Pine Country Feed has~New Hoodies.. They come in 3 colors – gray, denim blue and persimmon. They are only $29.95
If it were entirely up to you there would be time for coffee every morning on the porch, the dog would be welcome in the Board Room and your children’s laughter would be the loudest noise you heard all day. If it were your choice people would always be treated with respect and the longest part of the day would be the ride you take over the range as the sun is just beginning to go down. Not everyone is asking your opinion but in the areas you control, you respond first with kindness, you give a little more than is expected, you make it a point to sit with the old man on the board walk to hear his stories about a long ago war. You’ve never seen anything quite as beautiful as the darks eyes of your mare peeking out from under her mane, and you make a point of letting the people you love know that you do, and you’ve no plans of quitting. You’re a cowgirl and it’s the little things that matter to you, because in the grand scheme of things they are all that you can count on.
When Steve McQueen went on his wild motorcycle ride in the Great Escape he created a symbol of the American spirit that has inspired audiences for decades. That impossible ride over hills and through fences with half the German army chasing him spoke to the heart of liberty that beats in every American, even if we have forgotten why it matters. When we watch his struggle to defy the odds, to rise above the tyranny, to win in an unwinnable situation, we believe – we believe that being American is something more than just where we were born. We realize that the United States is more than a country; it is an attitude, a strength, a commitment to having a dream. We want Steve McQueen to get away and leave the prison camp behind, but when he is captured and sent back to the cooler with his baseball and mitt we know that he takes his American values with him, and for that reason he will survive the ordeal. The Great Escape is a true story, with some Hollywood embellishment, but it doesn’t distort the truth that matters. Freedom is a state of mind as much as a physical condition, and once you own it, no one can take it away.
Warm weather is the call of the day – the time when faces turn to the sun and hearts to the carefree days of late spring. Coffee on the porch in the early morning, a mid afternoon venture through the back pasture astride the mare that always knows just how you feel, the first taste of quiet, breezy evenings when the sun seems reluctant to sink behind the hills. We are determined this year to experience the moments instead of the seasons, to relish the whispers and cling to the reminders that life is a fleeting fancy that should be treasured for its possibilities. We are blessed with the wealth of family and friends and the joy of today and we wish all of you the wonder and warmth of the late, sweet spring.
What were we thinking when we went from the Stage Coach as a main means of mass transportation to the “bigger than the state of Delaware” bus. Buses have gotten so big they have to put an accordion fold in the middle of some of them just to be able to get around a corner. Their size alone seems to give them a sense of entitlement, like ownership of the road, both their lane and yours, comes from the fact that they could run you into a ditch without even feeling it and the amount of fuel they use is heart breaking. In the era of the Stage Coach, the passenger traveled with three, at the most four other people, and most of them wore hats, so you didn’t have their dandruff falling on your shoulder if they dozed off on the trip, and a lot of them were carrying guns, so the fear of hijacking was pretty much alleviated. An occasional hold up, wheel break, or washed out bridge was inevitable, but it just made the trip fodder for the next letter home. The cost of fuel was minimal, water and feed, and during your trip you usually got to stop for a cup of coffee at a ramshackle but cozy place where they were glad to see you and happy to do what they could to make the rest of your journey a pleasant one. If you didn’t mind having your bones rattled and being covered with dust, the Stage Coach was a very civilized way of getting from here to there – not fast, but fuel efficient and these days that is the name of the game.
If you’ve ever watched a dog nap you know that they are much better at it than we are. They pick their spot, without concern for who might be coming through, clearly assuming it is their right to nap, wherever and whenever they want to. They are not concerned with what time of day it is or even if they will be going to bed in two hours; if they’re sleepy they find a comfortable place that is generally warm, but not over heated, and grab a few winks. They are unencumbered by worries about the volume of their snoring, or what they look like when they drool, because they are there to enjoy uninterrupted rest. If in the midst of their snooze if they suddenly become aware of a bunny in the yard or a mailman at the gate they are more than willing to abandon their moment of repose and dart, fully awake toward the object of their concern. So in general the rules seem to be – 1)nap when you’re sleepy, 2)abandon all sense of decorum for a really good snooze, and 3)a nap is not a commitment, but rather a stopover in an otherwise demanding life.
Driving around town today was an effort in “staying between the lines” due the ridiculously high winds, which I have decided I don’t like. I know that it blows the smog out, but if you think about it, that must mean it is blowing someone else’s smog in, and frankly, clean air or not, the wind is annoying. As I drove I passed a man walking up the road, which had a measurable incline, and when I say walking I mean he was “ralking” because I believe his intention was to run, but the wind and the incline were holding him in place. He had his head down and his hand grasping the top of his head in order to keep his hat on and I couldn’t tell for sure, but I think his eyes were closed. At the time he was running by a little group of shops in town, one where coffee is served to sensible people on a windy day and I found myself wondering why he didn’t stop his pretend run and step in for a bit of refreshment. He could get a ride to his car, because we do that sort of thing around here, and drive over to the rec center where he could engage in a productive run on the windless track. It reminded me of the way we conduct our lives at times. We start out to do a thing and when halfway through we discover that the method we have chosen is impractical, way more work than we expected and as a result becoming intensely stressful, but because it was what we started out to do we feel we must finish it or admit failure. Let us remember that failure is not seeing a mistake and correcting it, failure is seeing a mistake and stubbornly making it worse. The lesson here – come in out of the wind and drink your coffee.