Instead of another October Fest, we have Wurst Fest here in New Braunfels.  Years past, Becky Bolin played in the Smithson Valley Highschool Band at Wurst Fest.  We were there again this year, but looking a little different:

 Above, That's John, Becky, her friend Shannon, and Becky's husband Frankie.  We were there to watch the first session of filming by Ian and Teagen's film class with New Braunfel's Info.com.  This is the class:

The kids did on camera interviews and also did lots of the filming.  In this session, the first one, they interviewed each other before and after some of the rides.  Good practice before interviewing the public, and a fun way to start.  Miss Kortnee, the blonde lady is one of thier insturctors.

Above: Teagen films and cues the start.  Ian is among the interviewees.

Ian feigns enthusiasm for the slide ride.

Their camera instructor films this part.

Teagen is interviewed after the fun house.

Ian films and cues the start.

These guys are going on the Ferris Wheel.

Of course, Wurst Fest has lots of German food featuring sausage (of course) and beer and polka bands and accordians and lederhosen.  It's very fun.

We did some other fun things while Frankie and Becky were here visiting, but we all got H1N1 and I haven't been feeling like recording the fun.  However, it's been a week since I got sick, so I'm feeling pretty good now.

Briefly, we went to Natural Bridge Wildlife Park and fed the pan handlers there:

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Join me for a cup of tea?  It's pretty here today--gorgeous actually with blue skies, sunshine and perfect temperatures.  I've got a fat book of Jane Austen stories and the sun sparkles through the spray off  the pond waterfall.  The kids are playing in the leaves, which is kind of dirty as our live oaks shed their leaves in the spring right before they put on the new ones, but seasonal propriety defies the fact that the leaves are half decomposed.  They have always raked leaves in the fall, even in Alabama, and aren't about to give it up here.

Hubby is washing the new car and new horse trailer.  Woohooo!  What a week.  Let me show you.

Here's where we went to get the car:

The two figures in the center in the water are my kids.

Here's a closer look.

You could have joined me for tea here on Tuesday.

This beach was about 3 miles from the dealer's lot.  It's a little place south of Houston.  We spent the night at a brand new Hampton Inn, free thanks to hubby's frequent traveler points.  We had a fantastic meal at a Mexican restaurant that was both really good and really cheap with a nice atmosphere. The rest of the week (3 days) was pretty normal school and work.

Saturday we took off for the Dallas area at about 4:30 a.m.  It's a 5 hour drive to Wills Point where we were going.  We also stopped for breakfast, etc. and had to be there by noon.  We had stopped to look at trailers at two other places on our trip to get the car, and had previously checked out two other trailer sales and I'd spent a lot of time researching on line.  And we talked to folks all summer about trailers.  We wandered around the trailers at rodeos, fairs, etc.  This one that we got was $1500 less than the same brand/make/year trailer in a smaller size nearer to home.  So it was well worth the drive as I'd have paid $2000 more for the same size trailer here if they'd had one.  I did get their best offer here first. 

So here's my new rig: 

The car is a 2004 Excursion diesel--the biggest SUV ever made. They quit making them in 2005.  It is built on a Ford Superduty pickup frame.  But I can haul more people and the groceries.  The kids also have captain chairs and a DVD player, so they like it.  It also gets significantly better milage than smaller gas SUV's and has the power to tow the trailer (or the house too).  It did a great job on this trip.  We love it.  I have to learn to drive it.  I'll get more exercise too because I can't park in close!

The trailer pulled well.  It is a CM Combo 17 foot.  That means it is a combination horse and stock trailer. Look inside:

The front half is a straight load with a removable divider for two horses.  I don't have floor mats down yet.

Then there is a cut gate that separates the two halves of the trailer.  Two more horses can be straight loaded in here, but there is no divider.  Or other livestock can be loaded here.  Or, in our case, the pony wagon (with the tongue off) can go here and the ponies, Zeke and Cookie, can go in the front.  Ian continues to practice his roping, but beyon him you can see the rear gate is a combination swing and slider.

From this side you can see the escape door and the tack compartment door.  You can also see the manger door with a vent in it.  There is one of those on the other side too.  This one does not have a saddle rack built in.  I was sorry about that until someone told me that many people put a water tank in there on it's side and put the saddles on top of that--then you have the saddles up off the floor and have water with you for the horses when you travel.  The only thing I don't like is the door latches, but they are okay.  Some people also put plexiglass panels over the open rails sometimes if they have to haul in really bad weather, but many people didn't like that.  It never really gets that bad here.  We are thinking about it.

This trip was also productive in another way.  We visited two Tennessee Walker farms.  One was a traditional TWH farms with a long aisle surrounded by stalls and the horses gaited up and down the long aisle. The farm is heavily advertised. The other was unadvertised and wonderful.  We rode a golf cart out to a pasture and walked in.  We were surrounded by a herd of interested horses sniffing and snuffling us.  Palaminos predominated.  Several Chestnuts with flaxen manes caught my attention, and the prices were very good.  The horses were mostly unbroke and ranged in age from babies to 5 years, a couple brood mares excepted.  The foals are all imprinted at birth and the owner halter breaks and so forth.  But they then run in the pasture all together.  They all came up to us or stood still and let us come up to them.  They had pretty heads and strong solid legs with good depth and width of chest and no narrow rears nor cow hocks (which I have seen so many times with so many gaited horses that I almost expect them to moo).  The withers blended smoothly into strong broad backs.   Teagen was an object of especial interest, and one baby pulled her hair.  She finally recalled she'd used green apple hair detangler.  We soon had the whole herd collected and following us.  We are talking huge interconnecting pastures where the horses can wander out of sight, not small paddocks.  I was really impressed.  These weren't young 2 year olds being stalled and ridden and worked.  Well bred, well built, and allowed to grow up.  I don't think these horses will break down and I saw some gaiting free when they headed off down the hill as we were leaving.  Maybe I like palamino and chestnut afterall.  However, I had left the camera at the car.  I hadn't understood we were headed for the back forty.

When we came back, John was visiting with a couple who were there for a trail ride (the chamber of commerce had a fund raiser trail ride on this ranch that day).  So the owner took me to see his favorite stallion.  We'd already been in to see the oldest one--and I mean all of us, kids included in the pasture with the old man, who is still an active breeding stallion.  But I went with him alone to see this boy who is a cremello, which explains the prepondeerance of palaminos and buckskins in the pasture.  I did not go into the pen, and the owner laughed and told me to come on in.  Then he tapped the stallion on the back of his front pastern, and the horse bowed down--the real thing, not just a nod!  No halter.  And what I thought was a pen, was actually open to the pasture.  The horse didn't have to stay there.  He'd just come in for a drink.  I rubbed his face and told him how pretty he was and what a good boy, then he wandered back out.  The owner said temperament is important, but raising them right is also important.  He thinks lots of people don't raise or handle their studs right.  This horse had gone on the trail ride this morning, ridden by a guest.  And there was a mare in the next pasture that was in heat.  Two yearling stud colts were having a fit nearby over her.  He had bred and raised this horse himself.  It was born on his ranch to one of his brood mares.  I'm suitably impressed!

See ya!

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Seems like the weather changed with the coming of the equinox.  We now have rain where there was none.  Summer may be over, but autumn brings more than cooler and wetter weather.

School lets out here for the county fair.  Well, the first day of the exhibitions anyway.  Set up and so forth took place earlier in the week, but on the 25^th of September, the Comal County fair kicked off with a parade through New Braunfels.  All three county high schools and the middle schools bands marched.  There were miles of antique tractors, and every civic organization, dance troupe, and kids’ club and all the firetrucks, ambulances, etc that were not on call apparently.   Plenty of equestrian groups, but this time there were poop scoopers cleaning up after them.  Each high school FFA (Future Farmers) had a float with all the kids riding on it. There was even a retiree lawn chair drill team (very funny!) and Sons of Confederate Soldiers in Confederate uniforms. The parade was 2 hours long and well attended.  The weather was sunny, dry and warm.

The following parade pictures were taken with my cell phone.

Our kids had riding lessons after the parade and then we went to the fair.  Comal County has a very nice fair.  Sheep were showing and the poultry and pigeons had not yet been judged, but were plentiful in number.  Fat beef cows sprawled in the barns.  There were no goats, dairy cows, or pigs, but the barns were half empty.  I suspect, but do not know, that this fair follows the practice of other fairs in the state and only has livestock come in on the day they are exhibited.  I see this trend more and more and think it is too bad, though I see where it is more convenient for exhibitors who don’t have to stay with the animals or drive in to tend them all week.  With so many hobby farms and farmers and ranchers dependent upon off farm jobs, this makes sense.  They don’t have to take so much time off from work and can still show at the fair.  The domestic areas were crammed with sewing and quilting and baked goods and crafts.  There were lots of fine arts exhibits, garden produce, hay, eggs, etc.  I did not see a flower show, but there was a whole small building where house plants were exhibited.

We ate dinner at the fair (tacos and smoked sausages), but did not stay for the rodeo this time.  Tickets were $10 with no discount for the kids.  That seemed steep compared to what we’ve paid for tickets elsewhere.  Kids each rode one ride on the midway and they picked a ride that we don’t have in NY.  Then they played some on an inflatable the Marine Corps recruiters had set up for free.  Plenty of fun even without the rodeo, but Ian was pretty disappointed not to watch it.

Sunday was the kids playday at the Cowboy Church in Blanco.  So we went to church there and stayed to watch the playday events.  They were relieved they had gotten the arena dry. Lunch was bring your own or buy great BBQ for cheap by a restaurant in town that set up to cater the event.  Events started with barrel racing with the barrels set in a straight weave pattern.  Kids were divided into groups primarily by age:  0-4, 5-7, 8-11, 12-15, highschool.  15 year olds could be in the highschool group or the juniors group I think.  They had names for each group so it took me a while to figure out the age breakdowns.  Some of it depends on skill and experience, not just age.  The little guys went first on each event, which was done on a lead line.  Basically the daddies propped the babies and toddlers in the saddle and then ran the pattern leading the horse by the reins.  They used the electric eye and gave the daddies times just as if the baby had ridden the pattern themselves.  Very Funny!!  The next group rode the horses by themselves, but would forget where they were going or what the pattern was.  The announcer gave lots of coaching.  Also cute.  Some, however, were amazingly good riders.  8 and up rode for real like any adult.  Ian and Teagen couldn’t participate as they didn’t have horses here.  However, they were invited to compete in the roping.  This is done on the ground.  Depending on your age you needed to rope either a calf or steer head stuck in a bale of hay.  My kids explained they didn’t know how to rope, so instructors were procured.  They even hunted up a left handed cowboy to teach Ian.  Ian and Teagen happened to be the only kids in their age group for this, so the judge declared it a tie and gave them their own brand new ropes as prizes.  They then spent most of the rest of the afternoon practicing.  Several teen boys were helpful and friendly to them, and one little 5 year old boy found it pleasant to stand around and tell them they were doing it wrong and then demonstrate better form himself.  This amused Ian, fortunately, who pointed out how cute he was.  Teagen declared him to be an annoying know-it-all, and found something else to do. 

They also had pole bending and a clover leaf pattern for barrel racing and an event called a goat hair pull. For that the younger groups lined up on foot and one at a time ran down the arena and pulled some hair out of a goat tethered down there and ran back to show the hair to the judge. (Doesn’t hurt—the goats shed). Someone held the goat still for the babies.  They were all timed.  The older two groups rode horses down, jumped off, caught the goat, threw it down and hog tied it.  Then they had to stand up and wait and see if the goat came untied.  If it stayed tied, they got their score.  If it got loose, they got a “no score”.   We enjoyed visiting with folks about their horses and kids and all in all agreed that for us it was much better than a softball game after church.

Ian and Teagen work at roping.

Ian and his instructor.  See Ian smile!

This past weekend found us back in Fredericksburg for the Pacific war reenactment at the Nimitz museum.  It rained on and off, but we had a good time and the reenactors did a fine job.  It was also Octoberfest there, but other than shopping in a church bazaar and walking around a bit, we didn’t really participate.  Instead, we ate excellent BBQ at a place outside of town, shopped for a horse trailer, and drove around town examining the architecture as they use a lot of board and batten siding which we are considering for our new house. We also had a couple of showings this weekend, so that’s good.  Fall is Fun.

These guys wore japanese uniforms and portrayed the Japanese dug into this site during the reenactment.  We didn't actually take pictures during the reenacted battle.  These were all taken before while they were showing and telling about the equipment and weapons.

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Summer ended yesterday.  I shed a few tears.  And that’s as far as I got on this blog on Sunday, September 20.  You see, that Saturday was our last day at Schlitterbahn.  I had a whole summer with my 10 year old twins and my husband to play at Schlitterbahn.  But it is closed for the season now.  We took one last float down the Raging River that runs the length of the original park and my son, who usually races ahead came last, holding my hand and drifting along.  He had given up a second trip down Hillside to be sure I could get this last ride in before closing.  This has literally been a dream come true.

John and I first discovered the riverside waterpark when we moved here in 1991, even though we had lived in Central Texas before that and in fact, met in Texas.  In those days, we were only able to afford a half day once a summer.  And those were the days of infertility when I so wanted to have children and do these things with them.

But I have NEVER failed to have a good time at Schlitterbahn.  I even went there tired, cross and frustrated a few times and felt all the stress melt away and a smile grow as I floated down the Raging River or other tube chute.  In fact, everyone smiles at Schlitterbahn.  The lifeguards are unfailingly pleasant and often joke.  They stand in the water you see, with tubes bumping into them, so it’s not a case of a person up on a high remote chair.  It’s hard work, and sometimes cold.  They rotate every 20 minutes, which helps.  They deal with fat people, rowdy teens, and crying babies all day, but will  grab your tube at the top of a water fall like slide and smile at you and ask “forward, backward, or spin?” and then launch you off the top.  They don’t have to do that.  They just have to watch you float over and be sure you don’t drown. 

But even the other guests are generally pleasant and kind.  Even an excessively tattooed and pierced young man will help a small child who has drifted away from a parent.  I think it is hard to be aloof and cross and indifferent as you jostle among others like corks in places where the eddies catch you and swirl you back upstream into the oncoming traffic.  And it is beautiful with flowers and trees hanging over the water and filling gardens. And since this is Texas, the sun sparkles on the water.  I love the long summer of blue skies and bright sun here.  Yes, it can get in the triple digits and stay there for a long time, as it did here this summer, but that is preferable to weeks of rain!

Schlitterbahn uses natural untreated, unheated river water from the Comal River, a short spring fed river in New Braunfels, Texas.  In fact, some of the rides, empty into the river and float in it for some distance.  The water is very clear and beautiful.  Teagen reports her favorite ride was the White Water Tube Chute.  Ian reports his was either “White Water, Cliff Hanger, Hillside, or Raging River Tube Chute—any one of the four major tube chutes in the original park” (though there are others that I would think are just as “major”).  John’s favorite is Cliff Hanger.  Schlitterbahn in New Braunfels is really three parks now with shuttle busses taking guests back and forth.  We prefer the old original park, though the other parts have fun rides and we have spent whole days at them as well. 

Ian in the double loop body slides.

Teagen going down the White Water Tube Chute. It's easy to flip over on the hairpin turn you can sort of see at the bottom of the picture.  On the left of the picture you see people climbing up from the bottom to ride, but the ride itself goes along the hillside, and not just down, so they are quite long rides compared to other parks with slides and chutes built on manmade platforms.

Raging River floats the length of the park and has both smooth areas like this and rapids.  I think it takes about 40 minutes. And ends up in the real river (see below).

The above two pictures are of a new ride this year, the Congo River--an update of an old rather tame float.  There is a waterfall inside the mine shaft we are headed for.  Lost my sunglasses in there when the water went over my head at the bottom while I was still on the tube.  But they were at the lost and found at the end of the day where a cheerful young attendant gave me a high five as well.

This is a good picture of my new suit by Hydro Chic.  I LOVED it!!!!  So did lots of other people.  It is comfortable and you don't feel like you are exposed.  I didn't crop this picture because I liked the contrast between my suit and the black and white one in the foreground.  I've blogged about it before, but I will point out that it is three pieces--the swim shorts that don't poof up in the water but are like bike shorts or a wet suit, but lighter weight, the modified rash guard style swim top, and a swim bra underneath that stays in place and is very comfortable.  You will notice in the pictures that we all have on t-shirts or rashies.  It keeps you from burning and from getting tube rash. The tubes will rub off even waterproof sunscreen, so at least a t-shirt is really helpful.  Teagen is wearing a rashing from Swim Outlet and Ian's is just from Wal-mart I think.  John settled for an old t-shirt.  Rash guards and swim shorts are available lots of places on line, but i liked Hydo Chics better because the tops are longer and looser than most rash guards and the design gives you a waist and hides a tummy. But it doesn't float up or interefere with swimming in anyway!  Most rash guards for women are skin tight and barely reach the belly button, even if they have long sleeves--the better to go with a teen or 20 something's bikini I think.  The only funny thing is my knee high suntan.  But as that looks fine in skirts and capri's, no problem.  And NO, I don't work for Hydro Chic or get anything for endorsing them!

Here's a picture from one of the newer sections called "Blastenhoff".  It is more like other waterparks around the country.

Ian manning one of the water guns to shoot over at the pirate's hideout where Teagen is standing in the picture above.  In fact, you can see the water hitting the sign in front of her.  The gunman aimed too low and missed!  But there are guns mounted on the hideout behind her too.  She was quite a sport to pose for that picture!  The blue water behind Ian is an artificial beach and a wave pool/river that runs around this park.  No lines and no tubes required, so we went here a lot during the middle of the summer when lines for the rides were long.  The thing in the air is a water roller coaster called Master Blaster.

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I’ll start in the middle.  That’s where this longhorn was anyway. Look like a comfortable ride?  They were about the middle of the parade yesterday in Bandera.  I love Bandera.  But perhaps I better start from the beginning.  That would be Friday night. 

Friday night we went to one of the seven major rodeos in the area this weekend.  The one we attended at the Kendall County Fair in Boerne, Texas (two towns west of us on Highway 46) had everything and much higher quality competition than we expected at such a small county fair.  The fair is almost an adjunct to the rodeo.  In fact, as we wandered through a building with vendors, a woman selling beautiful hand crafted purses asked “Are you folks here for the rodeo?”  I didn’t think Kendall county was so small she figured could spot us as strangers and I don’t have an accent here that gives me away. 

“Yes” I said and smiled, though in truth we had only learned about the rodeo at the gate.   We had really just wanted to check out the fair when we stopped. 

“My daughter’s runnin’ the barrels tonight!”  I wished her good luck, visited at bit more and moved on.   The barrel racing competition smoked!  Those girls rode really fast horses and didn’t fool around stretched out along their necks as they streaked around the course.  The kids finally got to see steer wrestling too.  They got quite in the spirit when the rodeo clown came up before hand and asked them to help with a part of his act. 

He collected a large group of kids under 12 and explained the gag and had them assemble during the ladies break away roping.  Long story short, the end of the spoof involved a pet skunk which ran around the arena with kids running in all directions too.  They also had two “mutton busting” competitions for kids under 60 lbs with cowboy boots for one winner and a cowboy hat for the other.  Finally they had a calf scramble with big “paychecks” for the winners.  Ian and Teagen did get to compete in that but didn’t win.  We got home extremely late that night, and we hadn’t even stayed for the dance.  And believe it or not, I got cold!

Nevertheless we were up around 5:30 the next morning to head to Bandera (three towns west of us on Highway 46), the self-proclaimed cowboy capital of Texas.  The cowboy mounted shooting began at 8:00.  We didn’t get there right at 8.  We had to leave the house in good shape for a showing later that morning, and we stopped to get breakfast tacos to go.  But this competition had shooters from all over the U.S. and Canada.  One top notch competitor came from British Columbia.  Had we realized, I’d have suggested Ian take his Shooting Horse Magazine to collect autographs. 

 Even though they shoot blanks, they can pop the balloons. You can see the white balloon disintigrating in the above photo that Hubby John took.  They do this as fast as they can as the event is timed.  Many wear old west costumes--some cowboy, some cavalry, etc.  Western attire is required, but it doesn't have to be old west.  Even though they had a lot of competitors from other states and provinces, they also had local competitors from Bulverde and Boerne and all around us. One of the competitors was celebrating his 71st birthday.  I also know they have divisions for "juniors", though none were run while we were there.  It looks like a family sport to me.   However, Ian the fan who reads the magazine for this sport, points out that NY will not let him shoot a hand gun even with blanks in it, so he can't compete or train for this sport in NY. The guns are real.  So I guess I have to say it could be a family sport if we stayed here or NY got real and got it's political head out of it's armpit (or where ever). 

Next we hurried up town for the parade.  The YO cattle drive (that's the brand "y"  "o" not "yo!") starts the parade.  They have timed their drive to arrive in town for the start and I'm impressed.  The long horns have VERY LONG HORNS.  I hope the cowboys can keep them under control as they move down the chaos of a parade route.  The steers swing their heads about and shove at each other.  One rises up to mount another doing loose cow stuff as they move down the street.  Here is a picture of the tail end.  John video taped the rest of it and didn't take stills til this point.

After the cattle drive came lots of equestrian groups, including the boy scouts on horses, antique cars, floats (mostly by churches and bars), a couple of bands, and some unique entries you'll just have to see.  I'll post a few examples, but I can never give you the real flavor.  And I loved that the animals did not come at the end of the parade, nor was there a poop scoop team, nor did the bands have a problem with their formations (though they did wear black shoes), nor did everyone throw gobs of candy around.  The various firetrucks and EMS did drive along at the end making lots of noise with their sirens.  The fire equipment is shorter and bigger than what I see in NY.  Texas likes Big, but it looks like off-road equipment to me--probably equipped to haul water to grass fires in canyons.

Here's the color guard, the first unit after the cattle drive.  I like this shot because you get an idea about the size of Bandera (population 950).  You can see the court house down the street.

And lest you think this was a racially exclusive event:

Nor did they discriminate against alternative mounts:

This "poodle" was popular:

And here are my ladies on their Peruvians.  I can do this with them if we stayed here. 

And notice this one is riding aside (side-saddle):

Buena Suerte and I could do this!  Eventually.  But not the trick roping below.

Even the antique cars have a Texas flair.  Many were sponsored by the Western Heritage Cowboy Church, a vary active civic group.  There's a story there for another time.

That's the Bandera posse above.

 San Antonio community band--not a high school band, but something people do even after they graduate from high school.  Imagine that.

I can't show everything we saw.  I hope this gives you a taste of the parade.  Now let me give you some of the flavor of the town.

There are permanent hitching rails all over town.  But phone poles serve as well. Of the photo above, John says "That says the whole thing.  That's Bandera."

We saw horses tied up all over as folks had come in on horse to spectate as well as those in the parade. There were organized trail groups, families and individuals riding all over town.  There were booths with arts and crafts and food in the court house square and historical stuff and entertainment in the city park including folks camping there. 

This group came from Copperas Cove Texas and put on a very good performance.  Copperas Cove is next to Killeen and part of my old stomping grounds where I met my husband.

Below is another set up in the park.  The river is behind them beyond the trees.  We had a good conversation about where they would really have set up, and this was the wrong side of the river.  But the city park was not set up with a view to pioneer encampments.  Actually learned a lot of stuff I won't reiterate here.

We ended the day by visiting the Indian encampment and pow-wow, but it was all mud and no dancing.  It hasn't rained much for two years, but it did rain about 3:30 Saturday.  We watched some more cowboy mounted shooting and a wild west show.  We did not stay for the bull riding, though it was supposed to be a big event.  Here are a couple pictures from after the rain started.  Some Indians from the pow-wow carried the flag into the arena at the start of the wild west show.  This wasn't a traveling show, but one put together with the groups that were in town.  I am impressed that the North American Indians, as most of the Native Americans here that I have met refer to themselves when they don't speak of tribe in particular, are very patriotic Americans.  I think I've blogged on this before.  But I did not see this in North Dakota among the Lakota Sioux (which is not to say they aren't patriotic--I just saw a lot more indentifying with the Sioux Nation than the USA) or the various Iroquois (especially the Mohawks) in NY (but again, my sample is small). 

 One of the trick riders above holds the record at the Calgary stampede for longevity in the sport. 

And here is a bull in the pens.  We didn't stay to see if he crippled any cowboy that night.

Tomorrow we go to Schlitterbahn Water Park to get the last dregs of fun out of our season passes.  This will be our last or next to last visit there.  What a great summer we have had! 

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Buena Suerte (Good Luck) is a green broke 4 y.o. Peruvian Paso mare/filly that I rode today.  She has lots of termino and is quite pretty IMO.  She is mid-range smooth and can trot --as well as gait of course!.  I did not try and canter her because she’s only had 90 to 120 days training and that wasn’t all at once—long story.  So the owner has had her back for two months but only rode her for the 1^st time today.  And she put her in a mechanical hackamore even though she was broke in a snaffle.   I held her head while she was tacked and while the injured owner climbed on.  She did just fine.  She even laid her head gently against me while being tacked.  Not pushy or disrespectful, just looking for comfort and contact I think.  The owner went up and down the drive, and then I got on.   She stumbled a lot with me, but her hooves are overgrown and I weigh the most she’s ever carried.  She’s only had the trainer and this one ride with the owner this afternoon before me.  Neither she nor I had ever used a hackamore before.  I called the trainer to talk about her this evening.  The trainer knew her both as a yearling and as a 4yo.  Trainer says she’s calm and good minded and has never bucked and I gathered from the conversation that she's a pretty middle grade Peruvian.  In my ride I found she does have a go button and can fly.  She’s very fast.  But since neither of us knew a thing about a mechanical hackamore, I think I’d say she was more than willing to try what I asked.  She didn’t hesitate or balk or shy. She would not let me pick up her feet, however, and she did spook when I tried to get on the first time—I swung my arm up to grab mane after positioning the stirrup with my hand.  Anyway, no helmet, no round pen, no ground work, I got up on a very green young mare in unfamiliar tack (for both of us) and stumbled and glided around the driveways.    But hard not to love.  I love a horse that quietly lays their head against you.  I mean, there was absolutely no aggression in this mare. I think she trusts people, though I imagine her shock when one climbed up on her back!  And to learn today that others will do it too!   In fact, the owner went out to get her and took a halter that was too small, so she brought her thru the pasture and other horses, out the gate and down the drive to the barn where the kids and I were standing with just a lead around her neck.  The resident stallion was across the drive from us trying to show off for her.  She didn’t even know he was alive.  Okay, so there are lots of horses available—and this one is not special in training, conformation, gait, or anything--other than being a Peruvian, that is.  I just like her.  But she would require work.  Of course, she is bay (blacks and bays, dapples and greys!) --wish she had the dapples like Monarch, my late horse, did. 

The woman also had a beautiful, just 6 mos old tomorrow, bay colt with white hind socks and a star and a gorgeous head.  I admired him so much, she offered me a great deal on him if I took him right away (he needs to be weaned).  I told her I couldn’t possibly.  John says I could and should consider it.  He just won’t get a horse here.  I don’t like that plan.  But it is a little tempting.  The kids will need horses soon and it would be fun to raise a baby.  On the one hand, this colt has not been fooled with at all.   He ran around behind his mama and peeked over her to watch me.  I'd rather he'd been handled since birth.  On the other hand, he's just a weanling at 6 mos and hasn't been spoiled or learned bad habits either.  But what do I know about training foals?  John says I can certainly learn and could try Clinton Anderson's method for ground training babies.  His mother is 23.  That seems like pretty good longevity in a breed that is not know for that.  Enough rambling. 

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Amazing how an evening at Texas 46 picks me up.  Really tired from car shopping this afternoon, I planned to make chicken fajitas when we got home.  Hubby didn’t think we had enough tortillas, he said, and pulled into the parking lot of the Texas 46.  I had a chicken fried steak sandwich and fried onion rings and a glass of wine.  Kids had tacos and John ate the chopped BBQ sandwich I’d ordered before I decided his plate was better'n mine.  The band started playing about half way through dinner.  We were sitting at the last free table which was right on the edge of the dance floor and one table back from the band.  So we had great seats to watch the dancing and the band. 

Ian finished early and ran outside to play.  I didn’t worry a bit.  In analyzing why that was, I decided that I felt no pervert would likely dare grab a boy from a place crawling with cowboys, most in the 40 to 60 age range, in a state where concealed carry is commonplace.  I like that families come there and eat and dance and kids play horse shoes or volleyball or just run around and climb on the rocks.  I like the country dance music—two stepping and waltzes.  I wish I could take a picture to share with everyone. 

The 46 is not pretty.  But as Teagen, reading over my shoulder points out, it’s not ugly and it is interesting.  Ian says it’s just a nice place to be.  Rustic Texas with life size replicas of John Wayne, George Strait, and Reba Macintyre among others; taxidermy and antlers;  arrow head collections; memorabilia; a sign that reads “No Horses Past this Point”;  old tin advertising signs; antiques; and chicken wire holding up the ceiling give you an idea of the décor.  A bar is located at one end and the stage at the other. 

We read the two competing Bulverde papers while we wait for our orders, which arrive quickly.  Actually, we only read one paper and bring the other home to complain about later.  Even Bulverde has a new liberal rag.  We read the old one.  We hear too many Californians have moved here and brought their liberal ideas with them.  I tell Texans they ought to see what moved into farm country in NY. 

Anyway, the band had a couple of guitars, a violin, a steel guitar and a drummer.  I know most of the songs even though I didn’t grow up a country and western fan.  Years living in the south and married to a man from TN resolved that, though, to be fair, Dad didn't just play Boots Randolph in the barn.  Cowboy hats fill the place.  The dancing is well done.  Some of it is showy, some simple, but everyone knows what they are doing.  Many folks know each other and visit from table to table.  School started Monday, but still there are several other kids the age of ours out tonight. 

Neither the food nor the drinks are expensive and I have another glass of wine after dinner while we enjoy the band and people watching.  People are friendly and we enjoyed a relaxing time.  The kids always have fun, and I am grateful for another pleasant evening.  What a blessing to be able to go somewhere like this where we feel relaxed, safe and comfortable. 

Car shopping in San Antonio is another story.  We’ve decided we will stick with the rural communities and smaller cities where they actually sell 4x4’s and know about towing packages and horse trailers and speak English. In Fredericksburg a dealership had 5 Expeditions and 4 were 4x4’s.  A Ford dealership in San Antonio had probably a hundred Expeditions and none of them were 4x4’s and he told us no one in Texas needs them.  We just smiled.  At another dealership, a very nice African immigrant had such a heavy accent and poor understanding of what we were after. . . .  I really was glad to go to Texas 46 tonight.  I get sick of city folks a lot faster these days.

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We went to the Blanco Cowboy Church today.  You should look it up on Google.  They have their own rodeo arena right outside the church.  One of the first questions after everyone was seated was who had won anything yesterday.  They reported one woman had won the “break away” somewhere I never heard of.  They embarrassed a tall slim man by singling him out to ask if he’d won anything and explaining that he never tells anyone when he wins.  He turned red and said he hadn’t won yesterday. 

The church building did have air conditioning, but otherwise it could have been a barn or a garage or whatever with plastic yard chairs for seating.  The front was corrugated metal with a peeled cedar log cross with a barbed wire sculpture on top that said something about Jesus.  There was a trophy saddle off to one side. 

We heard a report on the last of the clinics for kids (riding or rodeo clinics, not health).  We also learned that there will be a kids play day soon with belt buckles for prizes.  A play day is a practice rodeo for kids, not board games.  Apparently all their youth activities involve horses. 

The music was led by a family, two men in cowboy hats, one with a handle bar mustache, and a woman.  Guitars and drums.  We started out with “Put Your Hand in the Hand of the Man (from Galilee).”  Some of the songs had the words printed in the binder of songs, but most weren’t.  And none were announced.  Fortunately, I knew many of the songs from having attended Burlington Flats Baptist Church.  But the song books showed some very unique Texas songs, and country music type songs shared time with contemporary Christian. 

The sermon dealt with the importance of expectation—expecting God to do good things and rejoicing in all things and adjusting our expectations to not be negative and defeatist.  He began by announcing that this sermon was for believers, but he did take time at the end to explain what that meant and that it is by the call of God’s spirit that you receive saving faith.  I think he did a good job with that, and he did say he’s not eloquent.  He wasn’t.  But his sermon was very orthodox though he used rodeo analogies and simple language.   At first both Ian and I thought we were hearing a prosperity gospel preacher, but we were wrong.  While he did start out saying we should expect great things from God and have a positive attitude and expect to receive what we ask for in his name, he went on to explain that we need to seek first the Kingdom of God and then all these things will be added unto us.  And further, that what we need and want are not the same, and that what we think we need and want are not necessarily the things of God, but that he will give us the really good things according to his good nature if we are seeking his will.  He also talked about recently having a prayer he has prayed for 25 years answered.  We had a good conversation on the sermon on the way home.  I love that my kids really listened and could talk about it.  We even related it to the sermon we heard last week.  Yeah!

Families and a range of ages from babies to grandparents filled the congregation. Twin baby boys in overalls (one in beige and one in blue) in front of us captured a lot of my attention. People mainly wore cowboy clothing, but my blue skirt and top (think coldwater creek style) fitted in just fine.  Prayer requests included one for the men having to work out in the heat and getting sick, throwing up and/or passing out. Another man explained that his wife had had to go to “San Antone” for treatment.  He’d had a lot of trouble with the carburetor on the truck, but finally got it going and was able to take her.  He was so grateful the treatment was available and she’d been able to get it.   I felt a great deal of sympathy for these people, especially in this drought where even our big old oak trees are dying, and remembering that many ranchers don’t own their ranches and aren’t the rich oil men and stereotypes of the old “Dallas” t.v. show.

One of the last songs took me aback for a moment.  I thought they were singing “Unforgiven”.  It took me almost to the third verse to figure out they were singing  “U’m forgiven”, as in “U’m go’n t’ town.”  That is cowboy for “I’m forgiven.” 

In the parking lot as we were leaving, a man in a cowboy hat, parked next to us, closed our sliding minivan door after the kids climbed in.  I wished we didn’t have NY plates.

Earlier this week we went to the Admiral Nimitz museum in Fredericksburg, Texas.  It is now the National Museum of the Pacific War.  But it wasn’t all open.  George H.W. Bush will inaugurate the new building December 7.  But we did see lots and had a very nice time.  We may go back for a live re-enactment September 12 where they actually shoot some of the WWII weapons, including a Sherman tank.  We ate at a mediocre German restaurant and paid outrageously for the privilege.  Kids pleased me by saying I cook better German food than the restaurant did.  And we had a nice time wandering up and down the main street window shopping in all the lovely shops.  Fredericksburg sort of reminds me of Cooperstown when I was a kid and before all the baseball junk shops dominated the downtown, except much bigger.  Well, the town isn’t bigger, but it has many more charming shops.

We also stopped at a car dealership in Fredericksburg to talk about used SUV’s to haul a horse trailer.  The guy we talked to knew what we were talking about and the specific trailer we were referring to and the complications of hauling top heavy live cargo that moves about and shifts it weight at will.  Also, despite not having lots of precipitation, his customers all want 4 wheel drive as they have to go off road a lot.  Much more pleasant than one experience we had in San Antonio where the salesman seemed politically opposed to gas guzzling SUVs and pick-ups and 4 wheel drive in particular.  How dumb is that? This is still Texas. I sat in the grocery store parking lot here in Bulverde one evening this week waiting for John to pick me up.  While there, I counted vehicles driving by in the parking lot:  18 trucks or SUV’s, 5 cars (2 sports cars, one big Lincoln and 2 sedans), and 2 station wagons or minivans (one each).  Of course, in San Antonio it would be different.  And I do agree that most people don’t need 4 wheel drive where they don’t have ice and snow.  But as another dealer told us, his son wants a mini-cooper “but he’s in college of course so he thinks that way. But I told him to look at where we live and what is on the road here in Texas.  How does he think a mini-cooper will fare in an accident with a Ford F-250 or a Suburban?”

This was the last full week of Schlitterbahn, so we went as much as possible.  It will be open weekends for a while still.  The limiting factor is lifeguards.  School starts Monday.

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Here are the results of the home staging by Karen Simons of Wow-Factor Home Staging.

This last one is my doing.  I ran out Thursday evening after Karen left and bought this patio furniture set from Garden ridge pottery for $99 and the pillows were on half off clearance there too.  Ian and I stayed up until late putting the things together.  But they were in place for the decorator and realtor to approve of on Friday.  It shows that the porch is really extra living space.  I hated to spend the money, but in the end, we have really enjoyed being able to go out there for breakfast.  It overlooks the dry creek gorge and is very pleasant.  I always loved sitting out there and am glad to show this off to potential buyers.

Our realtor thinks the problem with selling may be the new bank requirements that a person have 9 months of reserves if they are buying a house and haven't sold their current house first, or something to that effect.  This makes it very difficult, with the crash in investments, for people to buy.  I know a huge amount of our money [percentage wise--not that we had a "huge" amount to begin with] evaporated, so we might not even be able to buy or build even if we had not planned on selling this house first to finance the new one.  I don't really know if I quoted the lending requirements accurately or even what our financial picture looks like, as I quit worrying about it some time ago.  Moth and rust you know.   Even though we were prudent in saving, we would have been better to have spent it and at least had something tangible to show for it or pleasant experiences in spending it.  Anyway, people don't like to sell a house if they don't have a new one.  What if the house you want to buy gets sold before you sell yours?  etc.  Sellers don't want to take contingency contracts that lock them in to a buyer who might not sell their house.  So the market here, which was the strongest in the nation, has apparently stalled for banking regulations that have been put in place because of bad behavior elsewhere.  Wonder what we will do?  What has God planned?  Clearly not what I planned. 

If you want to compare the before and after staging pics, here is the current listing on Realtor.com, which is easist to find, though not as complete as the MLS listing.  We will be changing the pictures soon however.   http://www.realtor.com/realestateandhomes-detail/781-Stoney-Ridge-Rd_Bulverde_TX_78163_1110847294 

You can also look back at any of my entries that say pictures, like "Lotsa Pictures" and "Home Repair Photo Experiment" for the really early befores.  My pictures are cutting off the archive link on this post, so just go to the Rodeo post under recent posts, and on that page choose archives to find the earlier posts.

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Cibolo Livery Stables sits way off the main drag.  We park in an old field.  Unpeeled cedar pergolas with white Christmas tree lights and picnic tables dominate the decor.  A hamburger shack, a grill shack serving t-bones or BBQ, and a cantina serving long necks (which you could get several in a galvanized pail full of ice to take with you to the stands) and margaritas (frozen strawberry or regular on the rocks) provides the food.  Several other vendors of jewelry and purses and such stuff had also set up here and there outside the arena and under the bleachers. 

               The bleachers are covered and lighted, as is the arena.  But the sides are all open and a sign reads “Uneven surfaces, slippery when wet.”  Not a big risk in this drought.  Another sign on the arena fence reads “Dangerous Livestock.”  This did not deter the even the tiniest kids in their itty bitty cowboy boots from perching on the rails.  The bleachers sit higher than the top rail, so this isn’t a problem for those who prefer to sit rather than hang during the competition.

Observing the crowd and the cowboys, I learned a lot about Western attire that isn’t reported in Horse and Rider Magazine.  Pink cowboy boots can be worn with leopard skin mini-skirts, and it works if you are three.  It doesn’t look so good at 30.  Ian and I also observed that jeans can be worn in or out of the boots if you are actually working livestock or riding bulls.  In fact, several bull riders had one jean’s leg in and one out of their boots and looked like they’d rolled around in the dirt a lot before the competition.  However, strapping on shiny metallic chaps with so much fringe glittering in the lights hides a multitude of dirt.  It also looks really impressive if you stay on the bull long enough for everyone to appreciate the swing and fling of the fringe as the bull leaps around beneath you.  Also, cowboy hats fall in the dirt a lot and hardly any of them, even in the stands, met the requirements described in Horse and Rider for appropriate and up to date Western attire. 

Before we left home, I told Ian he could wear his boots and a western shirt, but since I hadn’t been able to find any short sleeve ones, he might be more comfortable in a t-shirt and shorts.  He could still wear his hat.  At the rodeo I learned that I couldn’t find any short sleeve cowboy shirts because cowboys don’t wear short sleeve shirts.  It was 101 but they all had on jeans, boots, and long sleeve shirts.  Big belt buckles and cowboy hats I presume you know about already.  One young man strolling the grounds with a girl on his arm wore a bright turquoise shirt with turquoise trim on the hat and an antique poker card with turquoise detailing in his hat band.  Must have taken his style lessons from a peacock. 

Speaking of cocky young men, I was highly amused when a handsome young rider rode close by the rails and nodded to a couple of very pretty young women.  Then he missed his throw in the team roping and had to ride back by them.  He rode considerably farther in the arena and the girls had apparently become invisible that trip by.  The team roping was won by a team with a 10 year old as the header.  Speaking of cocky again. . . but I need to go back to the beginning. 

We arrived early and bought our supper from the BBQ shack.  We decided to eat it in the stands and got really good seats straight across from the bull chutes and crow’s nest.  A sermon was being preached by a man in cowboy attire to the spectators in the stands beside us.  He had a pretty good crowd.  Soon the drill team with five Texas flags and a US flag lined up in pairs on the right end of the arena with a tail wind flapping and cracking the flags right over their horses’ ears.  The team, both men and women, wore blue shirts with red neck scarves and the horses sported red and blue saddle pads with a white star. 

The first order of business was the invocation which the announcer gave beginning with “Heavenly Father” and ending “In Jesus Name.”  It was rather specific and comprehensive asking protection for the cowboys and girls, the livestock (named in particular, as in calves, bull, steers, and horses), the deployed military and their families, and for guidance for our country, its leadership, and its people.  Far from a perfunctory nod to the infinite!  Then the drill team ran around to patriotic music and ended up lined up with the US flag in the center and the singing of the national anthem. 

Bull riders were up first.  Only one stayed on for 8 seconds.  Several got close and it was a shame to see them come off so close to the end.  Next came team roping.  Ian whispered to me that this was more his idea of fun.  Seeing if you could get crippled or killed didn’t appeal to him.  I whispered back that I think bull riding was invented when some drunken cowboy announced he was so good, he could ride that bull.  John agreed that alcohol was probably involved in the invention of the sport.

I’ve already told you the team roping team that won had a 10 year old as the header.  The header ropes just the horns.  Getting the whole head or nose or anything else is a disqualification.  The heeler then ropes one hind leg and stretches it out to stop the clock.  The 10 year old rode out in the arena before his run to take his hat off to the crowd when he was announced.  He was really good—and so was his adult partner, who was grinning like he was his dad.  After the amazing winning run, the kid again was waving his hat to the crowd while the announcer explained he’d been riding since he was born and roping since he was 5 and they all figured he was headed for the cowboy hall of fame.  I figured he’d need a bigger hat right away.  Most of the teams missed one throw or the other, but the calf didn’t get ¼ of the way down the arena on the kid’s run.  There were women on a couple of the teams.

I think we had some kind of calf roping next.  This was an all women event where the women roped much smaller calves around the neck.  The rope was tied to the saddle horn with a thin string and had a flag at the end.  As soon as the judge saw the flag, the clock was stopped.  I liked watching the calf horses.  The rider concentrates on the rope; the horse trails the calf like a hound on a scent.  The best horses stretched out straight and twisted and turned like a snake right on the calf’s tail.  A herding dog couldn’t do better.  The winner’s horse speeded up the breaking of the string and revealing the flag by jumping back as soon as the rope landed on the calf.  In other words, instead of just waiting for the calf to run out and hit the end of the rope, the horse jumped back too, and in a sport timed to the fraction of a second, that helps a lot.

The next kind of roping event was all men and involved roping the calf, jumping off and hog tying it.  Again, the horse trailed the calf until the rider roped the calf.  As soon as they began to jump out of the saddle on the off (or right) side, the horse began backing up, often dragging the calf.  The cowboy had to pick the calf back up and throw it back down and tie three legs together.  Then he had to stand back while the horse kept the rope tight and the judges waited a certain time to see if the calf got loose.  Only one did.  Those horses were pretty impressive.

Barrel racing came in here somewhere.  I was looking forward to introducing Teagen to this sport given her propensity for speed on her pony.  I figured this would be right up her alley.  One of the very good riders was no skinny minny.  I liked that!  One of the guys behind us commented on one rider that actually did very well, that he was sure that was an inexperienced rider who was just along for the ride on a well trained barrel horse.  And indeed, she was hanging on the saddle horn and looked a little behind the action the whole time.  But her horse knew the game alright and didn’t really need her help.  She wasn’t very big, so didn’t slow him down much.  It must have been some ride as that horse really leveled out and snaked around those barrels and down the stretch.  The best riders were stretched out along their necks moving with them.  Indeed, the consensus was that as soon as the girl on the good horse learned to ride, they’d be hard to beat.  There was also a national finals barrel racer running that night—we learned that from her trailer as she was headed down the road ahead of us later.  I don’t remember who won. 

There was another round of bull riding and then the concert and dancing started and the main part of the rodeo ended.  However, there was re-ride on one bull.  He had fallen down in the chute when the gate opened. And several more rounds of roping and barrels.  Some were just exhibition rounds for practice and training.  One girl rode a horse around the barrels that looked like an English trained horse approaching the jumps.  Obviously needs more work.

Speaking of English, there was one woman in the stands that must have been from the East End of London by her accent.  There was also a welcome given to someone from France, and I don’t know what language was being spoken directly behind me for a while.  There was one black teenage boy in the stands.  He was not wearing cowboy attire.  Otherwise, the crowd was pretty much white and Hispanic.  So were the cowboys, with names like Matt Althiser or Alfredo Hinjajosa.

We watched the dancing for a bit on our way out and decided we better practice at home first.  I never could two-step very well.  They didn’t teach that in the ball room dancing classes I had in high school in New York or college in Michigan.  My Tennessee husband is pretty good at it though.

Got home around 10:30 having enjoyed the competition, the crowds, the weather, and the margaritas.  An excellent Texas summer night.

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“This black isn’t doing it for me.”  I felt bad, because I’d picked the black towels for the bathroom.  Actually, I’d picked the black towels for the second bath which was now stark white with a black and grey tub area after we’d stripped the wall paper and texturized and painted it.  The black works there and I wanted to buy enough of one color to have a nice set to take home after the house sells.  And since the shower area in the master bath also has black trim in the tile work, I picked black—beautiful fat black hotel-like towels.

               But, this was the home stager, and she’s the professional, so I said “okay, I can see why you prefer white in here.”  The other trim color on our grey tiles is white.  She’s coming back Thursday to decorate my house with fake beds, pictures, carpets, curtains, and furniture.  The patio table and chairs we are using in the breakfast nook will move to the patio.  Our air mattress beds will have to be deflated and packed in our suitcases on the days the house shows and re-inflated at night.  The fake beds will have coordinated bedding.  She was much more ruthless than our real estate agent in telling us what to move or hide.  Not that we have much here anyway.  Perfume bottles on the sink are okay, but even the pretty basket of toiletries—“move out of sight.”  We were already hiding the soap and shampoo. 

               So the house will be decorated like a model home.  This is an HGTV world.  She used to be a real estate agent before she started this business of staging homes.  She analyzed our home and others in the area in the same price range.  She thinks ours in nicer than many of them.  But she didn’t even look at houses with land!  She just looked at price in Bulverde.  Yikes!  The ones without acreage should have been way nicer.  But even at price per square foot, she thinks we are priced very competitively.  That is good news.  Everyone in the business is telling us that we are not priced wrong, but are priced at the bottom end.  But still no offers.  And no consistency in objections.  And quite a few people have really liked the home.  So, we need to make someone fall in love with it.  They need to see themselves in it and want it so badly they ignore the business in Washington and worries about the economy and buy it anyway. 

               Last Wednesday evening, I got hit with a white tornado mood.  I went to the green house to get some plants to replace the deer damage (got home after dark one evening and the deer pulled the plants out of the planter before I could get it covered), and bought tomato, cucumber, and squash plants.  Then stopped at some of the stores near by.  I came home and  sent John and the kids to Schlitterbahn water park.  I planted the garden.  Then I went back to the store and bought ceramics for the kitchen and pretty hand painted dinner plates, placemats, napkins, goblets, and bedding to match the master bath.  Then I scrubbed the counter tops and rubbed in gel-gloss, a special counter top wax like car wax.  It has to dry and then be buffed.  After the water park closed, John called, and asked if I needed flowers for a vase.  I said yes, and a variety of fruit including oranges, lemons, limes, and apples.  And a loaf of french bread from the bakery.

               These pictures don't show everything.  I got dish towels and set out a plate of apple muffins.  Anything to add back the colors we had removed with the wall paper.  It was rather fun in the store.  I grabbed up stuff and loaded the cart.  I found most of it a store that has really good discount prices rather like TJ Max, but I like it better.  I was up until 1 a.m. and then again in the morning.  And I didn’t really sleep all night.  Well, I did sleep about two hours, but I was wound!  The house showed at 11:30 Thursday.  We got one of the best responses so far in the feedback.  Even we were saying, “Do we really want to move?”  So I got on the internet and found a home staging business in San Antonio on the theory that if a little is good, a lot is better.  She’ll cost us $400 for set-up and tear down combined and $350 a month rental.  The stuff is just staging.  We can’t really use it.  But with the money we have spent renovating and repairing this house and the money we have in it anyway, this isn’t much of a gamble.  I may not like what she does.  I may have wasted the money.  But it isn’t like replacing the counter tops or flooring.  And I don’t want to be “penny wise and pound foolish.” 

               We went off to look at horse trailers in Seguin.  After we wandered about the lot sweltering in the sun among the metal trailers parked on caliche, gravel and asphalt, we went to the office and the cowboy who opened the door said the air conditioning was free and he’d take us out in a golf cart if we wanted to look around some more.  Could he not have at least yelled that out the door?  Cowboys are strange creatures.  They rarely interfere or comment on another’s plan except in some smart-ass dead-pan way after the fact.  Even this time, it just made me chuckle to myself.  I really rather like cowboys.  I didn’t see John’s face and he didn’t have much to say, so I’m not sure he’s as amused.  But we did find a trailer we liked.  We looked at both new and used trailers.  We didn’t buy one.  This was just a fact finding mission.  But the cowboy has my name and number in case he comes across anything, and now he knows what we are after and what the price range is.  We learned a lot because I asked a lot of questions.  Cowboys don’t volunteer information, but they will talk if you ask. 

               We came home and ate sandwiches in the laundry room so that I could leave the kitchen set up for the home stager to see the next morning.  This was not so bad, since we had eaten lunch out. 

               Today is rodeo day.  We will be going to see an open pro rodeo.  Every Saturday night there is BBQ, a rodeo, and a concert and dancing at the Cibolo livery stables.  That’s not in Cibolo though.  It’s here in Bulverde.  Cibolo creek runs through here.  Tejas rodeo company puts it on.  I can’t wait.

               By the way, if this house doesn’t sell, I’m resolved not to worry and be grateful for a winter in Texas instead of NY.  We’ll go drag the ponies down here and enjoy riding them all winter.  I refuse to ruin a pleasant time here worrying about not selling the house.  I mean, I’m in a beautiful house with a barn and space and in a place I love with weather I like year around.  Sure, I want to go to NY to be near family and do some real farming things, but my heart has always been torn between two places.  So I might as well relax and enjoy being here.  (Well, no, I don’t actually love NY like I do Texas, but I do want to be near family and have the opportunity to do some of the things we can do there that we can’t do here.) 

I'm editing to add a before picture of the nook.  Well, after the paper, but before the decor.  You can see a picture of it with paper on a previous post in this blog. 

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We made prickly pear marmalade one evening last week and it went better, but I burned my thumb pretty severly when I spilled the hot stuff on it while filling jars.  No funnels here, so I held the jar over the pot with one hand and laddled with the other.  Ouch!  I've never had such a bad burn.  Also, it is an ordinary marmalade color instead of that beauftiful magenta. 

Been busy with computer time in catching up on facebook and sending political messages out to folks regarding this horrid health care proposal from the Obamination and the dems.  (Thanks to a friend for that great name for the current occupant of the White House).  Also been making my emails and phone calls to DC.  Pretty sick of this stuff.  Was reading history to the kids tonight (by flashlight beside the pond), and learned that FDR tried to do some pretty socialist stuff (beyond what he got away with), but the supreme court ruled against him.  Also learned that my kids have been paying more attention to this current debate (debacle)than I thought.  They asked some pretty shrewd questions.  I was surprised.  I was just reading, not asking questions.  They were making comments and asking questions.  They grow so fast.  How grateful I am to homeschool and be sharing this with them rather than having them share it with some teacher in a government school who would probably be making plenty of comments.  We spend a lot of time talking about point of view and bias in case they should be forced into schools in the future (can you believe how much bad has happened so fast in the government already?)and because it is an important skill in all of life.  Discernment!!  I think it has to be taught. 

No offers on the house after 3 weeks and a dozen showings.  Today the realtor brought us the lists of homes that have sold and the ones still on the market for 7+ acre homes in the two counties north of SA.  We are priced near the bottom, except for two foreclosures that were really really low.  Our house is really pretty comparable to what else is listed in the price range.   Realtor is surprised we have no offers--not even low ones.  Suspects the current events/news has everyone nervous, even here where the market has been good and pretty normal heretofore.  Doesn't know what we should do but be patient.  Could put in granite counter tops.  Will get estimates on that.  So we wonder what God has in mind.  We want to go to NY.  We are tired of camping and would like to get on with building a new house and life.  Life in limbo is getting old.  Prayers on our behalf would be welcome at this point!

For the record, when Monarch died, it went through my mind, that now we had two horses and a two horse trailer.  I hoped that didn't mean God was opening the way for us to move them down here because he intended us to be here for an extended stay.  I squelched the thought as superstitious nonsense.  Mere coincidence.  Wish the thought had never occurred to me.  That's not my plan.  Funny how hard it is to trust God even when there doesn't seem to be anything else you can do.  Partly because I want to know how it's going to play out.  I don't want to know his will for today, or this hour or this minute.   I'm pretty sure he's spelled that out in the Bible--how we are to live each day.  But I want to know specifically if he's going to let me do what I want long term, and if not, why not, and what is his alternative plan?  Of course, if I did know, then I could really sin by murmuring and complaining.  Of course, I can do that without knowing too.  Want to see?

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Tonight we made prickly pear jelly.  I wanted to leave the pears (Mexicans call them tunas) on the cactus for color, but the coon had started to eat them.  He wastes a lot and leaves a mess all over the ground around the plant, which grows near the laundry room door.  So, we picked all the ripe ones and picked a recipe off the internet.  I used to have a good one I got from the Texas folk Life Festival years ago, but I don’t have it here and now.  I don’t like the one we used.  It wanted us to boil the jelly for 15 minutes after adding the sugar and powdered pectin.  Usually you only boil one minute with powdered pectin.  This reduced the jelly to three and a half 8 oz. jars.  That should crystallize by Christmas.  Well, we’ll try again when the rest get ripe.  It makes a very pretty deep magenta jelly.   John, Teagen and I like the jelly.  Ian does not.  He likes the juice, but did not like it sweetened.    Oh well, I don't like butterscotch or watermelon. 

This is my pet prickly pear cactus.    I planted it here.  I moved it here from where ever I found it because it had orange blossoms instead of plain yellow. 

  Isn't that pretty!  But it also has:  These aren't ripe yet.

Most of these are ripe.

We used leather gloves to grab them and twist them off.  Then we washed them in a sink of cold water and peeled them.

Then we boiled them and pulverized them with a hand held mixer--all I have here while we are camping out in the house. We strained them through cheese cloth and followed the recipe exactly.  Except whoever put it on the internet may not have copied it exactly.  Always a risk with this kind of recipe.  Anyway, the ingredients are the prickly pears, lime juice (see the limes?), sugar and pectin.  Sometimes prickly pear jelly doesn't set well, so I even used some not quite ripe prickly pears.  This is now so thick that the air is trapped at the bottom.  (We used the inversion method since we don't have a canner here either).  Oh well, there will be more getting ripe.

Here's a picture of the cheese cloth so you can see the color.  I love the colors of the southwest.  This is used as a die too I understand.

Speaking of pretty colors, one of my Texas sage bushes blossomed today.  This is the first time since we've been here that any of them have blossomed.  They are sporadic.  It has to be just the right humidity and a sprinkler won't do it.  I think it was that rain we got Friday.  It was in blossom when we got home from looking at the Peruvian horses. I made the kids go out and sniff it so they would understand the words from the song that says "The sage in bloom, is like perfume, [clap clap clap clap] Deep in the heart of Texas".  Here's some pictures:

These are a native plant.  I have transplanted several from where they have volunteered in the gravel and so forth in the years I have been gone.  Even in this drought and being dug bare root from shallow soil, the transplants are doing fine. 

Aren't they beautiful?  They are one of my favorite plants, so I have quite a few. I love flowering shrubs and trees.  Being native, you will notice the deer did not eat them!  When they are not in bloom they still have those silver grey fuzzy leaves.  And they are evergreen.  I used to prune them, as they can be shaped like a hedge plant, but the tenants let them grow and I have one maybe 8 foot tall now.  This is the only one in blossom right now.  They are very unpredictable, which makes the blossoms that appear rapidly with no warning even more of a treat.  They smell very sweet but are not overpowering.  You have to be near them. 

Let me show you some more local color:

This is one of my planters by the pond.  It sits where a huge rosemary plant was killed.  I cover it at night to keep the deer from eating it.

See where the wrens are building a nest in the bouganvilla?  I love bouganvilla too.  I have always kept them whenever I lived in Texas and always this color, though they come in several colors.  They take the heat and the sun.

This is my last picture for tonight.  I have mentioned the baby lizards we are finding in the house this week.  Well, here is what they will grow up to look like.  While I don't like snakes much, I love lizards on the wall.  I like to watch them.  Sitting in the sun or shade on a really hot day and watching the lizards is a time honored summer pastime in the Southwest.  They look like miniature dragons.  (Don't lecture me on dragons as a symbol for satan or the serpant in the garden--just enjoy lizards as fairy tale dragons).  This is the most common kind we have here.  I think it is a Texas Fence Lizard.  I also like the anoles with their green bodies and orange throats that they puff out.  But I have not seen any here since we've been back.  I don't like skinks--nasty black snake like things with blue tails.  We had them in VA, but I don't think we have them here.  This guy is on my front door in this picture.

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     Had a great time riding Charanga de Tejas today.  She is a “green broke” Peruvian mare according to  owner Glen Cochran, but Sallie, his wife, says that’s finished for most folks, but Glen also trains high school type work like Piaffe’s etc. along with ranch work. They also raise Andalusians and Quarter Horses.   Charanga side passes, picks up the correct lead at the canter, though it is not an elegant canter, stops on a dime at the slightest suggestion (could pitch you over her head if you were asleep), goes where you point her—would run into the fence if you didn’t stop her, motors up gravel banks and across muddy swamp areas, has worked cattle, done drill work, etc.  She knows all her gaits and does them beautifully. 

     She is smooth but not as smooth as some.  She has high leg action, so she’s showy, but that, and her strudy, more upright pasterns (like a “normal  horse” ) make her less smooth.  The sturdy leg though makes her less prone to injury and suspensory ligament problems I think.  It’s a trade off in my mind.  She is hot and startles easily, but doesn’t run off.  She had never seen children before, and mine were playing in a tree beside the arena.  She jumped two feet to the side and froze.  We walked up and looked at them and that was that.  We rode through the herd in the pasture, away from the barn by ourselves, etc.  She has perfect manners.  Ian and Teagen both rode her, and she had never even seen children.  She did great. 

     She hadn’t been ridden in a year before today—and wonder of wonders, we had a cool breeze and got rain in some areas. As I watched Glen warm her up, I wondered if I was gonna die.  I told them frankly that I hadn’t much formal training and she knew more than I did. I hoped she wasn’t more horse than I could manage. But we got along really well.  She studies to understand what you want and as soon as she figures it out, does it.  She will neck rein or work on direct rein or only leg/seat cues or any combination thereof.  After I rode a little Sallie wondered what I had been worried about and said I looked like I’d been riding my whole life.  That was nice.  Also, I could use the leg and seat cues when they told me what they were.  Also, if I did anything consistently, Charanga would take that for the cue and do it. 

     She is 8 and not affectionate, though she would be more so if she had one person she knew and worked for regularly rather than just being in the herd. But she isn’t going to be a lap dog kind of horse.

She’s a very business like horse—think of a very competent and highly paid executive secretary.  She’s that in a horse suit.  “Yes, sir, right away.  Just tell me how you prefer it.”  Said with Arrogance and Pride, but doing it impeccably, even if she thinks the boss is an idiot.  She’ll see to it the boss looks good even if he is an idiot.  And no hint of her mind will show in her professional demeanor, other than perhaps a tad more arrogance in her performance. 

     The children even rode her after we came back from a short trail ride, and she had never even seen children before.

     John says I can have her if I want—and we would probably buy a trailer rather than ship her back to NY.  But I’m concerned because she has an allergy to bugs and has to have a seasonal shot.  She had sores on her neck from this allergy.  I think it is like hot spots in dogs.  If she has a problem in dry Texas with our few biting flies/mosquitoes, what would happen to her in NY.?!   So I think she is a “No.”    I should also add that she is probably 14.3 or 15 hands, and very easy for me to get on.  Nevertheless, she is a big boned and deep bodied horse, though not a wide barrel. So there is no problem with her carrying me, and I was quite comfortable on her.  

     I also rode her half sister, a grey, who has a much smoother gait.  She is really a glide; smooth as silk, and her legs are just as sturdy, but she has less showy lift.  I didn’t really consider her although she is a beautiful horse.  She has a tendency to kick they told me, though not bad, and that worried me with kids.  And in our muddy NY, I think white and grey are not great.  She was really lovely and I probably should have given her more consideration.  She was as well, if not better, broke and actually seemed more friendly.  She would work cheerfully and act like it wasn’t really work.  But like a pretty girl who gets by on looks even if she is smart, she might be given to pouts (or the occasional kick).  She is not sweet and gentle in nature, just trained.   But she would look stunning with bright blue tack, etc.  Her mane is almost pure white now and much longer than Charanga’s. 

     Sallie did not ride today, but she did show me her side saddle collection.  Very interesting.  And we had a good conversation about it. 

     It was a very fun day.  I enjoyed the Cochran’s very much and learned a lot.  We also had a great ride through the Texas country side.  They are harvesting the corn right now and we saw cotton bolls opening up on the cotton.  It seems kind of short to be opening up already and I don’t know if that is drought or different than the cotton they grow in Alabama.  This drive was not in the hill country, so we got to see a lot more agriculture and big trees.  We ate at a local restaurant in a little town.   I was concerned about stinking of horse until two cowboys, spurs a jingling, in dusty work clothes, sat down at the table beside us.  I am having too much fun here!!

     Oh, and I need to report about Ian.  I've been having a hard time getting him to wer his cowboy boots under his pants.  I told him it is not the style anymore to wear them with the pants tucked in.  I was really bad about getting on him when I saw he was wearing tight legged jeans today and couldn't get them over the boots.  Well, I got my comeuppance.  Glen was down working a horse in the round pen when we arrived.  The horse had never been ridden.  Glen got on it.  Glen was wearing his pants tucked inside his jeans.  I forget that there are show ring fake cowboys (rhinestone cowboys) and then there are real cowboys.  Glen pulls calves when he's not breaking horses.  I guess Ian can wear his boots any way he wants to! 

    His dusty mishappen cowboy hat also looks a lot more like a real working cowboy hat than the stiff square show ring hats.  Hmmm.  And people can see that Ian's hat isn't a toy or a piece of a costume. That boy may actually grow up wearing boots and hats as real work clothes like they were intended.  I apologized, again. 

     People here like Ian.  Texans appreciate a boy in a dusty cowboy hat and boots that talks about horses and guns and trapping.  Men and women both listen very respectfully to him without the trace of a smile.  Talking slowly and rambling is just normal expected behavior.  I think we for sure better plan on sending him to Texas A & M for college. 

     Teagen wore her pink cowboy boots under her jeans.  While we were living in NY she wanted to show English.  She hasn't seen barrel racing yet.  I don't know where she's going to fall out.  She was right in there with her nose in the side saddles.  Pretty dresses and parade horses?  How many Peruvians can we afford Mom?

     If you want to see the horses, the web page is

http://www.cochran-corral.com/cms/HorsesforSale/PeruvianHorses/tabid/285/Default.aspx

Sorry about the formatting!  I've tried over and over to make the paragraphs show up on the blog site the same as I'm typing them, but they don't. 

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Just came in from finding the Summer Triangle and Cygnus.  We had to walk out to the road, which runs due east to get a look at the whole thing.  Our trees block the view on the lawn unless we are looking straight up. Deneb is a new star for us. While we were out there we reviewed finding Polaris.  The warm night breeze blows so pleasantly on us.  The grass is dry.  I love Texas at night.  ("The stars at night, are big and bright, [clap clap clap clap]- deep in the heart of Texas").  San Antonio light pollution not withstanding, the low humidity and clear skies right now make excellent viewing.  Teagen was a bit afraid, and I pointed out that day and night are no different for God, and as long as we know we aren’t on a cliff and don’t have to fear dangerous animals or people, we are just as safe at night.  But not being able to see well does strain the sense of security.  Ian says the shadows are the scary part. 

I’ve lost track of how many times the house has shown. 8 maybe? Tonight was a repeat, so that’s good.  We are eating out a lot to keep the house clean and not be in the middle of cooking a meal and have the phone ring for a short notice showing.  This will probably taper off.  I’m trying not to be nervous.

Ian decided the Presbyterian church (PCA) in New Braunfels is where he would choose to attend if we were living here full time.  He took off after church and I found him visiting with a boy his same size, sporting a number of Schlitterbahn water park bracelets just like Ian, same hair cut, same khaki shorts, different colored knit shirts.  The boy had sat near us in church and actually sang the hymns sharing the hymnal with his mother—just like another boy I know.  Interestingly, this is not a church full of homeschoolers, but is rather mixed.  Ian says he just likes the whole thing.  Someone from this church also came to our house after the first time we visited and gave us a 10 commandments plaque and friendly invitations.  I agree with Ian.  I could be very happy there.  It is a fairly large church.  I think the preaching is better at Faith Presbyterian in San Antonio, and would probably choose that one, but I like them both.  John prefers Faith.  Teagen is reserving judgment until we visit Doug Phillips church (Of Vision Forum fame). 

A note on Schlitterbahn bracelets:  apparently collecting them is a rather like collecting lift tickets on your ski jacket.   Either it is just fun, or a status symbol.  I’m not sure which.  Season pass holders get special bright metallic sparkly bracelets in a different color each day.  I’m collecting them in a drawer myself just to know how many times we went at the end of the season.  I thought about making the kids take them off, especially on Sunday, but it does give them an ice breaker for talking with other kids.

We’ve caught two baby lizards in the house so far.  I mean tiny! This one was bigger than the last one, but still not as long as my thumb. We kept this one overnight and let him go this morning.  I thought about keeping him a week or so to observe, but catching little tiny insects for him was going to be a problem.  Ants are good, but if we accidently gave it fire ants, those would kill it.

We need to add a lesser gold finch and a yellow Oriole to our bird log.  We think the Oriole was a Scott’s but they shouldn’t be this far east.  They are a west Texas bird.  It should have been a Black-headed Oriole  for this region, but we don’t think it was.  We didn’t get a picture, so we can’t be sure. I wonder if the drought (22 months now and trees are dying) is pushing them east.  Anyway, it was fun.  A first for me too.  And the lesser gold finch, while not new for me, was really fun to see just the same. 

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The house was shown today at 5:45, supposedly.  We weren’t here.  We went to Schlitterbahn, the water park, at about 4:30.  Had a good time.  The house looks great.  We still have to paint the kennel building and barn, but everything else is done.  Oh, except the dishwasher.  It broke last night.  John fixed it this morning, but it needs a part that has to do with mulching green beans and such—the disposal blade.  He took the broken one out and it runs fine without it, but we have to rinse the dishes.  And the new lock on the dog door is in need of adjustment.  It accidentally locked the dog in last night.  I awoke at 3 a.m. to barking and had to mop the floor.  Old dog likes the dog door.  Old dog needs the dog door.  I wonder if they make dog doors for the frigid north? 

Heat index here is 105 and they have some sort of level two warning.  I don’t know what that means, but the radio was urging folks to check on elderly neighbors and be sure they are hydrated, especially if they don’t have A/C or fans.  The actual temperature was only 102, but where we got that rain earlier in the week, the humidity is up. (God watered my lawn so I could have a green lawn for showing the house!) It actually felt good to me this afternoon.  I felt like I could curl up and bake comfortably for awhile.  I got in the water instead, and then I was cold and my finger hurt.  I have this little finger that has serious pain in the last joint whenever I get cold.  It feels like someone is cutting it off with a dull knife or saw, but they never finish the job. It’s a sharp, persistent pain.   It’s been hurting that way for years now and the doctors don’t know why.  I hurt it, maybe broke it, playing volleyball when I was a kid.  We didn’t do anything with it and it healed.  And now it comes back as the ghost of injuries past to haunt me when the temps are lower than my body temperature.  I’m getting skilled at tuning it out unless it is especially bad.  If it is unbearable I look for hot water to run on it and try to get warm.  Sometimes in NY that requires a hot shower.  Here, I just get in the sun.  People here used to think I was strange when I’d leave air conditioned buildings to warm up.  I have a pet peeve about air conditioning  below 75, especially in Texas.  Here 80 feels cold when it’s 102 outside.

Tonight we found a baby lizard on the ceiling.  He was almost translucent.  We could tell he wasn’t a salamander as we stood on the floor looking up at him because we could just see the stripes forming in his tail.  We got him down with the paper and cup trick, but he jumped out of the cup and onto my nightgown (my après swim attire).  So II walked out onto the porch and spent a lot of time convincing him to get off me and onto the rock wall of the house.  Apparently the rock was not a nice as my nightgown, but I finally convinced him.  Body and tail, he was maybe 1.5 inches long, maybe less.  His feet were nearly invisible.  I’d have loved to keep him as a pet if we weren’t so preoccupied.  But how would I keep him warm enough in NY?  I should have kept him for a few days here anyway.  I’ve never seen one so young.  But I don’t know what we’d feed him.  I’m sure a pet store that sells reptiles could provide us with freeze dried something or other.  Anyway, I let him go.  Then we sucked up a scorpion off the rug with the vacuum cleaner.  Then we made root beer floats and I’m the only one not in bed.  I’m going now.

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Because of the sad news about my horse, I never did report what a great weekend we had.  John got home on the evening of the 2^nd and we went downtown to get circus tickets.  The kids earned free tickets from the library reading program.  The tickets for John and me were $20.  We bought our tickets for Friday night, then went out to dinner at Los Palapas, a comfortable easy local chain.  We get a family platter of chicken fajitas all dark meat for $16 which includes the tortillas, a bowl of charro or boracho beans, and a bowl of Spanish rice.  Chips and salsa too.  And I get a really great frozen margarita (no salt) that leaves me useless for the rest of the evening, but very happy and relaxed!  Yum!

Friday we worked like mad on the house and then left early for the preshow at the circus.  We ate fast food in the car on the way there.  We parked close by in a metered parking space that quit being monitored at 6:00, so we only paid at little bit for the last few minutes before 6:00.  The walk to the Alamodome was through the urban renewal project at the train station.  The old train station is now upscale restaurants and so forth.  Low occupancy, but very pretty.  The preshow included a chance to see the animals back stage and to meet the actors, who were putting on various shows in three or four rings which we all crowded around.  The actors waded through the crowd coming and going, signed autographs and so forth.  They were smiling and cheerful.  They had also set up an area for trying on circus costumes in various sizes from child to adult.  Very fun to get so close to the actors that one could touch them.  The Chinese acrobats were very happy young men (Hubby says they smile a lot ‘cause they aren’t living in China anymore) who scared little kids by standing them in the ring and juggling those things that look like bowling pins around them.  All the acts except the animal acts selected children from ringside to participate.  Ian hid when the acrobats began picking kids. 

The actual performance was called “Over the Top” and was just the sort of extravaganza one expects from Ringling Bros. & Barnum and Bailey Circus.  I won’t describe it.  You can see previews on their web site.  They come to Binghamton in October by the way.  I will note that their rainforest piece was certainly influenced by Cirque de Soliel and was not the sort of thing I remember from childhood.  Another thing that was interesting to me is that my kids loved the clowns.  They laughed so hard that people in front of us turned discreetly to see who was having such a good time.  I have always hated clowns.  I’m better with them now than I was as a child.  They always seemed too stupid for words and embarrassing when I was a kid. I’m not a slapstick fan either.  So I was so surprised to find my children thoroughly enraptured by them.  Anyway, it was fun to see the reaction of kids who don’t see much TV, maybe one movie in a theater in their life, etc. to the “over the top” performance of a big time circus.  And it cost us less than dinner out.

Saturday, Independence Day, we worked on the house.  But in the evening we went to the San Antonio Tea Party.  It actually started at 3, but we didn’t get there until 7.  It was outdoors and triple digit temperatures.  We got there in time to here the Governor, Rick Perry, speak and sign the contract to uphold the constitution that is being circulated for politicians to sign.  He signed with a fat black marker as things are bigger in Texas and he meant the rest of the country to know where we stand.  There was a whole lot of up with Texas and down with California and the Northeast talk all evening.  I enjoyed every word.  Ian wore his cowboy hat.  He does that when he goes out and it is all him and not us.  We took our lawn chairs and set up behind a bunch of maroon Texas A & M chairs.  They had flags and banners.  We didn’t see any orange and white U of TX alums. 

We also heard Marcus Luttrell speak.  He is the lone survivor of a navy seal team wiped out in Afghanistan.  He’s a Texan.  He says he and his twin brother and most Texans wear a Texas flag on their uniforms.  But he emphasized that Texas is part of the U.S.   He also pointed out that he took an oath (as did John and I and every other person who ever served in the military) to defend the constitution against all enemies, foreign and domestic, and that it would be nice if, while soldiers are defending it from foreign enemies overseas, we’d defend it from domestic ones here.  WhooHoo!  Good hit!  We also heard Joe the Plumber.  I didn’t like him.  And a singer and a band (with fiddles).  I had an unfrozen margarita, bought t-shirts, bumper stickers, and watched a really good fireworks display.  We got home about 11:30. 

The tea party was held at a guest ranch, Rio Cibolo Ranch.  They were set up for huge crowds, which made the large crowd they did have seem small.  I found that discouraging.  However, they were up against the weather, the venue was a half hour minimum outside of San Antonio, the circus was in town, and for the first time this summer, the powers that be decided to let enough water out of Canyon Lake that people could actually tube the Guadalupe River—a wonderful event that tempted even me to skip the tea party.  Anyhow, I think our freedom is toast.  I haven’t much faith that anything can be done to stop the downward spiral, and for everyone that voted for Obama or any democrat---I TOLD YOU SO!!!!!!!  I am trying to plan what I will do when they take away our right to homeschool.  The cap and trade, the increasing taxes, nationalized health care—all that is bad, but if I have to send my kids to the government schools to be indoctrinated so they will be the kind of idiots that vote for communists and socialists, that is truly awful.  Love your enemies?  I’ll have a struggle not to hate them.  Check out Parentalrights. org  for more on the problem of the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child.  That treaty if ratified turns our domestic law over to international tribunals.  If I wanted to live that way we could have stayed in Germany!!!!!!!!!!!  By the way, I heard a man from Scotland on RC Sproul’s radio program say, apologetically, that he has observed that large numbers of American Evangelicals are looking for some pass that allows them to hate Obama.  He says he understands that, but we aren’t going to find it.  He points out that we should consider the Roman rulers of the 1^st century.  That loving stuff wasn’t written when things were nice and comfortable.  Loving enemies is radical and what we are called to do.  Hmmmm.  But how???

Sunday we went to Faith Presbyterian again and had a good sermon about the apostles getting into the boat after Jesus feeds a multitude for the second time, and arguing about bread.  Ha!  Jesus asks them how it is they are arguing about bread when he has twice fed a multitude in the wilderness.  How is it that they don’t get it?  The point was that we are the same way.  Not a lot of George Muellers out there.

We signed the listing contract with the real estate agent Monday.  They took pictures today.  The house will show for the first time at 6:30 tomorrow night.  I took a lot of pictures too.  I’ll try and post them soon. 

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Independence Day this year I learned my horse was dead.  My parents had not wanted to tell me for over a week.  As I understand the story, he was fine in the morning, and when my mother called the horses to the barn that evening, he didn’t come, and the ponies, who finally came, kept looking back to the pond.  Mom told Dad, who went to investigate.  He found Monarch dead, floating in the pond with no sign of injury, no sign of struggle or distress, no mud or churned up area on the bank.  There had been yet another thunderstorm that rolled through that afternoon and a crack so loud that my parents and neighbors were sure there was a strike somewhere near.  Monarch could possibly have dropped dead in the pond from something else, but that seems unlikely under the circumstances.  The ponies were not injured, but he probably didn’t let them drink until he was done.  He was well named, and generally treated the ponies like servants.  I am very sad as I didn’t expect I was saying good-bye forever when I left him this spring.  Anyway, he was a good horse and a real blessing and a friend.  I will miss him and I wonder why God has taken him away at this time.  I wonder in a curious manner, not in an angry manner. The timing seems peculiar to me.  But I am very grateful that there was apparently no suffering. 

Monarch was a bay gaited Morgan with a star and stripe and one white hind foot; pretty and spirited, but gentle and well trained.  He was a delight to ride as he was smooth and comfortable with various "gears".  When I first got him he had been a pasture ornament for 10 years after his first owner got married and moved away.  We had some barn sour issues the first summer as he wasn’t sure he wanted to come out of retirement or be a trail horse.  I wasn’t sure I wanted to keep him.  But after that, we became fond of each other and our communication increased until I was surprised to discover that often I would think about where I wanted to go and he would go there.  He was reading cues that slight.  Oh, we still had days we didn’t agree.  He was a very dominant horse.  But he confined his protests to jigging on the trail on those days he didn’t like my plan.  In a ring, he never made any kind of a protest whatsoever—not even to head for the gate.

When I first got him, I would park him to mount.  It was wonderful for me, as I was out of shape.  I hadn’t had a horse for 20 years, and after a couple of mounts, my legs weren’t strong enough for me to mount up without throwing myself into the saddle ker-wumpf.  Parking dropped the stirrup and his back a couple inches, and made a world of difference.  I quit doing it last year for the most part as I was worried about his back.  He was 23 I think, and I felt that it was better for him to have his feet squarely under him, and as he was right at or just a bit less than 15 hands I’d say, and I was in better shape by that time, it wasn’t a problem. 

I loved that he would come on a run when I called.  He always carried his head high and his neck arched, and would prance about in good humor in cool weather.  In hot or cold weather, he might come at a walk without fanfare, but he always came.  Occasionally, he would try and keep the ponies from coming.  But even when it wasn’t his plan, he’d just heave a big sigh and come anyway.  He didn’t, after all, ever want to be alone. 

He never kicked.  I don’t think I ever saw him kick at the ponies even, though he would bite the tar out of them.  He never bit or nipped at people, and I did feed treats by hand at irregular intervals.  He once tried to follow me through a door into the area where I kept the feed and tack.  I told him “NO” and he backed right out.  Not only that, but he never tried it again, and for a long time he would stop the ponies as well. 

Other than that first summer, he was a good help with the ponies and kids on the trail.  He preferred to move out on the trail, as do most gaited horses, even if he wasn’t gaiting.  But he’d go so far and stop and look back for the ponies.  He would also walk slowly and keep with them if I insisted.  Several times, he got me in position to grab the reins of a spooked pony or blocked the path intentionally, swinging sideways in front of the pony to stop him.  (Cookie, my sons pony, was just a colt, and spooked easily at first).  I couldn’t focus on Monarch at such times, but he was helpful rather than looking at it as an opportunity to misbehave himself.  Being a dominant enforcer kind of horse anyway (he even dominated an old mare we had for a while who had a reputation for being dominant), I think he preferred to boss the ponies this way, even on the trails. 

Because he was such an old pro in the ring, I planned for the kids to take lessons on him this year, or next since we are so long in Texas now.  Teagen was especially looking forward to riding him, as she is tall enough now, and would enjoy riding something not so stubborn.  (Her pony, Zeke, is good natured, but she has to ride with a crop as he gets stuck under apple trees or in one gear).  Monarch was affectionate toward her and she insisted he would prefer to have her ride him, which was probably true at this point as he was getting older and I wasn’t getting smaller.  He was better at reading leg and seat cues, than I was at giving them, so it would have been a good experience for them.  Teagen also planned to show him—a job he knows very well and I suspect he would have loved doing with a light young rider.  He would have been very careful of her.  His pride would have required that he make them both look good for a crowd.  We are sad we won’t get that opportunity now.

Monarch was not sure footed on the trail. Age and having spent most of his life as a show horse or in a pasture were to blame I suppose.  He and I both took a couple of spills.  Once we hit a woodchuck hole on the canter.  That wasn’t his fault and had nothing to do with being sure-footed or not. The grass had grown up and we were off the usual trail a bit.  I saw the hole while we were in suspension and prayed his foot wouldn’t come down in it like I feared.  It did.  The next thing I knew I was watching him finish his fall and roll onto his side.  Somehow I was clear and turned toward him before he hit. I don’t know if I jumped or was thrown off.   He rolled up and we looked at each other on the ground.  Then I got up so he got up.  I checked him out and he was fine, but we both walked home and put liniment on. 

He had his favorite trails.  He would suggest them by trying to turn on to them, and not being a strict disciplinarian, I would occasionally indulge him by letting him choose the trails as long as it wasn’t an excuse to turn and go home.  He loved the trail through the Beatty Woods, an area of hemlocks, moss and ferns along a small gorge.  He liked to throw his feet high going down that trail and race along it when we were by ourselves.  I never saw the point.  It was a dead end most of the year and he went over it so fast.  But it had soft ground, was relatively level, and shady.  He always wanted to go there.

He also liked to go directly to my neighbor/cousin’s barn to meet our riding buddies.  He had a road gear especially for that kind of trip.  It was a high speed single foot.  When we were alone, he would still want to stop and check the barn, although he could see the horses were in the pasture.  It always irritated him to see them in the pasture if we were out for a ride.  He’d flick his ears about at them, go to the barn, look in, then stare at them in the pasture.  Occasionally he’d call out.  Then we’d go on for our ride, but it would be a while before he’d be in an agreeable mood again.

I liked long rides by ourselves the best.  We focused on each other and got in sync that way.  Not that I would ever turn down an opportunity to ride with others.  We both liked that and he was good in groups.  He preferred to go up front, but could go anywhere.  He would only get impatient behind very slow horses, but since I did too, I can’t blame him.  I was probably communicating that.  He could go whatever the group did and didn’t get upset if the group was ramming and jamming or just toodling along, although walk was his least favorite gait.  He didn’t spook easily.  He might look hard at a man made object that suddenly appeared on the trail where there hadn’t been anything before.  But even a flock of turkey poults or grouse flying up under his nose didn’t ruffle him.  With the man-made monsters, I’d just get off and lead him to it.  He’d follow me alright.  It would eat me first and he could run away I guess.  Anyway, when he’d see what it was, I’d tease him and call him silly.  He sometimes even looked like he felt foolish.  Then he’d refuse to notice it again. 

He was a good match for me.  He was a good horse for me to get back into riding with. He restored much of my confidence and skill.   I loved his arrogance and attitude.  But I also loved his intelligence and knowledge.  He was well trained, and would work for me.  He was affectionate and perceptive.  He was a pretty horse, especially in the summer when his deep red coat would have black dapples.  He had pretty little ears and a small head.  Even at his age, he liked to show off.  I will miss him.  He was a good friend and companion.  He was my horse.

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Raving about the swim suit again.  I got stopped and asked about my suit this afternoon at Schlitterbahn.  Now when was the last time someone stopped me to say they loved my suit?  I don’t think ever.  The lady was about my age and a bit apologetic for stopping me, but loved the suit and wanted to know if it had a bra or I had to wear a swim top under it.  I told her it has a separate swim bra that is great and laughed and told her to check out Hydrochic on line and that I loved the suit myself.  She spent a moment to tell me how hard it is to find suits that have support, coverage, and don’t look frumpy.  I forget the word she used.  Then on the first ride one of the life guards asked me if I was a surfer.  I had to ask him to repeat the question.  I thought I must have misunderstood.  When I understood, I laughed and told him no.

 “Then why the full body glove?” (Body Glove is a brand of rash guard) 

“Ahh!  Sun protection mostly, but also at my age bikinis don’t make it.” 

He laughed and asked if I liked his tan.  He was a very dark African American.  Funny boy!  I told him it was lovely.  He splashed my kids.  We are getting to know some of the lifeguards, but they are really a great bunch of kids as I’ve said before. 

Had a wonderful time there.  Chatted with another mom who is a season pass holder and only comes in the evening like we do unless they have guests.  I feel like I’m on some sort of exotic vacation.  We went to the library about 4:30 today and got free tickets to the circus as part of the kids’ summer reading program (one of the prizes for reading so many hours).  Then we grabbed some to go food at Wendy’s and cruised on down to the water park.  After a couple hours, we are tired and take this beautiful drive home through the hill country, warm and golden, spotted with live oaks, and with the usual big red sunset lighting the cliffs.  In a pasture beside the road we saw a picture perfect buck, doe and spotted fawn all walking together in a line.  I thought that only happened in stories.  In real life I thought the bucks were on their own ‘til fall.  Then we have this lovely home to stay in.  It is now like new—and in truth it is only 14 years old anyway.  We made banana splits.  The kids went to bed and I’m here on the computer.  John comes home tomorrow.  Yeah!

What work did I do today?  Painted the last of the interior doors and the grilles that go on the French doors.

Panicking about getting the house on the market is foolish.  We are doing the best we can as fast as we reasonably can, and I’m getting all this time to enjoy Texas and share it with my kids.  God has a plan and my worry is not only not changing anything, it could spoil the blessing I have.   I am so peaceful and happy today.  Why are we so blessed?  I could worry about that, but not tonight.

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