#Pony Pasture

[southernboycure]

[mackeyturner]

More to come (soon)

I’m dismayed to see I didn’t post in 2023. I’m reading a terrific book called Our Wild Calling by Richard Louv – that’s the inspiration (indirectly) for this. I got a couple pictures I really enjoyed last time I was at Pony Pasture (2/25/2024). Here’s one: That – if you’re unaware, or even if you are aware – is a Barred Owl. Its mate was only about ten feet to the right in this scene but the…

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

MDZS Equineswap AU part 1: Bro we are horses. It’s okay to cry around me, we are best friends. Bro we are kissing.

[girl side of the swap]

[demi-pixellated]

Bridge Talk

[track2hack]

26.10.2023

You got any games on ur phone?? 🤓

Ziggy leaves for his new home today! 🤩

[thevices]

my partner is giving me shit because I refuse to replace my phone until it’s bricked. i mean i know it’s like 10 years old but I just feel like these things SHOULD LAST

[gummi-stims]

🐎💚🥕Pony Pasture🥕💚🐎

From peachyslime on tiktok!

[terribleeq]

Pudge and Zala have finally been relocated!!

[e77y]

Me today bc I’m gonna say hi to the horses

[gallopinggold]

Got my outdoor pavilion cleaned up over the weekend, so I had the clean space to be able to do my morning yoga outside with the sunrise for once! Bear could not figure out what I was doing outside so early, especially since I made her wait until after to feed her her breakfast

[southernboycure]

PSA: If you’re gonna toke in the wild, please pick your shit up if you break it.

This isn’t how we’re supposed to be treating our surroundings. Get it together, RVA.

6.22.24

[laurasimonsdaughter]

“The first thing you need to know,” the stable master announced loudly to the gaggle of school children trailing behind her, “is that these are not unicorns.”

Eleven-year-olds tended to be loud. Their silent scepticism was deafening.

“You cannot keep unicorns in captivity,” she continued. “These are all crossbreeds, mostly with specific breeds of horses.”

There was a small murmur of curiosity and a gangly arm shot up into the air.

“Yes?”

“Only mostly horses?”

It was always fun when some of them paid close attention. “Only mostly horses. I only deal with European breeds, and they tend to cross well with horses. See this here is a cross between a grey Thoroughbred and an English Unicorn. They’re large, and reasonably docile.” They also had that champagne sheen most showy folk preferred. “For people who come here looking for a steed, this is their best bet. Although I've only ever seen it done by people who personally broke them as yearlings.”

By now she definitely had the whole class’s full attention.

“But this French Licorne cross is actually half fallow deer.” She gestured to the pasture beyond the fence. “Look at them. Slight build, slender legs, built for speed and agility. They need a lot of space but they are beautiful to look at, and they’re relatively easy to tame for the pure of heart.” There was still something distinctly deer-like about them and they were all so beautifully cream coloured that they almost took on a silver hue.

“What’s those hairy ones?” a voice piped up.

“That’s a Unicorno/Shetland mix, from central Italy. Traditionally they tend to be crossed with Monterufolino, but they are hard to come by and make their coats even darker.” Unicorni were naturally built more like ponies, some with considerably shorter horns, and their coats were often a much darker gold, or even brown. They were less flighty than the French breeds though, even if they showed blatant favouritism towards certain caretakers. They would even pull a carriage if properly motivated.

“Do you have any bigger ones?”

The stable master turned around. “What was that?”

One of the boys was standing behind her with a determined look on his face. “Do you have any like that but bigger. With the beards and the furry hooves.”

“Feathering,” she corrected automatically and the boy nodded eagerly. She frowned. “What exactly do you mean?”

“There’s really big unicorns,” he pressed. “With wild manes and tails and split hooves like the French ones but hair like those ones!”

“Buddy,” she laughed, “what you’re describing there is a Scottish unicorn and let me tell you, they cannot even be crossbred into domestication.”

The little face fell.

“Any offspring of an Aon-adharcach will be as wild as they are no one can capture them with their horn still intact, not on your life. You go near one of them with a halter and it will skewer you.”

She smiled at the boy, who still looked rather taken aback, despite this proof of his favourites superiority.

“Tell you what. If you want to see something unhinged and imposing, I’ll take you to see the Eenhoorn/Friesian cross we’ve just got in from the Netherlands.”

[hedgehog-moss]

I meant to go admire a frozen waterfall yesterday, but I'm scared of driving on slippery roads so I ended up abandoning my car and my dreams and just wandering about by foot, following random roads.

(These first two photos are a little bit blurry because I took them while walking, but it does give them a certain je ne sais quoi... They look like childhood memories)

The soles of my boots had zero grip and were therefore great for sliding, so I ended up taking two sticks and using them like cross-country skiing poles to propel myself forward on the iciest portions of the road. It was fun! Pandolf thought I was insane. He was being extremely prudent on the icy patches, testing each step:

At the beginning of our walk he was prancing as usual but then at one point his front paws slipped forward without warning, turning him into a very long slinky dog. It was pretty funny. I laughed. I admit. He wasn't hurt but definitely a bit vexed.

We did leave the icy road on numerous occasions, to slip under fences and cross promising pastures (promising = lots of footprints; potential friends.) We met several creatures! Like this adorable shetland pony—I tried to take a photo from afar, with Pandolf nearby for scale, to show how scandalously tiny he was, but that turned out to be impossible because he was too friendly. Every time I took a step back he took two steps forward. Clearly he thought he was even better-looking from up close.

We also ran into the darling goat I mentioned yesterday, and I was told by several people on here that she looked more like a ewe.

Sorry for the mistake! But also I tried to look further into this and became more and more confused, as every source that mentioned a foolproof way to tell goats from sheep was disproven by another source—I found one that said sheep had a split upper lip while goats didn't (and my mystery friend didn't), but then another website contradicted it. I ended up with 32 tabs open with photos of goats and sheep of all kinds, some of which looked downright bizarre (what's with the Jar Jar Binks ears), and I began losing my grasp on the concept of animal species altogether. I understood how Darwin must have felt when he tried to figure out the differences between species of barnacles and asked people to send him various specimens and ended up with giant teetering piles of wet smelly boxes full of barnacles in his study that threatened to collapse and bury him alive. Then I closed my 32 tabs.

Honestly ever since learning that some sheep have horns and some goats don't, I've been lost. Not to mention, our mystery girl had a sheep-like tail but a goat-like beard. Are there sheep out there with beards and if yes, how do we make sense of the world? We should be able to point at a mammal with a goatee and say "goat" without doubting ourselves. That's my manifesto.

Whatever she was, the goat-ewe was very sweet, and she baa-ed a lot—at first I thought she was making conversation and I politely baa-ed back, before realising she was calling her horse bodyguards, just in case. Two horses soon showed up from behind a tree, very "What seems to be the problem ma'am?"

I offered nose scritches to the friendliest of the two and she went to report to the goat like "We've neutralised the threat."

Let me insert another (blurry) photo of a travelling Pandolf to symbolise the passing of time before moving on to our last encounter:

... I also had trouble taking photos of this one at first, because she kept coming closer to inspect my scarf—I thought she wanted to explore my pockets for potential treats like Pirlouit often does but no, she was very interested in the smell (texture?) of my scarf specifically.

The sky had cleared as we went down from 1300 to 1100m, as if we'd slipped under the clouds, so I tried to take a photo of this nice late-afternoon sky, and the horse finally stopped focusing on my scarf and instead started insistently positioning herself between me and my beautiful landscape.

Look at this lovely golden light in the snow over there which I was almost able to capture!

Meanwhile her pasture mate was eating a whole broom plant, slowly and thoughtfully, which makes me jealous because my llamas are supposed to eat brooms and they mostly don't, they think they're too good for brooms. They eat the very young ones but not adult brooms, so I have to do the work of three llamas and cut them myself. I wish I could send the Pampses as interns in this pasture, to learn the art of brush-clearing from this wise old horse.

I tried to take one last landscape photo and gave up when the aspiring model came to pose again.

Where was Pandolf, you might ask? Pandolf doesn't trust horses, especially large farm horses, and was quietly and insistently trying to convince me to leave. When Model Horse tried to greet him (it looks like she's chasing him but no, she was just stretching her neck to sniff him) he beat a hasty retreat toward the icy road, his former enemy. Some guard dog.

It may sound like Pandolf didn't have a very fun time on this walk, slipping on ice and running from horses, but don't worry, he found plenty of suitable empty pastures to practise his favourite hobby! Though I think at this point he has moved beyond a hobbyist and is ready to play in professional leagues. He does this thing now where he jumps up a bit to gain momentum; I don't remember him doing this last winter. He's an entirely self-taught dog (in the art of snow diving) and I'm proud of him.

[nowisthewinter]

And to think the animated movie version of Nimona was almost this close to being shelved if Netflix had not picked it up.

Yes, it’s good. It’s very good. I’ll let other people talk about the plot points, the characters and the pretty nifty soundtrack. (Santogold? Yes, please.) 

I am here to talk about the animation.

Watching this movie made me realize what I don’t like about Pixar movies lately. Yes, Pixar’s the king of realism. And, yes, Nimona is way more design simple compared to Pixar. But the one thing Nimona has over Pixar is how the characters move. 

Pixar characters don’t really move. Yes, they walk. Yes, they gesture. Yes, they will do things.

But they don’t “act.”

For example, there are many parts of Nimona where you could turn off the sound and still follow the story like it was a silent movie of old. The characters’ body language and facial language tell a story on their own. They fill up a whole screen with their mannerisms. This is Buster Keaton. This is Charlie Chaplin. This is Harold Llyod. 

You don’t really get that with Pixar. And while that was fine years ago because everyone was striving for realism and Pixar was showing everyone how to animate hair, now, it’s.....boring. 

Realism isn’t the end goal anymore. It’s a one trick pony that really should be out to pasture. Now people want to see what else you can do with animation. Spider-man: Across the Spider-verse showed that there are a wide range of styles you can pull from. Even taking ideas from Impressionism, Modern pop art (Check out Jean-Michel Bisquiat) and commercial art (See Bollywood film posters for example). Nimona is now showing how much acting range you can get from their animation. I’ve already watched it twice. Once for the story. The other just to watch the characters “act.” I’ll probably watch it a few more times because that animation, THAT ANIMATION!

I want more of that. Take notes, Pixar. 

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Stede: what are you thinking about

Ed: I'm -

Ed: who says I'm thinking about anything? I'm just chilling here, minding my own business

Stede: okay but you had your thinking face

Ed: It's silly

Stede: I love silly!

Ed: awright

Ed: do you think, like. Do you think we're best friends in every universe? Do you think we always love each other?

Stede, without missing a single beat: I think so. I can't imagine knowing you and not loving you

Ed: awwwgh

Stede: my only regret is that it took us so long to find each other. But as far as I'm concerned, you've always been mine. I just had to find you

Ed: c'mon man you can't just say this shit

Ed: what if we were. uh. ponies

Stede: you hate ponies

Ed: yeah because of their - fucking creepy-ass eyes

Ed: but if I was a pony I probably wouldn't mind that

Stede: ooh what if you found human eyes creepy instead

Ed: that's not relevant to this thought experiment Stede. just work with me here. What if we were ponies

Stede: then we would frolic in the pasture together. and eat grass together. And I would steal extra sugar cubes straight from the farmer's pockets for you

Ed: what if we were birds

Stede: then we would fly together, and I'd find the best worms for you, and we would make a game out of shitting on bald guys' heads

Ed: what if we were something gross though. Like snails

Stede: well Ed. then I would delight in spending every day consuming detritus with you

Stede: oh no sweetheart don't cry

Ed: I promise I'll consume detritus in every lifetime with you Stede

[earthearthearththearth]

here u go pronoun pop meant to post this first but posted it on my main whoops

🦢Swansea x Reader Headcanons (platonic, romantic)🦢

PLATONIC

-So first headcanon is completely unrelated to both platonic and romantic, but this man is so midwestern. You mean to tell me the Sam’s Club meat selection doesn’t hate to see him comin? Okay pal. He is so southern midwestern it is crazy.

-If you’re around his age, which I know you aren’t, thank god in theory. God, this man needs a normal person on this ship. Someone to complain about retirement years and ‘these damn kids’ with. 

-Either way, if you’re buddies with him, cool. Being close with Swansea isn’t really on a sliding scale-if you’re ‘in’ you’re in. For lifers. He won’t tell you, but you’ll know, even if he does tell you you couldn’t pour water out a boot with instructions on the heel. C’mon. C’mon, he likes you, I swear. 

-If you’re in the same boat as Daisuke, you know, young, you’re getting the same treatment as him. You could be the most precocious, intelligent little college student out there and he’s still waiting for you to fuck that up. The only way he’s gonna assume you won’t fuck up is if you’re in an iron lung, in which case, you’re taking up too much space

-I make him sound like an asshole. He is. But with a heart, you know? He cares. Or at least cares about your safety. And honestly if he had two interns to look over, at least yall can keep each other busy. 

-Not trying to like, intern!reader au you, but man if you were the other intern and Daisuke was busy being dead and all, prepare for the longest speech you’ve ever heard. Every. Pearl’s 8 minute monologue betting on losing dogs has nothing on this talk. 

-Anyway, in short, he’s just some guy, but aren’t we all……….

ROMANTIC

-oh yeah baby get ready to be underwhelmed!!

-He is going to feel so dumb having a crush at his old age. Like, this is marriage age, whatever. He never expected to find someone this late, especially on the Pony Express of all places. But hey, you must be the prettiest pony in the pasture you know what I’m sayin?

-Yeah, anyway, confession would be pretty simply. “Hey what do you think about seeing each other after this shipment.” I mean, not much has to be said. You get it. 

-Literally no one can tell you’re together. He would be more helpful with you and a bit more friendly, but mostly everything’s the same.

-Petnames. Nothing stupid like babygirl/babyboy, whatever. 

-He likes to compliment you on the sly, nothing huge, but stuff like ‘only you could make that uniform work’ or telling you to go bat your pretty eyelashes at someone else. Is that a compliment? You don’t know, but he’s not saying it to anyone else and you’ll take what you can get.