Just a moment in ranch life...
Driving down a quiet winding country road keeping an eye out for the deer who travel at dusk, catching a glimpse of a spotted fawn grazing on her preferred tidbits with momma just beyond curled up on the pillow of grass under a tree, the road lined by tall pines and junipers seeming like prison bars along the sides wanting to keep me present with nature and protecting me from an escape to worries beyond, the path guided by the soft yet stark brightness of the full moon, two happy ranch dogs in the back one with his nose propped on the edge of the open window taking in all the scents of outdoor life.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Lucas Rides a Wild Mustang
"The wind of heaven is that which blows between a horse's ears."
~~Arabian Proverb
After several weeks of preparations and minor remodeling, our guest house is ready for visitors. Our inaugural stay was had by my sister Laurie and her family. It was very exciting to share the fruits of our hard work with them. We were honored they came to spend some of their summer vacation with us.
Lucas had been quite excited to get here and meet all the animals. And for anyone who knows Lucas, you may not be surprised to hear that the animals found him very interesting.
Besides discovering a new best friend in Bodie and being chased by Peep Peep the rogue rooster, Lucas was enamored with the horses. At first, he didn't quite comprehend their magnitude and power. He approached them and pet them as he would a dog or cat.
I was nervous and kept a watchful eye at all times. Oh my! How will Hy Note respond to being "pet?" I should have known. The horses didn't respond to his actions but to his intentions and they welcomed his attention.
Perhaps the highlight of Lucas' stay was the ride he took on Cowboy Tim's wild Mustang, Burns. Yes, Burns is broke and well-trained. But the fact remains that given the chance, she would bolt and never look back.
Cowboy Tim gave Lucas a lesson in mounting a horse and then the subsequent important lesson in staying on and then the basics of riding. Lucas, once he became focused, took those words in and put them into immediate practice. My favorite part was when he reached forward, instinctively, and pet Burns on the neck for a good girl moment.
He rode Burns. We all stood by and watched, and as any respectable backseat driver would do, coached him in his riding. He didn't need our coaching.
Lucas thought he had had enough. With our encouragement--again, he stayed on and he rode more and had a grand time! You can't imagine the pride that was floating all around that round pen.
When he dismounted, perfectly, after a little adjustment and listening closely to Cowboy Tim's instructions, he got back on and off just to be sure he could.
Yes, our Little Creek Ranch still needs quite a bit more TLC. What we aren't short on are pleasant dreams come true.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Under the Orange Glow of Mars
We had a busy day around the ranch today working to get the guest house ready for Laurie and her family coming up in 2 weeks. A hot day, so inside projects were the name of the game.
At about 8pm we sat out on the porch with Tim and Tanya for a BBQ dinner. It is so pleasant on that porch; everyone who sits there says so. Despite the pull to just sit and chat, we all had our evening chores to get to before losing light.
Cowboy Tim, Tanya and Larry headed over to the neighboring ranch and I stayed to feed the horses. What was that?!
I heard this high-pitched yelping and some intense horse sounds which I'm not sure I can describe. I figured it was Sage, the Boarder Collie, doing her herding of one of the horses on that end.
I cut my chores short as the sky was quickly darkening and Bodie and I high-tailed it over to see what was going on.
One of Cowboy Tim's many talents is breaking, or starting, horses. Check him out at http://www.startmycolt.com/.
Tonight he was working with a wild Mustang mare from the Warm Springs Reservation. Equine Outreach, a local horse rescue facility, acquired several Mustangs and their trainers have no idea what to do with them. Cowboy Tim volunteered to take two of the Mustangs and start them.
This was the first time this horse had a lasso around her and has been in close proximity to people. We stood and watched as Cowboy Tim took a frightened, wild horse and brought her to the point of giving in to a pull on the lasso and to making eye contact. These are very big steps.
The night was mild, the dark sky full of summer constellations and Mars was glowing bright. Larry, Bodie and I stood on the outside of a wooden corral and watched the master at work. Sage ran circles around the corral doing her job to be sure the horse stayed where she last left it.
Cowboy Tim took the win and let the Mustang mare find safety with the other mare. Tomorrow he'll pick up where he left off with the next goal of getting a halter on the mare and working her with a lead rope.
This is an exhibition I don't want to miss!
At about 8pm we sat out on the porch with Tim and Tanya for a BBQ dinner. It is so pleasant on that porch; everyone who sits there says so. Despite the pull to just sit and chat, we all had our evening chores to get to before losing light.
Cowboy Tim, Tanya and Larry headed over to the neighboring ranch and I stayed to feed the horses. What was that?!
I heard this high-pitched yelping and some intense horse sounds which I'm not sure I can describe. I figured it was Sage, the Boarder Collie, doing her herding of one of the horses on that end.
I cut my chores short as the sky was quickly darkening and Bodie and I high-tailed it over to see what was going on.
One of Cowboy Tim's many talents is breaking, or starting, horses. Check him out at http://www.startmycolt.com/.
Tonight he was working with a wild Mustang mare from the Warm Springs Reservation. Equine Outreach, a local horse rescue facility, acquired several Mustangs and their trainers have no idea what to do with them. Cowboy Tim volunteered to take two of the Mustangs and start them.
This was the first time this horse had a lasso around her and has been in close proximity to people. We stood and watched as Cowboy Tim took a frightened, wild horse and brought her to the point of giving in to a pull on the lasso and to making eye contact. These are very big steps.
The night was mild, the dark sky full of summer constellations and Mars was glowing bright. Larry, Bodie and I stood on the outside of a wooden corral and watched the master at work. Sage ran circles around the corral doing her job to be sure the horse stayed where she last left it.
Cowboy Tim took the win and let the Mustang mare find safety with the other mare. Tomorrow he'll pick up where he left off with the next goal of getting a halter on the mare and working her with a lead rope.
This is an exhibition I don't want to miss!
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Peace Comes
There had been something bugging me about the day Tripper left me: June 25. Why that day? Why didn't he come to our new ranch? Was it a Friday that was bothering me? Was it the date? A persistent nagging I could not shake.
On Tuesday, I was talking with Bonnie and telling her the story of losing Tripper. She asked me when that happened and I gave her the date. Again, that tug. What was I missing?
I took some time to sit on the sofa with Pooker and let my mind go. Let the feelings come and go and I did my best to not grab onto any one of them but to let them wash over me and let me feel. My eyes were closed and my breathing was slow and calm.
I saw my friend Fred Burrill. Fred Burrill's birthday was June 25. He would have been in his early 100s this year.
Several of you know who Fred is, many of you do not.
Mr. Burrows as we called him as kids, lived up the street from us. He was a tall man with a tick in his walk. He walked everywhere, he did not drive. Fred would pass our house with his fishing rod in hand and his fishing vest packed with the necessities of his outing. Off he went to catch the bus to head to his post. We would yell over from the porch, "Hi Mr. Burrows!" And his smile would gleam in our direction and his large hand would wave back at us.
We went up to his house to get candy. And he had a never ending supply. He was a happy man. He seemed to have no worries, no enemies, no reason to not be smiling.
Many years later I was visiting my parents and who came walking up the street but Mr. Burrows. He was carrying his grocery bags, this time a little more hunched over. I asked him if I could help him home. We chatted on the way to his house and it was the first time I had ever been inside his house. It was small, a shotgun apartment.
From there, our friendship blossomed. And I learned his name was not Mr. Burrows but Mr. Burrill, or Fred.
I would visit him and we'd play cribbage or listen to Hawaiian music on his old style cassette player or we would head to the super market in my Volkswagen Fox--ample space for me, a bit cramped for my 6'4" friend.
During our visits, he told me stories of his early life, he shared precious pearls of wisdom and he always reminded me, "take it slow."
For one of his birthdays, my dear friend Suzanne came over with her cello and played him a private concert and sang to him. If you could have seen the smile on his face. It was simple and beautiful. I gave him a new music player with buttons that were easier for his curling fingers to press to play his music and with speakers a bit stronger so he could hear better with his aging ears.
One of our last outings was to the Kennedy Library. He didn't come inside, it was getting too difficult to get in and out of the car. But we sat there with the windows open feeling the ocean mist and listening to the waves hit the rocks below and the seagulls singing their nautical tunes. That was a special moment. We both were in the same car yet someplace else in our minds and hearts and enjoying every minute.
Fred moved into a nursing home and I saw him a couple of times. We still managed to get in a game of cribbage.
I moved to Argentina and my mother read me a letter sent to me by a family who knew him. Fred had passed away.
There is great wealth in having someone so wise in your life. His influence was significant. His steadiness and confidence was reassuring and inspiring. He was a good friend.
So, with this memory I have come to understand the meaning of Tripper's death. He came into my life at an important time of transition. He offered me stability and consistency. He was a rock of unconditional love. He was much like my dear old friend, Fred: the one who has been there and done that and who didn't get too riled about anything. He reminded me what was important in life. Fred and Tripper did that.
I am blessed to have had these friendships. And I believe they are intertwined. June 25 was no random day. June 25 made perfect sense and I am so relieved to have put this together.
When I get back to Long Beach and to my photos, I will post a photo of Fred on his concert birthday. You'll see everything in his smile.
On Tuesday, I was talking with Bonnie and telling her the story of losing Tripper. She asked me when that happened and I gave her the date. Again, that tug. What was I missing?
I took some time to sit on the sofa with Pooker and let my mind go. Let the feelings come and go and I did my best to not grab onto any one of them but to let them wash over me and let me feel. My eyes were closed and my breathing was slow and calm.
I saw my friend Fred Burrill. Fred Burrill's birthday was June 25. He would have been in his early 100s this year.
Several of you know who Fred is, many of you do not.
Mr. Burrows as we called him as kids, lived up the street from us. He was a tall man with a tick in his walk. He walked everywhere, he did not drive. Fred would pass our house with his fishing rod in hand and his fishing vest packed with the necessities of his outing. Off he went to catch the bus to head to his post. We would yell over from the porch, "Hi Mr. Burrows!" And his smile would gleam in our direction and his large hand would wave back at us.
We went up to his house to get candy. And he had a never ending supply. He was a happy man. He seemed to have no worries, no enemies, no reason to not be smiling.
Many years later I was visiting my parents and who came walking up the street but Mr. Burrows. He was carrying his grocery bags, this time a little more hunched over. I asked him if I could help him home. We chatted on the way to his house and it was the first time I had ever been inside his house. It was small, a shotgun apartment.
From there, our friendship blossomed. And I learned his name was not Mr. Burrows but Mr. Burrill, or Fred.
I would visit him and we'd play cribbage or listen to Hawaiian music on his old style cassette player or we would head to the super market in my Volkswagen Fox--ample space for me, a bit cramped for my 6'4" friend.
During our visits, he told me stories of his early life, he shared precious pearls of wisdom and he always reminded me, "take it slow."
For one of his birthdays, my dear friend Suzanne came over with her cello and played him a private concert and sang to him. If you could have seen the smile on his face. It was simple and beautiful. I gave him a new music player with buttons that were easier for his curling fingers to press to play his music and with speakers a bit stronger so he could hear better with his aging ears.
One of our last outings was to the Kennedy Library. He didn't come inside, it was getting too difficult to get in and out of the car. But we sat there with the windows open feeling the ocean mist and listening to the waves hit the rocks below and the seagulls singing their nautical tunes. That was a special moment. We both were in the same car yet someplace else in our minds and hearts and enjoying every minute.
Fred moved into a nursing home and I saw him a couple of times. We still managed to get in a game of cribbage.
I moved to Argentina and my mother read me a letter sent to me by a family who knew him. Fred had passed away.
There is great wealth in having someone so wise in your life. His influence was significant. His steadiness and confidence was reassuring and inspiring. He was a good friend.
So, with this memory I have come to understand the meaning of Tripper's death. He came into my life at an important time of transition. He offered me stability and consistency. He was a rock of unconditional love. He was much like my dear old friend, Fred: the one who has been there and done that and who didn't get too riled about anything. He reminded me what was important in life. Fred and Tripper did that.
I am blessed to have had these friendships. And I believe they are intertwined. June 25 was no random day. June 25 made perfect sense and I am so relieved to have put this together.
When I get back to Long Beach and to my photos, I will post a photo of Fred on his concert birthday. You'll see everything in his smile.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Kindness of Others
It is with the kindness of family, friends, neighbors, doctors and animals that I have been healing my heart.
Thank you to all of you who called, stopped by, sent messages and cards and sent your loving energy. From deep down inside I am grateful for your love and caring.
One of the gals at Bend Equine made this woven heart from Tripper's tail hair. It's really beautiful and incredibly special.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Healing a Heartache
Larry and I are in our new home and we are happy, comfortable and so pleased with the remodel results and having air conditioning at 85 degrees.
At the same time we both are feeling a profound sadness. An emptiness that aches and aches on.
On Friday, the day we were moving, in a matter of 3 hours I was faced with the most shocking and unexpected and extremely difficult decision of kissing Tripper one last time as he went off to horse heaven.
So much of what we created here at Om Ranch was created with Tripper in mind. From the fencing to the dry lot to rock collection and pathways. For some reason he wasn't meant to come here. I cannot grasp the why.
Many beautiful things have been said about Tripper and they all hold truth. He was strong and stoic and most other horses with the level of pain he had would be on the ground rolling. He stayed strong for me and did not want me to see his pain. He is in horse heaven under a shade tree with our neighbor horse Twist. His body was giving out a year and half ago and it was his spirit that came alive again to carry him this far. He regained his dignity, something very important to horses, and he died with dignity.
I cannot put words to the pain I feel in my heart.
Tripper opened a part of my heart that I didn't realize existed. He invited me to love in a different way. Without his daily encouragement I feel lost. Can I continue what he has shown me on my own?
Friday morning I went out to greet my boys as usual and I did not see Tripper's ears perking up over the hay and I did not hear his familiar good morning nicker. Alibi and Pippin were there, but not Tripper. I went looking for him up in lava land, a place he never went because the rocky surface was too much on his senior bones.
The gate is at one end of the dry lot so I started calling him and walking in. Some ways in I could see him walking toward my voice. As soon as he saw me, he went down. I ran to him and found him scratched and scraped from head to hoof from rolling around on the ground trying to ease his abdominal pain. He had been in pain for a while.
Gently I got the halter around his confused head and worked with him to get him up. Carla, a gal boarding her horses there, came up to help me and the two of us kept him walking. Pippin and Alibi were behind us, encouraging him to keep going. We got him up to the barn and put him in the round pen to keep him going.
He wanted to lie down and roll again and we had to work hard to not allow that. I called the vet and it seemed to take hours before they arrived. A call for colic is an emergency response.
When they arrived they did a preliminary exam and Tripper's heart rate was dangerously high. They gave him medication to ease the pain. They gave him a sedative so they could put a tube up his nose and down his throat. They had to give him a second dose and still he seemed not to be too sedated. He was a gentleman while they did what they had to to assess his condition.
We walked him back down through the dry lot and through the gate of Jeff and Barb's place to use their trailer. Every horse along the way was calling out to him. He didn't have the energy to walk but he did and he kept going. A good 1/2 mile.
After some other tests, it was determined that part of his small intestine had died, most likely due to a lipoma that cut it off. Apparently, this is somewhat common in senior horses. Surgery didn't suggest high positive odds and even if the surgery did go well, his expected time would maybe be a year.
I had to decide fairly quickly because if we wanted to do surgery, we had to do it right away. There was no knowing how much of his small intestine was affected until the surgery and then only so much of it could be removed.
Tripper stayed standing the entire time. He moved as he was asked. He was polite and kept his manners. I couldn't stop holding him and kissing him and comforting him. I asked him to comfort me.
I held Tripper until his last breaths. When he was gone, I stayed with him for a while just caressing him and playing with his very soft mane. I kissed him again and felt that little bump in his forehead that I felt everyday and I smelled his fresh sweet coat, a combination I enjoyed every day for a year and a half. With my eyes closed I could tell you it was him.
Later when I got back home I went up to lava land to see where he was and what he had experienced. I didn't realize it until then that he was behind my house. He came looking for me.
He never made it to our new home. Here we remember him and talk about him often and we cry. It was a shock. And it is a deep loss that we will feel for a very long time.
I miss my friend. I miss my horse. I miss that part of my heart being touched every morning.
At the same time we both are feeling a profound sadness. An emptiness that aches and aches on.
On Friday, the day we were moving, in a matter of 3 hours I was faced with the most shocking and unexpected and extremely difficult decision of kissing Tripper one last time as he went off to horse heaven.
So much of what we created here at Om Ranch was created with Tripper in mind. From the fencing to the dry lot to rock collection and pathways. For some reason he wasn't meant to come here. I cannot grasp the why.
Many beautiful things have been said about Tripper and they all hold truth. He was strong and stoic and most other horses with the level of pain he had would be on the ground rolling. He stayed strong for me and did not want me to see his pain. He is in horse heaven under a shade tree with our neighbor horse Twist. His body was giving out a year and half ago and it was his spirit that came alive again to carry him this far. He regained his dignity, something very important to horses, and he died with dignity.
I cannot put words to the pain I feel in my heart.
Tripper opened a part of my heart that I didn't realize existed. He invited me to love in a different way. Without his daily encouragement I feel lost. Can I continue what he has shown me on my own?
Friday morning I went out to greet my boys as usual and I did not see Tripper's ears perking up over the hay and I did not hear his familiar good morning nicker. Alibi and Pippin were there, but not Tripper. I went looking for him up in lava land, a place he never went because the rocky surface was too much on his senior bones.
The gate is at one end of the dry lot so I started calling him and walking in. Some ways in I could see him walking toward my voice. As soon as he saw me, he went down. I ran to him and found him scratched and scraped from head to hoof from rolling around on the ground trying to ease his abdominal pain. He had been in pain for a while.
Gently I got the halter around his confused head and worked with him to get him up. Carla, a gal boarding her horses there, came up to help me and the two of us kept him walking. Pippin and Alibi were behind us, encouraging him to keep going. We got him up to the barn and put him in the round pen to keep him going.
He wanted to lie down and roll again and we had to work hard to not allow that. I called the vet and it seemed to take hours before they arrived. A call for colic is an emergency response.
When they arrived they did a preliminary exam and Tripper's heart rate was dangerously high. They gave him medication to ease the pain. They gave him a sedative so they could put a tube up his nose and down his throat. They had to give him a second dose and still he seemed not to be too sedated. He was a gentleman while they did what they had to to assess his condition.
We walked him back down through the dry lot and through the gate of Jeff and Barb's place to use their trailer. Every horse along the way was calling out to him. He didn't have the energy to walk but he did and he kept going. A good 1/2 mile.
After some other tests, it was determined that part of his small intestine had died, most likely due to a lipoma that cut it off. Apparently, this is somewhat common in senior horses. Surgery didn't suggest high positive odds and even if the surgery did go well, his expected time would maybe be a year.
I had to decide fairly quickly because if we wanted to do surgery, we had to do it right away. There was no knowing how much of his small intestine was affected until the surgery and then only so much of it could be removed.
Tripper stayed standing the entire time. He moved as he was asked. He was polite and kept his manners. I couldn't stop holding him and kissing him and comforting him. I asked him to comfort me.
I held Tripper until his last breaths. When he was gone, I stayed with him for a while just caressing him and playing with his very soft mane. I kissed him again and felt that little bump in his forehead that I felt everyday and I smelled his fresh sweet coat, a combination I enjoyed every day for a year and a half. With my eyes closed I could tell you it was him.
Later when I got back home I went up to lava land to see where he was and what he had experienced. I didn't realize it until then that he was behind my house. He came looking for me.
He never made it to our new home. Here we remember him and talk about him often and we cry. It was a shock. And it is a deep loss that we will feel for a very long time.
I miss my friend. I miss my horse. I miss that part of my heart being touched every morning.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Readying for the Next Chapter
It was a fantastically busy day today. A very warm temperature, a lot of manual labor, multiple tasks going on at a time. By 11:40pm tonight I finally had time to take the shower I was desperately needing about 7 hours ago.
Off rinsed the sweat, dust, dirt, sun block, dog licks, horse licks, mud, strawberry juice from a wild get-away berry, hay. I'm sure there was something else layered on.
We welcomed our first 4 horse guests to our new ranch: Om Ranch. To great success I must add.
A lot of hard work went into creating the dry lot. Everything from fence building to rock and dirt moving to picking up the remains from previous burn piles that never quite burned.
At about 6:45pm our first 2 guests arrived: Faramir and Hye Note. Jeff and Stephanie walked them around the lot to show them the lay of the land and then let them off halter. We all watched to see if they would scare from the new surroundings and fencing. To the contrary, they seemed to just love their new home! They played and ran and made new paths and within minutes Hye Note rolled around in the dirt claiming his space.
Whew!
The other 2, Belle and Zack, arrived shortly after. Hye Note and Faramir showed them the way. Everyone seemed at ease and comfortable.
Our new endeavor: horse boarding. Off to a very good start.
We moved most of the kitchen today. We have been moving our clothes over, shoes, books, things that are easy to toss into boxes and put into the trunk or front seat--the back seat has been recently occupied by 2 very willing to ride dogs.
Tonight is our last night sleeping here at Dayton Rd. We have been here since March 2009. Many stories have come from our time here. Many lessons learned. Many hours spent with very special neighbors and now friends. We are truly grateful for this experience.
And we both agree, we are ready for the next chapter. As Larry likes to say, "It's time for Mary Poppins to fly." It's time.
Tomorrow we move our bed and a few other choice items. Alibi and Tripper come with us tomorrow as do Bodie, Felon and Pooker. The chickens will come over the weekend as we empty everything else out.
Our new home is wonderful! Larry has done an amazing job with the remodel. It really wasn't a remodel, it was a full on gutting. If you could only see what the house was like when we bought it and what it is like today--spectacular.
The island in our kitchen looks out over the living room and on through a big picture window that carries us to the lawn, across the driveway and to the front pasture. The pasture rolls down toward the road and then across to our new neighbors' pastures, up toward their homes and barns and continues on all the way out to the south and east to Aubrey Butte out to the Ochocos.
When people come up to the house and look out, they are surprised at just how far you can see. Expansive comes to mind.
A couple of the pieces I ordered for our yoga room came today. Wall art. Very happy with the purchases.
We have been very fortunate to have found a hard working team to help us get to this point. Jesus, Gloria and Tim have really kicked in when it mattered most. Of course, there have been countless contractors around, oddly enough most have mono-syllabic names.
So, tonight as I prepare for my last night sleep here, I can hear Slammer outside calling for his friend Faramir. Tomorrow I know Pippin will be calling for Alibi and Tripper.
Just as we all experience a move, so do the horses.
Off rinsed the sweat, dust, dirt, sun block, dog licks, horse licks, mud, strawberry juice from a wild get-away berry, hay. I'm sure there was something else layered on.
We welcomed our first 4 horse guests to our new ranch: Om Ranch. To great success I must add.
A lot of hard work went into creating the dry lot. Everything from fence building to rock and dirt moving to picking up the remains from previous burn piles that never quite burned.
At about 6:45pm our first 2 guests arrived: Faramir and Hye Note. Jeff and Stephanie walked them around the lot to show them the lay of the land and then let them off halter. We all watched to see if they would scare from the new surroundings and fencing. To the contrary, they seemed to just love their new home! They played and ran and made new paths and within minutes Hye Note rolled around in the dirt claiming his space.
Whew!
The other 2, Belle and Zack, arrived shortly after. Hye Note and Faramir showed them the way. Everyone seemed at ease and comfortable.
Our new endeavor: horse boarding. Off to a very good start.
We moved most of the kitchen today. We have been moving our clothes over, shoes, books, things that are easy to toss into boxes and put into the trunk or front seat--the back seat has been recently occupied by 2 very willing to ride dogs.
Tonight is our last night sleeping here at Dayton Rd. We have been here since March 2009. Many stories have come from our time here. Many lessons learned. Many hours spent with very special neighbors and now friends. We are truly grateful for this experience.
And we both agree, we are ready for the next chapter. As Larry likes to say, "It's time for Mary Poppins to fly." It's time.
Tomorrow we move our bed and a few other choice items. Alibi and Tripper come with us tomorrow as do Bodie, Felon and Pooker. The chickens will come over the weekend as we empty everything else out.
Our new home is wonderful! Larry has done an amazing job with the remodel. It really wasn't a remodel, it was a full on gutting. If you could only see what the house was like when we bought it and what it is like today--spectacular.
The island in our kitchen looks out over the living room and on through a big picture window that carries us to the lawn, across the driveway and to the front pasture. The pasture rolls down toward the road and then across to our new neighbors' pastures, up toward their homes and barns and continues on all the way out to the south and east to Aubrey Butte out to the Ochocos.
When people come up to the house and look out, they are surprised at just how far you can see. Expansive comes to mind.
A couple of the pieces I ordered for our yoga room came today. Wall art. Very happy with the purchases.
We have been very fortunate to have found a hard working team to help us get to this point. Jesus, Gloria and Tim have really kicked in when it mattered most. Of course, there have been countless contractors around, oddly enough most have mono-syllabic names.
So, tonight as I prepare for my last night sleep here, I can hear Slammer outside calling for his friend Faramir. Tomorrow I know Pippin will be calling for Alibi and Tripper.
Just as we all experience a move, so do the horses.
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