Marinin Mir

Not far from Peter is a magical world, as if created by Peter Pan. With horses, dogs, children, adults, performances, forest walks, freedom and free spirit of childhood and joy

- Mom Ksyusha, climb!

I lift my head in a red height. Easy to say! A bay handsome by the name of Calipso does not look at me - he shouts, snorts to the side, shakes his bangs.

The instructor Lisa comes up to me and takes the matter into her own hands.
A minute later I am sitting on a wide horse back. Sweels like on the deck of the ship, only a very open ship, without sides. It’s far from the earth. And scary.

While I am balancing upstairs, Lisa gives me short instructions from below:

- Legs in stirrups, heels to yourself, reins in your hands. Keep the reins tight! Let him know that the saddle is not a bag of potatoes, but a person.

I nod. Lisa softens.

- Yes, you put it, stir it up. You can hug too. He is a dreamer with us.

Two minutes later, the dreamer thoughtfully turns into the bush.

I am embarrassed to persuade:

- Well, no ... no need. Yes, we would be along the path, behind everyone. Calipso, hey. Hey?

Lisa runs up:

- Hey! Come on !!!

Calipso stops as if dug, then reluctantly floats in place. Gets from Lisa and me:

“You are more built when you don’t obey.” No caresses just like that. We taught him that an affectionate voice was for a good deed. He understands everything.

Who built Jack

Here they talk with animals not susy and not frightened - on an equal footing. “It happens to us, guests say:“ Oh, you are so harsh with horses, oh, you shouted. ” Of course, shouted! The horses have a harsh language in the herd: they bite each other, score, find out who is cooler. On an affectionate voice, when Buzit, the reaction will be alone: ​​it means not a leader. And the horse must see power. Only then can she trust the horseman, know that he is not just sitting on her that he takes his place rightfully. ”

Here is on the stable. Or rather, on the equestrian Khutor "Yulenka" in Toksov, near St. Petersburg.

Indude, ram, goat, goat and goat, dog, huge and brown, like a bear, a greyhound dog, a cat in the shape of a ball, a cat-boy, not moving at all, a guinea fowl, a rooster, geese, a raccoon and raven, fox, lead ... otter.

The fox sits in a cage, sniffs with a curious nose, and rare ejections are indignant: but this is a wild animal, this is barbarism! What is barbarism there: the fox was saved from the animal farm - he grew locked up, like all his brothers and sisters, on a hat. To let him go into the forest means to sentenced to death: in the wild, to survive is not taught. So he lives here as a home. They walk with him on a leash, and he attracts and strives to lick in his nose if he jumps.

Marina (founder of the farm) while walking through the forest with guests photo: Elena Mikhailova for TD

Nutria Vasily was scratched with a man: I got a toy for children, the toy has multiplied, nowhere to put it, buy or throw it out.

Trutty stories, there are a lot of them. Behind muddy stories are living animals. Everything here is saved, then redeemed. Some kind of noev ark. Where did he come from? Self -proclaimed around Marina, the mistress of the stable.

Marina - fragile, delicate, long -haired, looks no older than all teenagers around. But it can bargain so that the dogs are pressed to the ground. He boasts: “I can do everything myself. And to draw, and put firewood, and put the performances, and I do not need any of this of your education. ”

Allegedly, all this ark of kingdom is led by not the first ten years.

Each time it swore: here again I brought someone hard, save again! But he saves after all. And the guineasets, and rabbits, and raccoons, and, of course, horses.

Horses are the main Marin love.

The previous owners wanted to send the previous owners to the white hem. Marina did not give. The mare’s mare, along with the old man, wandered the owner along Toksov's streets, rolled the children, until the old man himself stopped walking: both were starving. Marina bought it. Rather, the whole stable bought it: “Let's save?” All friends and acquaintances respond. Here are the stallions of cinema and dawn, affection and sable, they were written off on slaughter by autumn: there is no need for the stud farm there are a lot of stallions, one hassle with them. But Marina finds out about this, announces the fees, people drop off - and instead of sausage he clashes a living horse.

Breathing.

And everyone who invested has the right to ride it for free.

Sima - White, saved with a stomach, became even a reception mother. Marina says: “We bought it from the stomach, brought and put in the stall opposite the caliphs, mares on demolitions. The caliph gave birth, Sima saw it all. And the caliph died immediately after childbirth. And the fabric of the suction remained. So Sima took this foal to her, her milk came, although there was nothing to do with it. And fed! Now the little Charlie, a black and white foal, grows next to her, grows the baby-it turns out that both her and the caliphin. ”

And the mother of two girls, Diana and Sasha bought the hem. Reception mother.

Makarenko on a horse

The horses float out of the stalls (they knocked everything here themselves, with their own hands, from which they had to), look with moist eyes. In the core of the stable courtyard - Levada. This is a corral for the youngest horses, those whom they just brought. They need to be with each other and see people, get used to-then to become a saddle someday.

Horses are used to living in the herd. It has its own relationship and their own orders. First, the horses get used to each other, and then they are taught to obey a person. And only those who are strong are obeyed - and who shows power.

Will and freedom, party and work, labor and training, horses, large warm horses-cognes like from a picture-and how it is actually hard to manage them. Sometimes through fear, through panic: when adrenaline covers the horse and she rushes through the forest. How do you stop her? In the same way as yourself. To be a tough, clear, decisive and firm hand to limit the review at the time of panic - then it will stop. And an unsteady hand and timid persuasion will not help here.

There is so much in common in education and bypass!

I look at the daughter returning from the stable - autumn, winter, spring, summer and again autumn, winter, and already the second spring. And I see how vital to children to communicate with animals not in the format of the contact zoo, but in the format of life side by side. Responding for them, for themselves, learning to see and hear the living. It straightens it very important inside. Gives a coupling with life, and with him.

This freemen, which cannot be found in the conditions of fenced areas of cultivation of our children. The same risk and challenge that is necessary as a vitamin of growth does not wedge into a dense schedule between the school and the tutors. Later I sit at the Petranovskaya seminar and listen: children for growing up need initiation, difficulties, children need to cope with something. Otherwise, they organize their own risk.

Here, at the stable, there is enough of everything.

This is freedom to jump through the forest, letting go of everything “as it should”, “what will they think”, “how you behave”, choked in a joyful cry. This is a test of a horse and be a leading and the main thing with her: to feel her strength and her fear and know that she - so big and strong - depends on you now, you can direct her and calm her down, and that means you are also strong. This is contact with a reality that does not give any sport with objects or a game with always the same rules: a horse is the same participant in the process as you yourself, and if you want success, you have to learn how to see it, read its signals, take into account her, living, and speak her language.

Horses - Home Marinina Love for life photo: Elena Mikhailova for TD Birds walk in Levada photo: Elena Mikhailova for TD

This is concern, of course.

The horse is alive: it needs to be washed, cleaned from the pebbles of the hoof, make sure that there is enough feed and water, drink before a walk, do not drink after running, clean its stall.

Look into the eyes and reassure: "They brought hay, drove to unload!"

Everyone throws up jackets and help: from babies to older ones, and the question: "What should I do?" - No one has.

The experiments are new, bodily - to go to the field in the field on an uncomfortable saddle in the summer and erase the legs in the blood, and also end up in the core of torture: gadflies! The gadflies bite, drive away from the horse, but you do not have time from yourself.

To be in the forest in a horse in the rain. To be in the forest on a horse in a strong wind: it turns out that the trees creak very loudly.

Grout through the forest, pressing tightly to the horse. You are one now, tight a drop of will, and joy, and the joy of living, and the muscles walk under the skin, and the branches whip on the sides, and the mane - on the cheeks, and the hair with a stiffon, and in the eyes of wildness, and in the heart, joy and emptiness, ringing emptiness, and thoughts, heavy thoughts, blown away, wrapped it on a Christmas tree!

Be from the horse thrown off. Risk. Yes, risk. Without risk, they do not grow up.

Small throughout the forest, in full growth, with a generous sip, to hoarseness, to hoarse. Yell! What are you, you are.

You live.

They leave, children, from the stable in the forest, as if on a hike, in the forest on horses with elves, their children's road of growing up, and return a little others.

And once in the summer my daughter calls me: “Mom, can I return from the stable later today? We will go to bathe horses! "

Where did the earth Marinin come from

A break between walks, and we are in the house of Uncle Kolya, a guard, fry the scrambled eggs.

I ask:

- Marin, how did the state come out of nothing?

Marina laughs:

- Yes, haven't appeared yet! Well, where did it start ...

Uncle Kolya puts a frying pan on the table:

- I can explain. Childhood dream ... bread, take bread.

Drinking is hot, burst in the tongue with fat, the fried egg spreads along the cast iron. I pick it up with bread. Marina says:

“My grandfather is Pskovsky, Grandma Vologda. Their parents, my great -grandfathers, brought here. It was then Finnish then there was a territory, and then it became Toksovo. They gave them a Jactovsky house, they began to live. Grandmother in accounting worked, and grandfather is a forester. Well then, the state was good, generous, all gave land, plots. They chose a site for themselves. Cows, horses appeared ... Grandma gave birth to children, gave birth to four. One of them is my mother.

When my mother grew up, they decided to marry her for a guy with Lechtusy. No, what are you twitching, well, love, love, not only a solution. They got married, she became pregnant, nineteen years old, she was almost giving birth, and he crashed on a motorcycle into a truck, to death. Well, tears, of course. And then I give birth. So redhead, incomprehensible.

Grandmother on dad immediately said: “Come on an abortion so that there is not her.” Those were thoroughbred, the military ... And these are some kind of ruins of rustic, and with cows, with horses! As the father died, they wanted to untie with us. Grandmother in my mother saved me. I think her mother and I think.

Mom didn’t like me ... Well, it was hard for her with such a strange child. Here she was my grandmother and shoved me. Grandmother lived on the ground floor, and mother on the second. We did not climb to her.

Guest house photo: Elena Mikhailova for TD

I grew up with dogs, cats, complete freedom. All Kavgoolovsky lakes, all Khepoyarvi - I have already walked around at four to six years! I had a dog, a makeup like. From the first to third grade, the boys followed me with herds. To our house - please, walk - please. The house is large, the children in the family are eleven pieces. Who counts the guests!

I am the eldest of all grandchildren. And the only one was who removes manure, goes for horses. And others did not need it. I already thought out everything then: here I will have a house, here the stable, on the other side of the pond ... In the first grade I already had a plan!

All the grandmother's children tried to become the right one, you know. When we grew up - they began to cut out apple trees, hazel, posed alpine slides. Like in Europe.
And they do not need anything - neither the economy nor cows. Although they survived on the cows and pulled them out, rickets. But everyone grew up - and decided to become normal people, on good cars, with alpine slides. They demolished the entire garden and rebuilt the house, did not save the old days.

Over the years, my mother found a man for herself, gave birth to another child. I was unnecessary. She is all to me: “fool, fool”, “I will give it to the orphanage” - and all this. We had an orphanage across the road. Gathered, but not gathered. I locked me on the balcony, and when they lock me, I need to get out! Well, I am an apple tree, I scream from an apple tree and aunt: “Put me a staircase!” The aunt will put, and I will run away.

With horses I have been since childhood. Grandfather will drink, hide the mare - and we go to the bakery. Grandfather in beer, and I will bite the rolls - and go home. The horse itself knows the road, lucky. The foal follows, he pulls hats from people. We plowed together! Grandfather always added: "The fly said, sitting on a donkey." They will put me down, I go back and forth. The horse dragged the logs, and I riding. Powder, plots ... everything was. And then the development began in Toksov, and all my dreams began to turn into nothing. Our horse was taken away, because it belonged to forestry, they sold cows ... The forester diluted the horse with a foal together. He began to ride him a year, his back was bent. And the mare was eventually given to the military unit, they lead it by - and she is incurred to us. And then she in their gland some legs and stomach tore, she died. So she was just thrown into a quarry. The horse plowed so much, worked, and they like garbage ... "

Marinina Volnitsa

Marina school, he says, threw it right after the start - boring.

“From the age of eleven I was completely free. Mother, count, was not, I was on my own. I somehow went to the horse club for a year. I realized what sport is and how it does not look like what I had. Imagine: you are going through the forest - and a moose gives birth to you! Will this be in a sports club? This is another world. They teach by the ruler, according to the rules. And I can hear a horse, understand and talk to her.

There was a whole war for school! A district police officer came, he said something to mom ... Well, that's all. I felt sorry for me, I saw that I was living with my grandmother. But I didn’t leave for a walk, I ran away from school and went to read. I re -read everything that was in our library. Zoology, Biology, Darwin, Jack London, Mine Reed - I did not know where to bury! Then the parties began. We have a whole gang formed - all the basements, all the pipes, all the gatherings in adolescence were mine. Therefore, I understand the children a little.

I got a boy, my classmate, well, we got married. I was seventeen. And immediately I gave birth to Julia, daughter. We began to live with his parents over the northern slope. My husband first did not let me work at all. But I begged! And she went to the waitress. She was smiling, cheerful, dexterous - they left a lot of tips for me. I earned my first motorcycles, mopeds. And a year later I bought a horse.

Goat walks across the territory of the farm photo: Elena Mikhailova for TD Ksenia (a pupil of the farm) calms the horse photo: Elena Mikhailova for TD

My husband was an electrician, and the boss allowed to put a barn on their territory, on the lake. We began to take horses for money for the money. The water was dragged from the lake to the electricians to the house, at first it was warming up from the frost, and only then they watered horses. I tore the joints there, the lower back, bent like an old grandmother. Well, they sent for rehabilitation, straightened me. And I continued to drag, naturally. With this money, I bought my first horse, a mare to Havana.

For many years, while I was married, they tried to make me a normal person. Everyone told me except my grandmother: “Be normal, you have to sit at home, cook, wait for your husband from work.” I tried, honestly tried, but it was so hard for me, it was some kind of horror! I tried to be a normal person. And I just waste time, you know? As soon as I bought horses, I stopped trying to be normal. All! My mother had no weight for me from the age of eleven, my grandmother died ... And my grandfather died, said to me in the end: “Marina! Everything will be fine.”

- Are you talking now?

- With mom? No. Sometimes we greet. She will come to the stable sometimes and start: "Yes, you have everything shit here!"

- That is?

- Yes, it seems to me that she is sometimes even a little proud of.

In motion

The husband drank. And with an ax went to Marina, and she sat out with the neighbors ... Anything happened. And later he died of aneurysm. And the marinins of wanderings began.

“My husband’s parents immediately said after the funeral:“ Look for another man, live wherever you want. ” And I stayed on the street, and I also have a child and horses! The crossings began. One house, then another. And Julia is ten years old, she needs to live normally ... I begged my mother: “Take her to live with me.” They took it. And it began: “Do not listen to your mother, she’s sick on your head, strange.” My mother always said that you have to go to work as a saleswoman, live like everyone else, and not this moronic life.

And Julia loves me madly, she is like a friend. And still, she was constantly spinning, of course: in the morning I take her to school, take her from school, she is from me until the evening, and then I take it to my mother to spend the night. But still, this mood remained with this: restrained, strict, says to me: “Here, you do wrong, you need in order, you have to like this, that's how it is.” To the grandmother.

Well, then we rented a room. They were happy! Lonely and happy. I scored on all men, we bought furniture, started a dog. And my horses all wandered around the leased lands. Either we were raised four times a year, then we tried to squeeze the stable from us with bandit ways ... It was once that we covered our stable with banners, disassembled everything quietly so that no one could guess about our plans, and scared. It was that they lived in an illegal place, and during the views they hid and almost the grass was painted there for visibility. Everything was!

Masha (daughter of Marina) plays in the guest house photo: Elena Mikhailova for TD

We moved here one night. There was a void here - only the white building was destroyed, stood, fodder, and everything else was a swamp. We put together a canopy for horses in a day. And then for a long, long time all this swamp was covered with sawdust and manure. Still in the rains underfoot it is champing.

We are here for about the tenth year. And the last. Everyone, here they begin development. What will happen? Five -story buildings. They also offered us to build a stable, but "over fifty percent of income." And the stable does not bring income, this is just a way to live. We earn to feed horses on the grooms - and that’s all!

So we have to go on. ”

Their people

Телефон дребезжит. «Теть Марин, Маша хочет съесть бутерброд с колбасой, можно?» — «Да, все можно».

Маша — младшая дочка Марины. Малыш вольный, детство катится прямо тут, рядом с животными на конюшне. Маше все можно!

«Мы с Пашкой познакомились, так ему еще шестнадцати не было. Он пришел с ребятами покататься — и так и остался, как все остаются тут: воля и лошади, много ли надо. Начал за мной ухаживать. Я говорю: “Да ты что, иди отсюда, мне уже тридцать!” А он: “Тетя Марина, у меня уже паспорт есть, давай поженимся!” Ну до его двадцати я его отшивала. А потом поженились. Вот и Машку родили…»

Паша жену поддерживает во всем. Марина говорит, что еще и соревнуется: «Я ж мотоциклист, так и он себе мотоцикл купил, мотоклуб создал “Вольные всадники”. А что, говорит, она начальник над лошадьми, так буду я начальником над мотоциклами!»

Вся команда тут, от мотоциклистов до конюхов, свои: много детей, родители, волонтеры. Все приходят так: покатался и остался. Атмосфера притягивает.

«Как осели мы тут, лошадей стало больше, кто-то из детских домов приехал, и пошло у нас — зовем детей, катаем. Free, of course. Некоторых потом усыновили, кто-то в Америке на ранчо живет, писали потом, звонили. Сейчас вон от фонда из приемных семей у нас дети занимаются который год, все растут на глазах, прибегают ко мне, рассказывают, делятся. Вокруг меня всегда дети. Я как будто сама такая — сложный подросток в трудной ситуации. Как будто себе самой даю в прошлое».

Во время прогулки по лесу с гостями хутора Фото: Елена Михайлова для ТД Аня (воспитанница хутора) гладит Тумана Фото: Елена Михайлова для ТД

Все, кто остался, остаются надолго. Вместе возятся с лошадьми и другими животными, водят на прогулки гостей, чистят лес, чинят мостики к озерам, мусорные горы превращают в цветочные… Раз мы все равно убираемся, почему бы не сделать конный экологический патруль, решила как-то Марина. And they did. Не поленились и статус оформили — региональная общественная организация «Конно-сказочный хутор». Позже губернатор даже форму выделил — чин по чину, патруль же. Марина отправилась с этим патрулем в школу вести кружок. Рассказывала про природу, про лес да про мох… Потом не выдержала: тяжело в стенах, с бумажками, на волю бы. Так и решили: лучше уж вы, школа, к нам. С тех пор дети из токсовской школы на конюшне и занимаются.

Не сказать, что в родном Токсове все их сильно любят. Differently. На конной прогулке идешь мимо деревенских домов: кто-то улыбается, протягивая яблоки лошадям, кто-то опасливо жмется подальше, кто-то торопливо выбегает собрать навоз — лучшее удобрение для сада. А кто-то, говорят, и проклинает. Марина хохочет: «Ругаются: ходим, мешаем! Как-то назвали меня королевой органики. А я и думаю: так и ваша тогда, значит! Все мы органика!»

Маринина мечта

«Я хочу, знаешь, создать такую большую деревню, в которой будет совсем другой мир. Монгольское что-то, средневековое что-то, вестерн, индийское, русская деревня — все будет пусть! весь мир там хочу!

И чтобы лекции, и игры, и театральное шоу в прожекторах. Каждое воскресенье — спектаклик. Я сейчас тоже спектакли делаю — и на Масленицу, и на Новый год, но хочется-то чаще! Вверху лагерь, внизу — большая гостиная, чтобы детям можно было вольготно раскинуться.

И чтобы пришел человек, а ему выдали шляпу, костюм — и вот он уже часть этой сказки.

И всюду там на свободе чтобы бродили лошади.

И чтобы люди там жили! Я каждому сейчас говорю: “Что ты хочешь, придумывай себе сам”. Римма вот хочет построить избушку, где гостей кормить. Вот дядя Коля — так мы ему кожевенную мастерскую сделаем, видела, какие он уздечки из кожи плетет? Унты, куртки, штаны — все может. А парень один, скульптор, вот он хочет там гончарную мастерскую сделать. Кузню поставим. Мы без этих людей не справимся! И это свои люди.

Я хочу собрать там город мастеров.

А сама сделаю лесную школу.

У нас же в школах толком нет образования про животных. Нужно обучать человека понимать природу. Зачем эти физика, химия? Люди в городе вообще не понимают, как устроено все. А моя школа — это лес, природа. Observations. Мне кажется, я знаю, как говорят собаки, как говорят лошади. Вот и буду учить: чем звери думают, как живут. Как пройти мимо стаи собак на улице. Что они говорят, как смотрят на тебя. Как подружиться с лошадью.

Я надеюсь, что девчонки, которых я вырастила тут, пойдут за мной, а не на фээсбэшников учиться. Говорю старшей дочке: “Юля, я, наверно, тогда успокоюсь”.

А Юля мне: “Ты — успокоишься?!” And laughs.

А мне так хочется расслабиться, сесть в своем парке в качалочку у окна и смотреть, как там все. Красота, люди с лошадьми ходят.

Ну и мои дети чтобы жили там и работали, не учась непонятно чему и непонятно зачем. А пусть парк развивают! Передавали бы потом по наследству.

Я потом умру, рожусь где-нибудь у своих праправнуков, а у меня там парк! Все готовенькое! И уж я наконец поживу!»

Одно из направлений работы хутора — конные прогулки по лесу для гостей Фото: Елена Михайлова для ТД

Чтобы парк получился, Марина вкладывается всем, что имеет, — собственным домом.

— Блин, я первые два года в жизни жила в своем доме! И теперь сбагриваю этот дом по нижайшей цене. Но лошади на чужой земле… Так нельзя. Вот мы им купим тут, рядышком. И лес в аренду возьмем, для сказочного городка.

— Марина, бывает, что сомневаешься?

- No! Вообще не бывает! Знаю, что все сбудется. Только, главное, не помереть бы, пока все не построю. У меня ж столько идей! Но с кем ни делюсь страхами — да ты, говорят, никогда не помрешь. А если и помрешь, нам являться будешь — сделайте!

Будет, это точно.

Дядя Коля и баран

На конюшне повсюду висят объявления — капустой не кормить. Хлебом тоже, это если лошадей. Коз, баранов, свинью — этих можно.

Why so? Потому что у огромных, прекрасных, сильных лошадей самая частая причина смертности — от заворота кишок. Животы их уязвимы, от капусты и дрожжей начинается брожение. И тогда лошадь долго выхаживают — есть шанс спасти, просто водя ее кругами, чтобы газы в кишечном тракте не застаивались, но чаще всего — ветеринар, скорая, смерть…

Черный свин, переваливаясь, выходит из конюшни и подпихивает меня под колени: есть чо?

Спина его широка и приземиста, как надежная советская тумбочка.

— Откуда он тут?

— А, завели как карликового. Он подрос, потом паркет рыть начал. Они все роют, дома-то не должны жить. Ну и какой же он карликовый?

Черная волосатая тумбочка уходит, переваливаясь. Приходит Толик.

Толик — это баран. Шкура курчавая, пальцы запустишь, потянешь — Толик и не почувствует. Рог сгребешь в руку — Толик глаза на тебя поднимает, прижмуривается: чеши, мол.

Рога у него чешутся, да. И между рогов. И вот тут еще, где ушко.

Я ковыряюсь в сумке: брала же кое-что из дома — точно! — и протягиваю барану Толику батон.

Толик стоит где стоял, любовно сощурясь в сторону дяди Коли. На меня и не смотрит. Что ему тот батон.

Часом раньше, когда мы сидели за чаем и разговорами в дяди-Колиной сторожке, Толик в любовном нетерпении мерно стучал рогами в дверь.

«Он у меня и пироги ест, и пирожные, а что? — говорит дядя Коля. — Все лопает, негодяй, все!»

Голос строгий у дяди Коли, а вот взгляд на Толика — с большим одобрением.

Я отдаю ему батон: «Покормите?» А чего ж, говорит дядя Коля, можно.

Уже у самых ворот я оглядываюсь. Толик ест.

Скрипят ворота с нарисованной Бабой Ягой.

Вечер, темень.

Мы возвращаемся с конюшни на электричке. От нас пахнет навозом, лесом и лошадьми. Мы удаляемся от конюшни, возвращаемся в мир другой, в мир гораздо более рациональный.

Мы смоем конюшню в душе, постираем вещи, ляжем спать, а завтра будет обычная городская жизнь. Из города все это выглядит утопией: так не бывает. Не бывает взять и ставить спектакли, не бывает с тремя классами образования открывать свои школы, не бывает жить как хочется и строить свой мир, так нельзя.

Марине можно. У нее получается.

Может, можно и нам.

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