You’re in a riding lesson and your instructor asks what seems like the impossible. It is, to your mind, beyond what you’re capable of; it’s new, unchartered territory that you’ve never breached before; it’s just too much to even consider.
At this time of year our thoughts often turn to the people who encircle us and also to how we can offer a hand to those who find themselves in need. So, in anticipation of our Sip & Shop event tomorrow, Saturday, December 1st, we thought it might be enjoyable to introduce you to some of our neighbours on Main Street in Newmarket, Ontario.
In today's blog, Douglas takes us back to another one of his memories, a story of the loss his father experienced of a horse. The last time I wrote about my father and his memory of horses in his life I mentioned how my memory of my father’s recollections differed so greatly from that of my sister. In my recollection, my Grandmother bundled my father and his siblings up in warm blankets, snuggled in on some great, fun, likely red, sleigh; the full moon overhead, crisp air, the breath of horses hanging in it visible for all to see. The two horses then pulled the sleigh over pristine snow. A family and its horses united in purpose, grounded in the...
You're Cordially Invited... As the door to the Red Scarf Equestrian Lifestyle boutique store closes behind you, you find yourself surrounded by many beautiful items all chosen to enrich your life and the embracement of an equestrian lifestyle. Joanna Wiseberg, the purveyor, quickly notices you and smiles warmly to welcome you into this world devoted to all things equestrian. Joanna has always tried to live where beauty and quality coincide in a carefully crafted creation. She has learned, in a career that spans nearly forty years, to quickly and authoritatively identify a quality garment or accessory. To Joanna, quality is the essential ingredient of beauty. Joanna’s Early Search for Quality and Beauty It was this pressing desire to find quality...
The smell of chopped wood hangs heavy in the cool afternoon air. Distant trees, having already shed their leaves, now reach for the grey sky without them. Every “kerplunk” declares its contribution to the woodpile...
