THE DAY TONKA CAME HOME

It was my 23rd birthday, my second borns 1st birthday and one week after I had met Tonka for the first time. 

The full size pick up truck pulled a trailer big enough for the thoroughbreds that Fast Tonka had been sharing a life with. 

His mini whinny echoed in the trailer as the rig rolled into the yard. 

Cody and Mounty called out in response to the new arrival. The drumming of 8 tiny hooves kept the beat as the chorus of mini whinnies filled the air. 

Tonka called back from the tailer in excitement as I opened the side door and made my way in to visit the new addition to the herd. 

Tears were running down his cheeks. I could tell he he was unsure about leaving the home that he had known for years. 

He was handed to me with a stud chain woven into his halter and a warning that I might need it. A warning that I disregarded as I unloaded the 300 pound copper coloured pony.

My one year old baby waited patiently in the stroller for me as I escorted our birthday present off the trailer and brought him over for the two of them to meet. 
There is something to be said about the lifespan of a pony and raising a child. 

That day as the two of them met I couldn’t imagine the life we had in front of us. Nor did I imagine that when that child was grown and gone that this little pony would still be there going strong by my side. A rock during every hardship in our 20 years together. 

I took the lead and looked at the tiny pony. Tears still rolling down his cheek as he whinnied in confusion looking for the friends he had left behind. 

He jumped out of the trailer and pulled me towards the paddock where his new friends were waiting. 

He was strong, maybe a little stronger than I had anticipated. The stud chain I was warned to use suddenly made sense. 

He met Cody and Mounty at the fence of the mini paddock where the 3 geldings met for the first time. 

This was the only time in my life that I would have a herd of tiny horses and they did not disappoint. 

MEETING TONKA

 

Meeting Tonka

"You have to buy my pony", she said to me.

"I can't afford to buy another pony." I told her.

"You can trade me for dog grooming", she replied dismissing my most recent rejection. It wasn't the first time she had asked me to buy her pony, and it wasn't the first time I said no.

There were two Tonka's on her farm. Old Tonka and Fast Tonka. Fast Tonka, was a 9 year old Shetland pony crossed with a mini. He was fast, strong, and needed a home that would him to work. I loved working small ponies so I was a good fit for him, but was he a good fit for me?

Finally I agreed to go meet him, and drove out to her farm on sunny afternoon the week before my 23rd birthday.

The boards of paddock fence ran parallel to the long driveway. It was easy to see how he could crawl between boards and help himself to what ever side of the fence he felt the grass was greener.

Standing a whole 10 hands high, his copper colored coat glistened in the sunshine, his flaxen main was thick and full. He looked very much like a Shetland pony on smaller.

I already had a Shetland pony I thought to myself as a looked the little pony up and down. There was no way I was going to be able to drive him in a team with either the ponies. That would leave me with 3 different sized small ponies and no team.

Deciding to test the little pony's temperament anyway, I caught him and put brought out the harness. It was the small black nylon harness I had been using on my mini Cody, and the first harness I ever bought.

Fast Tonka hadn't been handled much but he was easy enough for me to catch. I slid the halter onto his nose, bending over to accommodate his short stature. Then I did up the the buckle behind his ear.

Dropping the rope on the ground I simply expected him to ground tie despite knowing he had never been ground tied before. He took to it well and stood, mostly I think out of confusion and curiosity.

He allowed me to continue putting on the pieces of the harness. There was no fussing or flinching when I did up the cinch only a little tail clamping when the shock of a cold crupper brushed against the sensitive skin under his tail.

Pressing my thumb and forefinger into the corners of his mouth I asked him to take the bit, he did so without hesitation, and allowed me slip on the rest of the bridle.

Nothing seemed to phase him, not even the blinders.

He had exceeded my expectations. There was no fussing or objection, just curiosity.

Attaching the lines to the bit I decided to see how far curiosity would take us. This little pony had never experienced anything like this before. Little did we know that 20 years later we would still be playing with curiosity together.

 

This story is from the book Horses of My Life and How They Shaped Me. Want to learn more about this book? Click Here 

Dinner With the Wild

 

Dinner With the Wild 

July 12, 2023 

Salmon berries were on the menu for dinner tonight. It wasn’t so much that I didn’t want to cook, I simply didn’t really feel like eating. 

The day had been long and stressful and it was everything I could do to muster the strength to take the old man out for a walk. Tonka had sulked a little more than usual last night, even though it had been almost a month since I was able to do anything he was keeping score like ponies do. Last night should have been his turn. 

With the weight of today's stress clinging to my skin I mustered up the strength to head outside to take my pony for a walk. 

He greeted me at the gate. His copper coloured coat glistened in the sun and wind had swept his forelock to the side just perfectly. He really is a stunning pony and was looking less and less his age everyday. My mind wandered to the fantasy where his cart is welded back together and we drive off into the sunset. 

I put on his halter and we started down the driveway. The connection of a 20 year partnership sizzled comfortably between us. I thought about all the wonderful things we had done together and how grateful I was to have him in my life. 

We slowly made our way down the road where the forest opened up to the ocean. The blue sky draped over the distant mountains that were green with the rich forest. An eagle circled above the shallow waters as the tide slowly drained the inlet leaving behind a swirl of shimmering greens, blues and browns. 

Opening my ears to let the texture of the sound in I heard the calls of small birds hidden away from my sight. The grass rustling in the gentle breeze and the buzz of the horse fly that had followed us from the barn. 

Peace washed over me and ounce by ounce the weight of the day let go of the grip it had on my skin. 

A large red berry glistening in the sunlight caught my eye. I slipped it off its home on the salmonberry bush and into my mouth. It was juicy and sweet. 

Tonka took the opportunity to enjoy a sweet treat of his own. The smell of clover mixed with salt air drifted by as he blew with approval. 

We continued down the road stopping at all the berry bushes to fill both our bellies with the goodness of summer on Haida Gwaii. 

2.13 Km we walked today snacking and enjoying the wild world around us. Some of the local deer were cautious when they saw us even though they often spend time visiting the horses in the pasture.They seem to pretend they don’t know them as soon as they’re out in public. Tonka doesn’t seem nearly as bothered by the shallowness of this friendship as Punki is, so they barely acknowledged each other as we all wandered about snacking on the bounty of the season. 

One human crossed our path, I suspect this was most likely a tourist. They seemed almost shocked to see a woman with a small pony doodling down the road looking like an eccentric old lady with her giant pet. We nodded politely and went back to experiencing the nature that surrounded us. 

When we arrived back home one of the ravens was here to reluctantly greet us at the bottom of the driveway. I thought about all the wonderful animals that share their space in the world with me and the last bit of stress fell. With my belly full of berries and a happy pony we hiked back up the driveway ready to face another day tomorrow. 

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Life is Pain

The air was cold today. So cold it was hard to believe that somewhere not far from here on the continent there was summer. I could feel the polar ice caps on the northern wind, a chilling reminder of how far North we really are. 

The sky was gray and somewhat gloomy but I went about my day still high on the weekend vibes. 

By the end of the day the sky was blue and the wind had warmed a little. I was, as I usually am, grateful to be going back to Port Clements. The climate in Port Clements was milder than the one in Masset, protected on the center of the island it’s neatly nestled into the mountains. 

The grass whipped on the side of the road. The colours of stalks starting to turn, a sure sign that the season is maturing. The synchronicity of the flashing movement momentarily mesmerized me. They whipped back and forth in the cool winds with a beautiful yet simple display. I wondered if anyone else had managed to notice. 

So many of life’s simple beauty goes unnoticed as we chase our tails in the never ending race of what’s next,

What is next? I thought. 

I knew what needed to be done, what had to be done, what I wanted to do and what needed my attention the most. Unfortunately all these things were different. 

Flooded with gratitude for the work that I have put in to get where I am today I realized that if I maintained my boundaries and did my best to focus I could do most of those things. 

Brent and I had a nice dinner together, an omelet made from quail eggs we raised and spinach we grew. 

First I tackled the manure. Having been unable to use a wheelbarrow for some time now I have gotten used to my tiny buckets. My lovely horses have gotten the hang of pooping in one easy to access spot for me to pick. 

All the new poop picked up and plopped into the poop spot in the garden. I reminded myself that tonight was not the night to work on the old poop and as long as we keep up on the new poop we can chip away at the old poop as we go.  

Two weeks ago I was given the green light from my physiotherapist to work through the pain and start using my hand a little bit more. We worked together using a system with 3 gallon buckets to start slowly chipping away the neglected chores. I’m proud to say if it doesn’t rain I can carry full buckets. 

My shoulders, feet, knees, elbow and back all have their opinions of my lifestyle as well. Often I feel like I’m in constant negotiations with my body, bargaining with quality foods, supplements, rest and tools for a little more time enjoying the active lifestyle I love so much. 

The clock continued to tick on but I had just set the boundaries with the garden and I was so excited to go ride Punkin Pie I almost exploded. 

She did not share my excitement and stood in front of her feeder. You see she had grown accustomed to a certain lifestyle over the past 6 months and now that I’m able to ride properly a little bit, life isn’t all about cookies and mash. 

I put the squishy halter on her and walked her down to the mounting block. Today was my third ride on her bareback in the arena, and this time she enjoyed it. 

Tonka joined us in a short mosey around the tiny arena. The cold wind wiping off the ocean from the North made the most beautiful sound of waves crashing on the beach. 

We strolled around the arena for a while. Her and I with our matching fat rolls wobbling about as we explored this new way to connect. It was a short ride. 

I came into the house and thought about how well I had kept that boundary. Instead of running off into the sunset like I wanted to I worked on something nearly as fulfilling then came in to complete my night of work. 

There was even 10 minutes left on my horse clock so I picked up the sewing project I had been wanting to do for a while now and spent that 10 minutes carefully snipping the fabric of my new dress with scissors, a tool I hadn’t been able to use in almost 6 months. 

I sit here now, writing and working through the cornucopia of pain that tells the story of all the wonderful things I have done with my life and I am grateful for all these pains.  

*****

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Birthday Mashup

 Day 16, Take 2 

September 19 2022

It was my 42nd birthday, thankfully the weather was kind. There were periods of rain but for the most part the skies stayed gray without leaking too much water on us. Work was busy and I found that I had once again exceeded the limits of my abilities. Between Punkin choking over the weekend and the processing of salmon during the rest of the week on top of my already jammed pack chore schedule I was beyond exhausted. Even as I write this two day later I still have no idea how I made it through the day. 

Brent took me for lunch and we had the whole place to ourselves because they were closed. They had made a special lunch just for me. 

The meal was fantastic. Grilled halibut fresh caught by local fisherman topped with grilled corn and a variety of onions and peppers served with a delicious homemade hot sauce and the very best French fries in town. It was such a wonderful treat.

Day 17, Take 2 

September 30, 2022

Life had drained every last drop of what it could from me. I had allowed it to pick me up, wring me out like an old dish cloth and hang me out to dry. 

I had gone into my reserve energy when I helped Punkin clear her choking episode. I had continued to use what was left of that energy reserve to process our year's supply of salmon. Once again I had made choices that used up everything that I had and more. 

Guilt covered me in a cloak of self pity. I knew better. I should be working on getting the horses into the trailer. There’s so much work that needs to be done. I can’t be taking a day off to lie around. 

So many thoughts eating away at me. So many things I thought I should be doing but my body and mind needed a break. I knew more than anything I needed rest. 

In my first round I had learned to rest and learned the value of rest. The harvest came and with it the change of season. A feeling of urgency for the completion of things I have started during longer days seems to grow stronger as the days grow shorter. 

I have been told by many people most of my life that I can not do everything. Still refusing to believe that’s the truth I find comfort in the words of.another. “You can do everything”, she told me, “just not all at once”.  

Day 18, Take 2

October 1, 2022

A sharp pain pierced through the blackness of my deep sleep. The pressure behind my right eye filled my head and startled me awake. My stomach turned and I ran to the bathroom. 

Migraines are not my favorite way to be woken up. 

This is not fair! I don’t deserve this! I didn”t do anything to provoke this! I told myself all of this knowing it was all lies.

The weather decided to do its part to help keep me in rest mode. I watched the rain pour down off the roof of our sun room from my cozy nest on the couch. It was much easier not to feel guilty when my head was pounding. Focusing only what was going to help me recover from my headache I spent the day deeply resting. 

The weather broke around the same time my headache lifted. 

I wish there were more hours in a day. Things could get done so much faster if there were more hours in a day. Even if I only slept those extra hours I’m sure I could do more.

The horses went into the trailer happily today. All it took was their dinner served in their bowls in their spots in the trailer. They ate with the door closed. They went in and out and it went very smoothly. No drama. No fighting. No stress. Just nice and easy. Like they hadn’t missed a day since all those years ago when we traveled together all over the island.

Tomorrow we shall go for a little ride and visit the house where they will meet the vet. 

***** 

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A Fire Within a Fire Without

 Day 7, Take 2 

September 20, 2022

Still feeling a little out of sorts with my day, the first thing I did when I got home was do one more chop on Tonka’s old cart. The process of cutting through the thick steel frame rattled me. Not only physically but mentally as well. That cart had packed myself, my friends, loved ones and nearly every child that has been a part of my life for the past 19 years. One cut was all I could handle today. One cut towards my Chopper was enough to get me closer and enough to let me mourn the death of the old cart all at once. 

I went inside and the weirdness of the day followed me into the house. All I wanted to do was curl up on the couch and become one with my sorrows. 

There were so  many reasons to feel guilty for doing this but my brain had had enough already today and wasn't willing to take anymore. Even the choice as to which horse was supposed to go out tonight was too much. 

I gave my mind some space and backed off on the pressure. It was after all Brent’s birthday tomorrow and I had a cake to bake, I would start there. 

German chocolate cake with coconut pecan frosting was his cake of choice every year. I always cut the cake in two and add a can of cherry pie filling to the middle. 

The kitchen window looks out into the horse's paddock. There were branches and sticks stern about. My attempts to stack them neatly destroyed by years of hurricane force winds. I wish I could just burn them I thought to myself. 

Then it hit me. They were dry! Those branches and sticks that cluttered all my favorite outside places were dry for the first time in ever!! And maybe the last time ever. 

I ran to my secret lighter stash and popped a lighter into my bra. As soon as that cake was done in the oven I was heading outside to burn the 7 year old pile of slash that was so rudely taking up far too much space in the location of my future indoor riding arena. The indoor riding arena that I have been dreaming about and ever so slowly working towards for over 20 years. 

The timer dinged. Stick a toothpick in the cake. Dammit!! Not ready yet. Two more minutes of finding something to do while waiting for the cake to come out of the oven, and thankfully that 2 minutes was all the cake needed.

Outside I went armed with fuel and 3 large bags of shredded paper. They hadn’t helped me much in the garden but they were definitely flammable. 

I have lived in houses smaller than this slash pile, and for 7 years I have been trying to burn it. The edges have now rotted and there were sinkholes made of mud and decomposed brushed at the edges. Not only was it taking up space but it was going to leave mud behind! I’m done with mud. Especially in my arena. 

I tucked the 3 bags of shredded paper into edge of the middle of pile and put a little fuel on it. 

Standing back I carefully light the paper. 

It flickered and nearly went out. Barely burning, light the end of a match that has already seen it’s light it died. 

So much for shredded paper idea. 

I tried again my, this time in more than one spot and a little closer to the fuel. There was some protest from the flame but it persisted non the less. 

Dragging the dry wood out of the wet woods I started to pile it onto my tiny flame. Finally the pile was going to burn. I had a good feeling about this. 

The flames grew, as long as I continued to feed them. So that;s what I did. Two and half hours I pulled pieces of finally dry wood out of my way and fed them to the fire that reclaiming a spot of land I have never had a chance to use. 

I watched the sun through the darkness of my forest while it slipped away in a brilliant band of deep orange light, very much like the deep orange light of my fire. 

While the fire in the sky turned dark I kept working and thinking about the fire within myself, reflecting on my passions and the thoughts that fuel my actions. 

*****

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And Then There Was Bread

Day 6 Take 2 

September 19, 2022 

It was the moment of truth. I had been playing mad scientist both in the kitchen and outside with Tonka’s pony cart. Both of which had proven very successful so far. 

I hadn’t worked out. I didn’t get my kilometer but I made some real progress in getting myself set up for the long haul in both these important aspects of my health goal. 

Tomorrow I had to go back to work after nearly a month off but first I had to deal with it. I had put it off all day, leaving it for fear of what I might find, let alone taste. 

I had made excellent high protein bread and sliders this afternoon and I was on cloud nine. This could cause me to come crashing down if it was another atrocity. 

I opened the door and walked into the dark sun room. The sun had gone down over an hour ago. The sound of the hot tub humming along with the beat up old dehydrator was surprisingly pleasant. Grabbing the machine I went back inside to face what had become of the dead zombie goo. 

I opened the dehydrator lid and looked at the hard rippled disks. I stared at them for a moment then broke off a corner. Thank goodness I had had the good sense to spread the good as thin as possible because had it been any thicker these rippling disks could be easily made into weapons. For a moment I thought about the possibility of hunting with bullets made from dehydrated dead zombie goo.

The taste was doable. It was almost green tasting if that makes any sense at all, green as in green grain, or something unripe. How on Earth could it taste unripe? It did, ever so slightly but it did. 

I broke the incredibly hard disks into cracker size pieces and thought about all the success I had. I made bread. Yummy, wonderful, not too gritty, high protein bread. Depending on the size of the slices there is anywhere from 6-10 grams of protein per slice and roughly the same in carbohydrates on most of those carbohydrates are fiber so do they really count? 

Lentils flours have always been kind to me. Time was ticking away, if I was going to start work on rebuilding Tonka’s pony cart I was going to have to stop messing around and just pick one. 

I chose red lentils and as a whole grain to accompany the lentils to complete their protein I chose rye. Rye flour is a gluttonous flour but I have never had a problem with it.

Two parts lentils, one part rye. I milled enough to make a test recipe and two batches of bread. 

The red lentil flour was the most beautiful color of creamy orange. Hot shoe orange is my favorite color (Or hot poker orange for those of your who have never seen a horse get shoes) but red lentil flour orange is a very close second. 

I mixed the freshly ground flours together by hand in the flour catching compartment of the old flour mill. The orange of the lentil flour held its beauty even with the gray of the rye flour mixed in. I stirred and sifted the flour with my fingers, feeling its warmth and softness on my hands. 

Wanting to increase the nutritional content of the recipe and give it some bend and stretch I decided to add my Super Seed blend. 

Super Seed Blend 

2 TBS Chia seeds

2 TBS Flax seeds

2 TBS Pumpkin seeds 

2 TBS Sesame seeds 

¼ cup Sunflower seeds 

¼ cup Hemp hearts 

Not wanting to eat all these seeds in my food I decided to put them all into the coffee grinder instead of just the flax. 

Being a little gun shy from yesterday's dead zombie goo, I decided it would be a good idea to test this flour. My dad’s special pancake recipe always worked perfectly for testing flour. I went with 1 part super seeds and 3 parts lentil blend. 

I was very pleased that the pancakes cooked all the way through and rolled up beautifully! We had a winner! 

Next I dug out my old lentil bread recipe. This is another item I had miraculously put away.  With a few tweaks on the old recipe I came up with this: 

Red Lentil Rye Bread 

In a small bowl put: 

2.5 cups warm water 

1 TBS Coconut sugar 

1 tsp dry instant yeast

In a larger bowl mix together: 

(If you didn't mill you flour together - if you did then it’s 3 cups of the lentil rye blend instead of below) 

2 cups red lentil flour

1 cup dark rye 

1 cup super seed blend 

1 tsp salt

Poor you yeast mixture over your flour mixture and blend well with a serving fork (Or whatever you like to stir things with) 

Then add ¼ cup of olive oil. 

Poor into parchment lined loaf pan and cover gently with plastic wrap. Just enough to keep some of the heat and humidity in there - don’t let it touch your batter. (Like a nosey neighbor peeking through the blinds I couldn't take my eyes off it while it rose - and to my delight it did rise!) 

Let rise for 30 minutes. Then preheat the oven for 325. 

When the oven is preheated put the pan in and bake for 30 minutes. Turn up the temperature to 350 and bake for another 30-40 minutes. 

Take it out of the plan and paper and let it cool on a rack before opening it…. if you can - we couldn't. 

While the bread was in the oven I put on my head lamp and headed outside. There was a project I promised both myself and Tonka I would start on tonight. 

The flaming orange and white sparks flew from my grinder and into the dark. I put down the grinder to clean my safety glasses. I had been so excited to start this that I didn't even clean my glasses first. The second shaft of the pony cart that Tonka and I had been using for the past 19 years was now removed from the body of the cart. I started chopping at the cart some more and to my amazement the grinder blade ran out before the bread was ready to come out of the oven.

“Brent do we have more grinder blades for the grinder” I asked him, and you could tell he thought it was way too late for me to be this excited. 

“Yes” he said “but you should use the metal blade for the sawsall” He told me a with a quick explanation as to why it made more sense. 

I was cool with that. The sawsall and I get along really well. So excited to continue working on this project I told him I was going to call it my Chopper. Every girl needs their own Chopper? Mine just has a pony power instead of horse power. 

Now all I have to do is figure out how to give it a super slick paint job that’s Chopper worthy. 

*****

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Misty Morning

 Day 4 Take 2 

September 17 

The morning started out misty with a haze of white fluff covering the tops of the trees. I love it when the world is full of white fluff in the morning. The whiter the fog the more beautiful the day. Or at least that seems to be what I have observed so far. 

We decided to go hunting this morning. I packed a lunch with my chocolate peanut butter apple treat, ice water and fresh sausages while Brent got the gun, knife and ammunition ready and into the vehicle. 

Off we set up into the moutnains in the old farm truck 

The old farm truck hadn’t been driven for a while and made and few funny noises that unnerved me a little. 

We kept climbing up and up into the mountains until finally we were at the spot that makes me feel like I’m on top of the world. We stopped to tend to a failing windshield wiper blade when I noticed a funny smell. That horrible smell your brakes make when they're stuck. 

I mentioned the funny smell to Brent and went in search of a puddle to test the brakes for heat. Having found one not too far up the road we got out and gently splashed the wheels of the poor abused old GMC. 

Steam rose from the wheels and the smell continued. The breaks were stuck. 

We turned around and headed back down the mountain before we even got a glimpse of a deer

We made it home without causing a fire and got about our plan B, which for me was to fix the broken gate. 

Tonka had rubbed the old gate so hard for years that it finally disintegrated. It now lay crumpled in a lump of useless wood and wire on the ground. Fixing it meant that I was going to have to disassemble a different gate and use the parts. 

I took the old broken gate off its hinges and replaced it with the only two metal gates I have ever purchased. Both of which I scrimped and saved for years before moving to Haida Gwaii. 

It was Tonka’s turn tonight and I was grateful that the weather was going to cooperate. There was not a cloud in the deep blue sky. I pulled him out of his paddock. He went through the man gate portion of the new gate, and seemed to be just as pleased with it as I was. 

Down the driveway we went, excited to get in our kilometer of Pony Express. The days have been getting shorter but we still got to watch the golden sun sink behind the horizon. I stopped to take a picture of the magnificent scene but Tonka had a better idea and just as I hit the shutter button he flipped up his lip. Little stinker I thought to myself as I laughed out loud. 

*****

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