“Gentlin” horses. That’s what my mentor used to call it. I was younger then, a teenager, so I didn’t get the irony of the term. Nowadays we are exposed to a lot of information about horse training. Most of it is really good stuff. These demonstrations are performed by very able horseman and women with nearly untouched young horses. Even so occasionally a “jackpot” crops up requiring some quick evasive action, or discipline. What I’m concerned about is the person who is in the position that I was years ago, faced with wanting to train a horse, but not having a lot of experience nor knowledge – nor help.

What I found was that everything went fine until me and ‘ol pony came to a disagreement. At that point, instincts took over and a thousand pounds of powerful scared animal whose nervous system was at least three times as quick as mine, went into flight or fight mode. My horse training went to “hell in a handbasket“ in a microsecond. I didn’t have a prearranged plan so I got kicked, bit, bucked off, run away with, dragged, stepped on,knocked down (did I leave anything out?). My horses were none too gentle with my personal body I can tell you that! I went through several years of pretty “un-gentle” responses to these outbursts.  A lot of people would’ve just quit ( the sane ones) and switched to golf, or racecar driving. But, I was an addict, so I persisted. Finally, I got lucky and begin to work with some really fine expert horse tamers and trainers who in turn had learned from older mentors. Their methods took into account the mind and instincts of a prey animal who was ten times their size, ten times their strength and at least three times their quickness. They were able to establish trust, and then obedience, making most of their mounts into “Noble Steeds”. Their teachings have been a godsend to me. I thank them all, and I recommend to other addicts– please get help before you get hurt!

“Hold my beer and watch this”

Texas may not have a corner on the market but we definitely lead the world in a certain type of cavalier recklessness that gives cowboys a bad name in the rest of the world. Yours truly has contributed his share of stories to the XX file. I call it “linear thinking” otherwise known as ignoring consequences!

Many years ago we had one of our biblical floods in the creek bottoms. My dear, long-suffering, wife and I were prowling that pasture to make sure we had not left cows stranded. At one point I decided to take a shortcut through a slough. As the mare I was riding stepped off into the water I discovered that it was deeper than I thought. Rather than turn back, I “John Wayned” it and plowed on in! The next thing that I discovered was that the mare could swim. I found that when riding a swimming horse, 80% of horse and rider are below water level! When we emerged on the far bank I dismounted, clothes soaked, and boots full of water. I raised my legs up one at a time and dumped a half gallon of swamp water out of my tall boots!

Well decades later I was attempting to get a brangus bull out of a pasture with a stock tank (pond) in it. He ran and jumped into the tank. I rode around it trying to catch him coming out the other side. But he kept jumping back into deep water and swimming out of reach. Out of cowboy frustration I spurred my young gelding into the water to follow him and “by God push him out”! Well, I’d heard that some horses swim, and some don’t. He definitely fell in the latter category! The gelding rolled over on his side, unable to keep his head above water.  I could see he was not going to make it. heavy with water soaked jacket, chaps and boots I jumped out of the saddle, grabbed his head, and started doing the sidestroke-lifeguard-carry to the edge of the tank where we could both get a foothold and stand up. By this time I didn’t give a tinker’s damn about the bull! I was just glad we were both breathing air.  Probably ten years from now I’ll try to swim the gulf of Mexico on a Shetland pony.

This weekend we were delighted to have some friends from Missouri come to spend some time with us. Why so delighted you ask? Well for one reason they were singer-songwriters and excellent – no incredible – guitarists! Bob Ranney and Doug Rees were in Texas to do some music gigs so we got to enjoy them “in between”. There’s just nothing like singing in the kitchen until the late hours call you to your bed. We dredged up old folk songs, jazz songs, gospel, even blues and bluegrass songs.  We sang in harmony, and also sang solos. I even dragged out my ‘ol banjo.

It occurred to me that in this age of computers and widescreen television we often miss the chemistry of good ‘ol front porch music and singing. Years ago we didn’t have all the electronics available so we had to entertain ourselves

Then I got to thinking about how we nowadays can play CDs of country singers of the early 20th century and even  of dudes like Vivaldi and Beethoven, whose music could only be heard in a concert hall when an orchestra got together.  We are so lucky to have music available at our fingertips! Speaking of fingertips, mine are sure sore from playing all weekend when I haven’t played that ‘ol banjo for many moons.

Once there was this cowboy who tried to learn to cook
But he didn’t have no teacher so he learned it from a book
His chicken fries were disasters
His gravy tasted like plaster
And he began to think he’d mistook in the path he took

But hold it, pard, he found some lard and mixed it in his flour
Then saleratus, and sugar and salt, and milk a little bit sour
He rolled it flat as a bible
And when baked it had no rival
For his buttermilk biskits were a hit, he was the man of the hour

He didn’t have no yeast one day, and bread he hadn’t a crumb
So he chopped up a tater, in flour and water and put it in a tub
The day was hot as Hades
And I’ll tell you gents and ladies
When that brew got going it blowed the tub plumb to Kingdom Come

Well there was a little left just barely worth retrievin’
So he put it in a pan of flour he had been a’savin’
It rose, and it rose
And only God knows
The reason why that loaf of sourdough was sure beyond believin’

So gents you mustn’t be afraid to be experimental
Even when your friends think you a little “mental”
You might be surprised
When your dough has rised
And your chuck is delicious even when it’s accidental