Shipboard Reading

Written with Barb in mind.

Here we are on our first full day at sea heading south to Acapulco. The previous two weeks on land have been rather hectic and quite planned out. So today, I took advantage of a slow morning, sipping my tea, listening to the ocean as it pushed back from the ship's hull and reading one of the books I brought: How to Think Like a Horse.

In a paragraph titled The Spirit of the Horse, the author writes, "Horses have a special sense that allows them to detect our moods....Without physical contact, they can read and pick up very subtle signs from a human."

I stopped reading, closed my eyes and relived an experience I had a few weeks back that attests to this. I was out in the dry lot playing with the horses and had Lola in a halter. We had just gone for a walk and we were returning to our beginning point where I would release her. All of a sudden, from the ranch next door, I, we, heard this alarming call from Blue that said nothing short of "Wait! I don't want to go!"

Without any warning tears just started rolling full stream down my cheeks and I had goose bumps the size of golf balls. I was so caught off guard by this overwhelming emotion it took me a minute to figure out what was going on. Blue was being taken to his new home, not far up the road, but away from us. He did not want to go.

It was simultaneous: as my tears rolled, Greco, Blue's soul mate , was running back and forth calling out to him, his other pasture mates were whinnying to call attention to the fact that someone was taking their friend, and several horses who were gathered around me were calling back to Blue as he disappeared down the road. It was a symphony of heart-wrenching separation anxiety pleas. Ugh. Honestly, it felt like my core was being pummeled.

Next I knew, Lola, who had been standing beside me with her perfect manners and patience, had moved in closer, leaning in to me just enough to let me know she was there. She let her head relax down and she didn't move as I effortlessly cried and loved on her. Her body frame softened, her skin became lithe so my hand could sink deeper inward toward her tender beating heart. This kind, giving gesture just made me weep more.

It was a "clean" cry. No sobbing, just cleansing tears washing over my dusty face as I stood amongst the most beautiful beasts I have come to admire and understand. I felt that pang that they were feeling when one of them, one of us, was leaving. And Lola felt my pang. For that moment in time, I was one of them.

...The Great

I was playing the five videos I had unknowingly uploaded onto my ipod. They are of Yo-Yo Ma recording holiday songs with other artists. As I watched two videos in particular, I was so moved by the greatness of the musicians. It got me thinking...who or what do I think is just great? I mean, stand-out, gotta admire, can't deny their contribution despite politics, personal preferences or otherwise. But just pretty great.

My incomplete list will begin with Mr. Ma:

Yo-Yo Ma
James Taylor
Ayn Rand
Tiger Woods
Tim Russert
The Dictionary

Buddha
Philip Seymour Hoffman
Mikhail Baryshnikov
Ken Burns
Eleanor Roosevelt

Albert Einstein
Cribbage
Ella Fitzgerald
Miles Davis

Frederic Chopin
Confucius
Meditation
Mother Teresa
Frances Perkins

Johann Sebastian Bach
Oscar Wilde
Albert Einstein
Maps

Dreaming in another language
Being in touch with my godmother
Dalai Lama
Blue Moon
Laughter of a Child
Heat

Check it out. Let your mind wander while you create your list and feel the inspiration. It's pretty cool.

The Gift of Neighbors

Of course we can all take care of ourselves--haven't we just convinced ourselves of that?

But neighbors. Let me tell you about our neighbors out in Tumalo. We love our neighbors. We have learned oodles of tricks and tips from them. We have shared celebrations and holidays and lazy weekend days with them.

Larry and I have come to appreciate and enjoy fully the beauty and necessity of knowing your neighbors. A farm setting definitely lends itself to looking out for your neighbor.

Today, a day of extreme conditions, we were enormously grateful for all of our neighbors who despite dealing with their own extremes took time out to look after us.

Our plan was to wake up to our alarm at 5am to leave for the airport by 6am. At 4:55am my cell phone rang and it was Barb calling to be sure we were awake as the power had gone off overnight. Just minutes later, Steve was at the door knocking, "Are you awake? There's no power!"

So there we were, awake in a mighty cold house in -11 degrees! That is not a hyphen. The faucet water felt warm when I washed my face. Felon, who I've been letting sleep in the mudroom, took an unauthorized tour of the front of the house only to return to the mudroom because it was about 10 degrees warmer in there--everything is relative.

Leaving for the airport on time was easy. No showers, no breakfast, no clean-up. We made our way along the roads and noticed that Richard and April, our neighbors across the way, did have power. What a sigh of relief. Last night we dropped off Pooker to be in their loving care while we are away.

Leighsa texted to check to see if we got our flight okay. Barb and Randall checked that the chickens were still alive and Barb defrosted their water and refilled it. April called to let us know that despite the power outage for some of us, Pooker was doing fine and in fact, she made the room warmer for the little one. We got picked up at the airport, a little later arrival than scheduled, by Larry's office manager and when we arrived at the house in LB, the housekeeper and maintenance engineer met us in the garage with hugs and helping arms.

So to all of our neighbors, city slickers and Tumaloans alike, thank you for caring.

Put a holiday light strand on that and you've got yourself a fine present!