There was a widowed woman who lived in an older apartment building. Things were tight financially and although she had enough money for her rent and utilities, she found herself running very low on food. After doing all that she thought she could do to fix the situation, she decided that she needed to get down on her knees and ask God for a miracle.
"Dear God," she cried out. "I need your help. You said I could ask for anything in Jesus' name and it would be done for me. Jesus died on the cross for me and I am calling out to you. Please provide food for me in my time of need."
Downstairs a young man was coming home from a shopping trip and as he entered the living room, he could hear a sound coming from the vent. He pressed his head towards the vent and stood perfectly still. He could hear the widows cries. He looked back at the bags of food he had just purchased and immediately felt the desire to give it all to the lady.
"How should I do this though.." he thought. "I do not want her to know it is me..after all, we have never even met."
He decided to climb the stairs to the roof. It was there he found the fireplace vent shaft that led right down into the widows apartment and it was from there that he dropped the bags of food.
Plop! Plop! Plop! .. they landed on the fireplace grate with a loud thud. It startled the widow and she stopped praying to look over to see all the food, now rolling out of the bags and onto the floor. There was so much food, much more than she had prayed for.. enough for over a week!
"Oh thank you Lord Jesus!!!" She danced and sang and praised His name - so much and so loud that many of her neighbors could hear, even the young man who gave it to her.
As he heard her, he started to wonder if he should go and tell her it was he that gave the gift. After a moment, he decided that is what he should do.
He knocked on the widow's door. When she answered, he introduced himself and told her where he lived. He slowly told her the whole story and followed it with an apology for not just knocking on the door and giving her the food himself.
"So you see, it was me who dropped the food down the fireplace; not God" he told her.
She just smiled at him, tilted her head and answered, "You may have been the one God used to get the food to me, but make no mistake, it was GOD who softened your heart and led you to do His work!
They said their good-byes and she continued to Praise His Name!
I have a huge "thing" to tell you guys about ... but I am not quite ready... but I promise by next week, I will spill my guts!
Showing posts with label Story Time. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Story Time. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
A Mouse Story...
Living above a barn has it's appeal...and a few disadvantages as well. One of the downsides seems to be the constant fight to keep mice out of our home. Obviously the barn cats do a good job with population control, but they only patrol the outside area. Once a mouse finds his way into either the laundry room or the tack room, they eventually find a passage way upstairs....and the fight begins.
We do not use any kind of poison. With other small animals around, we were worried that if a dog or cat got ahold of a sick mouse, ate it, then we would then have a sick cat or dog on our hands! Other traps include old fashioned spring traps, new fashioned spring traps that cage the mouse, and sticky pads. We started with the spring traps. These are very dangerous to set as a good one will snap your fingers as you try to bait it no less than 3 times, sending your brain into warp panic and your eyes flooded with tears! Once set, you still have the task of placing it in the desired spot without tripping it too. These seems to work ....at first. Our first kill was disgusting - but quick and easy.... I threw the entire thing away..trying not to look at it.
The second trapping was a bit more adventurous. Promptly at 3:26AM I heard a loud SNAP. I immediately opened my eyes as my head flew up from the pillow. The following bangs and screams (from the mouse - not me) sent me flying down the hall and into the pantry. I found a screaming mouse jumping from one shelf to another and running in circles, dragging the trap behind him since his tail was the only part captured. I used what was readily handy....plastic Walmart bags (Many of them!) using them as a barrier and swooped the mouse up. I took a small screw driver with me and outside I went. Thankfully I was wearing a night gown, but it was very cold. No matter - all the way down the driveway I went, into the darkness of night to let my captor go. I dropped him out of the bunch of scrunched up bags and off he ran....with trap still in tow I went flying after him and stepped on the trap...more screaming (..this time by both of us) and with one flick of the screw driver - the mouse was free. Okay - 2 down..but I was pretty sure there was at least 1 more.
Rebaiting the old trap and going back to the store to buy a few more, I could only find a newer version of the spring trap. This newer one had a larger bright yellow platform to place the bait on. No matter - I bought it anyway. It was easier to set and bait without getting injured and that made me happy. What I had not realized - was that mouse #3 had been patiently waiting on the sidelines and taking notes! He was going to be more of a challenge...
Morning number 1, two traps still there, untripped..with the bait missing! "Wow - how did he do that?" I wondered. I reset them, this time really pressing the cheese onto the trap platform.
Morning number 2, two traps still there, untripped..with the bait MISSING! "I can't believe this! Maybe there is something wrong with the traps!"I went to the store and found a new kind of spring trap that actually locks the mouse inside! I baited them and placed them into the pantry.
Morning number 3, Two enclosed traps, untripped and untouched..
Morning number 4, two enclosed traps, untripped and untouched... Obviously - the mouse did not approve! Back to the store to buy 1 more package of the old fashioned traps. I reset them, THIS TIME I super glued the bait onto the trap!"That will get the little shit!" Grinch smile creeping over my face!
Morning number 5, two traps still there, UNTRIPPED AND EMPTY! "Can you believe this? "How could he have gotten the bait off of the platform when it was glued onto it??? That is it! We are going to use the big guns now!" I told Don to buy the sticky traps we had seen - but not wanted to resort to. He brought them home and Emily set them for me.
Morning number 6, 2 sticky traps ...one with a sticky mouse stuck to it...screaming! I did not discover it until I was about to leave for work, so Don was going to try to get him unstuck and let him go in the woods. 2 hours later I get a call from home. It was Don...with a screaming mouse in the background, poor Don was so stressed and unable to free the mouse. He himself was now stuck to the trap and trying to come up with more ideas. I could not come up with anything other than offering to sacrifice one of my spatulas....Don was not happy!
Monday, September 29, 2008
Could All of This Have Happened in Just 1 Day?
So today was my first day back to work after being off for a total of 2 whole weeks. Sounds kind of nice huh??...well if you are not a follower of my blog, you might want to scroll down a few entries to see exactly why I have been off for that amount of time.....the short version:
1. My daughter gave birth to our 2nd Grandchild.
2. We had a hurricane barrel over our part of Texas.
3. My saddle fell apart leaving my old body in a heap under the horse...which leads me wondering what happened to about 4 of those days...but a little drug called Dellotid (spelling??) erased those days forever I am sure.....but back to today.
Feeling better, I do what was normal for me and park in the very back of the gargangious (I swear it is 3 football fields...sort of) parking lot and walk into the building. All the security people know that I park there just to get the extra exercise, so they never even bother to stop to ask if I need a ride anymore. A quarter of the way in, my left hip started to hurt. That was right about the time the cart zoomed by me to pick up someone else. By the time I reached the building, I was walking like the hunch back of Notre Dame and I would have sworn that a railroad spike was sticking out of the left side of my butt! If that was not bad enough - I was 3 minutes late signing in!
Okay - so I am trying to catch up on about 80+ work e-mails, get caught up on the latest office news and be as apologetic to the one and only other person in my department who had to work alone for these last 2 weeks. Oh yes - I had to tell and retell the humiliating story of how I came off of my horse....the latest version sounded something like this:
The saddle broke, I fell off, and almost broke myself.
Aside from trying to catch up on the work from that job, I also have a deadline to write an article about tbe horse show I was not able to attend due to the hurricane. The show went on - but without me there....kind of makes it hard to write a story about it though...and even harder to sell ads (on my lunch hour) when the stock market takes a deep sea dive as it did today.
So there I sat uncomfortably at my desk when my phone buzzed. I was getting a text from Emily - the daughter who gave birth only a couple of weeks ago. Trestin was sick and she was taking him into the Emergency room. He seemed to be having trouble breathing. I anxiously awaited every bit of news. He indeed was ill and they put she and Trestin into an ambulance to another hospital better equipped to handle infants. By this time she and I were on the phone together. I was so proud of her, she was calm and understood why he was being moved. The cell phone never left my hands after that conversation.
On my way out of the building - not one security guard could be found so off I went again on my trek back to my car. I was really hurting by the time I reached it and vowed to give myself at least 1 week off from being an exercising lot lizard. I had only 1 errand to run before going home and that was to pick up a prescription previously called into the Walmart pharmacy. Should have been ready at 5pm..so why oh why was I surprised that when I arrived at 6:20...it was not. Apparently I was in good (well maybe not exactly good) but a lot of company being given the same story. 20 minutes.... 20 minutes later they would just say 20 more minutes.
Okay - so I have been subject to quite a bit of stress, pain and over the last several days I had been on some pretty intense medications...so when a 70+ year old man with his polyester pants almost pulled up to his nipples walked in with his 30 year old girlfriend whose shorts could not in any position cover the crack of her behindwalked beside me....well I had to physically bite my tongue. I have never laughed so hard and so quietly in all of my life. What made it worse was the 3 or so women who obviously shared my sense of humor. We all almost blew a gasket when Miss 30 reached up and we all got an unrequested look at her thong panties. I turned around to the woman behind me and under my breath I said, I give the pharmacist $5.00 if they speed their prescription along - just so I don't have to look at her a** again. The moment they left, a roar of laughter rose like I have not heard in a long time...and then they called my name. Like a winning lottery number, I claimed my prize (my meds) and went home.
Comic relief is good when stress is hovering...
Emily again called and said they were at the hospital and she was going to stay the night. Daren would stay with their 2 year old daughter at home..returning the next morning. She seemed calm but worried and told me she would call if anything happened.
I got back to the farm just as it was getting dark. I hate doing farm chores in the dark. It is more difficult and certainly more dangerous. First started the sprinklers, then started to feed, water and hay the horses, feed the lambs, bring in the dogs and feed them too. I needed to clean one stall, but I was hurting by now and was hungry too, so I opted to go upstairs. I removed my jacket before doing my chores, leaving me wearing some black pants and a tank top - thankfully not tucked into my pants....
You see - we always seem to have an issue with mice. I mean if you live above a barn, there is no getting around having mice. The barn cats keep them to a minimum, but once in a while one will get past them and find their way into the house....well let me introduce you to the Kama-Kazi Mouse. This tiny beast has NO fear. He has claimed our pantry as his domain and if you happen to open the pantry door while he is eating, he will throw himself at you, as he did to my husband a couple of nights ago. He lept right off the shelf and onto his shirt....
Well tonight I had a standoff with the beast. I opened the pantry door, the tiny brown villain spread his little mouse arms and legs and pretended to be a flying squirrel..and flew right down the front of my tank top. Bad hip and all, I was dancing and jumping around as I felt him go down my shirt....and Thank you God...he fell out of my shirt and right into the dog food bag! I quickly grabbed the $8.00 bag of dog food and ran out onto the porch where 3 cats immediately ran away from me. I opened the bag and shook it....nothing. I shook it again...nothing. I could just dump out the whole bag...but Gezzzzzz - the stock market dropped over 700 points...so one last time I shook the bag and out ran the mouse. He raced down the railing and flung himself into the bushes below...ha ha - not taking even 1 piece of the dog food with him!
...as I sit here and type all of this ...I just know the little demon is making his way back up the wall and back into his pantry though......sigh..
No news from Emily means good news and it is now past midnight. I hope tomorrow is full of good reports and maybe a bit less pain!
***Edited to add - when I was leaving for work this morning, the 30th of September..I glanced down at the kitchen table to see a Jury Summons.....THAT I WAS SUPPOSE TO REPORT FOR YESTERDAY!.... You know - I could not have made this up no matter how I tried!
1. My daughter gave birth to our 2nd Grandchild.
2. We had a hurricane barrel over our part of Texas.
3. My saddle fell apart leaving my old body in a heap under the horse...which leads me wondering what happened to about 4 of those days...but a little drug called Dellotid (spelling??) erased those days forever I am sure.....but back to today.
Feeling better, I do what was normal for me and park in the very back of the gargangious (I swear it is 3 football fields...sort of) parking lot and walk into the building. All the security people know that I park there just to get the extra exercise, so they never even bother to stop to ask if I need a ride anymore. A quarter of the way in, my left hip started to hurt. That was right about the time the cart zoomed by me to pick up someone else. By the time I reached the building, I was walking like the hunch back of Notre Dame and I would have sworn that a railroad spike was sticking out of the left side of my butt! If that was not bad enough - I was 3 minutes late signing in!
Okay - so I am trying to catch up on about 80+ work e-mails, get caught up on the latest office news and be as apologetic to the one and only other person in my department who had to work alone for these last 2 weeks. Oh yes - I had to tell and retell the humiliating story of how I came off of my horse....the latest version sounded something like this:
The saddle broke, I fell off, and almost broke myself.
Aside from trying to catch up on the work from that job, I also have a deadline to write an article about tbe horse show I was not able to attend due to the hurricane. The show went on - but without me there....kind of makes it hard to write a story about it though...and even harder to sell ads (on my lunch hour) when the stock market takes a deep sea dive as it did today.
So there I sat uncomfortably at my desk when my phone buzzed. I was getting a text from Emily - the daughter who gave birth only a couple of weeks ago. Trestin was sick and she was taking him into the Emergency room. He seemed to be having trouble breathing. I anxiously awaited every bit of news. He indeed was ill and they put she and Trestin into an ambulance to another hospital better equipped to handle infants. By this time she and I were on the phone together. I was so proud of her, she was calm and understood why he was being moved. The cell phone never left my hands after that conversation.
On my way out of the building - not one security guard could be found so off I went again on my trek back to my car. I was really hurting by the time I reached it and vowed to give myself at least 1 week off from being an exercising lot lizard. I had only 1 errand to run before going home and that was to pick up a prescription previously called into the Walmart pharmacy. Should have been ready at 5pm..so why oh why was I surprised that when I arrived at 6:20...it was not. Apparently I was in good (well maybe not exactly good) but a lot of company being given the same story. 20 minutes.... 20 minutes later they would just say 20 more minutes.
Okay - so I have been subject to quite a bit of stress, pain and over the last several days I had been on some pretty intense medications...so when a 70+ year old man with his polyester pants almost pulled up to his nipples walked in with his 30 year old girlfriend whose shorts could not in any position cover the crack of her behindwalked beside me....well I had to physically bite my tongue. I have never laughed so hard and so quietly in all of my life. What made it worse was the 3 or so women who obviously shared my sense of humor. We all almost blew a gasket when Miss 30 reached up and we all got an unrequested look at her thong panties. I turned around to the woman behind me and under my breath I said, I give the pharmacist $5.00 if they speed their prescription along - just so I don't have to look at her a** again. The moment they left, a roar of laughter rose like I have not heard in a long time...and then they called my name. Like a winning lottery number, I claimed my prize (my meds) and went home.
Comic relief is good when stress is hovering...
Emily again called and said they were at the hospital and she was going to stay the night. Daren would stay with their 2 year old daughter at home..returning the next morning. She seemed calm but worried and told me she would call if anything happened.
I got back to the farm just as it was getting dark. I hate doing farm chores in the dark. It is more difficult and certainly more dangerous. First started the sprinklers, then started to feed, water and hay the horses, feed the lambs, bring in the dogs and feed them too. I needed to clean one stall, but I was hurting by now and was hungry too, so I opted to go upstairs. I removed my jacket before doing my chores, leaving me wearing some black pants and a tank top - thankfully not tucked into my pants....
You see - we always seem to have an issue with mice. I mean if you live above a barn, there is no getting around having mice. The barn cats keep them to a minimum, but once in a while one will get past them and find their way into the house....well let me introduce you to the Kama-Kazi Mouse. This tiny beast has NO fear. He has claimed our pantry as his domain and if you happen to open the pantry door while he is eating, he will throw himself at you, as he did to my husband a couple of nights ago. He lept right off the shelf and onto his shirt....
Well tonight I had a standoff with the beast. I opened the pantry door, the tiny brown villain spread his little mouse arms and legs and pretended to be a flying squirrel..and flew right down the front of my tank top. Bad hip and all, I was dancing and jumping around as I felt him go down my shirt....and Thank you God...he fell out of my shirt and right into the dog food bag! I quickly grabbed the $8.00 bag of dog food and ran out onto the porch where 3 cats immediately ran away from me. I opened the bag and shook it....nothing. I shook it again...nothing. I could just dump out the whole bag...but Gezzzzzz - the stock market dropped over 700 points...so one last time I shook the bag and out ran the mouse. He raced down the railing and flung himself into the bushes below...ha ha - not taking even 1 piece of the dog food with him!
...as I sit here and type all of this ...I just know the little demon is making his way back up the wall and back into his pantry though......sigh..
No news from Emily means good news and it is now past midnight. I hope tomorrow is full of good reports and maybe a bit less pain!
***Edited to add - when I was leaving for work this morning, the 30th of September..I glanced down at the kitchen table to see a Jury Summons.....THAT I WAS SUPPOSE TO REPORT FOR YESTERDAY!.... You know - I could not have made this up no matter how I tried!
Monday, May 19, 2008
A Very Eventful Trip to Asheville, NC.
Just in case you have not read my blog for a while, I have 2 (paying) jobs. One of those is for an airline and as I am sure you know, airline employees have flight benefits and this is where my story begins...
I felt confident in listing on a flight that looked full. I was traveling alone and at the top of the standby list because of my seniority of 17 years. This was the only flight from Houston to Asheville and it was a small plane, but it seemed that there was always an open seat from someone who was late getting to the airport or from a customer who encountered a misconnect. Only working half of a day, I left work at noon and parked my car in a pay lot. Catching the bus to the airport was an adventure on it's own, as the driver, I am sure was sharpening his skills as a Nascar driver! Everyone was hanging onto their seats and grab straps for dear life and I am still amazed that the side view mirrors were not knocked off of the bus with so many close calls!
Racing others to get off of that bus, I carried my bag to the Sky Cap station. As I checked my bag, I reiterated that I was a standby passenger so that my bag would be tagged as such. I thought it strange that I did not see anything indicating my flight status on my bag, but gave it no further thought, proceeding to the security check in. Passing through the lines, barefoot and void of all jewelry, a green light allowed me through. I checked the departure gate and started my journey through Terminal B.
With a bit less than one hour before my flight, I settled into a chair close to the podium, so that I could hear my name called when my seat was cleared. I made some calls, checked the contents of my purse and started my wait... Fifteen minutes before the flight was to leave, I started to get nervous. The gate agent reached for the intercom and I sat straight up expecting to hear my name called. To my dismay instead he was asking if any revenue passengers were interested in giving up their seat in exchange for travel vouchers! I saw a couple walk over to volunteer. I waited..and waited.. and when the couple went back to their seat, I approached the gate agent.
"Is the flight overbooked by 2 or just 1, because I am a non-rev?" I asked in desperation.
I knew that I had a few other options of getting to my destination, but each was much more difficult than the last and if I was going to get to see my baby show at his first show, I had to make it that night!
"Stay here." the gate agent gestured.
"Yeah!" I thought. "There is hope!"
As I waited for him to finish some paperwork at his station, a man ran up to the podium almost breathless saying, "Am I too late?"
The gate agent glanced as me for a split second and then replied to the man, "No Sir, you are right on time."
My heart sunk. I now had to proceed onto plan B. I asked the gate agent to retrieve my bag and as he did that, I went to the service counter to have my ticket changed to a new routing, Houston to Atlanta. I was now going to have to take another carrier from Atlanta to Ashville. I returned to the gate agent who informed me that my bag was on it's way to Asheville without me!
With no time to fuss, I turned and started my sprint over to terminal E, where my company office could issue me a pass on the other carrier. I realized that although I am required to dress professionally when I fly, my choice of high heeled summer sandals was a disastrous choice! One train ride and a 500 yard dash later, I was int the office and paying for my pass. I then called the other carrier and listed myself on the flight.
With little to no time to spare, I stared my speed walking again, this time over to terminal C to catch the flight to Atlanta. With more than enough seats to clear everyone, including the lowly non-revenue standbys, I was boarded.
It was a bumpy flight which seemed to only get worse the closer we got to Georgia. The pilot came over the intercom assuring us everything was fine, but that a storm had centered itself over Atlanta and that we may have a bit of a delay. I was not too worried though. There were 2 flights from Atlanta to Asheville and at the time I listed, both had a few seats still available.
Arriving 30 minutes later than scheduled, I felt like I would have run over my own Grandmother to get off of that plane. Although the next flight was scheduled to leave out of the same terminal, the 2 gates could not have been further apart. I was literly running in my high heels, trying to catch the earlier connection. Gasping for breath, I arrived at the gate to find the door had just been closed. My shoulders dropped as fast as my chin. I asked the agent to relist me on the next flight and just to torture myself I also asked him if there were any open seats on the flight I had just missed. He grimaced his face as he said,
"There was one."
I walked over to the new gate...the gate where the last Atlanta to Asheville flight was to leave in 2 hours. I informed the agent standing there I was on standby for the flight and inquired about it's status.
"Honestly?" she said
"This flight is completely sold out and there are 6 people ahead of you also wanting to standby."
My heart sunk. I felt defeated. I walked slowly over to an open seat and put my purse and camera bag down. I dug my phone out to call Don.
"I have to come home. I did not make the first flight out of Atlanta and the second one is full. I am not going to get to see Dominus show." I told him.
"There has to be something you can do. Go and see if there is a seat you can buy." he replied with hope in his voice.
Putting him on hold, I walked over to the gate agent and asked about it. All the revenue seats were completely sold out and I felt lost.
"All the seats are sold out Don. I will just come home. There is one more flight from Atlanta to Houston tonight." I told him.
"Just wait Julie." he said. I waited and could hear some movement in the background but had no idea what he was doing. "I just did a map quest from Atlanta to Asheville and it is just over 200 miles. Go and rent a car and drive there!" he said.
Don hated it when I went out of town overnight and my job writing for Saddle and Bridle magazine, kept me in hotel rooms a couple of nights per month, so this gesture meant the world to me.
"Are you sure??" I questioned.
"Yes Julie, you know how much you want to see him show. I think you should do this...and besides, your luggage is already there waiting for you!" he replied.
I hung up the phone and took the airport train to the destined area where all of the rental car companies sold their services. I looked around at the enormous amounts of people and picked a line where a sign was posted that said, "Cars Available"
I rented my car, got directions to the rental bus terminal and loaded my tired body into my newest seat. I was disappointed that I could not return the car in Asheville, but instead would have to journey back to Atlanta the next day. We drove a few miles and I noticed how bad the weather was. I was not only raining, but quite windy as well. It also occurred to me that although I asked for the lowest rate car they had, I never actually checked what I was charged. I cringed as I saw the 90+ dollars on the bill!
I found my car, got in and started to drive to the checkout booth. It was there that I encountered one of the nicest people ever. She took her time and showed me how to work the GPS. Maybe it was more than obvious that I had no idea where I was actually going when I told her I did not have an address, only a city! "Never you mind." She said as she guided me to putting in the correct data and got me on my way.
My journey was to take about 3 hours, but due to the poor weather conditions, it took closer to 4. It was raining the entire time, windy to the point of limbs and leaves flying across the road and the fog left me wondering sometimes what was on the side of the road! It was not until my journey back the next day that I realized I had crossed 2 bodies of water and the scenery was breathtaking!
It was almost midnight as I drove into the small town of Hendersonville, a small historic town just South of my destination. I called the trainer to get directions to the hotel and inquired where the airport was, so I could get my suitcase. Thankfully the rain had stopped and I drove into the airport lot directly across from the baggage pick up. I walked in and was greeted by an airport employee. I explained my circumstances and asked her if I could get my bag.
"I am sorry, but the airline personnel just left and your bag is locked away." she said with compassion. "You can come back tomorrow morning. They will be here at 5am."
I thanked her and drove to the hotel. I checked in, got my key and found my room. I could not wait to call Don and tell him this newest development - if for nothing else, to give us both a laugh. I ran a bath, washed my underclothes and missed my toothbrush very much! I crawled into bed and tried to sleep...
I felt confident in listing on a flight that looked full. I was traveling alone and at the top of the standby list because of my seniority of 17 years. This was the only flight from Houston to Asheville and it was a small plane, but it seemed that there was always an open seat from someone who was late getting to the airport or from a customer who encountered a misconnect. Only working half of a day, I left work at noon and parked my car in a pay lot. Catching the bus to the airport was an adventure on it's own, as the driver, I am sure was sharpening his skills as a Nascar driver! Everyone was hanging onto their seats and grab straps for dear life and I am still amazed that the side view mirrors were not knocked off of the bus with so many close calls!
Racing others to get off of that bus, I carried my bag to the Sky Cap station. As I checked my bag, I reiterated that I was a standby passenger so that my bag would be tagged as such. I thought it strange that I did not see anything indicating my flight status on my bag, but gave it no further thought, proceeding to the security check in. Passing through the lines, barefoot and void of all jewelry, a green light allowed me through. I checked the departure gate and started my journey through Terminal B.
With a bit less than one hour before my flight, I settled into a chair close to the podium, so that I could hear my name called when my seat was cleared. I made some calls, checked the contents of my purse and started my wait... Fifteen minutes before the flight was to leave, I started to get nervous. The gate agent reached for the intercom and I sat straight up expecting to hear my name called. To my dismay instead he was asking if any revenue passengers were interested in giving up their seat in exchange for travel vouchers! I saw a couple walk over to volunteer. I waited..and waited.. and when the couple went back to their seat, I approached the gate agent.
"Is the flight overbooked by 2 or just 1, because I am a non-rev?" I asked in desperation.
I knew that I had a few other options of getting to my destination, but each was much more difficult than the last and if I was going to get to see my baby show at his first show, I had to make it that night!
"Stay here." the gate agent gestured.
"Yeah!" I thought. "There is hope!"
As I waited for him to finish some paperwork at his station, a man ran up to the podium almost breathless saying, "Am I too late?"
The gate agent glanced as me for a split second and then replied to the man, "No Sir, you are right on time."
My heart sunk. I now had to proceed onto plan B. I asked the gate agent to retrieve my bag and as he did that, I went to the service counter to have my ticket changed to a new routing, Houston to Atlanta. I was now going to have to take another carrier from Atlanta to Ashville. I returned to the gate agent who informed me that my bag was on it's way to Asheville without me!
With no time to fuss, I turned and started my sprint over to terminal E, where my company office could issue me a pass on the other carrier. I realized that although I am required to dress professionally when I fly, my choice of high heeled summer sandals was a disastrous choice! One train ride and a 500 yard dash later, I was int the office and paying for my pass. I then called the other carrier and listed myself on the flight.
With little to no time to spare, I stared my speed walking again, this time over to terminal C to catch the flight to Atlanta. With more than enough seats to clear everyone, including the lowly non-revenue standbys, I was boarded.
It was a bumpy flight which seemed to only get worse the closer we got to Georgia. The pilot came over the intercom assuring us everything was fine, but that a storm had centered itself over Atlanta and that we may have a bit of a delay. I was not too worried though. There were 2 flights from Atlanta to Asheville and at the time I listed, both had a few seats still available.
Arriving 30 minutes later than scheduled, I felt like I would have run over my own Grandmother to get off of that plane. Although the next flight was scheduled to leave out of the same terminal, the 2 gates could not have been further apart. I was literly running in my high heels, trying to catch the earlier connection. Gasping for breath, I arrived at the gate to find the door had just been closed. My shoulders dropped as fast as my chin. I asked the agent to relist me on the next flight and just to torture myself I also asked him if there were any open seats on the flight I had just missed. He grimaced his face as he said,
"There was one."
I walked over to the new gate...the gate where the last Atlanta to Asheville flight was to leave in 2 hours. I informed the agent standing there I was on standby for the flight and inquired about it's status.
"Honestly?" she said
"This flight is completely sold out and there are 6 people ahead of you also wanting to standby."
My heart sunk. I felt defeated. I walked slowly over to an open seat and put my purse and camera bag down. I dug my phone out to call Don.
"I have to come home. I did not make the first flight out of Atlanta and the second one is full. I am not going to get to see Dominus show." I told him.
"There has to be something you can do. Go and see if there is a seat you can buy." he replied with hope in his voice.
Putting him on hold, I walked over to the gate agent and asked about it. All the revenue seats were completely sold out and I felt lost.
"All the seats are sold out Don. I will just come home. There is one more flight from Atlanta to Houston tonight." I told him.
"Just wait Julie." he said. I waited and could hear some movement in the background but had no idea what he was doing. "I just did a map quest from Atlanta to Asheville and it is just over 200 miles. Go and rent a car and drive there!" he said.
Don hated it when I went out of town overnight and my job writing for Saddle and Bridle magazine, kept me in hotel rooms a couple of nights per month, so this gesture meant the world to me.
"Are you sure??" I questioned.
"Yes Julie, you know how much you want to see him show. I think you should do this...and besides, your luggage is already there waiting for you!" he replied.
I hung up the phone and took the airport train to the destined area where all of the rental car companies sold their services. I looked around at the enormous amounts of people and picked a line where a sign was posted that said, "Cars Available"
I rented my car, got directions to the rental bus terminal and loaded my tired body into my newest seat. I was disappointed that I could not return the car in Asheville, but instead would have to journey back to Atlanta the next day. We drove a few miles and I noticed how bad the weather was. I was not only raining, but quite windy as well. It also occurred to me that although I asked for the lowest rate car they had, I never actually checked what I was charged. I cringed as I saw the 90+ dollars on the bill!
I found my car, got in and started to drive to the checkout booth. It was there that I encountered one of the nicest people ever. She took her time and showed me how to work the GPS. Maybe it was more than obvious that I had no idea where I was actually going when I told her I did not have an address, only a city! "Never you mind." She said as she guided me to putting in the correct data and got me on my way.
My journey was to take about 3 hours, but due to the poor weather conditions, it took closer to 4. It was raining the entire time, windy to the point of limbs and leaves flying across the road and the fog left me wondering sometimes what was on the side of the road! It was not until my journey back the next day that I realized I had crossed 2 bodies of water and the scenery was breathtaking!
It was almost midnight as I drove into the small town of Hendersonville, a small historic town just South of my destination. I called the trainer to get directions to the hotel and inquired where the airport was, so I could get my suitcase. Thankfully the rain had stopped and I drove into the airport lot directly across from the baggage pick up. I walked in and was greeted by an airport employee. I explained my circumstances and asked her if I could get my bag.
"I am sorry, but the airline personnel just left and your bag is locked away." she said with compassion. "You can come back tomorrow morning. They will be here at 5am."
I thanked her and drove to the hotel. I checked in, got my key and found my room. I could not wait to call Don and tell him this newest development - if for nothing else, to give us both a laugh. I ran a bath, washed my underclothes and missed my toothbrush very much! I crawled into bed and tried to sleep...
Monday, December 17, 2007
A Christmas Story You Have Never Read - I PROMISE!
My Daddy today....shhhhh - don't tell, but he is actually 81 years old!
One of the most time consuming challenges I faced when my daughters were growing up was keeping their Christmas gifts a secret until Christmas day! They were so sneaky! Long gone were the simple days of them just shaking a package or carefully peeling back the tape. No, my daughters were so outrageous that one time I noticed some vaguely familiar panties in the dirty clothes, only to realize that these were one of Emily’s gifts!! When approached about it, she shrugged her shoulders and offered up,
“You always give us new panties and I needed them now. Hey, at least I really like them!”
I was left standing, mouth hanging wide open, still holding her unwashed, already used panties, utterly speechless. Part of me wanted to rewrap them – still dirty! For half of a second I wondered why she was the way that she was, until a very distant memory crept back into my mind.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Every Tuesday night for as long as I can remember my Mother went to Aerobic exercise class from 7 to 8pm. She used to boast that she was the oldest woman in her class, but by far not the slowest and certainly not the heaviest! I was proud of her for keeping such a tight guard on her figure, but it was in this tight schedule where my mischievous mind got me into trouble.
You see, it was Christmas time and my Mother was an excellent gift giver! She had the talent to listen when you thought she was not, to see what you wanted when you looked at something and the special sense to just know that you would love something even if you had never seen it! Sadly though, she was horrible about hiding our wonderful Christmas loot. Instead, she would return from her shopping voyage and stack the bags of decadence in her closet for all to see. The higher the pile stacked as the days passed by, the louder the gifts would call out to me and one night, it was just more than I could bare!
I conceived a plan. A plan that would unfold on that very night; Tuesday night, when Mom was in her Aerobic dance class. She would never know because I would have more than enough time to note exactly how the bags were stacked, how each item was placed in its own bag and most importantly, I would have the time to relish in the luxurious booty that was to be mine!!!
Dinner was uneventful, but seemed to drag on for an eternity. I ate fast. Why couldn’t everyone else? When asked about my day, my answers were short and to the point. This was not a night for lectures or deep discussions. Finally, I asked to be excused and almost made the mistake of saying that I had homework to do. That SURLY would have given me away!
I tried to busy myself. I picked out my wardrobe for the next day. I played my records. (Those are really large black CD’s for those of you who are of the younger generation.) I even started to read a chapter in a book. That was useless though. I must have read the same sentence 5 times without digesting what it said, until FINALLY, I heard the magic sound! I heard the back door shut! I jumped up onto my bed and carefully pulled back the curtain just in time to see Mom walk into the garage wearing those ugly white exercise tights! VICTORY! I thought. My heart raced as I stared to un-hatch part two of my plan.
I took a deep breath. I did not want anyone to suspect that I was up to anything, especially my pesky brother. I confidently walked out of my room, across the hall and placed my hand on the cold doorknob of my parent’s room. I turned the knob and stepped inside. Three steps and my confidence disappeared. There he was. My Father was sitting up in their bed, a bed that was directly across from Mother’s closet, the safety deposit box of all of my treasures.
Dad, looked up at me from his book and over his reading glasses. Scattered and at a loss for words, I made it seem like I was in there to visit with him,
“Hi Dad. What are you doing?” Whew! I kept my voice slow and steady.
“ I am working on a research paper involving (blah blah blah…tumor…blah blah blah…brain….blah blah blah….) It was the stuff only Brain Surgeons talk about on a regular basis.
“Oh, okay. Well, I am going to go and take a bath. I love you.” Foiled! My whole plan was foiled!
“ I love you too.”
Retreating out of the hot zone, a sulking discouraging feeling settled over me as I proceeded to do what I said. Without a thought to my actions, I ran my bath water, gathered a towel, undressed and slipped into the water all the while trying to figure out a plan B. Then it hit me! I raised up from my bath so fast, gallons of water followed me and fell to the floor. Mother did not have time to finish the laundry. Therefore she had not finished putting away all of the clothes and I now had an excuse to get into that closet. My mind was racing! Dad would be so involved in his project that if I went in and out of the room a couple of times, he would stop noticing me.
“That is it!” I thought. “So simple it is utter genius!”
I almost ran back into my room with a towel on my head. I dropped my belongings on my bed and went to the laundry room.
“YES!” There it was. A full basket of clean clothes waiting to be folded and put away. I dumped the basket, folded each item and separated them into different piles. I threw my brothers clothes carelessly onto his bed and then took about a quarter of my parent’s items. I was exactly right. The first time I walked into their room, Dad took full notice.
“I’m sorry Dad. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I was just putting the rest of these clothes away.” After all, I was not such an obnoxious child that I never helped out. He thanked me and went back to his work.
I left the room, went back to the pile of clothes to choose a few more. Waiting the appropriate amount of time, again I went back in. I was right. Dad did not even make eye contact with me that time and I knew the time was right to make my move!
The third time I entered, I silently just opened Mothers closet door and just slipped inside. With the most tender touch, I released the closet door knob and found a place to comfortably sit on the floor. Ever so softly, I pulled a bag towards me. Every crackle of the paper made my face cringe and I learned the art of moving at a turtles pace. The soft tissue made much less noise inside the bag. As I parted it and I could see a burst of color. It was cobalt blue!
“Oh – was it the cashmere sweater I had fallen in love with or maybe a beautiful silk blouse?” My heart was pounding so loud it dimmed the sound of the moving paper.
Looking closer, I was disappointed to see that the cobalt blue item was actually a new camera bag for Dad.
“Well fuey! All of that work for nothing!” I thought, “ but onto the next bag!”
Again I carefully pulled down another bag. This bag was large and had more than one item inside. “Maybe an entire outfit!” Again I slowly unfolded the top and started to open it. I could see an assortment of coordinating jewel toned colors and textures. Pants, sweaters, blouses and a stunning pencil skirt….MY FAVORITE!! I was so excited as I was pulling each item out of the bag, I actually forgot the most important thing…that my Father was just outside the door! I froze. I sat perfectly still and listened. I did not hear a sound, so I vowed to be more careful and continued searching.
The next bag was tossed to the side as it had something my brother had been whining for. The next was filled to the brim with new work clothes for my Dad. I was starting to get discouraged. Pulling down the next bag captured my attention so acutely, I had not noticed that my Father was standing at the opened closet door.
I almost jumped out of my skin as he spoke.
“What do you think you are doing young lady?” He stood there, right there in the only escape route, without an expression on his face.
Okay – so before I continue I want you to see my Dad the way I saw him. He was a big softy. I was his only little girl and I just knew he loved me best – as all little girls truly believe. He never laid a hand on me, but in the most stern way, he demanded respect and believe me, he got it!
I stood there motionless, heart throbbing in my throat so hard I could not breathe, still searching my possible options. There weren’t any. I had to just fess up and tell him the truth.
Lowering my chin and trying to escape his eye contact, I mumbled “ I am looking at my Christmas gifts.”
He stood there completely silent for an eternity. My eyes searched the floor, the walls, until finally I looked up at him. He was still staring at me. He stepped forward, turned around and shut Mother’s closet door behind him. My eyes got even wider. He walked closer and started to look over my shoulder as he said,
”What did she get me?”
I was stunned. I could not move. Who was this man?
He proceeded to sit Indian style on the floor and left me standing there for a moment while I realized I had just been pardoned from the biggest felony ever committed in our household!
I quickly sat down beside him and drug out every bag as we searched through the treasures together.
“Don’t look in that bag Dad, that is just some stupid stuff for Tom.”
“Okay – so where is mine?” he said.
As I passed him the sack containing the camera bag I knew he would love, I noticed the sparkle in his eyes. My Daddy looked as excited as a 7 year old getting his first new bike! I had to laugh out loud.
My laugh was shattered though. The closet door flew open at the exact second I realized I had lost track of time! There stood the real boss, my Mother!
“What are you two doing?” she exclaimed. She was squeezing the door knob so tightly I thought for a moment it was going to pop. I looked quickly at my Father for an answer, after all he was the smart one! He looked more at a loss for words than I.
Then my Mother started in on a lecture that did not stop until three Christmas’ later.
“I can’t believe, after all the time and work I put into shopping for all of your gifts, that you would go and spoil it like this for me. Do you know how much time and energy I put into all this? I swear, I should just take everything back. Yes – That is what I am going to do, just take every single thing back to the stores and you get nothing! Do you hear me? Nothing!!!”
By this time, Mother had entered the closet, grabbed the opened bags away from us and Dad and I had managed to wiggle our way around her and out the door. I can’t remember which one of us was moving faster but when we came to a safe place to stop, Dad asked,
“Wow, she is mad huh? Do you think she is really going to take everything back?”
I just shrugged my shoulders.
In the distance, you could still hear her yelling, even though she had long lost her audience!
(no - she did not actually take anything back, although she had me believing that she did until Christmas morning!)
One of the most time consuming challenges I faced when my daughters were growing up was keeping their Christmas gifts a secret until Christmas day! They were so sneaky! Long gone were the simple days of them just shaking a package or carefully peeling back the tape. No, my daughters were so outrageous that one time I noticed some vaguely familiar panties in the dirty clothes, only to realize that these were one of Emily’s gifts!! When approached about it, she shrugged her shoulders and offered up,
“You always give us new panties and I needed them now. Hey, at least I really like them!”
I was left standing, mouth hanging wide open, still holding her unwashed, already used panties, utterly speechless. Part of me wanted to rewrap them – still dirty! For half of a second I wondered why she was the way that she was, until a very distant memory crept back into my mind.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Every Tuesday night for as long as I can remember my Mother went to Aerobic exercise class from 7 to 8pm. She used to boast that she was the oldest woman in her class, but by far not the slowest and certainly not the heaviest! I was proud of her for keeping such a tight guard on her figure, but it was in this tight schedule where my mischievous mind got me into trouble.
You see, it was Christmas time and my Mother was an excellent gift giver! She had the talent to listen when you thought she was not, to see what you wanted when you looked at something and the special sense to just know that you would love something even if you had never seen it! Sadly though, she was horrible about hiding our wonderful Christmas loot. Instead, she would return from her shopping voyage and stack the bags of decadence in her closet for all to see. The higher the pile stacked as the days passed by, the louder the gifts would call out to me and one night, it was just more than I could bare!
I conceived a plan. A plan that would unfold on that very night; Tuesday night, when Mom was in her Aerobic dance class. She would never know because I would have more than enough time to note exactly how the bags were stacked, how each item was placed in its own bag and most importantly, I would have the time to relish in the luxurious booty that was to be mine!!!
Dinner was uneventful, but seemed to drag on for an eternity. I ate fast. Why couldn’t everyone else? When asked about my day, my answers were short and to the point. This was not a night for lectures or deep discussions. Finally, I asked to be excused and almost made the mistake of saying that I had homework to do. That SURLY would have given me away!
I tried to busy myself. I picked out my wardrobe for the next day. I played my records. (Those are really large black CD’s for those of you who are of the younger generation.) I even started to read a chapter in a book. That was useless though. I must have read the same sentence 5 times without digesting what it said, until FINALLY, I heard the magic sound! I heard the back door shut! I jumped up onto my bed and carefully pulled back the curtain just in time to see Mom walk into the garage wearing those ugly white exercise tights! VICTORY! I thought. My heart raced as I stared to un-hatch part two of my plan.
I took a deep breath. I did not want anyone to suspect that I was up to anything, especially my pesky brother. I confidently walked out of my room, across the hall and placed my hand on the cold doorknob of my parent’s room. I turned the knob and stepped inside. Three steps and my confidence disappeared. There he was. My Father was sitting up in their bed, a bed that was directly across from Mother’s closet, the safety deposit box of all of my treasures.
Dad, looked up at me from his book and over his reading glasses. Scattered and at a loss for words, I made it seem like I was in there to visit with him,
“Hi Dad. What are you doing?” Whew! I kept my voice slow and steady.
“ I am working on a research paper involving (blah blah blah…tumor…blah blah blah…brain….blah blah blah….) It was the stuff only Brain Surgeons talk about on a regular basis.
“Oh, okay. Well, I am going to go and take a bath. I love you.” Foiled! My whole plan was foiled!
“ I love you too.”
Retreating out of the hot zone, a sulking discouraging feeling settled over me as I proceeded to do what I said. Without a thought to my actions, I ran my bath water, gathered a towel, undressed and slipped into the water all the while trying to figure out a plan B. Then it hit me! I raised up from my bath so fast, gallons of water followed me and fell to the floor. Mother did not have time to finish the laundry. Therefore she had not finished putting away all of the clothes and I now had an excuse to get into that closet. My mind was racing! Dad would be so involved in his project that if I went in and out of the room a couple of times, he would stop noticing me.
“That is it!” I thought. “So simple it is utter genius!”
I almost ran back into my room with a towel on my head. I dropped my belongings on my bed and went to the laundry room.
“YES!” There it was. A full basket of clean clothes waiting to be folded and put away. I dumped the basket, folded each item and separated them into different piles. I threw my brothers clothes carelessly onto his bed and then took about a quarter of my parent’s items. I was exactly right. The first time I walked into their room, Dad took full notice.
“I’m sorry Dad. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I was just putting the rest of these clothes away.” After all, I was not such an obnoxious child that I never helped out. He thanked me and went back to his work.
I left the room, went back to the pile of clothes to choose a few more. Waiting the appropriate amount of time, again I went back in. I was right. Dad did not even make eye contact with me that time and I knew the time was right to make my move!
The third time I entered, I silently just opened Mothers closet door and just slipped inside. With the most tender touch, I released the closet door knob and found a place to comfortably sit on the floor. Ever so softly, I pulled a bag towards me. Every crackle of the paper made my face cringe and I learned the art of moving at a turtles pace. The soft tissue made much less noise inside the bag. As I parted it and I could see a burst of color. It was cobalt blue!
“Oh – was it the cashmere sweater I had fallen in love with or maybe a beautiful silk blouse?” My heart was pounding so loud it dimmed the sound of the moving paper.
Looking closer, I was disappointed to see that the cobalt blue item was actually a new camera bag for Dad.
“Well fuey! All of that work for nothing!” I thought, “ but onto the next bag!”
Again I carefully pulled down another bag. This bag was large and had more than one item inside. “Maybe an entire outfit!” Again I slowly unfolded the top and started to open it. I could see an assortment of coordinating jewel toned colors and textures. Pants, sweaters, blouses and a stunning pencil skirt….MY FAVORITE!! I was so excited as I was pulling each item out of the bag, I actually forgot the most important thing…that my Father was just outside the door! I froze. I sat perfectly still and listened. I did not hear a sound, so I vowed to be more careful and continued searching.
The next bag was tossed to the side as it had something my brother had been whining for. The next was filled to the brim with new work clothes for my Dad. I was starting to get discouraged. Pulling down the next bag captured my attention so acutely, I had not noticed that my Father was standing at the opened closet door.
I almost jumped out of my skin as he spoke.
“What do you think you are doing young lady?” He stood there, right there in the only escape route, without an expression on his face.
Okay – so before I continue I want you to see my Dad the way I saw him. He was a big softy. I was his only little girl and I just knew he loved me best – as all little girls truly believe. He never laid a hand on me, but in the most stern way, he demanded respect and believe me, he got it!
I stood there motionless, heart throbbing in my throat so hard I could not breathe, still searching my possible options. There weren’t any. I had to just fess up and tell him the truth.
Lowering my chin and trying to escape his eye contact, I mumbled “ I am looking at my Christmas gifts.”
He stood there completely silent for an eternity. My eyes searched the floor, the walls, until finally I looked up at him. He was still staring at me. He stepped forward, turned around and shut Mother’s closet door behind him. My eyes got even wider. He walked closer and started to look over my shoulder as he said,
”What did she get me?”
I was stunned. I could not move. Who was this man?
He proceeded to sit Indian style on the floor and left me standing there for a moment while I realized I had just been pardoned from the biggest felony ever committed in our household!
I quickly sat down beside him and drug out every bag as we searched through the treasures together.
“Don’t look in that bag Dad, that is just some stupid stuff for Tom.”
“Okay – so where is mine?” he said.
As I passed him the sack containing the camera bag I knew he would love, I noticed the sparkle in his eyes. My Daddy looked as excited as a 7 year old getting his first new bike! I had to laugh out loud.
My laugh was shattered though. The closet door flew open at the exact second I realized I had lost track of time! There stood the real boss, my Mother!
“What are you two doing?” she exclaimed. She was squeezing the door knob so tightly I thought for a moment it was going to pop. I looked quickly at my Father for an answer, after all he was the smart one! He looked more at a loss for words than I.
Then my Mother started in on a lecture that did not stop until three Christmas’ later.
“I can’t believe, after all the time and work I put into shopping for all of your gifts, that you would go and spoil it like this for me. Do you know how much time and energy I put into all this? I swear, I should just take everything back. Yes – That is what I am going to do, just take every single thing back to the stores and you get nothing! Do you hear me? Nothing!!!”
By this time, Mother had entered the closet, grabbed the opened bags away from us and Dad and I had managed to wiggle our way around her and out the door. I can’t remember which one of us was moving faster but when we came to a safe place to stop, Dad asked,
“Wow, she is mad huh? Do you think she is really going to take everything back?”
I just shrugged my shoulders.
In the distance, you could still hear her yelling, even though she had long lost her audience!
(no - she did not actually take anything back, although she had me believing that she did until Christmas morning!)
Friday, October 12, 2007
Soooo - How's the Bike Riding Going?
“How is the bike riding going?”
People keep asking me this same question. Well, I am here to say that I have lost every last ounce of my dignity trying to figure this thing out. Wow! It is so much different than anything else I have ever tried and although I am having a blast, there has been more than one occasion where I had to stop and laugh out loud at myself!
For the first time Tuesday, I drove a sizable distance of about 175 miles. Don and I decided to go all the way to Hempstead – thus giving us experience on both a 2-lane highway and a 4-lane highway where the speed limit was a deafening 70MPH! Translate that into Texan and it means if you are not going at least 80, people are going to get pissed off!
Non motorcycle riders do not see nor do they feel the Road Gremlins that attach themselves to you at speeds in excess of 65MPH when there is NO wind. They show up at lower speeds if even the softest breeze is blowing. These said Gremlins grab your waist and jerk your body back and forth, trying to rip you from your bike, which is not for the faint of heart…especially when an 18-wheeler is passing!
I learned that one 18 wheeler passing me will drag my body and bike towards the center of the road and that, I can handle. A caravan of them though, pulls even harder with each passing truck. Fighting the urge to vomit, which would not be a good thing considering I wear a full face helmet, I keep fighting the said Gremlins! I am still here, so I must be doing alright. I tried to be nice and discovered that all it is going to do is get me killed faster. Once when a row of drivers lined up behind us, I pulled over to the shoulder. Many appreciative drivers zipped by – not a one signaling a thank you! After about 30 seconds, my nice clean shoulder deteriorated and I was now again in danger, driving on gravel!
I have learned that when a bug hits me at speeds in excess of 50MPH, it is indistinguishable from a rock and the only tell tale evidence is whose blood is on my clothes! I know now that my right foot will NEVER understand that the forward petal is the back brake. I spent over 30 years telling that foot that it is the gas petal foot and it has told me in no uncertain terms – it will not go forward when I want to stop. For that reason, I spent an extra thousand dollars to get antilock brakes, which also engage both brakes when the hand brake is applied.
My biggest fear is pulling out in traffic from a stop and stalling my bike. My most difficult task to date has been attempting to pull out into traffic from a stop on an incline. Actually – in here lies the death of my dignity. You see, I thought I found a better way to get onto a back road in the tiny town of Anderson. This back road though intersected with the main road we wanted to get on with an incline. We were at the stop sign. Lucky me, a large diesel truck pulled up behind us and each time I tried to start, easing off the clutch and trying to apply enough gas, I stalled my engine. One ~ Two ~ Three stalls and each time I moved forward a few more inches. The third time, I put my foot back on the ground to try again. This time my foot landed in gravel and with not one seconds notice, my foot flew out from under my weight and the 450 pound bike started to lean. In a microsecond I knew I was on my way down. Sadly, not only was there a decline behind me, but also on my right side, so when I went down, the bike was literally on top of me! Picture road kill here! Looking up, I saw a man running out of the truck behind us to try and help. It was now that I realized he saw that I was a girl….Yeah – I felt like a girl too and not in a good way! He and Don pulled the bike off of my carcass and as an added dose of humiliation, the trucker held my bike into place until I took off…okay – I felt like a 5 year old learning how to ride a bicycle without training wheels for the first time….Yep, that was me!
Funeral services will be held for my pride at 3pm today!
Julie
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
An Interesting Hotel..or MOTEL Adventure!
Overall, I had a wonderful time covering the Saddlebred Horse show at the State Fair, but it did get off to quite a rocky start! So here is the story!
I booked the host hotel, a place recommended by the show management. I contacted the hotel directly to see if I was allowed to bring my dog Chrissy, a small Pembroke Welsh Corgi and they said it was fine with no charge. I sleep so much better in a hotel room when I am alone, with her with me and she is very well behaved. Also makes it easier to strike up a conversation with anyone when you have a cute dog on a leash!
So Thursday, I was on schedule - planning to get to Dallas at 10:30am. I drove up to the said "Host Hotel" and was shocked! Actually I was shocked before I got there as only 1 block away was an abandoned building and a Cabaret show...and I ain't talking about the good kind either! To make matters worse, this hotel - which I always thought had such a good reputation, was literally falling down! As God is my witness, the 2nd floor was sagging down! I swear - I am not a snob about all of this and I actually went and got my key to check in. I went to my room - which was around the back and ran into a drunk man. Trying to just get away from him, I proceeded to my room. (You entered your room from the exterior of the hotel.) The card key would not work and as I tried to move the door handle back and forth while inserting the key, the DOOR FRAME MOVED!...in other words, I think the door had been kicked in at some time!..Well, that was the last straw. I walked straight back to the front desk and told the lady about everything that had just happened to me. She acted like she knew who the drunk man was and told me she would have him removed if I wanted her to! OMG - NO...just clear my credit card and let me out of here I told her. While I was in the lobby, there were other people checking out for the same reason I was.
I proceeded towards Mesquite, just a few miles away, but a much nicer area and started my search for a new hotel. Hotel after hotel turned me down because of my dog. At the fifth hotel chain that I stopped in, I realized that if they did not give me a room, I was going to be late for my first show. As the man behind the counter started to tell me that they had a no pet policy, I burst into tears. I was so stressed, I could not hold it in. His eyes widened like saucers, he lowered his chin and he corrected his statement by saying,
"Never mind, I have a room for you." I thanked him profusely and assured him my dog was not going to be a problem and also offered to come and go through a back door. I got settled into my room, changed and made it to the show maybe 5 minutes before the first class started.
I was in a room that is cost $109.00 base per night and then another $10.00 per night was charged for my dog. Roughly twice the price of the first hotel. I had to accept it and felt fine about offering to pay for part of this room. My new boss had nothing to do with this situation, as we are given free will to book any hotel we want as long as it is within a reasonable price range. I knew if I had done more research I could have found a nice hotel for half of what I was now paying! That night I constructed a long e-mail to my new boss telling him all of what I just told you and he graciously told me he would NEVER want me to stay in a hotel that I did not feel safe in and said he would gladly pay for the room I was in. What a relief and proof that the nice things that have been said about this man are very very true!
I booked the host hotel, a place recommended by the show management. I contacted the hotel directly to see if I was allowed to bring my dog Chrissy, a small Pembroke Welsh Corgi and they said it was fine with no charge. I sleep so much better in a hotel room when I am alone, with her with me and she is very well behaved. Also makes it easier to strike up a conversation with anyone when you have a cute dog on a leash!
So Thursday, I was on schedule - planning to get to Dallas at 10:30am. I drove up to the said "Host Hotel" and was shocked! Actually I was shocked before I got there as only 1 block away was an abandoned building and a Cabaret show...and I ain't talking about the good kind either! To make matters worse, this hotel - which I always thought had such a good reputation, was literally falling down! As God is my witness, the 2nd floor was sagging down! I swear - I am not a snob about all of this and I actually went and got my key to check in. I went to my room - which was around the back and ran into a drunk man. Trying to just get away from him, I proceeded to my room. (You entered your room from the exterior of the hotel.) The card key would not work and as I tried to move the door handle back and forth while inserting the key, the DOOR FRAME MOVED!...in other words, I think the door had been kicked in at some time!..Well, that was the last straw. I walked straight back to the front desk and told the lady about everything that had just happened to me. She acted like she knew who the drunk man was and told me she would have him removed if I wanted her to! OMG - NO...just clear my credit card and let me out of here I told her. While I was in the lobby, there were other people checking out for the same reason I was.
I proceeded towards Mesquite, just a few miles away, but a much nicer area and started my search for a new hotel. Hotel after hotel turned me down because of my dog. At the fifth hotel chain that I stopped in, I realized that if they did not give me a room, I was going to be late for my first show. As the man behind the counter started to tell me that they had a no pet policy, I burst into tears. I was so stressed, I could not hold it in. His eyes widened like saucers, he lowered his chin and he corrected his statement by saying,
"Never mind, I have a room for you." I thanked him profusely and assured him my dog was not going to be a problem and also offered to come and go through a back door. I got settled into my room, changed and made it to the show maybe 5 minutes before the first class started.
I was in a room that is cost $109.00 base per night and then another $10.00 per night was charged for my dog. Roughly twice the price of the first hotel. I had to accept it and felt fine about offering to pay for part of this room. My new boss had nothing to do with this situation, as we are given free will to book any hotel we want as long as it is within a reasonable price range. I knew if I had done more research I could have found a nice hotel for half of what I was now paying! That night I constructed a long e-mail to my new boss telling him all of what I just told you and he graciously told me he would NEVER want me to stay in a hotel that I did not feel safe in and said he would gladly pay for the room I was in. What a relief and proof that the nice things that have been said about this man are very very true!
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Will Thou Love Her...
I undress in the darkness, hoping no one will see.
Only a scar is left, where my breast used to be.
I slip into the tub, with the door securely locked,
Assuring the view of my ugliness, is fully blocked.
I bear the scars of cancer, the cruelest beast alive,
He's trying to strike me down, with Chemotherapy at his side.
My body's frail, my hair is gone along with my strength,
But still I must stand and fight, and go to any length.
I rise up from the water, pulling a towel about my frame.
I wear a scarf around my head, to cover what cancer maimed.
I don a gown that covers me, as I crawl into our bed.
Under the covers and covered up, I turn away my head.
I think about my husband, how cheated he must feel.
A wife I've not been to him, my passions lost it's zeal.
He rolls over to hold me close. I try to get away.
How could he want me now, so ugly, thin and gray?
He turned me over, kissed my face, pulled the scarf from my head.
"Don't you know that you are beautiful in my eyes?" He said.
He unbuttoned my gown and took it off, as tears ran down my face.
He kissed my head and over my scar his fingers did trace.
"I care not about your hair, your weight, or your scar.
It is you whom I love, and that, no disease can mar!"
Only a scar is left, where my breast used to be.
I slip into the tub, with the door securely locked,
Assuring the view of my ugliness, is fully blocked.
I bear the scars of cancer, the cruelest beast alive,
He's trying to strike me down, with Chemotherapy at his side.
My body's frail, my hair is gone along with my strength,
But still I must stand and fight, and go to any length.
I rise up from the water, pulling a towel about my frame.
I wear a scarf around my head, to cover what cancer maimed.
I don a gown that covers me, as I crawl into our bed.
Under the covers and covered up, I turn away my head.
I think about my husband, how cheated he must feel.
A wife I've not been to him, my passions lost it's zeal.
He rolls over to hold me close. I try to get away.
How could he want me now, so ugly, thin and gray?
He turned me over, kissed my face, pulled the scarf from my head.
"Don't you know that you are beautiful in my eyes?" He said.
He unbuttoned my gown and took it off, as tears ran down my face.
He kissed my head and over my scar his fingers did trace.
"I care not about your hair, your weight, or your scar.
It is you whom I love, and that, no disease can mar!"
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Trip to Tenn.
Yesterday I made a whirlwind 1 day trip to Greenfield TN. to see a couple of my horses. The basic plan was what I have done in the past; take the first flight out of Houston to Memphis, pick up a rental car, drive to the farm (2hour drive) spend 3-4 hours there, drive back and catch the last flight out. That was the plan anyway!
As you may (or may not know) this week is the aniversary of Elvis' death and apparently that is big stuff in TN! ...so although I could get a flight in and out of Memphis, I could not get a rental car in the airport. I ended up having to get a taxi to take me to an agency that was off airport property. After he left me there, the nice people at Enterprise told me that several customers had not returned their cars and they did not have one for me to rent! OMG - I thought ..I had just taken a vacation day and already flown in..and now this! One of the guys whispered to another worker that they did have a cargo van. The minute I heard him say that, I screamed,
"I'll take it!!! Two Days ago, I was pissed because I could not find a sports car to rent and now I am thrilled to drive a cargo van.....HAND OVER THE KEYS!"
"Can you drive a cargo van , Maam??" he stupidly asked.
"Honey, a couple of months ago I hauled a horse trailer filled with several horses in a 1 ton, crew cab, duelly from Texas to Tenn. Hell yes I can drive a little cargo van!...HAND OVER THE KEYS!"
The girls in the back were laughing hysterically. They gave me free gas and I was off. This was a van with 2 captain seats and nothing else! It was totally stripped out in the back other than a rubber mat on the floor. It did not even have windows down the side!
I was quite dressed up since it is required when employees travel and I had more than a few people look at me strange. The horse trainer laughed out loud when he saw it too, but in the end, it worked, got me to the farm and back and I even made the return flight without any problem!
As you may (or may not know) this week is the aniversary of Elvis' death and apparently that is big stuff in TN! ...so although I could get a flight in and out of Memphis, I could not get a rental car in the airport. I ended up having to get a taxi to take me to an agency that was off airport property. After he left me there, the nice people at Enterprise told me that several customers had not returned their cars and they did not have one for me to rent! OMG - I thought ..I had just taken a vacation day and already flown in..and now this! One of the guys whispered to another worker that they did have a cargo van. The minute I heard him say that, I screamed,
"I'll take it!!! Two Days ago, I was pissed because I could not find a sports car to rent and now I am thrilled to drive a cargo van.....HAND OVER THE KEYS!"
"Can you drive a cargo van , Maam??" he stupidly asked.
"Honey, a couple of months ago I hauled a horse trailer filled with several horses in a 1 ton, crew cab, duelly from Texas to Tenn. Hell yes I can drive a little cargo van!...HAND OVER THE KEYS!"
The girls in the back were laughing hysterically. They gave me free gas and I was off. This was a van with 2 captain seats and nothing else! It was totally stripped out in the back other than a rubber mat on the floor. It did not even have windows down the side!
I was quite dressed up since it is required when employees travel and I had more than a few people look at me strange. The horse trainer laughed out loud when he saw it too, but in the end, it worked, got me to the farm and back and I even made the return flight without any problem!
Friday, August 3, 2007
Chrissy Says Boo!
We actually have 5 Pembroke Welsh Corgi dogs. There is Chrissy, who lives inside with us; Kacey, Chrissy’s “husband”; Annibelle and Bruiser, who are 2 of Chrissy’s pups; and Petey, who was adopted out of a shelter. Years ago Kacey used to also live inside. Nature’s call was too strong though and when Chrissy would go into heat, although they were separated, Kacey started to ‘mark’ things. The day marked my favorite pillow, he was banned from the house forever!
Chrissy is the easiest dog to teach. Her ‘vocabulary’ is huge and she enjoys playing games with us. One year, I thought it would be cute to teach her to carry a plastic pumpkin to the door to greet the Trick or Treater’s. To encourage her, every time I asked her to bring me the “Punkin”, she would be rewarded with a treat thrown into the candy bucket. She learned quickly not to stick her head into the bucket, but rather roll it until the treat would fall out. After a few times, I thought I noticed a slight attitude as I refused to give her the reward without the pumpkin! I knew my suspicion was correct the day that she walked half way to the treat jar and slung the pumpkin at my feet. Little did Chrissy know that the pumpkin was only half of her Halloween Costume!
Monday, July 30, 2007
Horse Fever ~ Chapter 1
My Father used to always say that the worst mistake he ever made in raising me was to take me over to Main Street to ride the Shetland Ponies. I remember it like it was yesterday:
My heart would race on the drive over. Tightly holding onto the bag of change I had been collecting for doing chores around the house, my fingers started to sweat. At the ripe age of six, I could hardly sit still in my seat. From the moment we pulled into the driveway to park, I would scope out all the horses. Never would I allow them to tell me which one to ride. Waiting and watching carefully, I looked for a horse of size and spirit and one who would certainly canter if I asked. At the Main Street Pony Rides, a horse of size was only 11 or 12 hands high. After watching the other children ride and carefully making my decision, I would take my bag of coins, mostly made up of pennies to the ticket booth to make my purchase.
“Four tickets please.” I requested handing over my bag.
The old man behind the booth was tall and thin. His unshaven face or the dirt under his fingernails did not blemish my opinion of him. In my eyes, he had the best job in the world.
Moving my money to the side of the counter, he started to tear off the tickets.
“Aren’t you gonna count it?” I asked.
With a chuckle, he looked me straight in the eye and said, “No, I trust you.” And he handed me the passport to my dream.
Sitting astride the small steed I picked out to ride, we would walk a few steps onto the track before we were out of reach of my Father and the barn hands. At the very second all was clear, I would kick and cue the horse to a canter, knowing very well we were not suppose to canter the ponies. A few times I was not allowed to ride the same horse for all four rides. I also knew to never make eye contact with my Father until all four rides were over, lest he order me to obey the rules!
My heart would race on the drive over. Tightly holding onto the bag of change I had been collecting for doing chores around the house, my fingers started to sweat. At the ripe age of six, I could hardly sit still in my seat. From the moment we pulled into the driveway to park, I would scope out all the horses. Never would I allow them to tell me which one to ride. Waiting and watching carefully, I looked for a horse of size and spirit and one who would certainly canter if I asked. At the Main Street Pony Rides, a horse of size was only 11 or 12 hands high. After watching the other children ride and carefully making my decision, I would take my bag of coins, mostly made up of pennies to the ticket booth to make my purchase.
“Four tickets please.” I requested handing over my bag.
The old man behind the booth was tall and thin. His unshaven face or the dirt under his fingernails did not blemish my opinion of him. In my eyes, he had the best job in the world.
Moving my money to the side of the counter, he started to tear off the tickets.
“Aren’t you gonna count it?” I asked.
With a chuckle, he looked me straight in the eye and said, “No, I trust you.” And he handed me the passport to my dream.
Sitting astride the small steed I picked out to ride, we would walk a few steps onto the track before we were out of reach of my Father and the barn hands. At the very second all was clear, I would kick and cue the horse to a canter, knowing very well we were not suppose to canter the ponies. A few times I was not allowed to ride the same horse for all four rides. I also knew to never make eye contact with my Father until all four rides were over, lest he order me to obey the rules!
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Ivan and the Lake
It was a beautiful summer day and Joy, was home from college. We decided to go riding and meet up by the lake, with a neighbor, Stacey. It is about a half miles ride for each of us to get to the lake as Stacey lived in the opposite direction. Our gelding, Ivan likes our mare, but he loves Stacey’s mare, Lacy! He always acts like a fool around her and never wants to leave, giving me a grumpy horse to deal with on the way home! Well, Joy and I started to ride toward the lake. It took about 15 minutes to get down there and it was pretty uneventful. Half way around the lake, we met Stacey and decided to go North into the woods and ride on some trails.
Everyone turned their horses North and started to walk. Ivan refused to move. He was ignoring my requests; clucks, kicks and giving him all the reins he could need. All of a sudden, Ivan started to back up. I have no explanation why he decided to do this, but my go forward requests became more demanding at this point. We were maybe 8 feet away from the water.
Ivan is a very large horse, measuring 17 hands at the withers. Add the classic Saddlebred neck and to the average sized person, he is huge! For this reason, from the moment I purchased him, I decided to never fall or bail off of him. Because of the distance to the ground and his brute strength, I was better off fighting any battle I had with him, on his back!
All the other riders were twisted around in their saddles staring at me with their mouths wide open. Ivan continued to move backwards and we were now in the mud. As a last ditch effort, I tried to hit Ivan on the butt with the crop – once again asking him to go F-O-R-W-A-R-D. But no..back, back, back we went. This is a man made lake and after a short shallow ease into the water…there is a 30 foot cliff! We were in the water and then with one more step, it was as if someone had removed the floor out from beneath us and we went under. For the first time ever, I decided to bail off of Ivan and fend for myself. The only thing above water were our heads. Swimming back to the shore, I could feel Ivan’s legs swinging under the water, dangerously close to my own.
I was crawling up the bank on my hands and knees and ironically, so was Ivan. Neither of us could get traction on the slippery mud. Ivan managed to get out only covered with water. I, on the other hand, was covered in green slime. I had slime strings hanging off of my arms and legs that were over 3 feet long! I smelled like dead fish. At this time, I looked back at my riding partners. Ironically, they had not moved one inch, still sitting on their horses with their mouths wide open. I grabbed Ivan’s reins. He was dancing around in circles snorting fiercely at the lake. I knew exactly what he was thinking. In Ivan’s pea sized brain, I am sure if he was telling the story, it would have involved a lake monster who came up out of the water and drug him in by his tail! ..and since the Lake Monster claimed one of Ivan’s show shoes, I had to hand walk him back to the barn. For the entire mile walk back, Ivan refused to flat walk beside me. He instead trotted a level side pass right in front of me, staring at the lake and snorting.
For hours all during the rest of the day and into the evening, I could hear snickers of laughter coming from all parts of the house….
The above photo is my friend Janie Hamilton riding Ivan.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Story Time!
A Stud Contract
Once we were sure that we were going to move further out into the country and build our farm, I decided to give myself a gift. Always dreaming of breeding and raising my own horse, I though this would be the perfect time. It was springtime and Pin Oak Charity horse show had just come to an end. Hours of winter evenings were spent thumbing through Saddlebred journals that were filled with advertisements for Stallions standing at stud around our nation. Carefully studying pedigrees and body types only confirmed my original choice. My favorite was a former World Champion 5 gaited stallion named Heir to Champagne.
I phoned the barn manager where this stallion was standing to get some information. She advised me of the costs, which when added up were substantially more than I thought they would be. Using a stallion that was located out of state meant that we were going to either have to ship the mare to the stallion or do artificial insemination. We decided to do it anyway and due to the long distance, we used transported semen.
My next step was to take our mare to the vet to get a fertility check up and to have an ultrasound performed to see how far away she was from ovulation. The next day I left Blondie at the vet’s office with the intention of picking her up that evening after work.
During the day, I received a call verifying that the mare was in perfect health, but that she was going to ovulate in only a few days! Very excited and yet panicked, I called the barn manager again. She calmed my nerves and told me how to express mail the check to them. She would fax me a copy of the Breeding contract the next morning, and before we ended the call I gave her all of my vet’s information. I was elated! Another piece of my dream was going to come true.
Barely able to sleep, I envisioned the beautiful foal we would have the next year. I got out of bed and started to get ready for work early and tried to think if I had forgotten to call anyone of our many friends to inform them of the great news. I could not stop smiling.
Getting to work and trying to concentrate was difficult to say the least. Every project I worked on was interrupted by my day dreaming. I knew the contract was going to be faxed to me and was anxiously waiting for it. About mid-morning, most of the workforce had arrived but the office was still a bit quiet. A woman was walking through the isles on our floor from the business station towards me. I could see her over the half back cubical wall that surrounded my desk. Keeping my fingers crossed, our eyes met when she was still about 100 feet away.
“Juuuuuulieeeeeeeeee” Her voice sung out nice and loud as she started to smirk. Skipping and waiving the paper around the top of her head as if she were imitating a helicopter. “I have your stuuuuuuuuuddddd contraaaaact!”
I bit my lip and tried to sink down in my chair to disappear. A roar of laughter rang out over the floor and I realized I had to stand and face my tormentor. “Give me that.” I said as she approached. I started to laugh.
Just as I was about to sit back down, another woman stood up. She was a passive meek looking lady in her mid sixties. I do not remember ever seeing her. Looking straight at me and in a whinny voice she said, “I want a stud contract!” Not sure how to reply, I just sunk back down into my chair.
________________________________
The above picture is of the resulting filly born from this breeding!
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Story Time
A MIRACLE IN PARADISE
By Julie Size
If you have ever had the notion that a well-bred weanling is priced to high, this story just might change your mind.
South of Dallas, TX, there is a very large farm aptly named Paradise. It is here where a beautiful young Saddlebred stallion, El Dorado’s Stonewall Jackson, has started his breeding career. The owner and trainer carefully hand picked several mares of varied bloodlines to breed with him, some being quite costly. As with any breeding operation, a few mares are more difficult to get into foal. One or two can be lost early in gestation and usually without enough time to rebreed during the same season. One mare they purchased consistently produced above average, talented foals. She was considered to be the farms foundation mare. Her name is RHR Fury’s Wild Flame and this is her story.
Fury was purchased and brought to the farm in 1999. She has produced 8 foals, 5 while at living at Paradise and 2 of those are by Stony, the farm stallion. Her last colt, Ticket to Paradise, was a farm favorite, which made everyone anxious about the upcoming birth. The days past and her due date came and went. It became obvious, even to the novice horse person that Fury was about to deliver. Her steps were slow and calculated and she was starting to produce milk.
Trent Capps, trainer and manager of Paradise Farms, moved Fury to a front paddock so that he was able to watch her meticulously throughout the day. During the night he and the grooms took turns checking her every few hours. It was during the earliest morning check on March 30th that Trent found Fury laying down in the pasture. He jumped the fence to assist in the long awaited birth. Hearing her loud groans he knew before he reached her, that the foal had not yet been born. Kneeling down to assist, he froze trying to digest what he was actually seeing. The mare was thrashing, kicking, groaning and the foal’s front legs were presenting themselves through the rectum! Trent jumped up and yelled at all the grooms and farm workers to immediately come and help. Only 1 month prior to this had they lost another valuable mare and her filly during its birth. This foal was to be the farms All American Cup baby and Trent could not bear to lose it as well.
All of the grooms and farm hands ran into the pasture to do what they could. Jack, the ranch hand, was on the phone with the vet and yelled out instructions to the others as the vet gave them. Unable to get the mare onto her feet, they had to manually push the foal back into the birth canal, reroute it, and rebirth it. Reaching deep inside the mare Trent and Arturo actually could feel each other’s hands and were able to push the unusually large colt back inside her. Arturo grabbed the front legs and began to pull him out, while Trent was holding his hands inside the mare over the tear. The mare was in anguishing pain, but lay still during this process. Trent continued to speak soft assuring words to Fury as she presented a huge bay stud colt. The colt, however, was born motionless, lifeless. With emotions of anger, fear, and tremendous grief welling up inside, the men were not ready to give up. Laying the colt out on its side, Trent started to massage his chest as one of the grooms blew air into his nose. What seemed like an eternity of time elapsed before the colts chest started to move. His heart pounded so fast and so hard it sounded like the rumble of thunder, almost as if it was catching up for the lost beats. Within seconds, he rose up his head and laid in a sitting up position. “What a miracle!” Trent thought to himself.
For the next 30 minutes the colt was lethargic acting. The mare and colt were given injections of antibiotics. Trent left to hook up the truck and trailer. While he was gone, the other men were able to get Fury to her feet and the colt came alive. Only moments after he took his first steps he was bouncing around the paddock as if he was 3 days old. They were loaded into the trailer and taken to the vet.
Driving away from the farm, Trent had time to reflect on what had happened and what he might have to face. Fury meant the world to him and to lose her would be unbearable. The vet administered Oxitosin and other medications to Fury. Able to stand for short periods, her colt nursed for the first time. Trent milked as much colostrum off of her as he could. He could see it in her eyes. She was bleeding and slowly dying. All attempts to save Fury were failing. The decision was made to humanly stop her suffering and she was euthanized. Trent buried his face into her soft fur. She was his best girl and he had to say good-bye, the single most difficult compassionate act known to horse lovers.
The veterinarian offered to contact Bill Moore who owns a farm in Oklahoma. Mr. Moore has in the past provided nurse mares for these types of situations. Within 7 hours, Miracle was at the Oklahoma farm and being introduced to his nurse mare and new mother, a Haflinger pony who was barely taller than her new adopted son! The mare was put into stocks and hobbled. Miracle nursed off of her and after 2 days she had accepted him as her very own. Both were brought back to reside in Paradise. They spend their days grazing the green pastures and nights getting the rest they need. May I introduce you to Fury’s last foal, a colt named Miracle in Paradise.
By Julie Size
If you have ever had the notion that a well-bred weanling is priced to high, this story just might change your mind.
South of Dallas, TX, there is a very large farm aptly named Paradise. It is here where a beautiful young Saddlebred stallion, El Dorado’s Stonewall Jackson, has started his breeding career. The owner and trainer carefully hand picked several mares of varied bloodlines to breed with him, some being quite costly. As with any breeding operation, a few mares are more difficult to get into foal. One or two can be lost early in gestation and usually without enough time to rebreed during the same season. One mare they purchased consistently produced above average, talented foals. She was considered to be the farms foundation mare. Her name is RHR Fury’s Wild Flame and this is her story.
Fury was purchased and brought to the farm in 1999. She has produced 8 foals, 5 while at living at Paradise and 2 of those are by Stony, the farm stallion. Her last colt, Ticket to Paradise, was a farm favorite, which made everyone anxious about the upcoming birth. The days past and her due date came and went. It became obvious, even to the novice horse person that Fury was about to deliver. Her steps were slow and calculated and she was starting to produce milk.
Trent Capps, trainer and manager of Paradise Farms, moved Fury to a front paddock so that he was able to watch her meticulously throughout the day. During the night he and the grooms took turns checking her every few hours. It was during the earliest morning check on March 30th that Trent found Fury laying down in the pasture. He jumped the fence to assist in the long awaited birth. Hearing her loud groans he knew before he reached her, that the foal had not yet been born. Kneeling down to assist, he froze trying to digest what he was actually seeing. The mare was thrashing, kicking, groaning and the foal’s front legs were presenting themselves through the rectum! Trent jumped up and yelled at all the grooms and farm workers to immediately come and help. Only 1 month prior to this had they lost another valuable mare and her filly during its birth. This foal was to be the farms All American Cup baby and Trent could not bear to lose it as well.
All of the grooms and farm hands ran into the pasture to do what they could. Jack, the ranch hand, was on the phone with the vet and yelled out instructions to the others as the vet gave them. Unable to get the mare onto her feet, they had to manually push the foal back into the birth canal, reroute it, and rebirth it. Reaching deep inside the mare Trent and Arturo actually could feel each other’s hands and were able to push the unusually large colt back inside her. Arturo grabbed the front legs and began to pull him out, while Trent was holding his hands inside the mare over the tear. The mare was in anguishing pain, but lay still during this process. Trent continued to speak soft assuring words to Fury as she presented a huge bay stud colt. The colt, however, was born motionless, lifeless. With emotions of anger, fear, and tremendous grief welling up inside, the men were not ready to give up. Laying the colt out on its side, Trent started to massage his chest as one of the grooms blew air into his nose. What seemed like an eternity of time elapsed before the colts chest started to move. His heart pounded so fast and so hard it sounded like the rumble of thunder, almost as if it was catching up for the lost beats. Within seconds, he rose up his head and laid in a sitting up position. “What a miracle!” Trent thought to himself.
For the next 30 minutes the colt was lethargic acting. The mare and colt were given injections of antibiotics. Trent left to hook up the truck and trailer. While he was gone, the other men were able to get Fury to her feet and the colt came alive. Only moments after he took his first steps he was bouncing around the paddock as if he was 3 days old. They were loaded into the trailer and taken to the vet.
Driving away from the farm, Trent had time to reflect on what had happened and what he might have to face. Fury meant the world to him and to lose her would be unbearable. The vet administered Oxitosin and other medications to Fury. Able to stand for short periods, her colt nursed for the first time. Trent milked as much colostrum off of her as he could. He could see it in her eyes. She was bleeding and slowly dying. All attempts to save Fury were failing. The decision was made to humanly stop her suffering and she was euthanized. Trent buried his face into her soft fur. She was his best girl and he had to say good-bye, the single most difficult compassionate act known to horse lovers.
The veterinarian offered to contact Bill Moore who owns a farm in Oklahoma. Mr. Moore has in the past provided nurse mares for these types of situations. Within 7 hours, Miracle was at the Oklahoma farm and being introduced to his nurse mare and new mother, a Haflinger pony who was barely taller than her new adopted son! The mare was put into stocks and hobbled. Miracle nursed off of her and after 2 days she had accepted him as her very own. Both were brought back to reside in Paradise. They spend their days grazing the green pastures and nights getting the rest they need. May I introduce you to Fury’s last foal, a colt named Miracle in Paradise.
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