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May 8, 2010

Happy Birthday Old Man!

Filed under: All My Posts,Family and Friends,Humorous Ponderings — Tags: , , , , , — Dawn @ 7:33 am

Age matters – or does it? How old you are calendar-wise seldom equates with how old you feel. Some days I feel like I’m a young spring chick and other days….well let’s just say I don’t move as quickly as I used to.

I started thinking seriously about age the other day while taking my husband’s grandfather to the doctor. At the ripe young age of 95 – and soon to be 96, Grandpa is mentally sharper than I am and mighty spry. In fact, some days, I feel old in comparison to this man who really hasn’t changed in looks since I met him 30 years ago. Looking at Grandpa, I wonder if my husband will possess the same longevity. Recently knighted with the honor of reaching that half century mark, Steve sports only one or two gray hairs (that he claims) and isn’t quite ready for the walker….yet!

Hearing Grandpa speak about the days when he plowed fields with true four-legged horsepower makes me wonder if our grandchildren (which we don’t have yet) will someday sit and listen in awe as we talk of the days when there was no cell phones, IPods or personal computers. Steve (being much older than me) will enjoy telling the youngsters about the days of party line telephones and eight-track tapes. I’m positive that jaws will drop at tales of the good old days of Steve taking his rifle along to school (kept in an unlocked car in the school parking lot) so he and his friends could go gopher hunting when school was done for the day – without SWAT teams surrounding the area. Imagine the disbelief when they hear we survived not wearing seatbelts until we were in our late 20’s!

Yes, back in the good old days, bicycles were ridden without helmets, hand sanitizer was good old soap and water and McDonalds was more often referred to as a farmer in a childhood song rather than a fast food chain. Back “then” Capri pants were called Pedal Pushers, thongs were sandals and tattoos were only for sailors. We even survived life without cable – relishing black and white TV signals delivered by rabbit ear antenna which were frequently readjusted to “tune in” a total of FOUR different “snowy” TV stations.

It seems everyone, as children, is always so anxious to grow up and become adults but once we get there, we want to return to the youthful days when life was simple. Milestones such as losing baby teeth are applauded. I even find myself looking into Harley’s mouth with a gleeful giggle as his baby teeth are starting to wiggle. Then all too sudden, we get “long in tooth” and have to go into the vet for a floating and are left wondering why we hurt so bad the day after running, riding or putting in a hard day’s work. Just where did those summer days of youth go?

So do we feel our age? In regards to his half century of life, Steve says, “I feel like a 30-year old but my wife won’t let me have one!” Well, today – just for him, I feel like a 30-year old and if he ditches that walker – he might even be able to catch me! Happy Birthday Old Man!

March 1, 2010

Snowshoeing 101

Filed under: All My Posts,Farm Life,Humorous Ponderings — Tags: , , , , , , — Dawn @ 11:34 pm

Spring fever hit me early this year but I wasn’t the only one who fell prey to this disease. A robin dared show his beak in my yard the last day of February…when the snow was still up to 3 feet deep in the shelterbelts and fields. I’m sure he was wondering what he was doing in North Dakota along with the rest of us!

It was on this day I gave into winter once again and strapped on my snowshoes. Last year was my first experience at this “feat” of strapping huge clown shoes onto your feet, and a clown miraculously appeared in the form of Dawn, who had no clue as to how to get around on the darn things. Too proud to ask questions and too dumb to research the process on-line, I set out with grim determination on my shoulders. My first trek should have been followed by a film crew as I would have surely won the big prize in American’s Funniest Home Videos.

On this first endeavor I quickly learned a lot of Do’s and Don’ts. The first being: Do use ski poles for balance or wear long gloves. Balance has always been an issue and I quickly found out that wearing snowshoes put my balance to an extreme test. I happily trekked off behind my house through the deep snow until I took one brief misstep. Milliseconds later, I found myself armpit deep on my side floundering in the snow. Arising from my tomb was an entirely new and interesting maneuver but soon I was on my way again shaking snow out of my sleeves.

Stubborn determination and eternal optimism lead me to my next blunder. Don’t try to walk down a steep hill on your first walk or you will soon be “snowshoeskiing” at a rapid rate. Also, don’t forget to wear bib snowpants or as you are sliding on your butt downhill you will find snow in regions meant for much warmer hospitable treatment!

No one was watching this sideshow so I shook out the snowballs and stubbornly continued along my way…leading me to another don’t! Never, ever try to follow a deer trail through a cattail patch. Deer are much narrower in body and foot path than humans with huge boards strapped to their feet and at some point you are going to tangle said snowshoes in cattails and end upside down once again. No one told me the snow and cattails could be so deep right off the path. Nor did anyone tell me that it is nearly impossible to get yourself back upright when your feet are still way up there on the deer path and your body way down there deep in a soft bed of snowy fuzz.

Feeling much like a turtle stuck on its back with my feet the only part of my body still high upon the deer trail, I grabbed at the cattails to pull myself back up. This only produced clouds of fuzz rising high in the air much like the smoke signal I needed to send out for help. The thought of being found in this position in the spring along with the words “I’ve fallen and can’t get up!” sent me into hysterical laughter which was quickly choked off by the cloud of cattail fuzz raining down and entering my nostrils and lungs. After much huffing and hacking and sneezing and grunting, I finally emerged more or less intact (except for my dignity) and sporting a snazzy new coat of white.

Of course, what goes down must come back up and I quickly learned what the term “uphill battle” means along with don’t grab onto branches to pull yourself uphill unless you first check to see if they are alive. Dead branches easily break and are only useful for stabbing the offending snow and hillsides with frustration. Switchbacks quickly became my friend that day!

A sucker for punishment, I have since made many treks out onto the frozen tundra with webbed boards strapped to my feet. I’ve even come to enjoy this fine sport which takes me where no horse can go in the wintertime. Ski poles now balance me and smaller snowshoes better suited for brush and cattails and equipped with crampon-type claws for better traction up and downhill adorn my feet. My camera is now my companion and most of the time, I keep it safe from plunges into the deep snow. I capture flashes of red and gold as pheasants flush and deer as they snort and stomp, then run at my intrusion into their winter wonderland leaving behind gleaming white antlers shed in preparation for the spring to come.

January 5, 2010

Enjoying the Storm

Filed under: All My Posts,Farm Life,Horse Talk,Humorous Ponderings,On the Serious Side — Tags: , , , , , — Dawn @ 5:11 pm

I pulled on my heavy wool socks then my insulated boots, insulated bib coveralls and brown duck jacket, a wool hat and heavy gloves. Feeling like that proverbial sausage stuffed into its casing, I clomped my way out the door to do chores. It was one of those record setting cold mornings where the temperature finally bottomed out at -34.

I had tucked the horses into the barn the night before when the temperatures started plummeting – even the house protested the rapid drop with its timbers making loud cracking noises as it adjusted to the temperature. The snow crunched loudly underfoot as I made my way to the barn. Lessons learned in past winters ensured that I inhaled slowly so my nostrils would not freeze shut and also send me into a coughing fit when the blast of cold air hit my lungs. My eyelashes quickly began to frost up giving me perfect white mascara. After scooping some oats into a bucket, I opened the barn door and was met with a gentle nicker from the geldings – always anxious for his morning feed. Their body heat had warmed the barn to a balmy zero degrees during the night and the boys were mellow and sleepy-eyed with pleasure.

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Air is sparse and feels much like the high mountain zone when you’re pitching hay into the feeder rescued from the previous week’s blizzard which piled the snow five feet deep into the corral. Soon, despite the frigid air, I was sweating underneath my layers. Steam rose from the heated water tank creating perfect frosty strings around its edges, goldfish slowly swimming in its depths. I paused to admire the perfect blue skies and the sunshine attempting to raise the temperatures a few degrees. A flash of blue from the still snow-covered pine branches caught my eye along with the shrill call of a Blue Jay in the still air – begging for their peanut breakfast.

Halters removed, the horses slowly made their way to the open barn door – pausing to take in the cold air outside. They stepped out and drank deeply of the fresh cold water – goldfish nibbling at their lips for stray particles of feed. Raising their heads, they alerted me to a magnificent white-tailed buck making his way to the shelter of the pines.

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Harley was the first to run – his youthful exuberance for life showing in the leaps and bounds he took as he plunged through the belly deep snow. His mottled coat of black and white melded perfectly with the cloud of snow rising from his flying hooves. Soon, the older geldings were enticed into participating in the game of snow tag as they ran and sparred in the frigid air. Clouds of vapor emitted from their flared nostrils as they snorted their pleasure.
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Yes, it would be easier to not have animals to care for in these cold winter months as I rubbed my fingers aching from the cold. But then I observed the geldings showing their uninhibited joy at their freedom to enjoy a sunny day – and found my own pleasure in the frigid days of winter.

December 24, 2009

Merry Christmas – I wish you enough

Filed under: All My Posts,Family and Friends,On the Serious Side — Tags: , , , , — Dawn @ 5:24 pm

In this time of shopping for the perfect present, giving and receiving, one sometimes forgets the true meaning of Christmas. My uncle Kermit is in the hospital recovering from open heart surgery right now – a surgery we did not think he would survive. But he is doing so good and already out of ICU – we are all celebrating his recovery and realizing that it is the simple little things and the large and small miracles that make Christmas so special. With this – I wish you all a Merry Christmas and want to share with you a writing by Bob Perks ( http://www.bobperks.com/wish.htm ) which has been making the rounds on email for a few years. I can’t improve on his words – he speaks what I am feeling right now. Too often – we don’t express our feelings until it is too late. To all my friends – I wish you enough! Merry Christmas and a Very Happiest of New Years!

I wish you enough!”©
By Bob Perks

I never really thought that I’d spend as much time in airports as I do. I don’t know why. I always wanted to be famous and that would mean lots of travel. But I’m not famous, yet I do see more than my share of airports.

I love them and I hate them. I love them because of the people I get to watch. But they are also the same reason why I hate airports. It all comes down to “hello” and “goodbye.”I must have mentioned this a few times while writing my stories for you.

I have great difficulties with saying goodbye. Even as I write this I am experiencing that pounding sensation in my heart. If I am watching such a scene in a movie I am affected so much that I need to sit up and take a few deep breaths. So when faced with a challenge in my life I have been known to go to our local airport and watch people say goodbye. I figure nothing that is happening to me at the time could be as bad as having to say goodbye.

Watching people cling to each other, crying, and holding each other in that last embrace makes me appreciate what I have even more. Seeing them finally pull apart, extending their arms until the tips of their fingers are the last to let go, is an image that stays forefront in my mind throughout the day.

On one of my recent business trips, when I arrived at the counter to check in, the woman said, “How are you today?” I replied, “I am missing my wife already and I haven’t even said goodbye.”

She then looked at my ticket and began to ask, “How long will you…Oh, my God. You will only be gone three days!” We all laughed. My problem was I still had to say goodbye.

But I learn from goodbye moments, too.

Recently I overheard a father and daughter in their last moments together. They had announced her departure and standing near the security gate, they hugged and he said, “I love you. I wish you enough.” She in turn said, “Daddy, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Daddy.”

They kissed and she left. He walked over toward the window where I was seated. Standing there I could see he wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on his privacy, but he welcomed me in by asking, “Did you ever say goodbye to someone knowing it would be forever?”

“Yes, I have,” I replied. Saying that brought back memories I had of expressing my love and appreciation for all my Dad had done for me. Recognizing that his days were limited, I took the time to tell him face to face how much he meant to me.

So I knew what this man experiencing.

“Forgive me for asking, but why is this a forever goodbye?” I asked.

“I am old and she lives much too far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is, the next trip back would be for my funeral,” he said.

“When you were saying goodbye I heard you say, “I wish you enough.” May I ask what that means?”

He began to smile. “That’s a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone.” He paused for a moment and looking up as if trying to remember it in detail, he smiled even more.”When we said ‘I wish you enough,’ we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them,” he continued and then turning toward me he shared the following as if he
were reciting it from memory.

“I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.
I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much
bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish enough “Hello’s” to get you through the final “Goodbye.”

He then began to sob and walked away.

My friends, I wish you enough!

A Little Thing

A Little Thing


A milk weed pod – yes, its just a weed. But within its hands it cups a special and fragile gift, meant to last just a short time….Just as God gave the gift of his son to us on this special Christmas Eve so many years ago.

December 1, 2009

Weathering the Storms

Filed under: All My Posts,Family and Friends,Farm Life,Horse Talk,Humorous Ponderings,On the Serious Side — Tags: , , , , , , , , — Dawn @ 2:27 pm

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you all! It’s amazing how fast the past year has gone. It was a year filled with many ups and downs for family and friends, but crisis and hardships were offset by extremely spectacular moments meant to be remembered and cherished for years to come.

I’ve made many good friends this year through the “new fangled” way of meeting and greeting people – Facebook and Twitter. One such friend met through Facebook but never in person is Mark Madsen, who just posted a very reflective statement, “Did you ever watch horses in a bad snow storm?? They turn their butt to the wind and snow and let it blow. When the storm is over they just shake off the snow and go back to eating grass. Hmm, sometimes you need to just shake it off and go on with living.” This is excellent advice for all of us from someone who has been through his share of storms. Mark has worked hard at shaking off that snow through the one avenue which works so well – by using the healing power of horses.

Storms can come in so many varieties – from a gentle cleansing rainstorm to an all-out raging blizzard, tornado or hurricane – but they never last forever. Farmers and ranchers have to deal daily with weather delays and worries – especially this past year with record cold, wet and now a delayed harvest. As of Dec. 1 as I’m writing this column, our corn is still standing in the field while we wait for the moisture levels to lower. This in itself creates a storm of itself of worry and stress – unharvested crop does not pay the bills. Do we let the storm creep under our hides or do we just turn our backs to it and wait for it to pass so we can shake off the worry and prepare for a new year?

Harley and I had a storm the other day…which sure surprised the heck out of me! But his training has been hit and miss between the weather and farm work so I probably had it coming. We quickly went from an eager walk to an “oh crap – what’s this all about” as we bounced our way towards my new rail fence. Not liking the thought of a fence post landing, I opted for the “Let Go and Let God” strategy and met with Mother Earth. This was followed with a Come to Jesus Meeting as we settled our differences first from the ground and once again upon his back. The day ended on a better note although we both were still a little hot under the collar. Time management issues with Thanksgiving and work once again prevailed to the point of Harley being ignored basically for a week until yesterday when I once again spent some time with my little gelding. By then, the storm had passed and we both shook the snow off of our backs as we enjoyed each other’s company.

Life throws a snowball at you on occasion – do you throw it back with a vengeance or do you turn tail to the wind and wait until the storm passes so you can shake that snow off your back and go on living? Fighting the storms normally makes matters worse but sometimes waiting the storm out can be hard for those of us lacking patience. One of my favorite quotes by an unknown author gives you another option, “Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass – It’s about learning to dance in the rain.” Find the Joy, Live the Joy, Be the Joy! And as always, look Into the Sunset for a brand new day.

MyBoys

October 13, 2009

Living in the Moment

Filed under: All My Posts,Farm Life,Horse Talk,On the Serious Side — Tags: , , , , , , — Dawn @ 3:31 pm

Living in the moment. Within the coolness of the fall day, the silence broken by the whisper of the wind in the pines high above and a warning cry of the blue jay from its evergreen branches. I walked on, closely followed by the blue roan – his nose lightly touching my shoulder. Warm breath and whiskers tickling my cheek halts my wanderings as I stop to scratch the friendly colt. White hairs sift down to the ground, much like the approaching snowflakes of winter.

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It was the robustly colored pheasants that drew me from the warmth of the house – two roosters squabbling over the territorial rights of my back yard. The shy creatures fled at my approach, resounding squawks protesting my intrusion. I was drawn to the hills of the pasture and the horses within. The chestnut’s legs reached for the sky as he rolled in an effort to dry the rain from his hide – his shaggy and now muddy coat betraying the sleek summer sheen of days past.

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The blue roan, started by the commotion, left my side to the hill above, highlighted by a brief ray of sunshine against the deep green of the pines. The clicks of my camera shutter the only unnatural sound amidst the drone of the crickets in the grass.

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It became a game between the blue roan and I, as he ran from hillside to corral and then back to me. My camera captured the moments of his romp – his glee refusing to be dampened by the cloudy day. His mottled coat a blur of motion as he bucked and kicked with the enthusiasm of the young; settling to a walk as he respectfully approached me for another scratch. At my urging, he exits for another run, up hill and down – mud, mane and tail flying in the breeze generated by his thundering hooves, echoing in the quiet of the approaching shower.

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The older geldings waited patiently in the muddy corral, unaffected by the zeal of the blue roan colt named Harley until he too, waited patiently by the fence for his snack of crab apples. Hastened by another approaching rain shower, I gathered the crisp red windfalls and fed the boys their treats. Soon smacking lips and the fresh scent of apple mingled with the gentle cleansing drops falling from the sky. The drops became larger – silencing the crickets with their damp. Wanting to linger with warm horse breath upon my fingers and rain damp upon my hair, the earthy scent of smoke emitting from the chimney reluctantly drew me back to the warmth and crackle of the wood fire within. Living in the moment – treasured for years to come.
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September 10, 2009

Hang on and enjoy the ride!

Filed under: All My Posts,Farm Life,Horse Talk — Tags: , , , , , , — Dawn @ 2:30 pm

As I watch the leaves turn into fabulous shades of reds and golds, I can only wonder what happened to the summer. Not nearly enough hours were spent in the saddle and I feel like I am frantically grabbing the tail end of a rope being tugged from my grasp. Falling leaves are all too closely followed by snow flurries and frigid weather!

My 2-yr. old gelding, Harley has been the star of the show this summer. His antics are continually entertaining and his curiosity is insatiable to the point I wonder if anything will ever be safe from his inquisitive mouth and feet. During a recent fence building project, Harley “helped” by picking up the log chain with his mouth. He played Ring Around the Rosie by circling around the skid steer and climbing the mound of fresh dirt brought in to fill holes. He even sacked himself out with my son’s jacket…humorous until Kyle remembered his cell phone was in the pocket. After a brief game of tug of war, jacket and cell phone were safe from Harley’s grasp.

Ponying sessions with patient Eddie at the helm are met with Harley playing bulldozer with his nose leaving tracks in the loose gravel along the roads. Obviously Harley also thinks he has to help carry part of Eddie’s burden by holding Ed’s tail or lead rope in his mouth as we take our ride. With Harley’s personality, I’ve tried tailoring his training sessions to meet his curious nature. I’m continually in search of new objects and games to show him which are always met with reactions like “Can I taste it?” “Can I move it with my feet?” It is rare this bold pony shows fear. The trust and bond formed between Harley and me through these sessions are now helping with his first rides under saddle.

Harley isn’t the only student on the farm. This highly intuitive horse has required me to hone my body language skills neglected from years of handling more forgiving elderly horses. Whether it’s the older and wiser theory setting in or perhaps it’s just due to the knowledge that I don’t bounce as well as I used to in the game of horseback riding and spills, my own self confidence and trust seems to have waned through the years. Through watching this young horse test and build his own skills, I have been able to rebuild my self confidence.

In the game of life, according to Harley, we all need to take that “What if” out of the equation and meet each new venture with eagerness and anticipation. Turn off that nasty voice in your head which asks “What if he spooks?” “What if he bucks?” “What if I get hurt?” Ask instead “Can I taste it?” ‘Can I do it?” and embrace each new experience as a wonderful gift. Learn to trust yourself and your horse and turn your life into a joyful game. By doing so, you’ll be able to grasp the tail end of that rope and hang on for a wonderful ride Into the Sunset no matter what the season is.

August 14, 2009

I am a Mean Mom!

Filed under: All My Posts,Family and Friends,Farm Life,Horse Talk,Humorous Ponderings — Tags: , , , , , — Dawn @ 1:32 pm

I am a Mean Mom! Just ask my son Kyle how mean I was when he was growing up. I’d torment him by making him clean his room, eat his supper, brush his teeth and the list goes on. But one day, after he spent time chaperoning some young kids at a function, he came up to me with the astounding statement “Thank you for being a Mean Mom!” He finally realized the importance of discipline after spending time with kids who did not grow up with Mean Moms!

One of my fondest papers Kyle brought home from early grade school days was one he wrote about home life. And I quote in my sweet little boy pencil scrawled lingo, “Do not complain you are bored because Mom will give you more work to do!” Ah yes, I am a truly Mean Mom!!

My mean streak goes beyond my poor abused son… cats, dogs and yes even horses fall prey to my rules and regulations of how to behave throughout life. Many years ago, I had a wonderful Springer Spaniel named Megan. Megan had one vice – a love for garbage and that love happened as soon as I walked out the front door. She loved to tip the garbage pail over and then proceed to chew everything into pieces and scatter it across the kitchen floor…especially wonderful when there were coffee grounds and egg shells to mix in with the mess. Mean Mom finally broke that messy habit by placing poor little Megan into the garbage pail and telling her to stay! Whether it was the humiliation of it all or the fact the garbage suddenly wasn’t inviting after spending a whole 5 minutes sitting in the mess my Mean Mom tactics finally won and the garbage and my clean kitchen was safe from the garbage monster!

My horses have experienced Mean Mom also. Old Al quickly discovered he is not allowed to chase the other horses from my scratches or he would be chased away by the Mean Mom and not receive any attention at all. He also learned that if he did not behave while being ridden, he would have to work the dreaded circle pattern for “Hours!” Zippy learned that Mean Mom was much worse than the feared WATER. He found it amazing how Mean Mom never got mad, we just worked and worked until darn it…how the heck did she get me to stand in this puddle?

Being such a perfect boy, Harley hasn’t seen Mean Mom emerge too often but when the sunscreen for his pink nose comes out, he quickly discovered Mean Moms don’t get mad….but they do win out in the end so he might as well give in right away and let it happen. Harley recently decided that he saw absolutely no point in stepping into the trailer. He wasn’t scared, he wasn’t even particularly upset at my command to step up…he just stood at the gate and thought he would wait me out. Well Mean Mom emerged and made Harley work away from the trailer at backing, lunging and various other jobs until he decided inside the trailer was the one spot he didn’t have to work.

Yes, I am a Mean Mom but I love my “kids” and my kids love me! When I see the confidence and skills built by the hard work and respect Mean Mom demands, maybe being mean isn’t so bad – especially when it’s followed by lots of love and praise.

July 10, 2009

Folding Underwear

Filed under: All My Posts,Family and Friends,Farm Life,Horse Talk,Humorous Ponderings — Tags: , , , , , — Dawn @ 8:29 am

Life is too short to waste it folding underwear. I’ve watched people carefully fold their delicates into a perfect origami but I’m a simple person. The only thing that matters to me is if your underwear must be donned in the dark and hours later you find that in the dark, you had put them on inside out….an embarrassing situation. Yes, my Mom was one of those who preached to never wear holey undies “just in case” you were in an accident. Well, I would think being in an accident would cause an accident in itself and no one is going to come remotely close enough to those undies to notice or care whether they are holey, inside out or folded previously to being worn.

A good friend and I once made a pact that if one of us should pass on to the Pearly Gates, the other would immediately go over to the deceased’s home and clean under the fridge, stove, washer, dryer and beds. Oh the embarrassment of someone finding dirt in your house…but does it really matter? You’re dead. They are going to talk about you no matter what and I doubt if the topic of conversation would ever be, “Oh my God, did you look under her fridge? She must have 10 years of dust bunnies residing under there…just what was she thinking? Didn’t she know we’d check under there after she was gone?!!”

I’ve wondered about the hand towel/dishtowel debate since I was looked at with mortification for wiping my hands with a dishtowel after having washed a sink full of dishes at a family doing before starting to dry the very dishes I had just washed…with my hands! Oh, the scandal of it all! Does it really matter if you dry your hands on a dish towel as long as you’ve washed your hands with soap and water first? After all, those hands are the very hands that will be touching the dish as you dry it on the dishtowel and also touching the very dishtowel you have just been forbidden to wipe your hands on! The germ police may be knocking at my door shortly but they will have to talk long and hard before they can thoroughly convince me on this topic!

Ah yes, the redundancies of life seem to be hitting me full fledged as of late. They hit me hard one day when I was intent on capturing some shots of a barn swallow feeding her babies. I had taken my camera inside to check photo quality when my husband walked in past my tripod sitting on the front deck. “What’s the tripod for,” he asked. Abstaining (honest!) from rolling eyes and slapping my forehead, I replied, “The camera.” I knew the true intention of his question was what were you taking pictures of? Is language, as we once knew it, becoming a lost art?

Yes, life is too short to waste folding underwear but it is definitely made richer and more humorous when you can laugh at the little odd and sometimes annoying headshakers that pass by. It’s been said that God has a sense of humor – he made man didn’t he? Wouldn’t it make sense that He installed those redundant tendencies on purpose just to amuse us all on occasion?

May 23, 2009

Giving Thanks

Filed under: All My Posts,Family and Friends,Horse Talk,On the Serious Side — Tags: , , , , , , — Dawn @ 10:52 pm

A double rainbow exploded with vibrant prismatic colors upon dark indigo rain clouds. In the glow of the setting sun, trees and grass lush with spring growth enhanced the pallet of colors with their soft pale and deepening greens. A crab apple tree’s pure white blossoms with its sweet spicy scent mingled with the aroma of fresh rainfall enriching my senses so long deprived by a cold winter.

It seems I have never seen such a splendid springtime in my life. Is it so beautiful and lush because of the excessive moisture of the previous fall and spring? Or is this spring so much more precious because of the harsh weather conditions and the turmoil faced in the past 9 months? One thing I do know for certain, this spring I have thanked God for each and every sunny day and every gale force wind that helped dry the soil. Thanks are given for the freshly planted fields of corn soon to sprout in the fertile earth, dark with recent tillage and smelling of rich intoxicating earth scent.

I also thank God daily for my family and friends – near and far, you are all angels bearing faith, healing, hope and laughter. I am eternally grateful to all of you and want to thank you for bearing with me during my time of loss. Your words of sympathy from so many corners of the world strengthened me and helped ease my troubled soul.

After the loss of Al, I mourned deeply…so deep I was not sure if it would end. I let my tears flow freely but I also pushed myself to ride and work with my other horses, knowing full well their strength would help me heal. Now I find myself feeling hopeful anticipation, excitement and a profound thankfulness for all that is about me. Al is still performing his miracles from above.

I feel a deeper sense of appreciation for each day, each flower, and each blade of grass that turns green with the warming sun. The noisy chatter of the birds and contrasting silence of the horses as I stand with them scratching their itches fills my ears. Horses have a silent language which speaks loudly of their desires and feelings. The pleasure of just the right spot being scratched shown by an outstretched head and quivering lip to the evil eye of Harley as he begrudgingly lets me rub suntan lotion onto his pink sunburned nose. I laugh at his glare and he forgives me when I apologize with a hug and a scratch.

Today, I found the strength to read my words written shortly after Al’s death and once again the tears flowed freely. Words my son said a few years ago came to mind. We had just had to put JD down, out first horse we had owned for 23 years. That day, I questioned why I have animals as I become so attached and the loss is so hard on me. Kyle remarked kindly, “Mom, that is what makes you the person you are.” Yes the loss is hard, but all the years of love, care and kindness makes me whole…it makes me ME.

I am a firm believer that people such as all of you (and my animals) enter your life for a reason…. you are God-sent angels who supported me and carried me during my time of need. I am back on the right path and being guided by the hand of God towards an unknown destination – one which I go to freely and eagerly. So many wonderful things await me and time is precious. There is much to do.
dawn-small-me

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