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On Riding Bareback

In the winter, especially, it is the only way to go. Riding bareback improves balance and gives a better feel for the horse. How can anyone not love the smell of a horse, so warm and earthy. So why is it that when I come in from a nice ride, pleasantly exhausted and ready to relax for a bit, my husband gets mad at me for sitting on the couch?

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I don’t think horse dirt really counts as dirt.

Winter Riding

I got out for a ride on my pony yesterday. It has been a bad year for riding with the cold and ice and when I have gotten out it has been on Odie. The little Coyote has been neglected. He made that very well known during our ride.

My darling husband took The Goblin Child with out with him all morning to move a fence, put propane in the tank and feed cows. When he sent her in so he could get non child friendly tasks accomplished she went to sleep, immediately.  I was able to accomplish all kinds of things around the house, mostly cleaning. When he finally did come in he ordered me out of the house to enjoy some of the moderately nice weather.

I grabbed my bridle and a hand, make that pocket, full of horse cookies and went looking for horses. I could tell Coyote hadn’t been ridden for awhile because he came up looking for me. When he is being ridden regularly he heads the opposite direction. I slipped him his mandatory cookie with the bit and hopped on. He was very polite as we rode around their pen, we checked the hay bale and mostly looked for places to ride that were out of the wind. The other two ponies followed us, Jerry with short bursts of running and bucking, Odie cautiously vaguely curious about where we were going. I still don’t know if that strange pony even has a canter.

Bored with that I forced Coyote out the gate for a lap around the stack yard. We plodded slowly out checking out the cows and generally looking around. Then we reached the corner, the fence line, the turn around place. Every thing changed. We were headed

I swear this is what we look like

I swear this is what we look like

home, like a shot. His head came up, he pranced and danced, and leaped into the air performing high school dressage moves.

Sitting, bareback, upon my rampaging pony  I pondered the intricacies of riding. I could feel how still and steady and confident my seat was. Granted, I had a death grip on the mane, but there was not a drop of fear or tightness. Together we swayed and dipped in an intricate dance. I could feel his back muscles tighten and release with every spook and hop and I remained still, the eye of this whirling vortex.

So why can’t I ride? This is so frustrating. On Coyote, almost, nothing scares me, on any other horse everything terrifies me. It’s not fair. I am more nervous riding Odie, our twenty year old perspective kids pony. I do find him a little alarming to ride, I believe it is the lack of controls. I do mean that in plural, not a lack of control but the lack of buttons and levers. There isn’t the complete control over movement in any body part like I am used to. Coyote can be trying to run home sideways and I can touch him with my leg behind the girth and straighten his body, bringing the hindquarters back in line. Riding a horse without those controls is like driving a car with out, I don’t know, steering I guess.

Unfortunately it’s more than that, I think years of starting colts ruined me. I know what horses are capable of, I’ve seen a mare who could kick a saddle as it was placed on her back. I know that they can still kick you no matter where you stand. My own little Jerry has gone from standing completely still to gone out from underneath me in an instant. That quickness made her a great cow horse but I don’t trust her with the child or husband even now that she is old and lame. I often think that if I could ride colts with the same confidence as I do Coyote I wouldn’t get bucked off but I think I used to ride all horses like that and it must not have worked because here I am old, sore and sure that I am coming off.

Sometimes I wish for a quiet well behaved horse but mostly I enjoy my wild, little, old pony. He makes me feel like I can still ride without forcing me to be able to still ride.

The Three C’s of Child Training

Training horses, training children, what difference?

Training horses, training children, what difference?

I have noticed, looking back, that I made many posts, while I was pregnant, pondering the possible similarities between training a horse and training a child. I haven’t done any since having her at least partially because I don’t want to curse myself.  If I say that I have this down then she may turn out awful. Still I feel safe in saying that there are many strong similarities. They are creatures who don’t speak and communicate through actions.

Up late one night feeding The Goblin Child I decided that I would go on the clinic circuit offering my training advice, for horses and children, to the millions. For millions of course. It was such a simple concept, my training theory. The secret to training is for the trainer to possess a few important qualities.

The next morning I couldn’t remember what my great training strategy had been. All I knew was that I would market it as The Three C’s. Occasionally I would remember one or two and I would imagine what life on the road would be like as I offered my genius to the masses. If only I could remember all three at once. The amazing loss of sleep involved in the first year of parenting was a handy excuse for my forgetfulness.

Then one day I remembered. It was great, the child started sleeping through the night and it came to me. There was just one problem. The qualities didn’t actually start with C. It blew my whole spiel. Not to mention it was a little embarrassing but who can remember how to spell at two in the morning. I still stand by the importance of my three c’s even if they don’t all start with c.

Calm, Quiet and Confident.

It would have been so great we could have given Clinton Anderson a run for his money. Oh well, I shall have to confine my training to my own child. Poor thing, she is receiving all my pent up need to train. This is every bit as much fun as training a horse, just a little longer in seeing results. That all important proper timing for the release of pressure, making sure you are rewarding the right thing, is still the most important. I do spend some time wishing that we could go for lessons. As with horses it’s important to know what the goal is and while I understand the end goal some of the smaller day to day goals are a little harder to pinpoint.

A horse is started after two, we work on giving to pressure on the ground, giving to the bit and saddling. When is the proper point to teach a child to drink from a real cup? Use a spoon? We work, we play but without shows how do we compare? Oh well, I suppose that would be even worse for children than it can be for horses.

Oh, wait.

Home Schooling as a Very Real Possibility

I always enjoy reading about home schooling. Some people look at me oddly and ask if we have an older child when the subject comes up. I admit it may be a bit early to be deciding, she isn’t even two yet. That gives us quite a few years since preschool is not happening and kindergarten is questionable. It shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise, I train it’s what I do, be it horses or my child. Is there any difference really? I always say that she will be going to public school only as long as the Hay Springs school is open. If our dear government ever does manage get it closed then that’s it we’re home schooling.

The rumors have circulated for decades that it will close. Recently when Mirage Flats School was closed for budgetary reasons they started up again as strong as ever. On the other side of the fence is the superintendent who quickly squashes any rumors as silly and says they are here to stay. There are also those who believe we are positioned far enough away from any larger town that the trip for a child to reach another school would be far too long. I am not saying that there is any chance of closing now, but…

It always amazes me just how hard our caring legislature back east in Lincoln tries to get ride of all schools in this part of the state. They managed to have all the rural schools closed. No more little one room school houses, bus those kids to town. I suppose I can see the sense of that, from a strictly budgetary point of view. This latest bill they are trying to pass isn’t necessarily closing any schools, yet. What it is doing simply doesn’t make any sense at all. Unless of course they are easing us into it. Please do read it here. We have a gentleman named Jim Scheer to thank for this piece of brilliance, not surprisingly he is from back east.

They feel that small schools, under 650 students, should have to group together until they reach a district size of  1,300. They don’t all have to share schools, just have the same calender and superintendent. Why? What possible purpose can that serve if not to ease us into more consolidation? If I could get a logical reasonable explanation of what they are hoping to accomplish here I might be all for it. But I haven’t found one, just a list of rule changes as though they are playing a board game and got tired of the old rules.

In my quick look upon the internets, Chadron appears to be safe. Gordon-Rushville also sneaks past, they have already combined. I haven’t heard how that is working for them. I have heard, completely unsubstantiated, rumors of knife fights in the city park between high school kids, yeah that’s enough for me, she’s not going there. Plus it is a good forty five minute drive. Would they want to join up ( to quote Monty Roberts 😉 ) with us? What is going to be in this for them? For any of us for that matter? And where are we supposed to find enough children to meet their 1,300 required? Hemingford is close and together we could top 650 but that only counted if you started with that many. Then, what the heck, we could throw in Crawford, with their two hundred some students, they are only and hour away. Wait that only brings us to ruffly 900. Okay, the entire panhandle, minus larger cities, will join together for one properly sized district. This is going to be great.

I have not been able to find any discussion on this although I know it must be out there. I would like someone to please tell me why? What is the purpose of this? All I know for sure is that it is one more step towards homeschooling.

A Comparison of Twenty Year Olds

A year of so ago my mom bought a very nice twenty year old Morgan gelding, a former show horse and a former Amish cart horse. He has proven to be a sound, quiet, dependable and just all around good horse.

This winter I bought a twenty year old Paso Fino or Peruvian Paso gelding a former trail horse. He has been very good so far it remains to be seen exactly how he will work out for us.

I got to ride Indy when we went back to visit over Christmas and as expected our two very different twenty year old bays rode nothing alike. They match in color, almost dead on, and age but that is where any similarity ends.



Indy has the most beautiful legs I have ever seen on a horse. They are a favorite body part of mine. Is it weird that I have a leg fetish? No hoof no horse is how the saying goes. He has big, beautiful bone, large, round hooves and his legs are nice and clean after years of trotting down the road for more miles a day than us recreational riders can begin to imagine.

He is big, huge by my pony sized horse standards. 16 something maybe? He may have seemed bigger than he really is to me because I had to mount him from the ground. He rides like the tank he is, like driving an extended cab, long bed, pickup. His trot was gigantic and springy, as a youngster he might have been a great dressage horse.

As it is, he has been driven his whole life and his neck is upside down and his whole body stiff as a board. Mom has been doing a commendable job trying to teach him to give to the bit. She has even taught him to give to the leg, a little bit. Not for me, but she can get gates off of him, it made me feel a bit incompetent. She can also get a good fast walk out of him. I don’t doubt that those long athletic legs of his can speed along. Not for me of course, the day I rode him we plodded through the snow and walking was hard enough without having to add speed.

Ody has some of the worst legs I have ever seen on a horse, They look kind of like toothpicks. Slender and sloping inwards to a narrow pastern and tiny hoof. It amazes me that he was able to be ridden in the Black Hills or by anyone over fifty pounds. I say over and over again that if he had been a youngster I would never have bought him. I would have figured him for lame by ten. He is not young though he has reached a grand old age and seems to be going strong so who is to say there is anything wrong with his



toothpick legs. Why would he need big bone when….

He is tiny himself. I believe the add said 13.2, just the height I was looking for. Not a real pony, to small for an adult to ride, but a pony sized horse, big enough for me and the husband. He is easy to get on and we have less distance to the ground if we fall off. He rides like a sports car, little and zippy. I am assuming you picked up on the gaited part from the breed, great suspension, not a drop of bounce.

His neck bends the right way, he gives to the bit with contact. He is very responsive with a beautiful light rein, luckily because he has no clue what any other cue means. Nobody has ever asked him to give to leg pressure and I am unsure whether it is worth trying to teach. He is meant to be a child’s horse. A child who’s legs will not reach his side for so many years to come that it is doubtful if he will be around by then. I definitely need to teach him to step over to the mounting block. He is so short it seems pointless but, back to the small child again, he will be tall for her.

He was ridden in a mechanical hackmore, I hate those. I switched him over to a nice smooth snaffle and he is working nicely. I got my four wheeler riding husband out on him, finally, and they did good together. My theory is that learning to ride, for husband and child, will be much easier with out the trot to deal with. When he speeds up in stead of bouncing and getting scarey it’s a cool smooth gait and just fun.

It is so much fun having our matching horses, maybe we should start coordinating our clothes and stuff too.

To all those people who said twenty was so old, why would I buy such an old horse, take a look at the collection of aged horses at moms barn. The oldest of the bunch had to be put down a couple of years ago, not for age related reasons. She was thirty four and still so hot she was a handful to ride.


Our Local Drama, A Comedy of Errors

Beautiful, cold, wide open Nebraska in winter.

Beautiful, cold, wide open Nebraska in winter.

So it all started last Friday, the police chase and two people escaping across pastures. Well they caught them, the official story here and here. That is what the cops are saying, read it and remember because from here out it is all gossip and hear say and much more interesting if I do say so myself.

The last we heard was to lock doors and beware, dangerous criminals were roaming the neighborhood, then, nothing. A whole weekend of wondering what was going on. Gossip started to trickle in. The private plane that found them was piloted by a friend of a friend. He was bored and decided to go looking. He found them easily and circled waiting for police to come. They may have been carrying things into an abandoned house. They saw him and took off again. Still no police, they were a hill or two over and couldn’t find their way.

He watched as the poor Subaru died and they ran on afoot. Running low on fuel he headed back long enough to refill then went back and found them again. Getting bored with the game he buzzed them sending them diving. Still no police arrived and he got tiered of it and went home.

That was the last we heard until the news broke Sunday that they, or someone, got arrested in Hay Springs at the gas station. They leave out any interesting details though. I was dieing of curiosity wanting to know where they had been and what they had been doing.

Monday morning we got the first part of the story. A certain ranch family had brought them in at gun point and handed them over to the cops. Two people had the same basic story so it had some credibility. Then talking to a friend I mentioned the excitement and she sat back in her chair arms crossed and began the story. The news had it all wrong, her father had been there. At last the whole story.

The couple had gotten gas in Alliance and left with out paying. They were trying to get to Edgemont to see the girls mother who was, supposedly, dieing of cancer but they didn’t have any money. Then they sped out of town bringing on the police. They had no clue where they were going and headed the wrong direction across a pasture. Edgemont is northwest, they went east. After the car died they huddled in a tree row, supposedly not too far from where the car stopped.

It hasn’t been miserably cold the last few days, it didn’t even freeze one night. Saturday was down right nice even, but they are from Greeley, not here. They were not dressed for what they were doing. She was wearing spandex and “moccasin flip flop things”. Neither had warm clothes or supplies, they did have a dog. They didn’t eat it or anything interesting, it’s just amusing that they were running from the police carrying a small dog. They had stranded themselves on the border between farm country and ranch land, in the farmed areas it is fairly populated, a house at least every mile or two. If they had strayed to much further into the sandhills houses and people become much fewer and farther between. They could have become permanently lost.

Apparently western Nebraska was more than they could take, they ran into the road flagging down the vehicle of said ranch family. The man and his wife stopped and picked them up. That is pretty amazing to me, knowing that these were the people running from the police, it would have been hard not to recognize them or at least realize that they weren’t any of your neighbors,  they stopped and picked them up. With their children in the car.

These are RANCHERS, the epitome of the name, the ones who’s yard I would not want to hide in as a fugitive. The wife should not be considered a bystander, she is one tough woman. So, never fear, they had a plan, they called a neighbor, my friends father, and asked him to bring them a gun. I am kind of surprised that they didn’t have one with them. He brought them a gun and took the children with him. Two of these children are large teenage boys, I should mention that, I would be scared of them not the other way around.

They called the police. Our county told them that they wanted nothing to do with this, it was the problem of the other county that had started the chase. The man,or probably the wife, told them to get the other county called then because the people really wanted to be saved from the wilds of Nebraska. The couple were frozen solid, the man complaining that his joints were aching from being out in the elements for the last few days. They fell asleep nearly instantly, after recounting some of the horrors of their journey, and slept all the way to town where the police had agreed to meet them.

On arrival they refused to get out of the vehicle. It was the first warmth they had had for so long. The rancher talked them in to coming inside by promising a nice hot cup of coffee. Supposedly, upon getting out of the vehicle, the police pushed Rancher out of the way, ordered the man to his knees and when his sore aching joints didn’t allow him to move fast enough they tased him. Both were taken to the hospital to be treated for the results of their adventure.

I don’t know if all of that is true, as always with gossip I guess. In defense of our local cops most of them are really good guys. Except, of course, for the one that was at the car wreck before Christmas. When asked if the two poor, cold, dazed, boys from the wreck could sit in his car to stay warm, because we really did have a train to catch, he was horrified and only reluctantly agreed. To busy standing there with his lights flashing trying to look important I guess. So we will say he was the taser if there was one.

It started out scarey, looked like it was going to be a really funny story and wound up just being pitiful. A comedy of errors.

The End of a Vacation

I have to get this finished or I will have forgotten the important little details. I’m afraid I have already forgotten so many. Besides I keep getting off onto other tangents I want to write about.

I believe we had reached the weekend. Mom was off work again. We did some thrift store shopping found lots of beautiful clothes and would have bought much more if we hadn’t had to worry about getting it all onto the train. We hit a china buffet for lunch. It was delicious, you could pick your own ingredients and have them cook it or choose from the normal old buffet. It is definitely diet time now that we are home, so why do I get so made when ever a usually sweet husband mentions the D word?

After lunch the husband escaped back to the house with my father to do manly things and we women went riding. This time the sun was out and the weather nice, the goblin child got to ride with mom on Smoke. We bundled her up toasty warm, except, as my grandmother was quick to note, for gloves. She always takes them off, I always forget.

Anyway, we had a nice jaunt around the hay field. It feels kind of weird, but nice, to be back riding around the same hay field I rode so many times clear back to middle school. It’s really amazing that one horse at least is still there from way back then. I thought she was old at that time, now she looks ancient.

Sunday came to soon and it was time to catch our train. We spent the morning packing and triple checking to make sure we didn’t forget anything. It didn’t work I hadn’t been on the train long when I realized I had forgotten one of my favorite Christmas presents. Mom got me a Chao chocolate bar with pop rocks and chilli and I left it there. On the bright side I don’t think anyone will eat it while I’m gone.

We left for the train station in two vehicles again. Mom watches Sabbath every Sunday so he got to come along, but we needed to fit two car seats. The men rode in dads pickup, while us women followed behind with the children. It had been raining a freezing drizzle all morning and Sabbaths loving mother was a bit concerned about him being out and about in it. Wise woman. The roads weren’t bad though, luckily.

It was eerily similar to our last train catching adventure all we needed was a bad wreck to make them completely alike. We got it right off the bat, or nearly did, thankfully. As dad pulled out on to the main road, with a green light that had been green for quite a while, a little red ford pickup came flying down the hill, ran the long time red light and missed dads pickup somehow and only by a hair, as dad slammed on the brakes. We watched with our hearts in out throats, seeing the pickup coming before dad did and knowing they were going to hit. I still swear dad was in the same lane as the idiot and God warped the laws of physics for that moment so they some how missed each other. Once again a great way to start a trip.

We caught the train in the cold wet weather and were very glad not to be driving as it sped on through the snow. Supper that night was a grand affair as we again enjoyed meals included with our ticket, Twenty five dollar a plate steak isn’t usually in our food budget. We added desert and contemplated a glass of wine, it is unfortunate, at times like these, not to drink. Back in our room for the night I once again shared a bunk with the child as we attempted to sleep. She slept at least and I stayed awake to watch as we pulled into Nebraska.

I was thinking about the trip my brother and I made down this same path and wishing it was light so I could see my childhood home. I love the unusual point of view allowed from a train. Instead of the shiny front sides you see the hidden dilapidated back sides. Peoples back yards, the bad parts of town. I decided to become a bum and dwell in the forested space along the track. Those open empty places in the middle of city where nothing seems to be. I realized that the train is the lowest level and exactly how high the interstate overpasses are that we are so used to zipping across.

The train station in Omaha was nothing like I remembered. I thought we got off inside? In a grand old nearly empty train station left over from the railroads heydays many years before? Instead the people came out of a little seventies style building and got on out in the open just like every other stop. We slept a little, I know I napped all the way from Omaha to Lincoln, and finally arrived at our stop. The very nice conductor helped us get all of our luggage off, that just left getting it clear to the car. The car was still there by the way, none of my nightmares about it being towed had come true.

And best of all it started, at fifteen or twenty degrees, at four in the morning, after being parked for a week the good old Buick fired right up. All that was left was to drive home with out falling asleep. Which we managed, the trip went amazingly fast without blinding snow. It was a fun trip and a great adventure I hope we can do it again some day, maybe that tour of new england we talked about.

The timing was perfect, shortly after returning home they started to get snow, and more snow and cold. It was strangely enjoyable to see our train in the news after it hit a twelve foot snow bank in the middle of IL and was stuck there. I’m just glad it wasn’t while we were on it.

We Interrupt this Scintillating Accounting of our Vacation for a Little Local Excitement

So maybe life around here isn’t very exciting but we like it that way. It’s the little adventures that make life invigorating, getting taken by a mean ol’ cow, sticking the pick up or braving a blizzard, we really could do with out the big things.

Yesterday our “trusty” news source Panhandlepost reported a police chase and parties fleeing on foot. Nobody seems to really know whats going on. Local residents were warned to beware. Personally I would hate to encounter a local resident if I was running through his property, most are armed and ready to shoot an offending coyote or stranger looking suspicious. Very little more information was offered except an update to say they were calling off the search for the night.

This morning they released a name and picture apparently the fugitives are getting closer to us but are still thought to be afoot (here). That is interesting considering almost every farm vehicle is parked with keys in the ignition. I have nothing interesting to add to the story not a drop of personal involvement and so nothing more to offer except one question.

What does one do on foot, on the edge of the sandhills in the winter?

There is a long way to go before reaching a town. That town is so small the people at the gas stations know everybody and has their picture, it would be hard not to be recognized. If they could get any phone reception I guess they could call for a ride. Then what? Walk back to a highway? Make that the highway, unless they get a lot further north there is only one. They could try to give directions to what ever dirt road they are on, road signs can be few and far between.

They could steal one of the many farm vehicles parked, with the keys in them, in a farm yard. A farm yard most likely containing a large, and probably unfriendly to strangers, dog. Even if it’s friendly it’s guarantied to bark thus bringing out the resident, armed and grouchy about being woke up.

While we are so much warmer than a large portion of the country it isn’t warm. Did they hole up somewhere and sleep last night? Would they risk a fire or keep walking to stay warm? Oh well, I guess I can only hope not to get a chance to ask. They were much closer when last seen so maybe we should start to worry a little.

My Brother the Tour Guide

After Christmas mom had to go back to work. We were left to fend for our selves with nothing to entertain us. So Justin stepped up to the plate. Actually he loves to plan outings. He is the one that plans any vacation, and he finds the coolest things to do. He found the jeeps to rent in Colorado. We had a blast four-wheeling through the mountains. It was just like the song.

But that is beside the point except that once again he went above and beyond the call of duty to find fun things to do. On Thursday we headed into the city, or at least close enough to it for us. We went to Brookfield Zoo. It was cold out and hot in the buildings, hardly any people were out and it was free, it was awesome. The Goblin Child was excited to see some of the animals we had been talking about, the bears that hold their paws up and say grrrr! Zebras and giraffes, mostly a big white bird, she saw it and said bawk! As I tried to explain that chickens say bawk, birds say chirp or tweet, we haven’t decided for sure yet, the big white bird said “Bawk!” We sat and looked and “Bawk”ed at it for a long time. Justin and Stephani had came very well prepared bringing strollers and blankets for all.

As it grew dark the lights came on. It was dazzling in the evening chill. The beautiful old brick buildings and tree lined walks all decked out for Christmas. The crowds grew and carolers came out to entertain. We made one last stop at the children’s zoo, an indoor interactive play ground for the children. They ran about for a bit and we got to see and pet a chicken, very exciting I guess, apparently she never gets to do that at home. Then with us adults being utterly exhausted we made a quick stroll through more lights and headed home to meet mom for supper at, my favorite, Portillo’s . I used to eat there almost every day before I moved away.

The next day mom got up and went to work even earlier than usual, I think she left by four, so she could get done in time to join us for lunch and the afternoons entertainment. We picked her up, leaving her car behind in a parking lot, we already had to take two vehicles to fit all the car seats, three seemed a bit extreme.  Heading north we made Hu Hots in time for lunch. It was my brothers special birthday lunch, Happy Birthday Justin!

After stuffing our faces until it was uncertain whether we would ever be able to move again, we went to the museums. I don’t even know the name of them which is very sad. They sat right on Lake Michigan, two years ago when we tried to go see them they were closed and we spent lots of very cold but fun time walking on the beach. This year they were open and with the children we decided to forgo the water. The first had a big model train set up just inside the door and half our group never made it past there. The rest of us enjoyed looking at fossils and art and I can’t even remember what else, but it was fun.

The second museum looked very un-child friendly when we walked in. It was a civil war museum and you had to pay to do part of it, we of course opted for the free parts. On the ground floor was a very haunting memorial to all the American wars. A dark room with stars twinkling overhead and soldiers from all eras around a campfire. Upstairs was the typical museum and a great library with legos for the kids to play with even costumes to try on. I’m afraid that Stephani and I enjoyed that far more than the children. The end of the building was all glass to admire the view of the water from. We watched from there for the trolly to come so we could catch it for a ride.

When it came around the corner we raced to meet it in time and enjoyed a ride around the town on a real old fashioned trolly. It was bright yellow  and fun, if The Goblin Child hadn’t been so completely exhausted it would have been tempting to go a couple of rounds. After that we headed home, all of us being wore out. Mom, dad, Goblin Child and I went to get moms car and the others took a more scenic and hopefully less traffic rout through Wisconsin and down through Richmond Il. They did get home first if not by much and ordered us all pizza from Lou Malnati’s. It was delicious. If I keep mentioning food it’s only because that’s the whole point of most vacations, perfectly normal right? Thinking about it now is making me very hungry.

Merry Christmas

I figure it’s better to say it late than never. That is also my stance on Christmas cards, The last batch will be in the mail soon, I promise. We kind of ran out of envelopes and time.

Mostly though I am referring to Christmas itself.

We were awoken by the sound of stampeding hooves above our heads. Or possibly a very excited twoish year old excited about opening his presents. We rolled out of our nice comfy air mattress, after a full nights sleep, and prepared to go above stairs.

Mom had breakfast cooking on the stove, Justin was working to keep Sabbath from opening his presents. We leaped into the foray. Paper flew every which way as we tore into gifts. Sabbath had carefully chosen a bottle of Mountain Dew for his father, beautiful perfume for his mother, and m&m’s for Elly. We opened presents for hours it seemed. The Goblin Child was surprisingly reluctant to rip wrapping paper to shreds. I thought that would have been right up her ally.

Mom and Dad’s house is the perfect Christmas house. It is a beautiful house anytime, only slightly newer than my brothers, nineteen seventeen or maybe nineteen o seven, somewhere around there. They have worked hard at bringing out its character and inner beauty, now, all decorated for Christmas it really shines.

Once done with presents we went back to breakfast. This being one of the few time when mom cooks, she was not only cooking but making us her world famous pancakes. If they aren’t quite world famous they should be. She spreads them thin and with the help of lots of butter and syrup she grills them extra crisp, then folding them in half, fills the center with chocolate chips. Words can not begin to describe the heavenly taste. Of course if we had them more than once a year we would be dead form all the yummy ingredients.

So full we could barely move from a delicious breakfast and exhausted from the excitement I really can’t remember the rest of the morning but I know that at some point we headed for the barn. I hadn’t gotten to see the new horse yet and couldn’t wait. My poor, long suffering husband came along to watch the child and they waited in the heated tack room while we rode. Except for a brief ride with grandma, for the child, not the husband. We did not make use of the beautiful new riding helmet she got for Christmas but fortunately no one fell off so it was hardly needed for this ride at least. We will make good use of it as she gets older and we can ride more.

It started snowing on the drive out and we bravely ventured forth into the rapidly increasing snow for our ride. Indie proved to be just as nice as I had heard. He went along happily if not as speedily as is his usual. We can blame that on the deep snow already on the ground making it hard for them to walk. We enjoyed dashing through the snow and made two laps around the hay field before heading in. The snow was starting to accumulate by then but we didn’t let that deter us from taking a wending rout home so we could see the deer.

Mom boards the horses on the outskirts of Bull Valley an absolutely gorgeous, something, I’m not sure what to call it, not a town just an area containing acreages and horse properties with big beautiful barns and pastures flecked with jumps. The houses are old, big and grand. We drove through the tree lined streets in the softly falling snow. Christmas lights were on shining in the wintery gloaming. The best of all was a pasture inhabited by lit reindeer. The lay on hill sides and leaped though trees, they were even jumping over the road. We slowed and gawked in awe.

If I mention mom’s pancakes I can’t leave out dad’s stew, we dinned on it that night and many others. It was spectacular and filling on the cold winter days. He has become quite the cook.