I bought a cabinet with more than average front-to-back depth and adjustable shelves from a lady on the Catholic homeschooling email list. She wanted $150 but accepted $125 without objection. My husband and two bros - not Vlad, because of his toe trauma - will pick it up this evening from a nearby neighborhood and figure out where it should go in the kitchen to hold large things like the air fryer and the crockpot that used to be in the cabinet on which sat the lizard cage.
There may still be room for the Ikea pine table. If not, it can go back in the dining room. It wanders around the house depending on what else needs to be in particular room.
In our animal menagerie, we've owned 4 horses. I thought it was 5 but that included my wife's premarital dressage horse. Krugerrand was 16.5 hands. She taught me trot, change leads, and jump a 3 foot fence. A beginner jump after smaller covaletti' jumps. Of course I was tossed over the head and front of the horse and solo over a jump. Ms. Pinki demanded I take charge and impulse the boy over again.! Success. She taught me to trot, canter and gallop. We rode at the Greenbrier many times, Hawaii, Europe.
We had 2 in Mass, one went to Michigan on Tour #1. 2 in Wva farm. One named Rowdy. And one day Pinki wanted to bring him another fenced field. She is a good rider. So, up on his back. No saddle. Just bareback riding a horse.
Rowdy decided to well, be rowdy and he was bolting and it was not good.
From 100 feet away, in my deep loud voice yelled firmly - Woah!
Rowdy stopped right then and didn't move. One of my grandest animal moments. And when I got married in 77, I had never owned any pet.
Friends found upon gambling but prior to marrying Katie. I used to enjoy going to Churchill Downs in Louisville once or twice a year.
Pam and I would each take $20, two dollars on any given race (10 races total). At the end of the day we would cash in whatever the winnings we had. Pam was modest, but this was an excuse to sit out in the sun and catch some rays. She enjoyed it. We'd eat lunch, grab a snack, have a couple of cokes, rarely spent another $20. The first time I took Pam I told her if she wanted to be happier than sad, then to bet the favorite to show.
One time we took the godparents with us. The godmother would not gamble, but her husband did and spectacularly lost every single race he bet. 🤷♂️ Meanwhile I think Pam cashed 6 races. It infuriated the Godfather. He was studying and trying to figure out how to win. Meanwhile, Pam spent 20 seconds making a decision and winning a little bit of money. 😀
But going wasn’t about winning money, it was about relaxing for an afternoon, having a reason to root for someone in the race. And enjoying being with my wife. It was always a good day.
I remember when Secretary won the triple crown. A common joke at school was that if reincarnation really exists who wouldn’t wanna come back as a triple crown winner in the next life? I never wished for that myself, mostly because I had a fear that would be an administrative typo, and I’d come back as a gelding.😳
Anyone else ever stood at the rail with a $2 bet on the line? When they come thundering by, the sound and the rush of hot air blowing along with them is indescribable.
While I did not stand at the rail, I had a good time on a company outing to Arlington Park circa 2000. Only time I've ever been there, but I can say I had that experience.
I've been there a number of times with a bit more than $2 on the line sometimes.
Watching a horse race from the stands or from a track dining room viewing area, while fun and exciting, is like viewing Niagra Falls from the high ground... you don't have any real appreciation of the power involved in all that fast moving water until you get right up next to the falls down near the bottom, which is the equivalent of standing at the rail of a horse race somewhere along the stretch between the quarter pole and the finish line as the horses head for the wire, the best among them laying down all the power and energy they have with each and every often-lengthening stride.
If one experiences that and feels no rise of excitement, one might want to check one's pulse to see if you still have one.
The only other thing I've ever gotten more raw pleasure and excitement from when it comes to horses has been being mounted on one of my own Quarter Horses, clutching a handful of mane as it danced and pranced in place in anticipation of what it knew was coming next: my touching a heel to its flank, giving it its head and whispering "Git!" into its ear, then feeling the raw power unleashed as it hit 45 mph in about 3 or 4 bounds and then just kept on hauling a** until I shifted my weight back in the saddle, picked up the reins and eased the horse back down to a canter, trot or walk.
Just nothing like that if you have an appreciation for how powerful an animal a horse is. And I'll take 40 mph+ on horseback all day every day and twice on Sundays over any speed any vehicle can produce with hundreds of mechanical horsepower.
I know the sounds and thrills. I’ve stood on the sidewalks of Cologne and watched scores of Rhinelanders rush into the bars as they opened for Karneval, many also bareback. In fact, I may even have been among them…
This sounds like Pamplona on the Rhine and you running with the bulls**t. 🙄😉
But while not having had the experience myself, I suppose jockeying for the best position at the bar in the middle of a stampede is probably a bit of a thrill.
No, but D and I went with my mom to a polo match in The Villages. I thought it was really cool and could have watched the horses all afternoon, but Mom got tired and D got bored.
I understand the fascination with just about everything related to horses. All except the cleaning out of stalls and the fact that they're like dairy cattle. You can't ever get away for even a day.
When I was young, I dreamed of owning a horse farm. The dream came true as a young adult, and we raised sheep and horses. We had an imported Welsh Cob stallion and bred and raised Welsh Cobs and crosses. At one point we had 33 horses.
Well, all good things, etc. We sold just about everything and everyone when I went into ministry full-time. We moved to a smaller piece of land and my husband built a small house. Brought seven of the old, bad, mean, or otherwise unsellable horses.Twenty years later, four of them still roam the fields.
I loved just watching the animals. I’ve always had people-intensive jobs, and animals are a blessed relief—no complaints, no agenda. Plus, it wasn’t a bad way to raise kids. With horses, there were always extra children who ended up practically living with us.
It is also that they live so long. Unless you are emotionally willing to sell a horse, that is an extremely long commitment. Then there is the little bit about falling from a horse. We were in Iceland recently where they have unique horses - smaller and hardier. We did the touristy horse ride - in fierce winds. There was only one women in the group who claimed experience riding, and of course she was the one that fell when her horse decided to bolt. She was terribly injured with broken jaw, concussion, other facial fractures. She had to cut her trip short and fly back to the states for surgery.
One significant problem with thoroughbred racing is that the horses are started before they’re actually mature. A horse doesn’t have a mature skeleton until around six, and yet they are raced as 2 and 3 year olds. Everybody knows this, but the greed overcomes any hesitation.
Yes, that's very unfortunate. One reason Kentucky and central Florida are major horse-breeding areas is that the karst geology produces high-calcium grass, which makes the horses' bones stronger than they would otherwise be.
If you’re ever in Lexington KY, a trip to the Kentucky Horse Park and the museum there is well worth your time. It’s like a natural history horse museum. It was also my favorite place to run! There was always a horse or two happy to get a carrot from my pocket.
Follow it by a trip out to Old Friends Farm, a wonderfully run horse retirement farm. I used to volunteer there.
I was rearranging my bookshelves and found a small atlas, which I'm finding helps my reading of a novel set in the 18th century, involving various locations in North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia. I didn't really have a good idea of the location of Charles Town (as it used to be called) or Savannah, and now I do. I see it's also relevant to the 21st century; I had vaguely envisioned Charlotte as being somewhere in the interior of NC, and now I see it's relatively close to several state lines--but not Kentucky.
I'm re-reading Go Tell the Bees That I Am Gone (2021), the most recent instalment in the Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon. Her fans are awaiting the next one; we all know it takes her time to write them, so we re-read the others in the meantime.
In the novel, they're traveling in wagons, and the roads are not what we're used to. Still, they're making pretty good time. But that means weeks, not hours. Also, one needs to know whether a town is being held by the Redcoats or the Continental Army, in order to behave appropriately and avoid trouble. But fresh seafood and produce are readily available, as are lodgings if one is not too particular.
I read this after seeing another headline about increases in military recruiting. Little ol' me has been puzzled by the increase given the security breaches and chaos. Now I see something else and am looking for a reason to find a less emotional description "alarmed".
Good morning, 50 degrees now and sunny rumored to reach 80 this PM. The mothership is covering the Ukraine peace talks, which are going nowhere. Trump seems to blame the Ukrainians, for wanting the return of children abducted by the Russians, and for wanting security guarantees, like NATO membership.
A “hand” used as measurement for horses, as in the TSAF article, is 4 inches. So “16 hands high” is 64 inches, or 5 feet 4 inches, measured at the shoulder.
The horse is an animal that has been bred for human use for thousands of years, and for most of that time has served mankind as the main means of land transportation. We owe them a debt of gratitude, paid by maintaining the in dignity and comfort.
Good morning. Phil you usually make note of The Free Press coverage. There is an article of particular relevance to TCSLF this morning, from Tyler Cowen.
The Case for Living Online
"Admonishments against the online world miss why it is profoundly human: Without the internet, I would not know most of the people I learn from the most."
I glanced at that article, couldn't reduce that into a short take that I liked, so I let it go. Mabye it was becayse I spend too much time online myself. 🙂
Yeah...I read that. Whatever works. Personally, I learn online, offline, inline, adrenaline, shoreline, the hardline, plotline, and occasionally a lifeline.
Good morning. Looks like it will be a cloudy day and rain later. It's almost light enough to take the neighbor's dog out. I need to be able to see to pick up the plotz.
Last night I was driving to dinner and saw a friend walking his two Goldens. He was also carrying a plastic container. He was mouthing something to me so I rolled down my window to hear what he was saying. He said, “I forgot a bag so I had to dig this out of a recycling bin.” I started laughing and he said, “hey at least I’m a responsible dog owner.” Yes, yes you are.
Well played. The dog tends to plotz in fits and starts, like a horse walking in a parade.
Reminds me that we don't want a dog ...
And D let the gray cat in the house again. Every time I ask, "Did you leave the cat outside?" and she says, "As far as I know ...," the cat is inside. Funny about that.
I bought a cabinet with more than average front-to-back depth and adjustable shelves from a lady on the Catholic homeschooling email list. She wanted $150 but accepted $125 without objection. My husband and two bros - not Vlad, because of his toe trauma - will pick it up this evening from a nearby neighborhood and figure out where it should go in the kitchen to hold large things like the air fryer and the crockpot that used to be in the cabinet on which sat the lizard cage.
There may still be room for the Ikea pine table. If not, it can go back in the dining room. It wanders around the house depending on what else needs to be in particular room.
In our animal menagerie, we've owned 4 horses. I thought it was 5 but that included my wife's premarital dressage horse. Krugerrand was 16.5 hands. She taught me trot, change leads, and jump a 3 foot fence. A beginner jump after smaller covaletti' jumps. Of course I was tossed over the head and front of the horse and solo over a jump. Ms. Pinki demanded I take charge and impulse the boy over again.! Success. She taught me to trot, canter and gallop. We rode at the Greenbrier many times, Hawaii, Europe.
We had 2 in Mass, one went to Michigan on Tour #1. 2 in Wva farm. One named Rowdy. And one day Pinki wanted to bring him another fenced field. She is a good rider. So, up on his back. No saddle. Just bareback riding a horse.
Rowdy decided to well, be rowdy and he was bolting and it was not good.
From 100 feet away, in my deep loud voice yelled firmly - Woah!
Rowdy stopped right then and didn't move. One of my grandest animal moments. And when I got married in 77, I had never owned any pet.
Friends found upon gambling but prior to marrying Katie. I used to enjoy going to Churchill Downs in Louisville once or twice a year.
Pam and I would each take $20, two dollars on any given race (10 races total). At the end of the day we would cash in whatever the winnings we had. Pam was modest, but this was an excuse to sit out in the sun and catch some rays. She enjoyed it. We'd eat lunch, grab a snack, have a couple of cokes, rarely spent another $20. The first time I took Pam I told her if she wanted to be happier than sad, then to bet the favorite to show.
One time we took the godparents with us. The godmother would not gamble, but her husband did and spectacularly lost every single race he bet. 🤷♂️ Meanwhile I think Pam cashed 6 races. It infuriated the Godfather. He was studying and trying to figure out how to win. Meanwhile, Pam spent 20 seconds making a decision and winning a little bit of money. 😀
But going wasn’t about winning money, it was about relaxing for an afternoon, having a reason to root for someone in the race. And enjoying being with my wife. It was always a good day.
I remember when Secretary won the triple crown. A common joke at school was that if reincarnation really exists who wouldn’t wanna come back as a triple crown winner in the next life? I never wished for that myself, mostly because I had a fear that would be an administrative typo, and I’d come back as a gelding.😳
Maybe Trosino will weigh in with some horse knowledge. Trosino...you out there?
The whole article is undiluted Trosino bait!
Anyone else ever stood at the rail with a $2 bet on the line? When they come thundering by, the sound and the rush of hot air blowing along with them is indescribable.
While I did not stand at the rail, I had a good time on a company outing to Arlington Park circa 2000. Only time I've ever been there, but I can say I had that experience.
I've been there a number of times with a bit more than $2 on the line sometimes.
Watching a horse race from the stands or from a track dining room viewing area, while fun and exciting, is like viewing Niagra Falls from the high ground... you don't have any real appreciation of the power involved in all that fast moving water until you get right up next to the falls down near the bottom, which is the equivalent of standing at the rail of a horse race somewhere along the stretch between the quarter pole and the finish line as the horses head for the wire, the best among them laying down all the power and energy they have with each and every often-lengthening stride.
If one experiences that and feels no rise of excitement, one might want to check one's pulse to see if you still have one.
The only other thing I've ever gotten more raw pleasure and excitement from when it comes to horses has been being mounted on one of my own Quarter Horses, clutching a handful of mane as it danced and pranced in place in anticipation of what it knew was coming next: my touching a heel to its flank, giving it its head and whispering "Git!" into its ear, then feeling the raw power unleashed as it hit 45 mph in about 3 or 4 bounds and then just kept on hauling a** until I shifted my weight back in the saddle, picked up the reins and eased the horse back down to a canter, trot or walk.
Just nothing like that if you have an appreciation for how powerful an animal a horse is. And I'll take 40 mph+ on horseback all day every day and twice on Sundays over any speed any vehicle can produce with hundreds of mechanical horsepower.
I know the sounds and thrills. I’ve stood on the sidewalks of Cologne and watched scores of Rhinelanders rush into the bars as they opened for Karneval, many also bareback. In fact, I may even have been among them…
This sounds like Pamplona on the Rhine and you running with the bulls**t. 🙄😉
But while not having had the experience myself, I suppose jockeying for the best position at the bar in the middle of a stampede is probably a bit of a thrill.
I'm picturing you looking like Viggo Mortensen in Hidalgo. "Let'er Buck!" Great movie.
No, but D and I went with my mom to a polo match in The Villages. I thought it was really cool and could have watched the horses all afternoon, but Mom got tired and D got bored.
I understand the fascination with just about everything related to horses. All except the cleaning out of stalls and the fact that they're like dairy cattle. You can't ever get away for even a day.
When I was young, I dreamed of owning a horse farm. The dream came true as a young adult, and we raised sheep and horses. We had an imported Welsh Cob stallion and bred and raised Welsh Cobs and crosses. At one point we had 33 horses.
Well, all good things, etc. We sold just about everything and everyone when I went into ministry full-time. We moved to a smaller piece of land and my husband built a small house. Brought seven of the old, bad, mean, or otherwise unsellable horses.Twenty years later, four of them still roam the fields.
I loved just watching the animals. I’ve always had people-intensive jobs, and animals are a blessed relief—no complaints, no agenda. Plus, it wasn’t a bad way to raise kids. With horses, there were always extra children who ended up practically living with us.
I have had a good life.
It is also that they live so long. Unless you are emotionally willing to sell a horse, that is an extremely long commitment. Then there is the little bit about falling from a horse. We were in Iceland recently where they have unique horses - smaller and hardier. We did the touristy horse ride - in fierce winds. There was only one women in the group who claimed experience riding, and of course she was the one that fell when her horse decided to bolt. She was terribly injured with broken jaw, concussion, other facial fractures. She had to cut her trip short and fly back to the states for surgery.
One significant problem with thoroughbred racing is that the horses are started before they’re actually mature. A horse doesn’t have a mature skeleton until around six, and yet they are raced as 2 and 3 year olds. Everybody knows this, but the greed overcomes any hesitation.
Yes, that's very unfortunate. One reason Kentucky and central Florida are major horse-breeding areas is that the karst geology produces high-calcium grass, which makes the horses' bones stronger than they would otherwise be.
If you’re ever in Lexington KY, a trip to the Kentucky Horse Park and the museum there is well worth your time. It’s like a natural history horse museum. It was also my favorite place to run! There was always a horse or two happy to get a carrot from my pocket.
Follow it by a trip out to Old Friends Farm, a wonderfully run horse retirement farm. I used to volunteer there.
Sounds like fun! D and I have visited horse farms in the Ocala, Florida, area.
Oh, man. It would make a great mother/daughter short trip. A ride down Pisgah Pike followed by lunch at Wallace Station and you’d be Mom of the Year.
First, there would be the 7 hours to get to Lexington from Charlotte.
I was rearranging my bookshelves and found a small atlas, which I'm finding helps my reading of a novel set in the 18th century, involving various locations in North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia. I didn't really have a good idea of the location of Charles Town (as it used to be called) or Savannah, and now I do. I see it's also relevant to the 21st century; I had vaguely envisioned Charlotte as being somewhere in the interior of NC, and now I see it's relatively close to several state lines--but not Kentucky.
What’s the novel?
I'm re-reading Go Tell the Bees That I Am Gone (2021), the most recent instalment in the Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon. Her fans are awaiting the next one; we all know it takes her time to write them, so we re-read the others in the meantime.
No, not Kentucky. Savannah and Charles Town, as was, are 3-1/2 to 5 hours from Charlotte, depending on road conditions.
In the novel, they're traveling in wagons, and the roads are not what we're used to. Still, they're making pretty good time. But that means weeks, not hours. Also, one needs to know whether a town is being held by the Redcoats or the Continental Army, in order to behave appropriately and avoid trouble. But fresh seafood and produce are readily available, as are lodgings if one is not too particular.
From John M: Worth Your Time II: 'The Anti-Woke Right Has a Lot to Answer For' --David French
https://www.nytimes.com/2025/04/24/opinion/trump-woke-free-speech.html?unlocked_article_code=1.CE8.hX3F.Vlz-JSXrMWZe&smid=url-share
I read this after seeing another headline about increases in military recruiting. Little ol' me has been puzzled by the increase given the security breaches and chaos. Now I see something else and am looking for a reason to find a less emotional description "alarmed".
Good morning, 50 degrees now and sunny rumored to reach 80 this PM. The mothership is covering the Ukraine peace talks, which are going nowhere. Trump seems to blame the Ukrainians, for wanting the return of children abducted by the Russians, and for wanting security guarantees, like NATO membership.
A “hand” used as measurement for horses, as in the TSAF article, is 4 inches. So “16 hands high” is 64 inches, or 5 feet 4 inches, measured at the shoulder.
The horse is an animal that has been bred for human use for thousands of years, and for most of that time has served mankind as the main means of land transportation. We owe them a debt of gratitude, paid by maintaining the in dignity and comfort.
Good morning. Phil you usually make note of The Free Press coverage. There is an article of particular relevance to TCSLF this morning, from Tyler Cowen.
The Case for Living Online
"Admonishments against the online world miss why it is profoundly human: Without the internet, I would not know most of the people I learn from the most."
I glanced at that article, couldn't reduce that into a short take that I liked, so I let it go. Mabye it was becayse I spend too much time online myself. 🙂
Yeah...I read that. Whatever works. Personally, I learn online, offline, inline, adrenaline, shoreline, the hardline, plotline, and occasionally a lifeline.
I am always interested in the byline.
And when Manul pops up, from feline.
Punchline.
Ooooh...good one.
Very good. To add - ridge line and fly line.
Good ones.
Good morning. Looks like it will be a cloudy day and rain later. It's almost light enough to take the neighbor's dog out. I need to be able to see to pick up the plotz.
Last night I was driving to dinner and saw a friend walking his two Goldens. He was also carrying a plastic container. He was mouthing something to me so I rolled down my window to hear what he was saying. He said, “I forgot a bag so I had to dig this out of a recycling bin.” I started laughing and he said, “hey at least I’m a responsible dog owner.” Yes, yes you are.
Yes, much better than just leaving the droppings. Our neighborhood has some stands with bags and containers, fortunately.
Morning! Would a windy day produce scatter plotz?
Misfire.
Well played. The dog tends to plotz in fits and starts, like a horse walking in a parade.
Reminds me that we don't want a dog ...
And D let the gray cat in the house again. Every time I ask, "Did you leave the cat outside?" and she says, "As far as I know ...," the cat is inside. Funny about that.