Reclaiming Some Joy

After a week such as the one we have experienced, finding the fun again has been challenging. 

It has been difficult to walk anywhere on this place from dawn to dusk without constant reminders of the joy we lost with Kea's death last Saturday.

Seems we're always expected to just "move on" past such unfortunate events, but it doesn't exactly work that way.  

It's impossible to dodge grief.  

It takes time, and often in its midst, outside forces interrupt the process of our private emotions, requiring us to maintain a happy face as we attempt to disguise our sorrow. 

That's probably a good thing.

The horseback ride with my sisters and Annie last Saturday, the local events promoting peace and understanding and, of course, the visit of inspiring Pope Francis to this country----all have provided me moments of escape from my emotions regarding our beloved Kea.

And, yesterday, probably because it occurred here at the Lovestead, I enjoyed some happy moments with old friends.  

Yes, their visit all centered around poop, but when my longtime family friend Jean and her daughter Lorna (I like to brag that I've known her since the day she was born) arrived at the Lovestead, we set aside the poop pile for a while and enjoyed some catching up and some reminiscing. 

I asked Jean how old she would be on her next birthday.  

"80," she told me.

"When is that?" I asked.

"April," she said.  

Darn, I said, adding that she would have to wait another year to get that free season pass Schweitzer Mountain Resort is offering to skiers 80 or over. 

Can you believe from that photo above that Jean will soon be an octogenarian.  Only the chronological number makes that true. 

Jean talked about using a chain saw the day before and how proud she was of Lorna for her chain saw abilities.  

Jean wants that "poop" to enhance her garden.  So, we all know there's work involved.  

When Jean spotted a bunch of twine strings hanging on my barn wall, she asked how I used it. I told her that I eventually just throw it away. 

Hearing that, she asked for a supply, explaining that twine comes in very handy with her gardening activities, especially tying up her raspberry bushes just like her mom and dad used to do. 

We walked to the pasture and looked at the horses up close and personal.  During those moments, memories of the spotted horses Jean used to own came up----one of which was responsible for a major injury she sustained.  

Jean said she couldn't get quite as excited about Lily (cuz she's another spotted horse) as Lefty.  

Lorna met Foster and Kiwi and formed a pretty instant friendship, even inducing them to "report" to the garage while I loaded the black gold into the back of Jean's Ford truck. 

With Jean giving hand signals to inch forward and then to stop, I dumped about six bucketfuls into the pickup, with just a bit of dirt dribbling over the side. 

Lorna told me I earned an A-plus in poop loading.  That made me smile. 

At one point, our visiting turned to a time many decades ago when Jean was young and Sandpoint Saddle Club members like my parents, Etta Balch, Fats and Ardis Racicot and Guy Hesselgesser served as equine mentors to Jean. 

"We did moonlight rides," she recalled.  

"Where"?" I asked. 

"Around town," she said.  

What a nice opportunity, I thought, imagining old-time Sandpoint when horses clip clopping along downtown streets was so much more common than what we would see today. 

I loved that story from Jean because I'd never heard it before.  Such nuggets pop up every so often, adding to the grand tapestry of one's local memories. 

And,  let's just say it was a rich experience in many ways having Jean and Lorna visit the Lovestead. 

We did the obligatory photograph in front of her pile of nicely loaded black gold.  

She and Lorna also took home some plum jelly, a bag of twine, some plums for a neighbor who likes to make jams and jellies AND a photograph for Lorna, which I snapped last year along the west coast of Ireland. 

I thanked this delightful mother-daughter team for what they had given me-----a pleasant and happy break from a week of sad memories and the invaluable gift of longtime friendship.  

Nothing tops that. 

Happy Friday.