STUCK IN THE MIDDLES

Yesterday and today I had John film me working with Lucky. Tonight I sat down to watch the videos and realized, watching them, that I'm boring my horse to death. He's very nearly fed up with me. I've done it. I've gotten stuck in the middle.

I've watched and watched the videos. I've done simulations with John, practiced with the equipment and I've even earned my dues in the volunteer and dirty work department, going to and working at nine barns. And tonight I watched my horse turn off right in front of me. I'm stuck.

Things being the way they are economically, I'm going to have to figure this problem out by myself. I can't afford any clinics or instructors. It's a little bit scary out here by myself. I'm hoping the new Connect through the Savvy Club is going to help me with this. But right now I can't load any pictures because of the computer breakdown and fix that the 'geek' guys did on it. Most of my programs are gone, including the one I used for my photos.

I am so stuck! I promised I wouldn't be one of those "stuck in the middle" people, but here I am. It's like walking through the gooey mud at the edge of the pond, the kind that sucks your boots right off your feet and when you pull your feet out, they get stuck too!

I'm working hard at not doing the pity party thing here. I'm not good at that sort of thing. I can tell you that teaching this to yourself is no easy task. It's harder than putting myself through college with two babies to take care of. At least then I was young enough to still feel like I could do anything.

I have this dream in my head. I want so much to do well for Lucky...and for me. We've gone through a lot together over the past five years. He's as invested in me as I am in him. Today he turned away from me, spent more time on the frozen weeds along the arena edge than paying attention to me. He even bucked and tried to pull out of my hands. I don't know how to stop, how to fix it or how to go forward from here. I'M STUCK!

I'm not necessarily doing things wrong. I'm just boring him to tears. He kept giving me these looks like " Gee whiz. Do I have to do THAT again? This totally sucks." It was that kind of bored teenager look.

I'm a believing kind of person when I think I've found a true expert as a teacher. I watch Pat and Linda Parelli with their horses and it takes my breath away. I watch some of the student auditions on youtube...and it takes my breath away. Tonight I watched myself with Lucky and I had to agree with Lucky. I'm boring. Problem is, I have no idea of how to be "provocative". I don't know where the balance is between too hard and not hard enough. And I don't want to damage the relationship or his dignity, but we can't keep on like we are right now either.

I feel like I'm caught in a loop, going round and round the same part, like a mobius strip. It's like being in one of those Escher drawings, actually I think it's an etching. I'm talking about the one where you see people going up and down these impossible stair cases, around and around in this surreal world where upside down is right side up. I'm that stuck and confused about where to go or how to get over this horrible middle. For the first time, I'm seriously thinking about quitting.

I can't though. I can't give my horses over in to the hands of someone who doesn't try as hard as I do or who only sees them as a hobby, something interesting to entertain themselves with. That would be hell for them. And I'm not a quitter. But that still doesn't solve my problem of being stuck.

I wish I had someone to talk to.

I am, ever yours, Nancy...not smiling much this evening, but still trying

PS. Sorry. No recipes tonight. I don't eat when I feel bad. I loose my appetite. Hard to think about food right now.

A DANCING NORWEGIAN AND COCOA

Remember going to dances with your girl friends in High School? I do. I'd spend hours on my hair, choosing my outfit and jewelry, putting on what makeup I was allowed to wear. They'd come by to pick me up and off we'd go as a troop, there to support each other. Going to a dance by myself would have been torture. Going with friends along, well...there's no way I would have gone by myself. Too many predators to face on my own.

But it was different once we got inside. Up on a stage there would be one of those forever the same school rock bands playing Louie Louie. The lights were turned down low and there were BOYS. Oh the agony and the ecstasy. They'd shuffle around, looking bored and nervous, trying not to stare. And we'd do the same, supposedly there together. But when it came to someone walking in your direction, you were on your own. It was wonderful! Time would stretch out while he walked in your direction, looking at you and no one else. Then he would trip on his own feet because he was as young as you and just as nervous. The game was a foot...the courting game... and we were all players then.

If you were lucky, the guy who came to ask you to dance was pretty good at moving too. There was one I still remember. He was a tall, good looking Norwegian farm kid who's name was Dave. During the day, at school, he was my good buddy. I helped him with his homework and he gave me rides to school and watched my back for me. I was one of the new kids, so a target for the bullies. He befriended me the first day when he backed two of them off for me. He was tall, kind, funny, intelligent and friendly. He was endlessly polite too...opening doors, carrying books and holding chairs for me. He was never embarrassed by this noticeably "uncool" behavior.

It was Dave who came over to ask me to dance first. Whew....known territory. I could relax and just have a good time with him. Turned out he could dance too. I'd had my eye on a career as a professional dancer, so I was used to being light on my feet and could dance for hours at a time. But who knew that Dave could dance too?! It was wonderful! We were real partners together on the dance floor, moving in sync and lost in time. When I look back on it all these years later, it was probably because we both relaxed and just had fun. Neither one of us had any reason to worry about whether we needed to impress anyone. There was no itinerary.

Sound familiar? We relaxed and took the time it takes to find our rhythm together. And, even though we hadn't danced together before, we clicked and moved in unison, turning in circles, lines, sideways, backwards, forwards like we'd always danced as partners. We "heard" each other and moved as if we anticipated each other's thoughts. My feet followed his feet, matching energy and rhythm.

That's the way it was with Lucky today. With his gamy back leg and my equally gamy lower back, we hadn't really played for four weeks together. When I walked in to his pasture, he turned and saw me with his halter and lead and gaited right to me with a nicker. The sun was out, the wind had stopped and the day was ours!

Sometimes, when the stars line up just right, time becomes irrelevant...ceases to exist. It stretches in to that slow wave like it was when I danced with Dave all those years ago. Lucky heard me and knew where we were going at the lightest touch. He asked questions every step of the way, ears forward and eyes soft. And, oh, the licking and chewing going on. I smiled so much my checks are sore tonight! Both of us lost track of time and we danced. When we came up for air, his halter and lead were off and we were playing with no other reason than just because it was a perfect, cold, sunshiny day made for us to BE together. Today Lucky made the years fall away for me. It doesn't get any better than that!

There's only one way to end a day like that. I'm going to give you the recipe for the perfect cup of cocoa.

COCOA LIKE YOUR MAMA MADE IT

1. You'll need a good sauce pot, a whisk, a wooden spoon, excellent swiss cocoa...the dark kind, whole milk and cream, turbinado or demera sugar, real vanilla, a pinch of sea salt and either marshmallows or real whipped cream.

2. Measure in to the pot a heaping tablespoon of rich, dark cocoa and two tablespoons of sugar for each mug of cocoa plus a tiny pinch of sea salt. Add about 2 tablespoons boiling water per mug and whisk it hard while you slowly heat it up. You want the dry ingredients to melt together but not to caramelize.

3. Add 3/4 cup of whole milk and 1/4 cup of cream per mug being made and continue to whisk. After it's thoroughly mixed, switch over to your wooden spoon and continue to stir. Don't let it boil. You want to heat it slowly until it's creamy and steaming hot, just to a simmer. Add a good teaspoon of vanilla at the very end and give it another whisk to froth it up.

4. Ladle it into warmed mugs and top with either marshmallows or whipped cream. Serve it right away. Sip it and savor it. It's guaranteed to make you feel like you're 5 years old again and just come in from playing in the snow all afternoon. Drinking this cocoa is like having your Mom hug you, only from the inside out.

Enjoy! I'm right there beside you, smiling and remembering my night with a Norwegian .

THREE DOG NIGHT

I don't think there's a horse person I know, at least personally, who doesn't have a dog too. And, occasionally, there's a nut case like me who has two or three. I have three, all old friends. Gypsy and Newman are both 16 years old. Crazy Joe Cocker is thirteen. John says that they're all staying here with us because they're already in heaven. My guess is that they would agree with that assessment.

We live on 120 acres of rolling hills, about 1/3 wooded. It's destined to be a wild life preserve one day, so there are places here that haven't been farmed or touched in more than 16 years. The 'wild ones' know it too, so we have deer that stop to look in the back door at us with no fear at all. There are raccoons that live up the hill from us in a little holler. They're the reason our vegetable gardens have to be fenced with 7 foot high fencing. And I never begrudge them a sneak attack on the gardens either. I love to watch them, especially in the late Summer when they bring the babies out to teach them all about how to climb high fences to get at all the booty.

We have three ponds full of frogs, fish, turtles, snakes and all kinds of lovely scummy things just made for hot dogs to swim through. Nothing like showing up at the front door covered in green scum. Makes Mom get out the water hose to spray them down every single time. And if the green pond scum thing doesn't work, there's always little dead things to roll in. And then there's the piece de resistance...THE COMPOST PILE. What dog doesn't love giant mountains of horse poop? You can roll in it, eat it, carry it around, bury it (in the other compost pile, of course) and take naps on top of it when it's cold. Our compost piles get pretty warm in the Winter, steaming hot in fact, at least until they break down.

And then there's the horses themselves. There's a little game they all play with each other. It's a territorial thing. Willow, fierce bad donkey that she is, does not like dogs in her paddocks or pastures. Absolutely NO DOGS ALLOWED! And she'll give em a lick or two if they break that rule. (Although she's always pulls her punches. She's never actually struck any of them.) So, when they were a bit younger, all of them would take turns running past Willow. It was a free for all that I learned early on was not serious, so I always left them to it. And besides, if they were going to get clocked I wanted it to be by Willow rather than one of the horses. They were more likely to survive the experience.

Lucky's favorite game is to lean way over the gate and tag Gypsy. It's a game they've been playing since I brought them home five years ago. Lucky is tall and has a long neck, long enough to be able to reach Gypsy's back. Actually, I think he might be trying to groom her 'whithers'. He smells Gypsy on me and vice versa. Both of them see us as a herd, on Lucky's side, and as a pack, on Gypsy's side. Gypsy grumbles at him, but I've noticed she always goes back to the same place so he can reach her again too.

Joe is my Sam-Wise Ganges, like Bilbo's constant companion in the Lord of the Rings. He's always at my side no matter what. He walks into the paddocks, the pastures, the stalls when I'm there. He's very brave about it as long as he has me to stand behind. He and Apache play games together with Joe running between Apache's legs and under his belly. The two of them race back and forth across the pasture. Of course Apache always wins the race, but he pulls his punches too. The most I've ever seen him do is to catch Joe when his hair is too long and give him a little tug.

Newman is my half coyote/half dog. He's quite aloof. He has a job. He goes out to mark all territory surrounding the area that he considers our home turf. After performing his duty solemnly, he takes up a prominent spot under a bush or in the long grass where you can't see him, but he can see you. Horse games are beneath him unless other coyotes try to come on to his land. He is the outer guard to Willow's inner guard, even as old as he is. I've always thought that one day Newman will just run right out of his skin when it's time to depart this world. All I'll find is a bit of blond coyote ruff blowing across a field, or maybe stuck in the tops of the grasses.

Tonight I'm going to give you my recipe for homemade dog food. I've been making it for my dogs for more than thirty years, since our first dogs ... Rosey and Lightfoot (Golden Retrievers) ... lived with us. There a thousand variations on a theme, but this will get you started. By the way, all three of my dogs weigh over 50 pounds, so living as long as they have is something I attribute to good food, exercise and fresh air and love...lots of that! Rosey lived to be fourteen. Lightfoot lived to be sixteen too.

NANCY'S BEST HOMEMADE DOGFOOD

1. Things you'll need : one big old fashioned canning pot with a lid, the kind that is dark blue with white spots. I bought mine at a garage sale. About sixteen 1 quart containers that can be frozen. I reuse yogurt containers. They'll last for quite a while and since we eat lots of yogurt, there's a never ending supply of them around here. A big soup ladle and a big slotted spoon. It's going to take several hours of cooking to make this, although you won't have to be there to attend to it much. So this is one of those "take the time it takes" projects. It will make enough for about two weeks depending on the kind of dogs you have and how much they eat.

2. Things to buy at the store : one large chicken or two smaller chickens (variations: two big packs of chicken thighs, two halves of a salmon. I get those when they're on sale for being almost too old. A smallish turkey when it's on sale at Thanksgiving time.) 2 or 3 two pound packages of whole brown rice, 3 to 5 packages of whole wheat egg noodles. I also keep on hand sea weed, sea salt, garlic, and whatever left over vegetables we have in the fridge (green beans, green peas, carrots, sweet potatoes, zucchini...you get the picture)

3. Fill the canning pot with water. While it's filling, put in the chicken...the whole thing. Later you'll fish out the biggest bones to grind in a blender if your dogs are old. But it will cook for so long that the bones are going to be pretty mushy, so it probably won't be a big deal if you don't grind them. I do for my guys. You're going to fill it up to the bottom of the ledge, about 3 inches below the rim. Put it on top of the stove and turn it up high to get it boiling. When it's boiling, turn it down to medium and put the lid on.

It's going to boil for about 3 to 4 hours. You might have to add water to bring it back up to the ledge again part way through. The idea is to make a really rich broth.

4. About 2 to 3 hours into the process, add several chopped up carrots, a couple of chopped sweet potatoes, a couple of handfuls of either peas or green beans, lots of chopped garlic or dried garlic (helps to keep fleas and ticks off), a couple of handfuls of dried, shredded sea weed, a tbls or 2 or 3 of sea salt. It's a big pot. Put the lid back on and let it continue to simmer/boil for another hour or so.

5. After it's thoroughly cooked and the broth is rich and greasy, take your slotted spoon and use it to break up the meat into small pieces. It will be so soft, it should pretty much just fall apart. Then add your brown rice and whole wheat egg noodles. Give it a real good stir, turn off the heat, put the lid on and leave it for a half an hour. Come back and stir it again really well then(the rice will fall to the bottom. You want it mixed up.) put the lid on and leave it again. In another half hour, come back to stir it again.

By now the whole pot will be full to the brim. Stir it again and put the lid on, leaving it for at least another half an hour. I repeat this several times, at least four.

6. Fill your containers...it's going to be hot, so be careful... to within 1 inch of the top, snap on the lids and freeze until you're ready to use. I get out one container every evening and let it thaw overnight.

I add this to an equal amount of really expensive, no grains added, kibble about half and half. It's called Origens (Orijens?). Gosh awful expensive stuff, but they thrive on it. My fifty pound dogs get 1/2 cup kibble mixed with about 1/2 cup of their homemade food morning and evening.

The dog bowls around here are licked clean every time they have a meal. I vary ingredients every time I make this stuff, so it's always different for them. Your dogs are going to absolutely adore you for making this for them. It's good for filling teen-aged boys too, but that's another story!

I am ever yours, Nancy, surrounded by happy snoring dogs, all smiling in their sleep

PENNY, SUN AND SNICKERDOODLES

My Grandfather was the one who brought me to horses. He had a farm in the next county over from where we live now...a family homestead that was started in 1860 by his Grandfather. My Grandpa managed to keep his family land through the Depression with the help of a pair of Belgian Draft horses. When others around him were loosing their farms because of debt, he had put away his machinery and went back to farming the way he did when he was a boy, without tractors and without assistance from any banks.

Years later, when I was just four years old, I met them. Instead of sending them to auction the way most farmers do when an animal can no longer work, he retired them. I can still remember him telling me that they had become his friends and that no man would give up on his friends.

They were old, but still glossy with health and, from my point of view, great lovely mountains of golden hair and muscle with huge brown eyes, who saw me. I've always valued that in all of the animals that I've lived with. They have no pretensions, never lie. They see people as they are, not as people like to think they are. They could see me even though I was only four years old and small too boot.

I had a lot of cousins, as did most of us Boomers. We all took turns staying with Grandma and Grandpa in the Summer. And, when we were old enough, then we got to go out to the farm to help with REAL chores. It's one of my earliest memories, that ride out to the farm with my Grandpa. We drove out in his old farm truck with horrible, hard bench seats. The truck bounced all over the road and I was pretty bruised up by the time we got there, but there was no way I was going to complain. I was the only little girl in a family of boys. If they could take it, I could too. And I was so proud!

I had on my first real pair of overalls and a beat up, tiny cowboy hat that all the boy cousins had worn before me, to keep off the sun. I had a real lunch box with sandwiches, apples, carrots and cookies in it made just for me. I had work boots that had been mended and mended and my very own, real work gloves that no one else had ever used. Grandma had bought them for me.

Before we left, Grandma made it clear that Grandpa was not to let me anywhere near the hog pens. I was precious cargo. Grandpa just smiled, kissed her on the cheek and swung me up onto the seat beside him. I was going through a right of passage and he was going to make a "man" of me.

I've gone back to find the homestead. The land belongs to another family now. My Grandpa sold it in the late sixties because his sons had fought over who would inherit it. He was mad, so he sold it and spent the money before he died. I was the only one that cried when he told them. I was in high school by then. I'd loved that old farm and now it was gone. When we drove out to see it a few years ago, the house was gone and the barn and other outbuildings had fallen in from disrepair. I knew I wasn't supposed to go on to the property, but I climbed the fences and trespassed anyway. I had to go see the inside of the barn where I'd helped to take care of Penny and Sun, my first horses.

It was still the same to me. I didn't see the collapsed building. I saw my Grandfather's barn, huge and red with the sun coming up behind it, like a cathedral. When we went inside that first day, we were greeted by Penny and Sun. Grandpa did the same thing with his horses that I do today. The doors were left open and the stalls were for them to come and go from at liberty. They had the run of the farm.

They called to my Grandad and he waited for them to come to him. They looked just about as big as the mountains I described them as, and they smelled so good! I don't know which one of them it was who leaned down to look at me, but she was very gentle, exchanging breath with me and touching me on the top of my head with her great huge nose. I was in love! It was like the Gods had come down to me. I felt like a Princess in a fairy tale, anointed with slobber and grass.

My first chore was to clean and fill their water trough while he gave them grain and fresh hay. I took my job very seriously. I was now a farmer and had a job to do. I still remember reaching out the first time to touch one of them when they came to my spanking clean water trough to drink water. Her hooves were huge, bigger than Grandma's blue and white dinner plates. And her legs were like tree trunks to me, only warm and sweet smelling. She stood quietly while I ran my hands down her legs. I guess she knew I was "precious cargo" too, because my Grandpa came to get me for more chores and found me sitting between her front hooves, hugging her.

I worked hard that day. I brought in eggs and cleaned out the chicken house. I came to the not too surprising conclusion that chickens were funny and kind of pretty, but I didn't care much for the way their house smelled. And I also helped to pick caterpillars off the tomato plants. They didn't have a name for it then, but now my Grandpa would have been called an Organic Farmer. He never saw any use for chemicals when the animals provided everything he needed for his fields. It was much cheaper to pick caterpillars than to spray them, especially when he had helpers as willing as me!

When we stopped for lunch, Grandpa told me that it was OK to share with Penny and Sun if I wanted to. I asked him if they like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches too. He said " No. But they do like carrots and apples. You can give them each a bite if you want to. They've earned all the carrots they ask for, for the rest of their lives." So he handed me his pocket knife, a treasure I had never been allowed to touch before, and showed me how to open it and how to cut the carrots in to pieces for them. It was a knife that he made. One of my brothers has it now.

I stood there with those great, lovely horses eating all of my lunch from my hands. It turns out that horses do like peanut butter and grape jelly sandwiches because they ate that too. Grandpa shared his lunch with me and I shared mine with the horses. It was the beginning of a love affair and he knew it.

They're all gone now, but just for a moment when I stood there in the shadow of that fallen in barn, I could feel a touch on the top of my head. They remembered me too.

Today I'm going to share my Grandma's recipe for Snickerdoodles. Those were the cookies she always made for me to take when we went to the farm to see Penny and Sun, my first horses. They liked the Snickerdoodles too.

GRANDMA'S SNICKERDOODLES

1. Mix together thoroughly : 2 sticks softened, real butter (Grandma used lard), 1 and 1/2 cups sugar, 2 big, fresh country eggs. I sometimes substitute demera or turbinado sugar for Grandma's white sugar. Gives them a slightly crisper texture and a deeper caramel taste.

2. Add : 2 and 3/4 cups flour. Grandma used white flour. I use unbleached and, sometimes, make it 1 cup whole oat and 1 and 3/4 cup unbleached. Gives it a slightly nutty flavor to compliment the caramel taste of the darker sugar. 2 tsp. Cream of tartar, 1 tsp baking soda and 1/2 tsp sea salt. It you use the whole oat flour, again be gentle with the mixing. It's going to make a sticky dough.

3. Chill the dough for several hours. Nice part about this is you can make the dough a day ahead if you want to. Grandma always kept some in the refrigerator so she could make hot, fresh cookies when we came to visit.

4. Mix up some cinnamon and sugar in a wide, flat bowl (about 4 tbls sugar and 2 tsp cinnamon). Roll the dough in to small walnut sized rounds and roll in the sugar. Place on an ungreased cookie sheet about 2 inches apart and cook for 8 to 10 minutes at 400 degrees. In my oven they take about 8 and 1/2 minutes. The cookies will be light brown and kind of puffy looking when you take them out, but will get crinkly on top as they cool.

5. Serve hot from the oven with cold milk or hot tea to dunk them in. If you're trying to sell your house, bake these right before you have someone come to look at the house. Works every time! Nothing like the smell of hot, fresh snickerdoodles to make a place smell like home.

I am, ever yours, Nancy, smiling and remembering shining golden horses and the beginning of a life long love affair.

WIND, COOKIES AND COYOTES

Wind...wind...wind. It's been rockin' and rollin' here today in OZ. Winds have been thirty to fifty miles an hour all day long, no let up at all. That's Kansas. I love it when it's calm, but I think I might get bored living in a climate where it rarely blows.

I wanted to play with Lucky today, but it's kind of hard to do when my coat keeps blowing up over my head and my hat comes off. So we opted on letting them OUTSIDE (I use caps to write it that way because it's so exciting for the horses when we do that. I put up ropes to keep them away from the drive and the road and let them OUTSIDE the fences...where the grass is always greener.). Generally, on a windy day, they don't go too far from the barn. Things are banging and flopping around. Trees are thrashing and there's tiny white caps on the ponds. Lots of changes for them to deal with. Today was no exception.

Every time the wind would gust and something would flap or whap, in they'd come to check with me. "How about it Ma? Everything OK? You still on look out?" I'd stop whatever I'm doing, rub whithers and breath deep, smile at them and say " It's alright. I've got your back." I love the response I get. Lucky usually takes a deep breath, licks a little and goes back to eating. Apache sighs and sometimes nickers to me in his lovely, deep base voice and then goes back out to move Willow around. I think he's probably one of those horses the cowboys around here would say has a lot of cow in him. Parelli people would say he's a Left Brain Extrovert who loves to move himself and loves to play games.

After chores I went out with the camera to see if I could get any good shots of them. I love it when the wind is blowing. Their manes and tails are always flying up in the air. It makes them look so dramatic. I call those type of photos "bodice rippers" ... kind of Gothic and romantic. My guys are so mellow most of the time now that dramatic photography is not the norm. Usually they spend most of their time grazing, grooming each other, rolling in the mud at the edge of the pond and sleeping in the sun. Not a bad life!

When I went out, they did too. It's easier to be brave when all the herd members are out together. All of us, John and Apache, Lucky, Willow and myself walked down the path and out into the tall grasses. The colors were beautiful today! The grass heads are all that early Winter deep golden brown and orange with some areas verging on purple. As the Winter goes on they'll fade until it's all silvers and faded browns in February. I don't think I've gone out my front door even one time since we moved out here without looking around me in awe. It changes from day to day and sometimes from hour to hour. For the first time I understand Andrew Wyeth's quote " I think I could paint a hill every day of my life."

We walked around, stood around, sat around and turned around that East pasture of ours for a good hour. I did take pictures...lots and lots of pictures. But I still can't post them yet, unfortunately. I've bought my new photo shop program, but it's in the mail and won't be here until next week. It's another lesson in patience for me, something I'm not always very good at. But here's the exciting part for me. I've learned to just hang out with my horses on their time line, matching their energy and going where they want to go. John's getting the hang of it too. It's amazing how much it relaxes you when you do nothing except just be. I highly recommend it to everyone as often as they can. Just between you and me, you don't really need a horse to do it either (although I think they enhance the experience for me in ways I don't have words for.).

#5 TIME, 7 Keys to Success and #2 RESPECT, Qualities of a Horseman

Since it's been a mellow, albeit windy, day I thought I would share my all time favorite Chocolate Chip Cookie recipe with you. They're great with a mug of hot tea on crisp, cold, November days.

NANCY'S SUPER DUPER EXTRA SPECIAL CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES

1. Heat your oven to 375 degrees, set out your cookie racks for cooling and butter your cookie sheets (I use the paper from the sticks of butter. There's just enough butter left to grease up one sheet perfectly.)

2. Mix together with a fork : 2 sticks real butter, 3/4 cup turbinado OR demera sugar (organic if possible) , 3/4 cup dark brown sugar, 1 tsp sea salt until nice and creamy.

3. Add to that mixture 2 nice big, rich country eggs and a tsp or 2 of real vanilla and beat it until it's fluffy.

4. To that add : 1 and 1/4 cup whole wheat flour and 1 cup whole oat flour OR 1 cup unbleached flour, 1 tsp baking soda and mix it in SOFTLY, GENTLY just until moistened. If you've read any of my other recipes, than you've already heard me say that you have to be gentle with whole grain flours or the cookies get tough and dry pretty quickly. If you "put your heart in your hands", then you're doing things right.

5. Add a bag of chocolate chips (about two cups), and if you're feeling fancy add some chopped nuts (a couple of handfuls) and maybe some chopped candied ginger, the real deal (again, try to buy organic if you can) Mix gently until things are folded in nicely.

6. Use a teaspoon to dip out generous portions on your cookie sheet, placing them a good inch or two apart so the cookies won't spread in to each other while baking. The mounds should be about the size of a large walnut.

7. Cook for 8 to 10 minutes according to your oven. In my oven it takes nine minutes. Your cookies should be a rich, deep, golden brown. I cook one sheet at a time, but if you have a convection oven you can do two sheets at a time.

8. Slide the cookies off the sheet right away on to your racks to cool, after you take them out of the oven (duh Nancy!). Be prepared to have legions of hungry children and spouses knocking each other out of the way to get to the first ones. They're delicious any time, but in the "totally awesome" category when they're hot from the oven. Oh, and if you have a half coyote/half dog living with you, DON'T LEAVE THEM UNATTENDED. You'll come back to find absolutely nothing left on the counter...every crumb licked off along with spoons, bowls, cookie sheets and spatula. And you'll clean up the aftermath for two days afterwards too!

Today is my youngest son's birthday. These were his favorites when he was a boy...and a man too! HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEN!

It's almost December. I love this time of year! Enjoy the cookies and pass the recipe on. It's meant to be shared.

I am ever yours, Nancy, smiling REALLY BIG TIME, mellowed out on horses and chocolate.

LAUGHTER AND BISCUITS

I love the little room I have set up here as my 'office'. There's a set of double sliding glass doors looking out to the west right next to my desk, so I never feel closed in or claustrophobic. I have two walls that my desk snugs in to in an L shape with cork board that I've attached to the walls (but not without some very funny accidents with things falling down, since I cheaped out on the system to get them up there. )up above the desk. I use those to hang whatever Patterns chart I'm working on filling with Lucky and Apache, things that inspire me to paint or write, old photos, and usually a piece of work that I've finished...I think. Sometimes I have to stare at something for a while to be able to let it go later.

It's my Comfort Zone. My dream is to have the fencing changed so the side of the house is included in that pasture. My herd could come right up to the door and step in for a visit, if they wanted to. We live in an old converted barn, so it's not like horses, goats, cattle, chickens, swallows, barn cats and dogs haven't been in here in years past! I like the idea of retro fitting it to take it back a bit to what it was before.

One of my favorite design projects several years back was for a local Veterinarian and her family. They'd rebuilt the inside of their barn, putting in these amazing cedar lined stalls and an apartment that was also lined with cedar, a lot of it harvested from their property. The only changes I made to it were some windows where old loft doors used to be, up above in the old hay loft, now their apartment, and nice big run-outs for the horses. And then I put in some of the fancy, shmancy stuff like furniture, light fixtures and tile work in the bath and kitchen. It was hard to leave that project. I was in love with the place and in love with the horses too (you knew I was going to say that, didn't you?). It was their Comfort Zone. Later it was their daughter's apartment when she came home from college in the Summers. It was my idea of heaven!

Do you remember the old Level Two packs with the book, "MOVE CLOSER, STAY LONGER" by Dr. Stephanie Burns, included in it? In both the Level One pack and the Level Two pack from that series they talk about the COMFORT ZONE. The idea is that you're not really learning until you push yourself, just a bit, outside your Comfort Zone. It's one of those things I use on myself all the time. I do my own Approach and Retreat when I move in to new territory. John, my lovely patient husband, is my simulation partner. He becomes my 'horse' or I become his 'horse' when I need to learn a new Pattern or how to use a new piece of equipment. Right now we're learning a WHOLE lot about how to get tangled up in a 45 foot line! Sooner or later that will translate in to actually working with Lucky, but not until I've got things as tattooed as possible to the back of my eyelids. (At this point I could say something funny about getting tangled with John, but this is not supposed to be a kinky BLOG, so I'll skip over that part. *big grin here* )

I get being outside the Comfort Zone. I've spent most of my adult life like that. It's part of my work ethic as an artist and designer. I learn new techniques, practice them, then I let it go and experiment. The rules go out the window and I turn off the 'thinker' side of myself and make mistakes, trip around, get tangled and untangled. That's when I find the flow. (See why I say I was 'Parelli' before I was Parelli?) I do the same thing with Lucky and when it works, time moves differently, and so do Lucky and I. We dance! It's not always that perfect, but now I laugh even when it isn't. And, at the risk of sounding like I'm anthropomorphizing here, so does he! 7 KEYS TO SUCCESS, # 1. ATTITUDE and # 6. IMAGINATION Funny how that happens.

With that in mind, I'm going to give you one of my favorite biscuit recipes. It's taken a lot of experimenting and hockey puck like biscuits to get this one down, so it's your chance to go outside the Comfort Zone when you try them too. Don't worry if they don't work the first time you use this recipe. Your dog will absolutely love them too! And if I get the instructions written clearly enough for you, they'll come out light and flaky. What does Pat Parelli say? You'll amaze your friends and blow the socks off your relatives? I think I need to go look that one up again. I love learning good quotes.

NANCY'S OH LA LA LIGHT AND FLAKY BISCUITS

1. Heat your oven to 450 degrees...really hot!

2. Mix the dry stuff together with a spoon or fork. Use your favorite ceramic bowl, the one your Grandma used to use.

DRY STUFF: 1 cup whole wheat flour, 1 cup whole oat flour (Here's where you can experiment. You can also use 1 cup unbleached OR make it 2 cups of whole wheat instead OR use 1/4 to 1/2 cup coconut flour in place of some of the whole oat or unbleached OR add in 1/4 to 1/2 cup soy flour, same as before...you get the idea! All it has to do is to equal two cups.), 3 tsp's baking powder, 1/2 tsp salt I should mention here that, if you can, use all organic ingredients. It really does make a difference in the flavor and it never hurts to keep the chemicals out of your diet.

3. Cut in 1/2 cup REAL butter until it's pea sized pieces. The butter can be not quite room temperature...a little cold is OK. You can use it straight from the fridge, but it's a bit more work if you do. Use a pastry cutter or two knives or rub it gently between your hands. When I'm feeling particularly are-tees-tic and flamboyant, I use my hands, but make sure you take off your rings...another funny, family story. 1/2 cup butter is one stick. (Forgot to tell you, these are really rich!)

4. Make a well in the center of your buttered flours and crack open two rich, organic, country eggs and add 1/2 cup whole milk. Carefully, GENTLY, break and mix that mixture INSIDE the well and then CAREFULLY, GENTLY mix it in to the flour and butter just until it's moistened. This is the tricky part because you're working all with whole grains. If you mix to much, it turns in to hockey pucks when you cook it. (And, whatever you do, don't brag about these biscuits when your Mother in Law is visiting. That's a sure road to failure, but it also makes for a very funny family story years later.)

5. Gently, carefully, roll or pat with your hands, the sticky dough out onto a floured surface and knead it, folding it over BUT NOT PUNCHING it, just five to ten times. Then roll or spread it out with your hands, about 1/2 to 3/4 inch thick, and cut it with a biscuit cutter. You'll get between 8 and 12 biscuits. You can take the last wee bit of dough and shape it into a biscuit with your hands, but be gentle. Make believe you're running your hands down your horses neck. Put your heart in to your hands!

6. Place on an ungreased cookie sheet and bake for about 8 to 10 minutes, depending on your stove. They should come out between an inch and an inch and a half high, light and flaky.

7. Serve them HOT...right away. I promise you, there will be no left overs when you serve these at breakfast. They're excellent with sausage gravy or jelly and butter.

Variations on a theme. Add some sugar (I use Demera or Turbinado , organic), about 1/4 to 1/2 cup in to the dry stuff. It makes wonderful short cake for Strawberries and Shortcake. You'll have to experiment with this. Just remember to be gentle, easy, when working with whole grain flours. If you "put your heart into your hands", you'll get it right!

I am ever yours, Nancy, outside the Comfort Zone, laughing!

PS. I'm buying a new photo program today, so photos will be posted as soon as I get how to use it...tattooed to the back of my eyelids!

PATTERNS AND RECIPES (and don't forget the wiffle)

Yesterday, while at a Thanksgiving celebration at my brother's house, I started thinking about patterns. I've been watching the Patterns discs again, getting ready to start back up with Lucky. When I can't move forward with him, I move forward in myself. Later that translates back to moving with him again, kind of like a dance. Practice, then practice again. After that throw out the rules and do what comes natural. But I wanted to talk about Patterns. (Don't worry. I'll connect all of this later.)

Patterns repeat themselves through the generations. Sooner or later you find yourself saying and doing some of the same things your parents did. " I can't believe I just said that! I sound like my Mother." And we always say that with shock too, don't we? I know I did. I can still remember looking at my hand holding on to my son's hand and remembering what it was like when I was little and had such confidence in my Mom when she led me. The world was big, but she was bigger, so I always felt safe. And then there I was, a young Mom without my Mom to help. She was dead, much too soon in her life, and I was alone without her. So, I repeated the Pattern that I remembered. I tried to be bigger than the world was.

I've been telling friends for years now that I was "Parelli" before I found Parelli. That's why it resonates so well for me. Pat and Linda Parelli have created a systematic approach to working with horses in a sane, thoughtful, positive way. They practice what they "preach" too. The "talk" and the "walk" match. The dignity of the horse is carefully preserved and protected, as well as the human. Between you and me, I hope this is one of those Patterns that begins to bleed over in to the rest of the world too. I know it's integrated in to the other parts of my life. More Patterns. See how this works?

There are bad Patterns too. I watched my brother with his younger son, yesterday, and saw some of the behaviors that I saw with him and my Mom (I'm the oldest sibling in my family). But I've also watched him repeat a Pattern with his oldest son that is exactly like the one he had with our Father. He has rejected his son and our Father had rejected him at the same age! It's frightening when you see things like that start over a generation later. And it's sad too. It's one of those situations where I don't know whether to say anything or not, so I choose not (for now anyway). It must be something they have to work out during this lifetime. My impulse is to bonk him up side the head though. BONK...BONK! "Can't you see what you're doing? Be "bigger than the world" and take the first steps back to healing this."

Sometimes I teach the wrong Pattern to Lucky too. For a while he learned that he could pull out of my hands, so he did. He didn't go anywhere. In fact, he always came back to me. But it was still a form of bolting. It was dominate behavior that had to be curbed. It took a while too, trying to untangle things and find out where I made the mess. It wasn't his...it was mine. I made it with poor timing, a goal oriented attitude and by putting myself and my timeline first. He made it very clear that I was no longer his ideal leader. Oh boy. That one hurt.

So, I tried to be "bigger than the world" with him. I wanted his confidence and respect and regard back and I had to earn it too. It took a thousand baby steps to get us back together again. Which brings me back around to making my own Patterns in the world that are worth repeating. If I remember to place another's dignity in front of me, reminding myself to preserve it and to show respect to their feelings and ideas, it becomes easier for me to be a partner that others want to be with.

With that in mind, I've decided to start a new Pattern. I've been trying to think of a way to share gifts with my friends without proselytizing or spending money. It is the season for giving, and I always feel good when I have a gift for friends. I'm going to write everyday on my BLOG from now until the end of the year. And I'm going to put one of my favorite recipes on here. I love to cook. It's one of those things I do to "go to the zone". It relaxes me and rewards me at the same time. I love to watch people eat my food and really enjoy it, spending time together talking and laughing while we eat. It's always a win-win situation for me.

Since I can't be with everyone, I can at least share the recipes. And since it's a BLOG, it's easy for people to read or ignore. It's even less intrusive than email is. I love that! It becomes a kind of accidental gift. People happen in to it, try a recipe if they want to and I get to share. Sounds like a winning Pattern to me!

I'm going to start with my favorite muffin recipe. It's easy, fast and packed with real food. I cook with whole grains and unprocessed foods, all organic unless there isn't any other choice. It's a recipe that you can change too, using other types of flours and extra ingredients (like fruits and nuts, spices and so on). In other words, NOW you get to throw out the rules and be creative. And don't forget to put the "wiffle" in them. The "wiffle" is all the good things you think about while you cook. If you add love, the energy becomes an important ingredient, making the food even better.

WIFFLE MUFFINS ALA NANCY

1. Heat your oven to 400 degrees F.

2. Grease your muffin tins with olive oil. ( I always use Organic First Press Olive Oil)

3. Get out your favorite mixing bowl and mix all the wet stuff together, beating it lightly.

Wet stuff : 1/4 cup olive oil, 1 fresh organic farm egg, 1 and 1/2 cups whole milk (We buy ours from a local dairy in a big glass bottle. It always has a cream plug at the top...the real deal.), 1/4 to 1/2 cup honey (again, if you can, buy local unfiltered honey)

4. Add the dry stuff and GENTLY mix it together. The secret of cooking with whole grains is to mix it just enough, not too much, more like folding it in. If you mix it too hard or to thoroughly it gets tough.

Dry stuff : 1 cup whole wheat flour (we buy ours from a Great Harvest Bakery. They mill it for you while you wait! Awesome flour. Tastes like nuts, sort of.), 1 cup whole oat flour, 1/2 tsp salt (I've been experimenting with fresh ground pink sea salt from the Himalaya's), 2 tsp's of baking powder, a couple of handfuls of dried fruit (I like raisins, cranberries, dried apricots, dried pears) and another couple of handfuls of nuts (pecans or walnuts are nice, raw) and, if you want to, add some ginger or cinnamon, nutmeg or vanilla.

5. Ladle it into your muffin tins right away and pop it into the oven. They should take about 20 minutes to cook. A muffin stirred just right and cooked without moving it around or opening the oven should have a peak in the middle, like a tiny mountain.

6. Take a knife and run it around the edge of the muffin cups and pop the muffins up on their sides, then carefully put them in to a basket lined with an old, clean cloth napkin or flour sacking.

7. Serve it with lots of REAL butter (organic, of course) and your favorite jelly, jam or honey and a pot of hot tea!

Experiment. Have fun. and I'll be there with you, in my heart, enjoying too.

I am ever yours, Nancy, smiling with muffin crumbs around my mouth and jelly on my fingers