Working My Way Back to You...

We are back in Long Beach after our cruise through the Panama Canal. It was an enjoyable trip, warmed up by the Caribbean sun, rounded out belly by the menus of a 6-star cruise line with a Cordon Bleu restaurant aboard.

Truthfully, while I fully took advantage of our time away, at the bottom of my heart, I didn't want to be away from the ranch. I can't say I have ever experienced a vacation like that. I have always wanted to go some place else.

Well, that aside...one of our ports was Puntarenas in Costa Rica. We opted to go horseback riding. Big shocker there. Larry obliged me. They described this excursion as a ride for beginners as well as experienced riders, "no galloping."

We all felt comfortable in saying that this ride was not for beginners. Actually, the horses, Criollos, were so good and so accustomed to the terrain, and we had 4 Costa Rican cowboys and a paramedic along with us, that unless a beginner fell off the horse, they were going to get through the ride no problem. But, perhaps they may not feel very confident about that.

Only one other time had I been on a ride similar to this. By comparison, that other ride was just a warm up to this ride. We rode about an hour out, descending, ascending, descending to eventually reach a river in the canyon. There were times where the trail was hardly identifiable. We rode through crevices no more than a foot wide full of rocks and loose soil. We cut through all kinds of tropical brush, stopped to see a two-toed sloth in a tree, a Baltimore Oriole (didn't know they traveled so far), an orange colored squirrel the size of a large raccoon, a herd of cows crossing our trail, and kept an eye out for swinging monkeys.

The coolest part of this ride was actually riding. Fosforro, a gray gelding, was assigned to me. While we were waiting for everyone to saddle up, I gave him all sorts of loving. At first, he wasn't sure if he was into it, and then I felt his energy shift. It confirmed we would be good friends for this ride.

The horses I have ridden prior to Fosforro were horses I knew. Aside from two rides out at the reservoir, my riding has been around the ranches (I no longer include simple trail rides at vacation spots on my list of actual riding.) So, with Fosforro I was able to really test my knowledge, skills and comfort level. I established with him from the get-go that I was in charge and we would be riding as a team.

It was great! I maneuvered around the other 18 riders, changing our position on the trail. We went alongside the trail and on the trail. We went around the other side of trees. We stopped on a dime and started just as promptly. As we rode along the very tricky parts, working our way down and then climbing back up, I concentrated on using my body and balance to make his job easier and I sensed his appreciation. Even my Spanish skills were put into play.

There was one point where I wanted to go on one side of a brush and he insisted we go along the other side. I learned from Leighsa that in riding you trust each other to know what is safe and sometimes, you have to trust that the horse knows better than you. Fosforro's suggestion to go along the other side didn't feel like him challenging me; it felt like he was letting me know this was best for both of us. I yielded to him, again sensing his appreciation, and we were back on track.

Despite the "no galloping" posted on our tickets, I tested that skill too. Ha! How freeing it was. I would give him time to eat a few leaves here and there and at other times keep him away from what he preferred to be his own 6-star feeding frenzy.

Even on the return to the estancia, I kept control of Fosforro. We eased back, again changing our speed, our direction, our place in the pack. For all of you who have done trail rides, you know that once the horse knows he is heading back to the barn, good luck!

After dismounting, one of the caballeros took Fosforro and tied him off to the rail. "It's not over yet, my friend," I thought. I went over to give Fosforro praise, loves and thanks for a great ride. I looked up and I was the only person standing there with the horses. Everyone else had jumped down and walked off. That was just as well, I was happy in my little spot amongst the Criollos.

Very cool.

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!

Meet Alibi

Alibi. He is a special horse. An Arabian, CMK, and looks just like the horse you find in your coloring books or a cartoon or a Hasbro play horse. Really.

I was introduced to Alibi last January as a remarkable endurance race horse: one who wins all of his races. Intense 100 mile races, in all conditions, dangerous courses, rider on board, and he wins every time. Everyone at the races knows Alibi. Impressive.

To catch Alibi to get him ready for a race generally required 2 people to corner him and halter him using snacks, ropes, whatever it took. Alibi did not come to the halter and definitely not to the person holding it. "Uncatchable."

Well, Alibi has recently retired from racing due to an injury. He is back on our ranch after spending a couple of months with the neighbors in hopes of rehabilitating him. He came back with just as much intensity, power and determination. Always ready to GO!

For the past 3 months, I have been working with Alibi with the intention of re-languaging people, approach and touch, and in particular people with halters.

It started very slowly. Just standing beside him, not too close or he'd scoot away. The days progressed with touching while he ate to then touching his nose. Our encounters eventually evolved to him coming to me before I feed the horses. He approaches me. He initiates contact. I of course, reciprocate, lavishly so. Kisses and all.

Then we moved to my putting my arm over his neck, the start of putting on a halter. At first he pulled back a bit and then he settled in realizing there was nothing but a hug attached. So we did this for weeks: 15 seconds, 30 seconds, 45 seconds, even a minute of just holding him and him allowing me to do so.

I cannot put into words how significant this was. Not just because Alibi hasn't been known to do such things, except when in a halter, but that he came to me and allowed me to handle him in a very vulnerable way. I have gone to sleep at night with the biggest smile on my face, still smelling him on my cheek.

So, the day came when we both knew he was ready to put his head in the halter. A few weeks ago he actually put his nose in and out of the halter and I just let him play, without buckling it. But this day, it was different.

He came to me, and I had the halter in my hand, and he just looked at me with a definitive message that I was ready to receive. I said, "Alibi, I had a dream that you were in the halter. I think today is the day." There was acknowledgement in his eyes, he extended his neck toward me, twisted his head sideways as he does and breathed a relaxing sigh. I told him, "It's all okay. You will be safe." Alibi lowered his head, I put my arm over his neck, waited for him to slip his nose into the halter and I attached the buckle.

Wow. Tears in my eyes. An ear to ear smile on my face. And more of "good boy!" than one can say in a reasonable amount of time.

We walked around the dry lot where he calls home. Just a comfortable walk. We walked up to the high spot, looked down at the other horses who I just know where equally in awe, we enjoyed the view of the pastures, the blue sky, the mountains. We took it all in, together, trusting each other with our hearts.

We walked back to our departure point and I slowly unbuckled the halter and slipped it off his muzzle. I expected him to turn around and bolt--he didn't. Instead, he nuggled me, and then lowered his head again. Twice? Not only once in one day, but twice! This was such a blow me away moment that we had to call friends to tell them we'd be late to pick them up. There was no way I was passing up this date.

Since then, Alibi has come to me and played with the halter. We move in baby steps. And yesterday, I asked him if he was ready to do this again. And he was. This time we went up to the barn, had some grooming time, treats, and put a blanket on him. He hasn't been out of the dry lot since September. Imagine the excitement for both of us! And what a special time that was. Oh how we ga-ga'd over each other with praise and thanks and confident satisfaction.

One thing everyone who knows Alibi says is, "he's a trippy horse" or something else along those lines. "He's smart." "He anticipates your every move." "He knows what you're thinking before you even get to him." And I'll add, "He talks directly to you with his eyes, head and energy." He is no ordinary horse (as if there is one of those.)

I know what we started is just starting, but I am so excited about what has transpired. What happens tomorrow? Who knows. I know what happened this week.

My soul has been touched in an unfamiliar way. And I am giving thanks for that special gift that Alibi gave to me.

The Fine Art of Layering

A clear crisp 34 degree day in Central Oregon is sheer heaven. The snow covered Cascade range pops out like a 3-D image silhouetted by the most pure natural blue sky. The air is light, effortless. The winter sun at 3,500 feet is energizing and soothing at the same time.

Sure, it's 34 degrees. But it's a dry 34. There is no humidity, so no bone chilling effect of the east coast or the southern hemisphere or southern California for that matter. Dress appropriately and everything is just fine, my friends.

It's been years and years and years since I've layered my clothing much beyond a turtle neck under my polar or a tank top under a vee-neck sweater. While 34 degrees is refreshing, one must be smart in survival dressing.

My new favorite Paradox liner pants are worn under my Wrangler ranch jeans, a turtle neck under my cotton jacket under my down jacket, a darling ice blue soft thermal cap to top it all off. And sometimes with the sun, shedding a layer is more than necessary. With one layer, or all 3, I can stay outdoors for hours and be super comfortable.

Now, think back to layering as a child. If you think about it, it's really 3 layers of pants alone. Most of us are used to 2 layers: panties and trousers. So, after a while of drinking water and being outdoors, the call to pee does knock. Try breaking that age-old habit of just 2 layers. Not so easy! That third layer sure does come as a surprise when time is of the essence.

Thankfully, with winter just beginning in Central Oregon I believe I've got plenty of room to perfect the fine art of shedding layers. Now just to perfect my timing....

Tea Bag Wisdom

"Your life is based on the capacity of energy in you, not outside of you."
------Tea bag tag from Yogi