Thanksgiving, 2011

Feeding them morning and night for three days, I got to know Zoe (foreground), Prince (white Arabian and herd leader),  Della (well-mannered bay), Joe (Black newcomer who’s already moving up in the pecking order), and Edwina (who paws the fence whenever she’s impatient).  It takes awhile to separate Winnie (she’s still Edwina to me) in a pen where she gets oats, then take the same 2/3 can of oats plus 1/5 bale of hay inside Zoe’s pen. She’s running around like a crazy mare, spooks at the carrot stick I carry to appear bigger and keep her from charging over me. She kicked at me one day anyway! My brother told me before he left, “If she gets sick, don’t call the vet. Shoot her!” Fat chance of that!

I divide the 4/5 of the remaining bale, load it in a wheelbarrow, push it through snow (that turned to brown slush over the next few hours), and hoist it over the high fence at four strategic spots that are not within kicking distance “in case they get to bickering”. Winnie paws to get out to the hay, then changes her mind about going beyond the grass in her pen, Joe tries to come in, and I finally win the battle of wits. Pat Parelli’s carrot stick helps; I only apply a little pressure or show it to them and they move where I want. Zoe drinks her water down daily, but temperatures stop freezing, so I carry her a bucket each feeding. Then it’s time to lock the gates and cover the hay in case bad weather or deer move in to spoil the bails. I needed a bath after each feeding foray, sometimes finding hay beneath three layers of clothing! It’s good exercise, and as long as I got it done in daylight, interesting and enjoyable. Thanksgiving, after a late dinner and two Scrabble games, friend Elsie and I wrestled bales and sank into muck with my headlamp’s help. I returned to her kitchen today for a reward: dipping mint/walnut/vanilla nougat in chocolate. We ate our share of samples. Happy holiday time, whether you eat hay, oats, or candy!

It Happened in Florida…

Halloween in Sarasota? I went with my costume (worn to deliver Meals on Wheels, attend a Fallcrest Circle block party, and hand out Trick or Treats), a swim suit, and long pants. After all, it was frosty in Spokane when I left. Longtime friends from kid-raising days in Kansas City live in a gated community, eat healthily, exercise regularly, and are ingrained in the Sarasota community. Other than a few grey hairs, I didn’t see much change in either of them.  Marcia volunteers, collects plants, black cats, and tea cups; Buzz serves on boards, reads Wall Street Journal, and goes to the real estate office daily. They’re both avid readers. I finished Jimmie Carter’s An Hour Before Daylight  in spare moments. The only must on our calendar was a “Wit and Wisdom of Aging” luncheon to benefit Pines of Sarasota, a facility where 75% of the residents are on Medicaid. The co-chairs had gone all-out with a panel of a retired Circuit Court Judge (METV “Through the Tunnel” was a recent project), clown Ginny Daly (direct marketing to worldwide movers and shakers plus Rails-to-Trails Conservancy), and NHL winningest coach Scotty Bowman (“10% is what happens to you; 90% is your attitude toward it”).  All recounted stories about aging and praised The Pines. Contributions poured in as we enjoyed exceptional food. I wondered if Mom would enjoy living there.

Our first morning’s challenge was to open the garage door without electricity in a rainstorm. We borrowed Buzz’s car and made the rounds an hour late. That left two hours to walk Siesta Key beach. White sand there feels like walking in powdered sugar. The afternoon sky turned cobalt with silver lining the bottoms of white clouds. Seagulls liked it too.

Sarasota Magazine   mentioned a penguin exhibit at MOTE Marine Laboratory, so we were off! We communed with sharks, skates, octopi, manatees, sea turtles, and grotesque fish large and small. The senior guides at various stations shared an impressive amount of knowledge. Lunch at The Salty Dog was fish, of course. However, Sarasota’s big news was its fourth annual Chalk Festival.  We watched pastel artists covering pavement with 3-D street art and heard exerpts from “Madame Butterfly” performed on one chalk backdrop. So the normal next step was to call for Sarasota Opera tickets; it didn’t disappoint. Cio-Cio-San’s tragic life touched our hearts, Pinkerton made us hate his weakness, and Sharpless had our sympathy as they sang their hearts out in Italian. Subtitles helped.  Three days without defined plans filled our time with Sarasota’s best experiences. We went to Turtles for crab-filled shrimp and filet oceanside to avoid cooking one evening, another memorable taste of Florida. Too busy to put even a toe in their pool, and all without a schedule! I returned to snow in Denver and icy wind in Spokane. Across Thompson Pass, I drove in slush. Mountain rams were eyeing their conquests in my driveway as I turned home, glad I went and glad to return. What wonderful places this country has for enjoying life!