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Who are we?

 

We are Mark Hamblin, Elizabeth Platt, and our children Kayla, Nate, and Eric. We have a vast collection of animal friends in addition to our horses; see them in our Photo Gallery.

We work with a superb group of professionals in caring for our horses. Nicole Mailhot, DVM, and the staff at Branch Veterinary Hospital in Wells, ME take care of their health. Farrier Peter Cote of Newfield, ME looks after their feet and teaches us the Way of the Hoof. Robin Cuffey and Debbie DuBois of Photo Finish Stables in Buxton, ME help us train our young horses, make sure that those of us who ride them know what we're doing, and help to ensure we're properly equipped with correct bits, bridles, and saddles for the comfort of our horses. They are indispensible to us and we are deeply grateful for their assistance and instruction.

 

 

When Mark and I decided to move to Maine, we had two reasons: first, we wanted to be a little bit closer to my mother, happily retired  in Augusta, and second, we wanted to have enough space for horses. Our reasoning for choosing Morgans, specifically, was part nostalgia and part practicality: Mark and I both have fond memories of Morgans we met as kids—and I had also visited Maine Lee Morgans as an adult a number of years ago, before Dick Lee passed away, and I loved riding his horses—but more to the point, both of us realized that Morgans are among the best suited horses for a northern New England climate. They originated in Vermont, after all, and their hardiness is as much a part of the breed's lore as their versatility and friendly disposition. So we did some web searches on various Morgan breeding farms, focusing primarily on farms in Maine. We stopped in for a visit at Maine Lee Morgans, now run by Dick's daughter Trudy and her partner, and were impressed not only with the quality of their horses, but also the fact that their herd wintered outdoors with no apparent ill effects. But it was a visit to Brook Hill Classic Morgans that cemented it for us. I'd seen pictures of Casey and Piper on the Brook Hill web site, and Casey in particular was, to my still-inexpert eye, the quintessential Morgan. Through further research, we came to see the pattern: "sport" Morgans, though they are beautiful horses, just didn't fit the image in our minds' eyes of the horses we'd known when we were younger, but Lippitt Morgans did. Seeing the Brook Hill horses in the flesh (despite their thick winter coats) only emphasized that feeling. Piper was then in foal, so we expressed interest, never realizing that the foal she dropped would become our first purchase... but the rest, as they say, is history.

 

What's in a name?
People often ask how our farm got its name. When Mark and I got engaged in 2002, roughly the same time we started planning the farm, my  mother, like most mothers of over-30 single daughters, was all excited about planning our wedding, even though we were more than a little bit vague on the date. But the first obstacle was that we didn't have any formal engagement stuff, i.e. I had no ring, which bothered me only a little but upset my rather traditional mother a lot. So Mom decided to give a subtle hint to Mark as to what was required. At Christmas, she presented him with a fairly large cattle brand with the initials "MH" (which she'd happened upon at an auction) and invited him to use it on yours truly to warn off other potential suitors, in lieu of the diamond ring he clearly had decided not to give me. Mark took it with his usual good humor (but not quite in the spirit in which it was intended) and began to address the sticky problem of where on my person this brandapproximately 5 inches square, mind youought to be placed, when I pointed out to my mother that, unfortunately, the brand would read "HM" not "MH" when cast upon actual flesh. At which point she remarked that we would need to come up with a name for our farm that reflected the proper orientation of the brand. The first thing to leap to mind, given my mother's affiliation with the Episcopal church, was "Holy Moly." So when Mark and I purchased the land in Maine that our farm now encompasses, there was no question as to its name: Holy Moly—which is what most people say when they see the house Mark built for our family. So it worked out fairly well.
 
Needless to say, we will not be branding our horses with this monstrosity, though it hangs in a place of honor in the barn. And in case you're curious... Mark did, in the end, give me a ring.


To learn more about Lippitt Morgans, please click

here

and also here