Can You Imagine

This book is a true story about the authors life after being accidentally shot by a family member.

I don’t usually do book reviews on this blog, but this read is definitely worth a mention.

Don’t be misled by the innocent title. This memoir is the inspiring story of a young girl who at nine years old was robbed of the youth most of us take for granted.

A children’s afternoon outing ends in a hospital miles from family and their farm with her spinal cord severed. She will never walk again. She may never see her thirties.

Her determination and bravery will inspire you as you follow her journey and dreams of owning dogs, horses, riding, and living on a farm again.

Partly from necessity, she discovers she has more than love for animals, she has a talent for training dogs to aid and enhance her way of life.

You’ll read about her special companions who also served a purpose and how they helped add meaning to her life.

 As tragic as this story is, this memoir doesn’t dwell on the negatives. It’s an enlightening and uplifting read. Although, I needed a tissue a time or two.

I can personally vouch for the great person this author became having known her now for forty some years.

The book “Dogs, Horses and Me” is available on Amazon in print and ebook versions.

Rolling In The Hay

Day two and women power gets the job done.

Mister and I had a change of pace from afternoon boat rides at the lake to helping haul hay.

When the bales need to go where the tractor can’t maneuver you literally roll them into place and tip them over by hand.

Here in central Alberta, hay is scarce right now due to bad growing and baling conditions. With many farmers thinking they may not get a second cut, we travelled farther then usual for the daughters winter stock for her horse.

The first of the two day haul was a bit of a episode because of rain issues, a blown hydraulic hose on the tractor, and things just not going to plan. A crew of Mister, The Daughter and myself regrouped and finally waited for reinforcements to arrive (The Daughters Husband, the Daughter-In-Law, and the newest grandson who I’ll refer to as “Little One”.) Forty-five minutes later the job was completed.

Little One had a great time. Grandpa took him for his first quad rides, Auntie took him to park the lawn mower, he sat in a saddle, visited with their dog and cat, and got a swing in a bucket. His smiles and giggles lightened the moods of everyone, especially the three original crew members.

Because of being another work day, it was Mister, The Daughter and myself who hit the road early the next day to get the second and last load.

Once we were back, The Daughter-In-Law and Little One came over again to lend a hand. Things went smoothly with Mister on the tractor bringing bales up from the trailer. The girls rolled them through the barn to the hay shelter. From there we all pushed and pulled them into place and then stood them on end. My main job was taking pictures and watching Little One. It’s great to be grandma. The chore was done in record time.

Maybe it was because of Little One’s good job supervising from his Jolly Jumper.

Do you have great memories from living or visiting a farm?

Country Life

What’s that noise?

Faint rustling followed by squeaks and gurgles of a baby fussing came from the feed and tack stall next to the booth where Mister and I sat at the horse event. Exchanging an knowing glance with my husband I went to investigate.

Pictured above is what I found. Our daughter with this sheepish look sprinkling hay on her little brother who was supposed to be asleep.

Our family often jokes about the saying, “Were you born in a barn.” Although not born in one, our kids spent a good portion of their childhoods in either a barn, an arena, or outside and nearby while we did our chores.

Four legs, manes, tails, and everything horse best describes our daughter’s likes.

For a few years, a spring horse took center-stage in our bay window. She spent endless hours in that saddle, her stare focused outside, and her eyes glazed with little girl daydreams.

The toys that entertained her while indoors were all horse related. My Little Pony’s, Lego stable sets, and the jeep, horse trailer and horses for her Barbie’s. Even the multi story, upright, Barbie house Mister made her, of course, had a floor level barn included.

She was happiest outside, even if just watching the horses eat or roam the pastures. As an adult, she still spends her spare time outside with her horse or in the barn.

She recently posted this picture and description on Instagram. (@candie214)

Pretty sure this is why I like watching people ride, I spent hours on those tires.

If you look close, you’ll see the small child saddle I’m riding in so I could take the edge off “Dr. Pepper” before she rode.

In her I see the younger me. Doing barn or farm chores was, and is, rarely considered work and when given a choice they trump household chores.

To us horses aren’t a hobby, they are a lifestyle. Location has changed this for me since I live at a lake resort now, but it’s still her way of life.

This is “Nugget” Her current, young, Quarter Horse Gelding she’s training.

We were blessed as parents to have children, especially teenagers, whose passions meant they were happy at home.

Our son’s interests changed from horses over time and if you haven’t already, check out my post, “Our Version of a Norman Rockwell” for a glimpse into what makes the male’s of our family tick.

Did you have a childhood passion?

Do you still enjoy it?

Our Version of a Norman Rockwell

Wrenches and grease, are items often involved when Mister and our son are bonding. That’s what I call the time they spend hunched over or laying under a vehicle as they solve an issue or replace a part.

In our family a picture like above would make a more realistic Norman Rockwell scene.

Mister and the son share a fascination and knowledge for anything motorized. Finding the right word to describe their hobby is tricky. Even, hobby, by its definition is misleading, because many things they work on out of necessity not choice. Sometimes the chore is physically taxing, and by their muttered words they don’t always enjoy what they’re doing.

What I know, is they can often listen to a sputtering engine, guess what’s wrong and fix the problem.

They can recognize a vehicle’s make and model with a glimpse of the grill or taillights. Mister more so with the older ones while the son has a keenness for exotic cars and newer models.

They dream and envision building the perfect shop, like the daughter and I do an extravagant barn.

The son drove tractors, lawn mowers, etc. long before having his licence. Behind the wheel of the family 4×4 truck he used gallons of fuel as he practiced in the field while Mister and his father baled hay.

Having children in high school can cause parents stress, but we were fortunate because of this interest our son developed. Instead of wondering if he was partying or getting into trouble, we could look out the back window up towards the shop and know him and his friend were inside. The distance between neighbors in the country allowed their music to play and the shop lights to burn long into the nights while the two of them tinkered on vehicles.

Our sons car which he’s had since late high school. Mister and I were on a trip when we got a call that him and his oldest sister found it for sale.

This is once it was home, and they removed the worn engine.

Then on a cold snowy winter night, as a family, we pushed and loaded the car onto our flat-deck for its ride to the high school the next day. There the son and his friend put a new motor in as a grade 12, Shop Class project.

After a few more changes, and additions this is how it turned out.

As silly as it sounds we’ve always named our vehicles, the son calls his car, “Sueño Azul,” “Azul,” for short. That’s Spanish for Blue Dream.

You know you have a car guy in the family when a picture of his daily driver, above, is enlarged and showcased on the wall of his home.

Encourage your children to have an interest or hobby and be grateful and embrace the opportunity if it is one you can enjoy together.

Does your child have a interest or hobby?

Did they pick it up from you or your spouse?

 

The Hill Has Eyes

October Changes To an Innocent Pink Flamingo

I was the last one left awake inside the darkened house. On my way to bed, I entered the kitchen. An almost full moon cast enough glow in the back pasture that as I passed the patio doors, horse silhouettes on the hilltop came into view.

Their poses stopped me mid-stride. Staggered in line, they stood all facing the same direction with their heads held high, ears pointed forward.

I mimicked their stillness. Each beat of my heart came faster than the last as I waited for them to return to grazing. I knew what their actions meant when they didn’t. Something or someone was up there.

Should I wake my husband? No, I could handle this. On tip-toes, I jogged to the back door. I grabbed a flashlight, slipped my bare feet into cowboy boots, and covered my knee-length satin nightie with a quilted flannel barn shirt.

The yard lights were already off and I didn’t touch the switch. Outside the flashlight remained dark in my hand. My goal wasn’t to scare away, what or who, intrigued the horses. I had a hunch about the goings on up there and hence a plan in mind.

Again I tip-toed, this time across the backyard. My caution worked, the horses interest never diverted my way. When the barn became a barrier between me and them my pace quickened. Now, only the hill remained an obstacle, and if I stayed low and quiet, I should make it without drawing attention.

The closer I got to the top, voices became louder and clearer in a hushed yet understandable two person conversation. Although odd for the situation, it was laced with barely contained laughter and giggles. I had figured right. I knew these culprits and what they were doing.

Familiar with the surroundings, I crept forward unseen. I waited and listened getting a sense of the person’s whereabouts.

When they sounded near, I sprung from my crouch behind a fallen tree with a roar loud enough that the snoopy horses spun and fled down the hill.

Caught in the act of innocent revenge, two of my best girlfriends almost dropped to their knees with startled screams followed by muttered curses.

On this late Saturday in October, the husband and I had arranged for these two besties to do our evening chores under the pretence we would be away. When in actuality we spent hours staging the barn as a haunt in favor of Halloween’s approach.

We strung rubber bats in the darkened paths to light switches. Rubber mice and snakes got placed and positioned in or on things they needed for feeding the hay and grain.

Dressed in dark coveralls, the husband and I hid concealed by the water-tank behind the barn. From there we heard them encounter our gags and props, and their squeals and comments entertained us. The most fulfilling reaction happened when they slid the back door into the hay shed open. We had a stuffed bedsheet rigged to fly at them like a ghost and the shrieks that caused made our efforts worthwhile.

To have this plan work, our truck had to be off the yard. That afternoon the husband had driven it up a steep trail and parked it in the bush by the back pasture. We figured it could stay the night there and so we planned to retrieve it the next day.

Knowing my girlfriends, when I saw the horses acting strange and watching something, I guessed they had figured out where the truck was.

When I jumped out and interrupted them, it already had balloons tied to the mirrors and streamer decorated bumpers. The toilet paper wrapping had just begun.

I’m uncertain how long the three of us exchanged stories, laughed and visited that night on the hill, but the sun rose not long after I went to bed.

 ∗∗∗∗∗

Halloween for me, brings on fond memories like this, of fun times with family and friends.

With our young children, we did the traditional, dressing-up, decorating the yard, and door to door “Treat or Treating.” Although, being in the country meant we drove them house to house. Often a couple dads or moms rode together while the spouses stayed home and handed out treats. A get together at one of their homes afterwards usually followed.

Once our daughter and son got older, we traveled into the city for “Fright Night” at Fort Edmonton Park. Either our kids brought along friends or we met the oldest daughter, her husband and their children there.

Actors and volunteers haunted the historic buildings and sites with different levels of intensity. They handed out treats to the little ones, and had activities scattered within the park. We enjoyed hay rides, blazing bonfires and hot chocolate which warmed our chilled bodies. It was always a great time.

As a family we loved dressing-up for Halloween. It took weeks to plan and put together costumes and often we had themes for the night in the city. Here are a couple.

 

From “Tombstone” the Earp’s & Doc Holiday

 From “The Wizard of Oz”

Have you ever decorated a homemade haunted house or yard?

Or Have you been through one?

Passion or Simple Pleasure (Horses)

 

Passion Started Young

Crossing the threshold into the building I inhale a long, slow breath through my nose. A hint of sweet alfalfa hay greets me first, then it mixes with a scent so unique, I can think of nothing to compare it to. This odor can cause people to crinkle or cover their noses with distaste, it makes my heart flutter with joy though. The smell of horses is refreshing, revitalizing, and overpowers my daily worries.

Moving deeper into the barn I enter the tack room. My nostrils twitch with delight at an added fragrance. Leather, some new but most aged and oiled. A rich homey scent that candle and cologne manufactures try to duplicate but in my opinion they never quite succeed.

The sight of work worn saddles always triggers my admiration but in this room it’s reflection that causes me to pause. I know by experience the number of hours, days, even years it took to get them broke-in to their current comfortable state. A few, I’ve owned for over forty years. Fond memories surface, and I crave another ride.

            I no longer live in the country where I spent hours a day with the horses, yet I’m thankful I can still return for visits. Now though, it’s the youngest daughters new horse “Nugget” that greets us with a soft nicker.

Nothing soothes the soul like the satiny feel of a horse’s coat or the unbiased companionship formed when you show them kindness.

“Nugget” for short

The above paragraphs may seem like a dramatic explanation of a simple scene, but it comes from my heart.

What I feel for these majestic four-legged creatures is, Passion.

Long-lived and Forever Strong.

If you ask a horse owner, “So, do you ride Western or English?” And their answer is, “I have a saddle with the thing in front to hold onto when it gets bumpy.” I think it’s fair to assume they own a horse for simple pleasure, it’s not their passion. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that, it’s just an observation.

These are 2 of the previous long time family members.

“Bear and Cisco” R.I.P.

Do you enjoy Horses? 

Are you passionate about a hobby?

What is your hobby?

 

Rural Living or City Dweller?

This or That Thursday is here ! 

Which Lifestyle Do or Would you Enjoy Best?

Join in the Fun, Put your preference in the Comment Box.

     Or    

Peaceful Country Living       or       City Skylines and Conveniences?

I was city born and raised, but moved and lived most of my life in the country. Looking out at horses grazing in pastures is a sight dear and special to me. Our children grew up with sand in their shoes and dirt under their fingernails, climbing haystacks and exploring bush trails. The grandchildren had experienced the same when they came to visit. The lifestyle choice meant some days ended with being bone tired from chores but the hard work and long hours were worth it.

At times I missed a city’s convenience, being able to walk to a store or restaurant, or having pizza delivered to your door.

Currently, my husband and I live somewhere between rural and city. We hang our hats at a lake and golf resort. With a corner lot, the view of three fairways from our cottage and maybe a two minute walk to the lake we get the open space feel. Like living rural, we still have to drive to the nearest town or city for our supplies but on the other hand we can walk within the resort to visit friends or go to its restaurant for a meal.

Let’s see which is more popular.

Put a quick or explained response in the comment box.

My answer is “Rural” country living.

Although part of me still longs to be a city dweller again.

The next regular Blog post will be Monday.