Thursday This and That

Laurie and Mani:  photo by Barbara Tibbs at their fairgrounds exhibition two years ago. 

FIRST class at Nationals, second rider among 22 contestants in a dressage test, then a wait of nearly five hours, finally FIRST class at Nationals, FIRST place and NATIONAL CHAMPION.  

The numbers added up and the stars stayed in perfect alignment for my sister Laurie and her big black bay gelding Mani yesterday. 

Twas truly a great start, for this team, to several days of competing in various disciplines at the Arabian National Sport Horse Show in Nampa, Idaho.

From what I've heard, some confusion reigned during her second class, an evening event where she would compete with several other contestants all at the same time in a rail class.

She did----only it was the wrong class. 

My sister Barbara jokingly surmised that maybe one national championship in one day was enough.  

And, there's more to come Friday and Saturday.  

Stay tuned. 

Laurie and Mani did very well at Nationals two years ago, winning championships and Top Tens, which constituted to a whole lot of loot.

This success is all a testament to lifetime dreams, hard work and years of practice to realize those dreams.  That's the formula. Both of my sisters have followed it to the letter as they've chased their dreams with their four-legged friends.  

While they and other family members have chased and seized their dreams, the rest of the family continue to marvel, cheer and feel great pride, knowing that their loved ones have done it the old-fashioned way---hard work and perseverance.

Good luck to Laurie for the rest of the show. 

On another note, it's a bittersweet day of sorts, as a huge flock of admirers say good bye to a beloved priest.   Today is the funeral for the Monsignor or Fr. O'Donovan, as I've always preferred to call him.

It will be bittersweet in that this man of God lived a good long life but the occasion will be sad, knowing that we will no longer hear the jokes or answer the questions about how family members are doing. 

Such a sweet man, and such an example as a priest.  

I've seen similar comments several times since Fr. O'Donovan passed away last week. 

His legacy?  

I'm betting that virtually everyone who knew Fr. O'Donovan over the years has taken away a clear message from their interactions with him:  treat people with kindness, with respect, with sincere interest and with love.

If we can all do our best to remember that example for the rest of the days of our lives, I'm sure the gentle priest---with all those names---will be smiling in Heaven and exulting that his time on earth made a lasting difference in so many lives around him. 

Finally, on this Thursday, I must report a noisy, noisy night in the neighborhood.  

Taylors weaned their calves yesterday.  

We've been hearing about it ever since, from moms and babies who sorely miss each other. 

Add to that a bunch of irritated coyotes.  Just after 1 a.m. I awakened to the loudest and most shrill cacophony ever.  

Must be the coyotes got tired of hearing the cows and calves bawl, so they called out the reserves and set up a coyote choir.

Imagine high-pitched coyote yelps, strategically placed around the area, blending with sad but loud lamentations coming from separated bovines.  

I wish I'd had a way to tape the noise as it was like nothing I've ever heard before. 

With daylight, the coyotes have gone home to wherever coyotes hang out in the day, but the cows are still protesting.  

Usually either laryngitis sets in or they finally give up when the second day of separation rolls around.

So, I'm figuring our usually quiet, serene Selle will be alive with the sounds of sad cows for a while. 

All a part of the seasons of life, I guess.  Those seasons bring with them a potpourri of joy, sadness and frustration.  Today is no exception. 

Happy Thursday.