Tuesday Mutterings

 

Jon Stewart Reflects on White House Correspondents’ Dinner: ‘Like Most Things in America, It Was Interrupted By Gunfire’

~Chew upon that observation.~

Soon to turn into blueberries. 

I have become a fan of Darrell Kerby, former longtime mayor of Bonners Ferry and fellow ZAGS lover, and his thoughtful Facebook posts.  

Always beautifully written, they offer knowledge, wisdom and helpful perspective. 

Darrell Kerby

 

Darrell, his wife and another couple, all lifelong friends from Boundary County, are on a month-long trip which has included two weeks in Ireland and two weeks in Scotland. 

I have never been to Scotland---have only seen it in the distance across the water from Ireland, but Darrell's observations make the country a tempting destination. 

Hope you enjoy his thoughts below and his carefully crafted use of the language as much as I did. 

~~~~~

Today we make our way to Fort William for a three‑night stay at Inverlochy Castle—our final base in the Highlands before we close out Scotland with an overnight at the storied Caledonian in Edinburgh.

The great cathedrals and castles of Europe did not pass Ireland and Scotland by. Their landscapes are marked by fortresses, tower houses, and grand estates—some ruined, some restored, many still standing with a kind of stubborn dignity.

After the catastrophic defeat of the Highland clans at Culloden and the deliberate dismantling of the clan system, many strongholds were destroyed or abandoned under the authority of the Hanoverian crown.

Yet Scotland, resilient as ever, still holds hundreds of castles: some rebuilt, some reimagined, some preserved as they were found. 

The country does not lack for stone, memory, or pride. Inverlochy Castle, where we will settle for the next three nights, is one of Scotland’s most atmospheric retreats.

 Queen Victoria visited in 1873 and wrote, “I never saw a lovelier or more romantic spot.” 

The castle sits beneath the shadow of Ben Nevis, (the highest mountain in the United Kingdom) surrounded by quiet lochs, ancient woodland, and the kind of Highland stillness that feels almost ceremonial.

Inside, it is all polished wood, soft carpets, and the gentle hush of a house that has seen centuries of private conversations. It is a place that invites reflection—whether you want it to or not.

And reflection is beginning to arrive. After nearly a month across Ireland and Scotland, we can feel the first flicker of homeward thoughts: family, responsibilities, the familiar rhythms waiting for us.

But I suspect Inverlochy will hold those thoughts at bay for a little while. Places like this have a way of occupying the mind fully, insisting that you stay present.

As we near the end of this journey, I find myself thinking about what travel actually does to us. It rearranges our sense of scale.

It reminds us that history is not an abstraction but a landscape you can walk across. It shows how cultures endure, adapt, and reinterpret themselves. And it reveals, again and again, that the world is both larger and more intimate than we imagine.

Ireland gave us warmth, story, and a sense of welcome that felt almost ancestral. Scotland has given us depth, shadow, resilience, and a kind of quiet beauty that works its way under the skin.

Together they have offered a month of learning, laughter, and the kind of shared experience that becomes part of a family’s internal mythology.

We’re not finished yet—but we can feel the arc bending toward home. For now, though, Inverlochy Castle awaits, and I have a feeling it will command our full attention.

  

All of the above and in the photo below spent their first night outside last night. 

All of the above and below did just fine. 

Since they had been in the house, I draped a sheet over the tomatoes and the geranium, but I think they would have survived the night even without the sheet. 

We have a week's worth of warm weather ahead, so it feels safe to put a few things in the ground.  

In addition, the tree blossoming was just beginning when we had some really cold nights.  Blossoms are still appearing, and from what I can see with the apple trees (even the new one), they're loaded with blossoms. 

Maybe---just maybe---we'll have a good fruit year.

That would be nice. 

 

It's a pretty scene that will never be the same. 

After the Fourth of July activities here at the Lovestead, these four poplars just south of the house and some others will be taken down. 

They are dying, and sloughing away, with big strips of bark and limbs constantly falling to the ground. Also, at least one limb did some damage to our roof last December during a wind storm. 

It's sad to see them go, especially with this annual springtime scene.  If all goes well, the periwinkle patch may be saved and I've asked that the stumps be left, maybe in different heights for some landscaping possibilities. 

Our little trooper. 

Foster can't safely do a lot of things any more because of his blindness and poor hearing, but he makes the most of each day, especially at meal time. 

He loves being under my feet whenever I work in the kitchen because that means there might be a handout.

He's the most polite begging dog I've ever seen as he picks Bill as his target each evening for some free bites.  That, of course, is after I have fed him. 

For as little as he is, that boy has an appetite. 

Outside, he either goes for walks with me two or three times a day or stays tethered to a long rope which offers him space for sniffing around and safety from any potential problems. 

And, of course, like any good dog, he sleeps. 

I really admire this cute little guy. 

Giddy Up Monday

 

Until yesterday, I had not loped/cantered a horse for 15 years. 

The last lope was an unwanted one. 

Annie and I were in Ireland, and she had made reservations for us to ride horses on the Atlantic Ocean shore near Tralee. 

That's where we met our friend Cass whom we have seen several times since on our trips to Ireland. 

Cass lined us up with horses and guides and then the horses were loaded up in a lorrie and taken to a start up spot near the ocean.  

My horse's name was Legalos, and Legalos ONLY wanted to canter down that ocean shore. 

Legalos did not have brakes in his mouth.  Apparently, it was calloused over from many years of people trying to get Legalos to just walk. 

Well, the romance of galloping down an ocean shore or anywhere for that matter had left my mind long before we traveled to Ireland. 

I was an old lady (even back then) and I did not want to gallop.  A walk would do just fine, and I made that clear to my guide.  

Annie and her horse Monster got along fine because, unlike her mother, she wanted to gallop. 

Legalos went into high gear almost immediately.  I will give him credit that he knew better than to race. He was satisfied with galloping a slow and easy speed, but I wasn't. 

As we moved along, my guide would try to convince him to go into a lower gear.  

"Legalos, stop," she would utter in her soft, almost whispered voice.  

I don't think Legalos had hearing aids, so he just kept on going. 

Fortunately, I had ridden enough to stay in the saddle, so I was relatively safe but still unhappy with this mount. 

Later, I tried a technique often used with young horses if they get out of control-----turn them a different direction and they have to slow their gait. 

That's when I learned that, in addition to no hearing aid and no brakes, Legalos did NOT have power steering.  Not even close. 

Try as I might, I could not budge that head and neck to turn. 

So, I weathered the storm and breathed a sigh of relief when we left the shore and Legalos quit galloping and walked on the streets through a small village overlooking the ocean. 

Fast forward to 2026 at my sisters' arena where she and I would get the final lesson from Monty, the trainer, on how to run the controls on CB.

Happily, CB can hear.  He does have brakes and he turns with leg pressure. 

So, Laurie took her lesson and worked him both ways of the arena at a walk, jog and lope. 

Then, it was my turn.  Monty reviewed how to use my hands and legs, and we had a good time walking and trotting both ways in the arena. 

Monty also asked me to back CB, which I did.  

He also has the reverse gear too! 

During our workout, Monty gave me some tips on how to distract a horse from something scary.  There was a spot in the arena where, with each pass, CB acted like the bogey man was hiding in the bushes. 

So, I was told to turn his head slightly inward, which gets his attention and move forward.  The trick worked well, so I tried it a few times until suddenly it felt like CB was trying to do a little crow hopping with me. 

No, CB wasn't being bad, I was told.  He was doing exactly what my leg pressure and rein work was telling him to do AND that was to lope. 

His loping didn't last long--just a few steps---so I was happy but unaware of the fact that I had unwittingly told him to lope.

We were about to wrap up when Laurie said, "I think you should lope him." 

To which I immediately cringed, thinking there was no way I was gonna do that. 

Laurie gave me a look and said, "You've already loped him; why don't you do it again knowing that you are actually telling him to lope? 

Monty chimed in and said, "Then, you'll know what NOT to do if you don't want him to lope."

I could sense that it was going to be a major disappointment to my youngest sister if I did not "buckle up, Buttercup," and face the mental challenge. 

And, that's what it is.  

I can easily convince myself these days that so many activities which I used to take for granted and just plunge in regardless of the consequences are not wise when you're pushing 80. 

"Myself" never argues with those decisions, and so far I'm still standing and walking but NOT LOPING.

Well, when you have your sister and your trainer standing and staring back at your cowardly self, you cave and just do it. 

Last words from Laurie before Monty walked alongside me and guided me into the lope were "You can stop after four steps if you want." 

Thanks, Laurie, I thought . . . Monty already has cautioned me that CB knows "Whoa" really well. 

I decided not to go with that scenario.  

When CB transitioned into his lope, I felt a surge of rolling power like I've never felt before. 

He has a powerful but smooth lope.  It takes some getting used to, but I stuck with it for a couple of rounds and then brought him effortlessly down into a trot. 

My body was not quite ready for that, but I'm thinking if I could subtract maybe 20 years, I'd love learning to lope again. 

So, we loped for the first time since Legalos.  I may try it again some day, but for now, I'm thrilled that my little stocking-legged baby has turned into a gorgeous, reliable and willing horse that looks beautiful when he performs. 

This chapter of boot camp for CB has ended, and I'm hoping to get back to my "riding by committee" evenings this summer where Bill sees that I climb aboard, ride around the place for a few minutes and then climb off safely. 

There's no better feeling than having a horse that you can trust, and it's all because people I trust have helped CB and me to get to this point. 

Priceless. 

Many thanks to the "committee." 

And, finally, yes, because of this experience I feel giddy and upbeat on this Monday. 

 

This year Shelby is riding one of Laurie's horses Persi.  She took a lesson yesterday, during which we got to meet her grandparents.  

Dave and Andrea Kramer from Naples are wonderful people. I think the folks in Boundary County would agree. 

Pache stood at one end of the arena while Dusty stood at the other while Laurie, Barbara, Shelby and I took lessons from Monty Collison yesterday. 

Both of these geldings have won National Championships in Western dressage and trail classes, so I think they were doing a little sidewalk supervising. 

I loved meeting Dave and his wife Andrea yesterday, as did Chrome. 

Sunday Miscellany

 

 

It's another cold April morning, but I've been scooting around quickly, not only to get through my morning chores but also to keep warm. 

I'll be glad when the extra layers needed each morning can remain hanging on their hooks for a few months. 

For now, it's still "zip up to your chin" and "don't forget the gloves" kind of mornings.  

Today we'll haul CB over to my sisters' place.  We'll saddle him up, and Laurie will take a wrap-up lesson from Monty, the trainer.  The purpose of this lesson is to figure out all the controls he has learned over the last month. 

Then, I'll probably ride him for a while.  It should be fun and satisfying because Monty does a thorough job with his training of both horse and rider. 

On another note, I settled in to watch the White House Correspondents' dinner last night, anxious to hear the zingers and to see any drama that might unfold. 

Well, the drama unfolded suddenly, and the zingers have to rest for a while. 

It was pretty bizarre watching the top journalists in the country figuring out ways to do their craft without access to their usual technical equipment. 

I realized later that the hotel where that unforeseen chaos happened was the same one which hosted a National High School Journalism Convention which I attended back in the early 1990s while advising the Cedar Post. 

Much quieter scene then. 

Baby red maple leaves have a rather distinctive look. I've noticed them spreading their wings the past couple of days. 

Salad:  above and below.  

Some tomato plants have remained in the house because I ran out of room in the green house. 

This transplanted Romaine lettuce can be eaten any time, but the cukes have a ways to go.  

I always plant them last in the spring so their vines don't spread all over the greenhouse. 

Happily, all the salad makings look pretty healthy so far. 

Pastor Lorraine Davis, the author of the book below, gave the dinner blessing at our Sandpoint High Class of 1965 reunion at Western Pleasure Guest Ranch last fall. 

I sat next to Lorraine in Mrs. Mary Parker's senior English class more than 60 years ago. Little did we know then that eventually we'd each become an author!

Lorraine grew up south of Sandpoint. She was part of the group of Southside School classmates who came to school in town after the eighth grade. 

We've seen each other over the years at class reunions, and it's always been a pleasant experience.

This morning I received a text informing me of the book's availability at Amazon. 

So, I'll check it out, and I hope anyone who feels inspired by Lorraine's summary below does the same. 

Congratulations, Lorraine.  

Good luck with the book. 

by Lorraine Davis

We all have Enemies within and Without in our soul. Many times, we have no idea how to confront or challenge their existence in our lives. 

This book, with the help of the Holy Spirit and the Word of God, reveals to any believer how to conquer these enemies with biblical instruction and guided prayers. 

Every believer can live a life without rejection, shame, or fear. 

A believer's greatest gift is choice. 

You can choose to take the challenge to live a life of grace and peace in a personal relationship with Yeshua.

Tradition is challenged, but so is freedom from the assault of the real enemy. 

 Knowing the enemy is the first step to healing and wholesome relationships with friends, family, and the Messiah. 

A believer, who hungers and thirsts for better relationships, needs the truth this book holds.

It's the time of the year when Bill and I most love having Border Collies----the grass is at its greenest and the dogs strike a stunning contrast to the green.

Looks like a pretty day ahead. 

Happy Sunday. 

 

Saturday Slight

 

Idaho may have enacted a law about flying flags other than the state or US flag, but it's quite okay with the cows of Kenmare, Ireland,  to promote the Kansas University flag right in front of the ice cream store. 

Willie and Debbie's friend,  fellow basketball lover and coach John Adams (above) accepted the flag from a friend of a friend and it will go to another friend's house in Kenmare.

Lots of scoops of friendship involved in this project.   

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

Today I proposed to my friend Marcia that we lobby for Sandpoint, Idaho, and Kenmare, Ireland, to become sister cities.  

She seconded the motion from wherever she happens to be in Ireland this morning. 

Over the years, it's gotten to the point that folks whom we (Marcia and the Love's) each know from Sandpoint or Kenmare know each other. 

I know Sean Finnegan, Marcia's friend who retired a couple of years ago as owner of a jewelry store in Kenmare.  

Sean and his late wife (Marcia's friend) traveled to Sandpoint to visit with Marcia a few years ago.

  Sean is pictured below with Marcia. A day or so ago, Sean got together with Willie and Debbie's friend John Adams. 

He handed over a flag from Kansas University, sent to me by my friend Jean, a proud KU grad who lives in Palm Springs. 

Debbie passed on the flag and some Sandpoint High T-shirts to Marcia who took them to Ireland and gave them to Sean who gave them to John.  

Sometime soon John will take the flag to a house in Kenmare owned by a couple who graduated from Kansas University and who have decorated their Kenmare home with Kansas University memorabilia. 

Willie and Debbie stayed in the house last fall when Willie put on a basketball clinic for John's Kenmare Kestrals. 

Marcia's friends and neighbors, Howard and Coni Shay, also Bonner Community Food Bank volunteers, are currently involved in a Ring of Kerry walk which goes through Sean's property. 

When they walked on to the property recently, Sean greeted them by name.

Marcia and the Loves know and enjoy a few other residents of Kenmare.  In addition, Marcia and the Love's love Kenmare. 

So, we may just have to look into the possibility of Sandpoint and Kenmare teaming up as sister cities. 

For now, it's great fun exchanging wonderful and fun friendship experiences between peeps in our two communities.   

Sean Finnegan, Coni and Howard Shay.

Mr. CB has adjusted well to being back home.  He left in October for Roxane's stables and then spent the last month at a stable in Stateline, so it's been a while since he ate breakfast in his own barnyard. 

Lots of lawnmowing ahead today.  

The grass is growing quickly, which means mowing and soon walking horses back and forth to pasture.

Busy and beautiful times. 

Happy Saturday.