo all to himself and Chico got out of having to work.
It was the last time we camped so crudely, the marriage to soon follow. Chico had to go! Luckily, the owner decided he had not given the horse to future-hubby and took him back. Yippee! But Hubby had to have a horse. Afterall, that's why I married him--so I'd have someone to ride and camp with!
OK, that's not the only reason but certainly was a big part of our relationship. That's when we added an "Our Kid" to "His" and "Mine."
Enter "Duece" (Dutchboy's Final Review), a beautiful black and white spotted Tennessee Walker. I tried to post a picture here of the two of them but I haven't learned the ropes here yet. Let me suffice it to say, they are an interesting pair, my Hubby at 5'3" and Duece who is a very, very big boy! We lovingly call Duece "The Brontosaurus" if that gives you an idea of his size.
OK, you probably think I have digressed from my claim this is a journal of our natural farm. Not really. You need compost, more crudely put, POOP(!) for a natural farm. Duece is one of our valuable "poop machines."