Eowyns Blog | 16 Sept | Autumn



  • A new blog for the new year, hopefully one more organised than the last (like that is ever happening), following the various lives of my large cast of sims and horses. I like sport horses, bay horses and cute horses. I like horses.


    Windchase Eventing is a small but outwardly professional yard set in the Scottish Highlands, it's diminutive size and surrounding glens lending it an air of seclusion and mystery well suited to its reclusive manager. Formerly old coach stables, its low ceilings, cobwebs and coarse local brick shelter a tiny cherry-picked selection of the continents best Eventing bloodlines. Here is a place where tradition runs deep, a perfect blend of professional sport horse management with horsemanship tradition as old as the country itself.


    Jan 4th - Wimereux KN
    Jan 9th - Quizzical LX
    Jan 14th - AmB Honigbiene
    Jan 15th - Winter Blues | Various
    Big Laptop Death of 2019
    April 2nd - Eretria's Pylottie
    April 22nd - Esprit Tordu CX
    April 26th - Danzig ET & Jericho AX
    June 9th - Carolan Estate Summer Grading Entries
    June 14th - Esprit Tordu CX
    July 3rd - D'avenir L
    August 9th - Show Entries, Various.
    August 16th - Bellinge's Backgammon
    August 22nd - Montserat HX
    September 16th - Autumn, Various



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    It was in a sheltered valley that the yard was to be found, hedged in on all sides by forest so thick and deep in places that it almost felt like a world unto it's own. It was one of those peculiar, thoroughly Scottish places, with its ancient gnarled trees and that deep, yawning sense of age that seemed to permeate the place. Much of what had once stood had been felled, the thick blanket of pine that had turned any sound into nary a whisper gradually coaxed into the muddy, rolling fields of the winter pastures. It was here that the mares were kept; fine tall horses that felt both out of place, and yet thoroughly at home in the vast, wild remoteness of the place. They were like a well kept secret, known only by those who knew, sheltered by that dark, insulating forest of old.


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    My rushed (as always) addition to the January Postathon that me, @Alexa-la-Coupe @Aliisa-Pohl @Denn-Hanes @Mevi-Hackerman have all been unfortunate enough to be part of. I struggled with this one a lot but am somewhat happy with the outcome in the end - just need to learn all this fancy cropping and framing now. This features my lovely mare Wimereux KN, or Plum as she's commonly known, who hasn't been featured here since her profile picture a couple of months ago. Something about her rich coat and dark dark green just :ok_hand_tone1:



  • Woah! Those pictures are stunning! i love the atmosphere you get from them! And that sure is a gorgeous horse! :heart_eyes:

    EDIT: Wee i got the first comment! :joy:



  • These are beautiful pictures! I love the atmosphere.



  • Can't wait to see more of your beautiful pics! :)



  • beautiful mare



  • Better catching up with all the replies before another year passed and I didn't come around to write a comment.
    Girl, I have no idea how you manage to make every single picture even when it's unedited a freaking masterpiece. That's something I adore about your photos ever since I joined Equus. You are one of my greatest inspirations and I don't mind telling the world I am a fangirl of yours. I mean, yeah, you say you struggled with this theme but look - Your pictures are the cherry on the topping. I don't care if you struggling, I will always demand more pictures because you have this wonderful talent of making unedited pictures a real looker and cropping or not, damn you sure know how to have fancy ankles and an eye for details. I mean I could go on and on and on about how far you have come over all these years and how good you became but I am sure you know it. Otherwise you wouldn't be so brave to post unedited pictures and make us all trool over them. <3



  • Woop woop, a new blog is opening! I really enjoyed reading you, I really do, in addition to discovering this unusual green theme :evergreen_tree: This is amazing how some pictures and text can provide both inspiring and mysterious feelings. This atmosphere has something captivating. Congrats, you did a great job :thumbsup:


  • PR Committee

    What a great update; I love the introduction part, you have a great knack for writing; and look what a gorgeous girl Wimereux is too :heart_eyes:



  • Your photos are always so simple yet so so appealing Eowyn it's something that I don't think anyone else on Equus even comes close to being able to pull off. I love how the bright green of the nettles in the foreground perfect frame Plum and how she nearly blends in with the wood in the background. The only thing giving you indication that she's there is that perfectly delicate stripe and snip of her's, a truly well kept secret. :spy_tone3: Don't even get me started on the writing :cry: How do you even do that? Your imagery is just so vivid yet maintains that sleepy elusive mood that your pictures give. I really do hope you'll be writing more for the remainder of this challenge :heartbeat:



  • im.

    sobbing.

    sobbing, eowyn. i think i'll need to go through this line by line like i'm in english class. you wrote a masterpiece and i'm moved :sob: i was reading back on your blog on the old forum very recently and i came across that one foggy post where you wrote lovely imagery, and i wished that you'd write more. i can't even describe how happy this post makes me, truly :sparkles:

    @Eowyn-Vance said in Eowyns Blog | 5th Jan:

    It was one of those peculiar, thoroughly Scottish places, with its ancient gnarled trees and that deep, yawning sense of age that seemed to permeate the place.

    this is so cute; "peculiar, thoroughly Scottish," and "yawning sense of age." your word choice is just...deliciously classy while still somehow nostalgic, like you're reading a fairy tale. (probably because everything you make is such a dream :sparkling_heart: )

    Much of what had once stood had been felled, the thick blanket of pine that had turned any sound into nary a whisper gradually coaxed into the muddy, rolling fields of the winter pastures.

    "nary a whisper" has me utterly deceased. it's quaint, it's elegant, and i'm still amazed by your word choice—they're all beautifully cherry-picked and i want to eat them all. i don't know if there's a single thing i'd change in that whole passage; everything is complete perfection. this is the part in the story where we're supposed to lean closer to the fireplace and immerse ourselves your magical little world, except there's no fireplace so the most i can do is reread your passage even more :angel:

    They were like a well kept secret, known only by those who knew, sheltered by that dark, insulating forest of old.

    and again with the magic :weary: i'm absolutely in love with your writing voice—distant, mysterious, and delectably charming. do us a favor and write more, i'm swooning :revolving_hearts: :sparkling_heart: :two_hearts: :heartbeat: :heartpulse:


  • PR Committee

    Please. Write. More.

    New year new blog! I like this trend. It always feels good to start over fresh and clean. I can't wait for you to feature your bay (bae) collection. I've always loved seeing your trademarked moody atmosphere. There are always people trying to copy but I think you did it best!



  • (I'll reply to all the lovely, lovely comments as soon as I can ~ I'm a busy bee!)

    This is about the loosest resemblance to 'divided' ever, but it made sense in my head. My blog my rules. It gives an insight into this weird character who's been living inside my head for the past few years. This is honestly an absolute mess, but I'm tired :tired_face:

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    The new year was a daunting, nebulous thing. It sat forever encroached upon the edges of her conscious, preying upon her every decision when it came to the business and her herd of well curated bays. The balance books had made it plainly - and painfully - obvious that things simply couldn't remain in the state of comforting limbo that they did. The recent sales had been shipped off at a loss, the realisation that they'd only lost worth under her eaves the cause of many a late night - and many a realisation that perhaps she too had lost her worth. Things had to change, and they couldn't rely upon the competition payouts any longer - not if their good name continued to plummet down the rankings further and further into obscurity. The idea of opening up their sacred slice of the world to the public was a controversial, simmering notion, an unspoken but deeply heeded one that had caused her no small amount of stress these past few weeks. It was ironic really, how far they'd fallen from grace. It only felt like last year that she'd been to Brazil with Honey beneath her, their every breath, every heartbeat, every feeling so utterly entwined as they won again and again. Unstoppable. No books, no paperwork, no finance. It was only a month later that Honey bust her ligament - and the divorce papers came in. She'd felt lost ever since, spread too thin between her place behind a desk or atop a horse.


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    Quizzical had arrived earlier that morning, the frost gleaming and the nights chill still heavy in the January air. Bundled three layers deep in ill fitting rugs (honestly, what size even was a stock horse? Cob? Pony?) his legs a mess of dangling multicoloured straps and fraying baler twine, he reminded her very much of a whippet wrapped up warm for the winter. He was exactly as his name suggested; an enigma, a puzzle that refused to be solved. He'd been passed from one well meaning pair of hands to the next, a veritable Jack of all trades and master of none if John's cursory internet search was to be trusted (and honestly, with that man's fear of actual work she wasn't sure their was anything about him that actually could be trusted.) He'd be sent along with a letter, like the baby on the church steps, neatly typed and detailing his life as they knew it - she might have felt sorry for him, were the letter not an obvious draft with corrections scrawled in the margins (and wasn't that the absolute height of professionalism?).


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    He was the first to arrive of her new 'acquisitions', for that was exactly what they were, business decisions. Nothing more, nothing less. A dark, sticky part of her could feel the quality of her well curated herd of European bays practically plummet at the sight of the spots. An American horse born and bred, he seemed to embody all the flashiness and cacophony of the nation in the florid mottling of his coat. Still, he wore it well at least, and she could almost forgive him for it. Almost. She'd practically balked at the word 'appaloosa', but trusting the good reputation of the dealer and his apparent versatility.. well, she couldn't deny he ticked at least four of her five boxes, and he did come with papers at least.


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  • Holy! Those are some stunning pictures! I really adore Quizzical! So lovely! :heart:



  • Is it fair that you can write beautifully, make flawless horses, and have wonderful graphics? No, it is not, and I am jealous. I adored reading your story for divided and would love to see more of this character. :heart_decoration:



  • At first I thought: What the heck is she talking about this is a mess? Look at these angles, cutting through the picture, deviding them into seperate parts, always having something out of sight and to our imagination. And then my second thought was: Hm... what if she didn't mean it to have it that way and it was all ... by coincidence?! Could it? Nah ... (don't tell me any other, sorry lady, in my mind you had carefully planned it out all the way)

    Anyway - Please don't stop with the writing. I honestely love reading it. It is ... so well worded and really gives an insight look of your main sim and I freaking adore it. Please keep it up and running. At least once in a while if you feel like writing. I would really appreciate it. <3

    And secondly I love Quizzi (I'd would nickname him Quasimodo, not because he is ugly - he IS NOT, he is STUNNING but because he sticks out so drastically between all your warmbloods but I am sure there is something magical in him you yet need to find. But give this spotted cutepie a chance and let him shine through all his 'weirdness'.

    I love your entry. It is different yet gives a wonderful insight look what is going on in your stable and your simmies mind. It really feels like struggeling, like devided, like a puzzle yet to be solved and you still need to find the pieces.


  • PR Committee

    I think he fits into your divided theme! I can see it. Loving that we get to see some architecture in this update! I absolutely adore that shed row style of barn. So simple but classical at the same time. Little Quizzie is so cute! He looks so sad. He knows he's been dumped. Those sad puppy eyes are too much. :sob:



  • Wow such a gorgeous guy - totally to unique to your usual horses... who knows maybe you should go back into arabs :wink: Lovely faculties too i really like the colours!



  • I'm so sorry - I will reply to all these comments soon!!! So busy!!
    I couldn't get the pictures anywhere near how I imagined them, but this will have to do.


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    Nature’s first green is gold,
    Her hardest hue to hold.
    Her early leaf’s a flower;
    But only so an hour.
    Then leaf subsides to leaf.
    So Eden sank to grief,
    So dawn goes down to day.
    Nothing gold can stay

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    It was a long, fathomless day, each tick of the clock seeming to span an enternity; bridging the gap between a slowing, familiar heartbeat.

    The sunlight flickered in her mane like fire upon a shadow, ruffling with that persistent draft as she dug her fingers in, curling them, searching, grasping for a comfort she longed to feel. Something, anything, anything. The rough inky strands passed between her fingers, enraputered for one last time. A strand caught in her tarnished wedding band; yet another thing that she'd come to loose, another part of a fracturing, splintered soul. She was old, they both were, worn too thin over a triumphant set of years that neither had really recovered from. She'd known ever since Honey, forever the leader, had wearily stepped aside and trailed at the end of the herd, strange and uncertain as the passage of time pressed in on all sides. What more could she have asked for than that she passed in dignity, free from pain?

    And yet that wild, frantic part inside of her screamed - One last foal, one last show, just one last day. Anything.

    Anything.

    But it was too much to ask, and she had so little left to give, those familiar inky strands slipping from her grasp one last time as the bay mare inhaled and exhaled one last faltering time.


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  • o haha this is fine, really, i'm fine. haha. i'm fine. :sob:

    this is beautifully told and the pictures are really pretty but it made me sad so i gtg.


  • PR Committee

    Wow. I was not expecting that at all! Looking at the first pictures I was thinking how cute all your awards on display were. Then I read the second paragraph and Honey is DEAD! A true legend lost. RIP. Ugh what a bummer.


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