October 26, 2004

Dentist

Today Castor had a dentist appointment. Let me tell you how this works. First, you stand in the box to hold the horse calm for the treatment. Then, the dentist fixes a brace over the muzzle of the horse, picks up a gigantic rasp (handyman style XXL) out of a bucket of disinfected water, sticks his hand and lower arm in the horse's mouth and starts filing away. After this rasping session, he then puts his hand in again, checks that the teeth are smooth and then picks out old pieces of munched hay that get stuck like Juicy Fruit between the teeth and the back cavity of the mouth.



Avanti, a wise old gelding in the box near Castor, had a tooth pulled. More or less the same procedure.

Castor has a good dentist. He charges more than mine does.

October 25, 2004

Hard work and Caetano Veloso

As advertised, we took the trip back. It's always a bore. You sit scrunched between 176 other people and there is a law that says that you always end up either right next to the smelly john at the back of the plane or right in front of a corpulent lady who is making the last leg of trip from Australia, who of course hasn't washed her feet in the meantime, and who feels an incontrollable urge to remove her shoes, whereupon she places her feet on the arm rest about 8 inches from your nose. Attempts to nudge her foot (o-o-o-h-h-h-) with your elbow is like punching a stone.

Anyway, you get there. You don't bend down and kiss the tarmac after getting off the plane, but it sure feels good. Everytime.

Minneapolis

Back here to help move Flora from her apartment to assisted living (= euphemism). Lots of hard work. Like what to do in three days time with a large oak porcelain cabinet worth gobs of money and which no one wants. Finally a charity took it for placement in immigrant homes. Much better than selling it to some old busybody in the apartment complex for a pittance.

For some strange reason, food doesn't taste quite as good this time around. Yoghurt is creamier and of course there are English muffins, not to speak of Rocky Road, Oreos, Grape Nuts, creamed squash, pecan pie. I take it back. No, not as far as the coffee is concerned. How a vibrant society can imbibe such dishwater, I'll never be able to figure out.

Sis was here too. She's a lawyer from down south now. I tell her it's amusing having a redneck in the family and she's not amused.

New York

First night here we met Gabe and his girlfriend, Carmen, and went to a fantastic concert with Caetano Veloso, whom I am ashamed to say I had never heard of (Sorry, all of you 50 million Brazilians out there). What presence, what talent, what stamina. We soon got three records by him and I now have them tucked away in my MP3-player.

Rest of the time was spent visiting, eating out. Damn, New York is expensive! Went to the Metropolitan Museum one day and saw some mummies.

We stayed in the International House - which is where Gabe and Carmen stay while they're studying film directing and photography. Cool place, not at all like you would find in Sweden where everything has to be modern, antiseptic and square. This building was built in the twenties (?) and is enormous, run down and cosy. Complete with a gym, study rooms, dining hall, lecture halls, apartments and divers cockroaches. No problem. The I-House has an official exterminator. Memories go back to my own younger years and the kind of cute sound they used to make when you shook the box of cornflakes. I never had an exterminator to call.

October 13, 2004

Big trip

Going back for a well-needed vacation. It's always a big trip. Even though nowadays it only takes 5-6 hours in the air, the time spent in airports, changing planes etc makes it twice as long. Not to mention the sometimes arrogant welcome you get from US immigration. They should take a charm course.

If people in the States only knew the bad reputation the US is getting abroad by making the so called war on terror an excuse for infringing on the constitutional rights of American citizens - and making foreigners feel unwelcome. It's political correctness in Texan atire.

The upcoming election is supposed to be the most important ever. Can someone tell me why, in the 21st century, that citizens in the United States still have to "register" to vote? How many less than middle class citizens are motivated by the bureaucracy involved? And why oh why is the current election concerned with who-cares-about subjects like which politician did what 30 years ago? In case people haven't noticed, we all change and mature...

I'm still vehemently proud to be an American. I just wish the crappy sides of my country and its politics were a little less protusive sometimes.

October 11, 2004

It's cold up here

This country (Sweden) is wierd. Last week it was +15 degrees Celsius and today when I left the stable it was -2. Oh, how I long for decent climate like in Nashville or in Minneapolis or in the Hague. But the chill has an envigorating effect - like eating ice cream too quickly. First it hurts, then it hurts more. Then it feels so good that it stopped hurting and you get used to it. That's what it's like when you get into the manege and start jumping at sub-zero temperatures. By the way, horses love cold weather. It's like shifting gears and initiating a turbo you didn't know was installed.

Gabriel, my son, is a new citizen in New York and enjoying his surroundings despite the cockroaches in his cornflakes. What worries him though is the company of exchange students in his school from various un-cool countries in Asia Minor, students who are so enthralled by the sense of capitalistic freedom that they endager the lives of themselves and others by climbing up lamp posts at 2 AM in the company of their fellow students screaming "I love America, ha ha ha" and shadow boxing with big, tall and unfunny strangers on the street, deep in heart of Harlem.

Being un-cool in an American city is not good.

October 04, 2004

Back in the saddle again

Did a good series of hurdles this evening! Your whole body feels like you've really done something worthwhile. Castor was in fine shape, and as always, with enough energy for 4 horses...

I really think that never learning to jump is paramount to missing out on a colossal part of life. No matter how you feel ahead of time - crummy, tired, overworked, lazy, etc, etc, life is at the top when you're finished - even if you sometimes don't do a good job of it. It's carrying it through that gives you the kick.

I'm typing and eating a piece of my fresh sourdough bread. Now that's something else most people have missed out on. Pity.

Life is good.

October 03, 2004

Sunday bike ride

Foot-loose and fancy-free. well, not really. Took a bike ride in the cemetery. Cold and rainy, but nice anyway. C is studying Italian and I've got a batch of sourdough bread rising - 3 gorgeous loaves. Wonderful to hold when they're warm. Like big breasts.



 Posted by Hello

October 02, 2004

Castor in the field


Castor in the Field Posted by Hello

Still going strong

After a somewhat serious concussion from an unfortunate and unnecessary jumping incident I'm back in the saddle again. It's all part of the game. Ah, the smell of horse manure and the sound of satisfied geldings and mares when they realize that the oats are on the way.. It is music that a serious composer - or for that matter a fledgling and aspiring film director should do something about. Try to put into harmonic form the grunts, whinnies and shriks that fill the air in the stable at feeding time.

Or put the drama of it all into an art film.

Now why don't I know someone that could do that? And if I did, would he DARE?