Best Laid Plans . . . .

I guess today's post will focus on a reflection of what might of been and what really was. 

What might have been:  I would be up and at' em with a cup of coffee while Bill and my sisters would probably still be snoozing.  I'd be sitting at my laptop writing my blog post for today. 

The entry might include a picture or two, maybe not.  

After all, we would not have landed in Arizona until after sunset, and we would be in a big hurry to get our rental car so we could drive quickly to the nearby airport Best Western to watch the ZAGS-Dons game in the hotel restaurant which kinda doubles as a sports bar. 

The staff let my sisters and me do just that last year when the ZAGS played Southern Methodist and lost.  So, we definitely had a plan---this time with Bill along as our sisters' trip chauffeur---to scurry toward those TVs and possibly catch the second half of last night's game.

Well, we caught the full game where Gonzaga started slowly but won "bigly," but that has to do with what really was, so I'll save that. 

This morning in the what was to be, as I do every morning when I travel, I would be focused on getting my blog finished and published earlier than usual so we could get on our way.

Our "way" today would have involved a road trip heading south to Tucson and then on to Tombstone.   We would have basked in the sunshine and SO enjoyed walking on bare ground like old folks with stiff joints but not like really really old folks like we've had to do over the past several weeks.  

Tomorrow we would enjoy a more relaxing day indulging in our annual excuse to go south in February, the Scottsdale Arabian Show.  Barbara and Laurie would find their perches for the trail  and dressage classes, respectively, and I would be awaiting a call or even a sighting of my dear longtime friend Susie/Sky Baldwin.

She and her friend have gone from the Schmid Ranch above Telluride, Colo., to Arizona for the rest of the month to ride horses in the desert. I'm jealous.  

Anyway, she had agreed to meet me at the horse show where we would jabber for a few hours. Later in the day, we planned to go to the Superstition Mountains to catch some Arizona sunsets. 

And, Sunday, the Prescott-Wickenberg loop with lots of stops to enjoy walking and basking in sunshine, of course. 

Then, we would board our flight Monday morning and be back to Sandpoint and our respective homes by late afternoon, knowing that all was well thanks to Angela at my sisters' and Elisabeth at the Lovestead.  Both are friends who do a wonderful job allowing folks to go away and not worry about all the critters. 

Twould have been a great weekend, but early, early yesterday morning when I received a call from my sister Barbara informing me that their entire barn had flooded---every stall--with about five inches of water, hopes for the great adventure began to dim.

The situation darkened when I went to my barn and found about four inches of water in the south end of Lily's stall. Still thinking there was hope that some of us might still be able to go, I began to bail water.  

Seven cartloads later, when I still had at least another three cartloads left to bail (I think the water was replenishing itself every time I would go outside to dump), I went to the house to check on the latest situation at Colburn.  Laurie had decided to stay home but Barbara was still hoping to go. 

Eventually, when it was clear that I was never gonna get Lily's stall lake to please go away, Bill and I decided that we'd better stay home.  We both had heard the Peter at the dike story as children, and its message had become reality everywhere we looked.  

No way would we put Elisabeth through the almost insurmountable challenges at the Lovestead over the next few days.  

At one weak moment, we waivered ever so briefly, thinking we could pull it off, but that thought faded quickly. 

So, instead of desert sunshine and cacti and pretty horses all sleek and slick, we looked at fog and felt the never ending rain every time we went outside to slide our way over wet ice to the barn. 

Weeks of planning for this trip were washed away, and, yes, we were disheartened, to say the least, especially when we learned that the insurance purchased for our airline tickets had fine-print facts which did not include flooded barns as an excuse to cancel the trip and get a refund.  Who woulda thunk?

And, this flooding caught us all by surprise.  We knew we were leaving winter behind, but never dreamed that the combination of rain, four feet of snow and warm weather would blend so quickly for such a calamity. 

Two bright spots in the day:  one was Rona from the Philippines who worked with Orbitz to try to salvage some benefits for our canceled trip worked for at least 90 minutes, checking with me every so often as I held the line.  She did her best and found information for us to pursue the situation even further. 

The other bright spot came when we DID get to watch the ZAGS game in its entirety.  No hurrying with the rental car or rushing into a restaurant begging to watch a certain channel.  Bill and I watched after dining on treats from Pack River General Store (their chicken lasagna with bacon, onions and gouda cheese is yum yum as are their mint brownies).  

Meanwhile, my sisters planned to fry up some hamburgers at their home and watch the game.  

In short, nothing can lift the spirits on a bad day quite like another Gonzaga win.  A slow start but another convincing victory with a 35-point spread.  27-0, still No. 1.  Love it!

With the way our day began, this was a much welcomed contrast.  And, this morning after Lily spent her first night in her brand new, dry stall which I'll dub the "maternity ward," and with no rain, it's looking to be a good day. 

We won't be seeing cacti or gunfights at the OK Corral, but we roll with the punches, and I can tell you there are a lot of punches when living on a farm during a North Idaho winter. 

Some days are raindrops, some days are dust. 

Happy Friday.