It seems that the Madison County Lake Commission, or whatever the heck they've coined themselves, has decided on a site that is NOT situated over my house. It is, in fact, nowhere near my house.
Thank GOODNESS!!!
You don't know how much sleep I lost, worrying about that.
Of course, nothing is certain. They have made the recommendation for this site to the US Department of Agriculture's Natural Resource Conservation Service, and that entity will study the location in detail. They expect that it will take the "better part of the next several years." How's that for exact timing!
I'm still guarded, of course, but at least it is not in the forefront of my mind.
Thursday, September 29, 2005
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
“What you do sounds so fun!” (An exact client quote…)
My “so fun” experience in London started on Thursday.
I was busy doing laundry and preparing for my trip—complete with a messy house and scary hair. I planned to work in the barn and shower just before leaving. So when I spoke to a friend I hadn’t heard from in some time, I had a hard time turning her down for lunch (even though she suggested my house). I scrambled around to clean up the sty and shower so she would not be frightened away. Needless to say, by the time I needed to leave, I was frazzled.
I forgot my cell phone, and had to come back to get it.
And the saga begins:
Thursday, 5:45 pm
Arrive at the airport. Realize I forgot my power supply and decide to either use my boss’ or try and find a store in the airport in Chicago that will sell them (I have an iBook, so they are not as easy to find).
6:15 pm
Arrive at the gate, ready to check in. Review some last minute files. Say a prayer of thanks for giving me the sense to wear comfortable clothes.
6:45 pm
Expect to start boarding. Instead, hear an announcement that we will be delayed until 7:30. Begin to get a little nervous about catching my 9:55 flight in Chicago to London.
6:50 pm
Fight the urge to slap the flight attendant when he told me he couldn’t check on my Chicago connection because he was “just a flight attendant.” What, instead of a damn wizard?? Check in the computer, moron!!!
6:51 pm
Resign myself to paying for a wireless internet connection in the airport to visit the American Airlines website so I can check the status of my connecting flight. It is showing an on-time departure.
7;30:00 pm
Board the Tonka-sized aircraft and wedge my butt into the seats.
7:30:30 pm
Wipe sweat from my brow after wedging my butt in and then prepare to wipe tears as the captain announces that we are going to be delayed by at least an hour, but “I am going to ask that you stay on board the aircraft (and they use that term loosely) so, should we get the go ahead to take off, we won’t miss the small window of opportunity."
7:31 pm
I call B and ask him to check the status of my outbound connection at O’Hare. Still on time. The flight attendant comes over and seeing that I am on the phone with B, recommends that I ask B for the American Airlines customer service number to call and book myself on the next flight. I ask B for permission to really take this guy out. B denies me permission citing several FAA regulations and federal laws prohibiting the bitch slapping of flight attendants. I threaten divorce, but still, permission denied. He loves me and wants me to stay out of jail.
8:35 pm
We take off. I begin to pray, as I hate flying.
9:45 pm
We arrive at O’Hare and they tell me my gate is not that far, and I can still make it on time for my 9:55 flight. Of course, they give me no directions, just a gate number. I am torn between getting back on a flight to Des Moines and attempting to sprint to catch my flight out of spite. I choose the latter and set off.
9:55 pm
The time my flight is schedule to leave. I arrive at the gate, to hear my name on a list of passengers who have “2 minutes to board the plane.” I do so, and the door closes behind me. It occurs to me that my shoulder is actually bruised from running with my lead bags.
9:57 pm
I find someone sitting in my seat. She tells me we can sit anywhere, that the plan is virtually empty. I concur, as I look around and consider that I am likely the last one on the plane. I choose a bank of two seats, and hope that I get them all to myself.
9:59 pm
We taxi to the runway, with me snug in my own two seats. I contemplate the fact that they would have had to really hurry to get my bag on the plane…
10:59 pm
We are still on the runway. I KNOW they have had enough time to get my bag on, and I hear them thumping around underneath the plane.
11:15 pm
Takeoff. Once again, I find religion.
12:00 am Friday
I revel in the fact that I have 2 seats, 2 blankets and 2 pillows to myself, place my black satin mask over my eyes, my earplugs in my ears, and I drift off to sleep…
1:15 pm GMT
We land at Heathrow. Miserably late. I have 45 minutes to make it to my pre-conference meeting with the hotel staff and my boss.
2:00 pm
My boss and the hotel staff are beginning the precon. I am standing in line to make a claim for missing luggage.
2:45 pm
I leave for the hotel. I take the Heathrow Express to Paddington Station.
3:00 pm
I arrive at Paddington Station and ask for directions to my hotel. Someone suggests that I take a bus, and hands me a map and tells me where to catch it. I stumble outside, in the rain, to the bus stop and buy a ticket.
3:10 pm
I board the bus and ask the driver if it stops at my hotel. He says I have the bus going in the wrong direction. I leave the bus and step in a huge puddle, soaking my shoe. I see the bus I need speeding down the street away from me. I cross and wait for another bus.
3:20 pm
I board the right bus, and attempt to put my ticket into the appropriate looking slot near the driver. He screams at me, “What are you doing!!??? Just go find a seat!!!” I am humiliated, and I pretend that I don’t speak English. I take my seat with my bags that weigh as much as a small adult (but not my suitcase).
3:40 pm
I realize that you have to push a button when you want the bus to stop. But, since I don’t know where my stop is, and I can’t really see outside of the crowded bus, I decide to get off and walk. In the rain. With a squishy, wet shoe.
3:55 pm
I arrive at the hotel, where they look at me with skeptcism with my wrinkled clothes, smeared makeup, extensive eye-baggage and wet hair (oh, and squishy shoes). Their skepticism is confirmed when I attempt to use an expired credit card to pay for my room. (Why did I keep the expired one even after I put the new one in my wallet? I resolve to shred it when I get home.)
4:00 pm
Go to my room and check email. I see that my boxes have not yet arrived. I call the DHL representative, who tells me that there are taxes that need to be paid. She needs a check. In UK funds only. No dollars. No credit cards. No company checks. In 30 minutes. My boxes—along with my lost suitcase—contain all of the meeting supplies.
4:30 pm
I have convinced the DHL rep to send me the boxes. For an additional $175 “special delivery charge.” They are scheduled to arrive “sometime tonight.”
5:00 pm
American Airlines calls to tell me that my suitcase will be on the 10:30 pm flight and they will have it couriered over immediately. I arrange for a call from the concierge to call me no matter what time the luggage arrives.
5:10 pm
I tell my boss the good news. He’s impressed by my string of luck. He asks if I want to have dinner with him and his family in the hotel restaurant. I politely decline, instead choosing room service to avoid being mistaken for a transient by the looks of my clothes.
5:15 pm
I head out to the London Apple Store to find a power supply. £55 later I am the proud owner of the gadget, however useless it may be to me in my home country.
7:00 pm
The boxes are delivered and I begin stuffing packets and preparing what I can for the meeting.
11:00 pm
I decide to go to bed, and am incredibly thankful that the hotel the group has chosen is posh enough to provide a complimentary terrycloth robe to all guests. I decide that it will make a fine nightshirt. I am sure to turn the A/C waaay up.
12:03 am Saturday
I am startled awake by the concerige who cheerfully chirps that my “case has arrived, Madam.” I utter something incoherent, to which he replies, “Pardon me, Madam, I will ring you back in the morning.” I come to my senses and say, “Wait wait wait wait wait! Bring it up!! Many thanks!!”
12:04 am
The clothes I was wearing are now so nasty that I am practically chasing them around the room to get them on before my bag is delivered. Plus, I am in a jet-lagged stupor. I can’t remember much, I only hope I was decent when I opened the door. I didn’t even tip the guy, I was so out of it.
5:30 am
I wake up refreshed and ready to go (NOT!). I start the day, and it goes quite well, actually.
11:30 pm
Bedtime
5:30 am Sunday
I wake up and go downstairs. The main meeting’s official starting day.
9:30 am
Reviewing the day’s events, I realize that en route, I received an email to confirm dinner plans for that evening. I decide that it’s a good time to review them for any last minute notes, directions to the place, etc. We are going to the London Eye, and having dinner at Chez Gerard afterwards. I have arranged buses for the trip. I notice in the official looking confirmation that they have made a typo on the dinner time, our ride is noted as 6:30 pm (correct) and the dinner is noted at 12:15 pm (very incorrect). I also noticed that our buses need special passes. So I return to my room to call the London Eye to get this straightened out. When I called, the woman was very pleasant, and emailed me the bus passes. However, she said that the time had always been 12:15, and they were expecting 115 people for lunch. WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? I was physically ill. How could I tell those people that there was no dinner, and that the time had been miskeyed!? I begged her to try and fix it, to call the restaurant, etc. She said she would, and would return my call in 5 minutes. That was the longest 5 minutes of my life. She returned the call, and said she didn’t know anything definite, but it would likely be okay. She had spoken to the chef, and he was awaiting final confirmation from the manager, who was coming in at 10. She would call me. Once again, I found religion.
10:15 am
My contact from the London Eye called me back. She said the manager said it was okay to have 115 for dinner! A wave of relief came over me, and I decided I had better stop crying before returning downstairs to tell my boss. I decided he would probably wonder why I had instantly gone gray and was missing hair, and smelling like vomit, so I thought I should just be upfront. His comment to me? “Good catch.” Yeah, just another good catch. No sweat.
4:30 pm
Panic sets in. What happens if extra people come to the dinner? What happens if the manager is really angry with me? I decide to call him. Peter. Peter the superhero. I thank him profusely, even moreso after I find out that the restaurant normally closes at 5:00 on Sunday, but he will open the restaurant just for my group. I swear to him that I would marry him on the spot if I was not already married. (no, I did NOT really say that, I’m just trying to convey my gratitude) He asks if I will be there, and I tell him that I will indeed, and will be the desperate looking thankful one. (I really DID say that.)
5:30 pm
The buses are late, but finally show up and we are off.
6:30 pm
We are atop the London Eye. My boss is smiling, the attendees are happy. I am guardedly optimistic.
7:15 pm
We enter the Chez Gerard and I kiss Peter (yes, I did, the European kiss-kiss way, you know…). I tell him he is my hero, and that I am forever grateful to him. He tells me it was nothing, but I remind him that he is a young man, and young men are not happy at 10am on a Sunday when they find out that their normally short workday will now be 12 hours long. He acknowledges that he was not pleased when the phone rang, but that he is over it and is happy to help. I make a note to give him a big tip. We eat, and all is well. I drink lots and lots of wine. Our president asks me to call for the buses, and I have to get up and do so. I nearly fall from drunkenness, but decide that I will not make a fool out of myself at this point, since I have avoided doing it so until now. I get it together, and make the call. The driver tells me that it is earlier than he expected, and that he does not know where the other driver is. I decide to have faith, and they return to the restaurant a few minutes late. I can hardly contain my giddiness as we return—it’s almost over!
As we disembark the bus, one attendee thanked me for the arrangements and complimented how smoothly it had gone. If he only knew…
6:15 am, Monday
I wake up and leave for home sweet home! The day and flights were so uneventful that I can’t even find anything funny to say about it. It’s so good to be home.
Oh, I was asked by B to bring him some Cadbury. I brought him 9 pounds of chocolate in the duty free store. He was pleased, as only a chocoholic could be.
Here are some photos. Some are from my hotel window and others are from the London Eye. Click on the photo for a slideshow.
I was busy doing laundry and preparing for my trip—complete with a messy house and scary hair. I planned to work in the barn and shower just before leaving. So when I spoke to a friend I hadn’t heard from in some time, I had a hard time turning her down for lunch (even though she suggested my house). I scrambled around to clean up the sty and shower so she would not be frightened away. Needless to say, by the time I needed to leave, I was frazzled.
I forgot my cell phone, and had to come back to get it.
And the saga begins:
Thursday, 5:45 pm
Arrive at the airport. Realize I forgot my power supply and decide to either use my boss’ or try and find a store in the airport in Chicago that will sell them (I have an iBook, so they are not as easy to find).
6:15 pm
Arrive at the gate, ready to check in. Review some last minute files. Say a prayer of thanks for giving me the sense to wear comfortable clothes.
6:45 pm
Expect to start boarding. Instead, hear an announcement that we will be delayed until 7:30. Begin to get a little nervous about catching my 9:55 flight in Chicago to London.
6:50 pm
Fight the urge to slap the flight attendant when he told me he couldn’t check on my Chicago connection because he was “just a flight attendant.” What, instead of a damn wizard?? Check in the computer, moron!!!
6:51 pm
Resign myself to paying for a wireless internet connection in the airport to visit the American Airlines website so I can check the status of my connecting flight. It is showing an on-time departure.
7;30:00 pm
Board the Tonka-sized aircraft and wedge my butt into the seats.
7:30:30 pm
Wipe sweat from my brow after wedging my butt in and then prepare to wipe tears as the captain announces that we are going to be delayed by at least an hour, but “I am going to ask that you stay on board the aircraft (and they use that term loosely) so, should we get the go ahead to take off, we won’t miss the small window of opportunity."
7:31 pm
I call B and ask him to check the status of my outbound connection at O’Hare. Still on time. The flight attendant comes over and seeing that I am on the phone with B, recommends that I ask B for the American Airlines customer service number to call and book myself on the next flight. I ask B for permission to really take this guy out. B denies me permission citing several FAA regulations and federal laws prohibiting the bitch slapping of flight attendants. I threaten divorce, but still, permission denied. He loves me and wants me to stay out of jail.
8:35 pm
We take off. I begin to pray, as I hate flying.
9:45 pm
We arrive at O’Hare and they tell me my gate is not that far, and I can still make it on time for my 9:55 flight. Of course, they give me no directions, just a gate number. I am torn between getting back on a flight to Des Moines and attempting to sprint to catch my flight out of spite. I choose the latter and set off.
9:55 pm
The time my flight is schedule to leave. I arrive at the gate, to hear my name on a list of passengers who have “2 minutes to board the plane.” I do so, and the door closes behind me. It occurs to me that my shoulder is actually bruised from running with my lead bags.
9:57 pm
I find someone sitting in my seat. She tells me we can sit anywhere, that the plan is virtually empty. I concur, as I look around and consider that I am likely the last one on the plane. I choose a bank of two seats, and hope that I get them all to myself.
9:59 pm
We taxi to the runway, with me snug in my own two seats. I contemplate the fact that they would have had to really hurry to get my bag on the plane…
10:59 pm
We are still on the runway. I KNOW they have had enough time to get my bag on, and I hear them thumping around underneath the plane.
11:15 pm
Takeoff. Once again, I find religion.
12:00 am Friday
I revel in the fact that I have 2 seats, 2 blankets and 2 pillows to myself, place my black satin mask over my eyes, my earplugs in my ears, and I drift off to sleep…
1:15 pm GMT
We land at Heathrow. Miserably late. I have 45 minutes to make it to my pre-conference meeting with the hotel staff and my boss.
2:00 pm
My boss and the hotel staff are beginning the precon. I am standing in line to make a claim for missing luggage.
2:45 pm
I leave for the hotel. I take the Heathrow Express to Paddington Station.
3:00 pm
I arrive at Paddington Station and ask for directions to my hotel. Someone suggests that I take a bus, and hands me a map and tells me where to catch it. I stumble outside, in the rain, to the bus stop and buy a ticket.
3:10 pm
I board the bus and ask the driver if it stops at my hotel. He says I have the bus going in the wrong direction. I leave the bus and step in a huge puddle, soaking my shoe. I see the bus I need speeding down the street away from me. I cross and wait for another bus.
3:20 pm
I board the right bus, and attempt to put my ticket into the appropriate looking slot near the driver. He screams at me, “What are you doing!!??? Just go find a seat!!!” I am humiliated, and I pretend that I don’t speak English. I take my seat with my bags that weigh as much as a small adult (but not my suitcase).
3:40 pm
I realize that you have to push a button when you want the bus to stop. But, since I don’t know where my stop is, and I can’t really see outside of the crowded bus, I decide to get off and walk. In the rain. With a squishy, wet shoe.
3:55 pm
I arrive at the hotel, where they look at me with skeptcism with my wrinkled clothes, smeared makeup, extensive eye-baggage and wet hair (oh, and squishy shoes). Their skepticism is confirmed when I attempt to use an expired credit card to pay for my room. (Why did I keep the expired one even after I put the new one in my wallet? I resolve to shred it when I get home.)
4:00 pm
Go to my room and check email. I see that my boxes have not yet arrived. I call the DHL representative, who tells me that there are taxes that need to be paid. She needs a check. In UK funds only. No dollars. No credit cards. No company checks. In 30 minutes. My boxes—along with my lost suitcase—contain all of the meeting supplies.
4:30 pm
I have convinced the DHL rep to send me the boxes. For an additional $175 “special delivery charge.” They are scheduled to arrive “sometime tonight.”
5:00 pm
American Airlines calls to tell me that my suitcase will be on the 10:30 pm flight and they will have it couriered over immediately. I arrange for a call from the concierge to call me no matter what time the luggage arrives.
5:10 pm
I tell my boss the good news. He’s impressed by my string of luck. He asks if I want to have dinner with him and his family in the hotel restaurant. I politely decline, instead choosing room service to avoid being mistaken for a transient by the looks of my clothes.
5:15 pm
I head out to the London Apple Store to find a power supply. £55 later I am the proud owner of the gadget, however useless it may be to me in my home country.
7:00 pm
The boxes are delivered and I begin stuffing packets and preparing what I can for the meeting.
11:00 pm
I decide to go to bed, and am incredibly thankful that the hotel the group has chosen is posh enough to provide a complimentary terrycloth robe to all guests. I decide that it will make a fine nightshirt. I am sure to turn the A/C waaay up.
12:03 am Saturday
I am startled awake by the concerige who cheerfully chirps that my “case has arrived, Madam.” I utter something incoherent, to which he replies, “Pardon me, Madam, I will ring you back in the morning.” I come to my senses and say, “Wait wait wait wait wait! Bring it up!! Many thanks!!”
12:04 am
The clothes I was wearing are now so nasty that I am practically chasing them around the room to get them on before my bag is delivered. Plus, I am in a jet-lagged stupor. I can’t remember much, I only hope I was decent when I opened the door. I didn’t even tip the guy, I was so out of it.
5:30 am
I wake up refreshed and ready to go (NOT!). I start the day, and it goes quite well, actually.
11:30 pm
Bedtime
5:30 am Sunday
I wake up and go downstairs. The main meeting’s official starting day.
9:30 am
Reviewing the day’s events, I realize that en route, I received an email to confirm dinner plans for that evening. I decide that it’s a good time to review them for any last minute notes, directions to the place, etc. We are going to the London Eye, and having dinner at Chez Gerard afterwards. I have arranged buses for the trip. I notice in the official looking confirmation that they have made a typo on the dinner time, our ride is noted as 6:30 pm (correct) and the dinner is noted at 12:15 pm (very incorrect). I also noticed that our buses need special passes. So I return to my room to call the London Eye to get this straightened out. When I called, the woman was very pleasant, and emailed me the bus passes. However, she said that the time had always been 12:15, and they were expecting 115 people for lunch. WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? I was physically ill. How could I tell those people that there was no dinner, and that the time had been miskeyed!? I begged her to try and fix it, to call the restaurant, etc. She said she would, and would return my call in 5 minutes. That was the longest 5 minutes of my life. She returned the call, and said she didn’t know anything definite, but it would likely be okay. She had spoken to the chef, and he was awaiting final confirmation from the manager, who was coming in at 10. She would call me. Once again, I found religion.
10:15 am
My contact from the London Eye called me back. She said the manager said it was okay to have 115 for dinner! A wave of relief came over me, and I decided I had better stop crying before returning downstairs to tell my boss. I decided he would probably wonder why I had instantly gone gray and was missing hair, and smelling like vomit, so I thought I should just be upfront. His comment to me? “Good catch.” Yeah, just another good catch. No sweat.
4:30 pm
Panic sets in. What happens if extra people come to the dinner? What happens if the manager is really angry with me? I decide to call him. Peter. Peter the superhero. I thank him profusely, even moreso after I find out that the restaurant normally closes at 5:00 on Sunday, but he will open the restaurant just for my group. I swear to him that I would marry him on the spot if I was not already married. (no, I did NOT really say that, I’m just trying to convey my gratitude) He asks if I will be there, and I tell him that I will indeed, and will be the desperate looking thankful one. (I really DID say that.)
5:30 pm
The buses are late, but finally show up and we are off.
6:30 pm
We are atop the London Eye. My boss is smiling, the attendees are happy. I am guardedly optimistic.
7:15 pm
We enter the Chez Gerard and I kiss Peter (yes, I did, the European kiss-kiss way, you know…). I tell him he is my hero, and that I am forever grateful to him. He tells me it was nothing, but I remind him that he is a young man, and young men are not happy at 10am on a Sunday when they find out that their normally short workday will now be 12 hours long. He acknowledges that he was not pleased when the phone rang, but that he is over it and is happy to help. I make a note to give him a big tip. We eat, and all is well. I drink lots and lots of wine. Our president asks me to call for the buses, and I have to get up and do so. I nearly fall from drunkenness, but decide that I will not make a fool out of myself at this point, since I have avoided doing it so until now. I get it together, and make the call. The driver tells me that it is earlier than he expected, and that he does not know where the other driver is. I decide to have faith, and they return to the restaurant a few minutes late. I can hardly contain my giddiness as we return—it’s almost over!
As we disembark the bus, one attendee thanked me for the arrangements and complimented how smoothly it had gone. If he only knew…
6:15 am, Monday
I wake up and leave for home sweet home! The day and flights were so uneventful that I can’t even find anything funny to say about it. It’s so good to be home.
Oh, I was asked by B to bring him some Cadbury. I brought him 9 pounds of chocolate in the duty free store. He was pleased, as only a chocoholic could be.
Here are some photos. Some are from my hotel window and others are from the London Eye. Click on the photo for a slideshow.
Sunday, September 18, 2005
harvest moon
If I never again smell the fragrance of "Leather New" it will be too soon! We polished that harness with Brasso and Leather New between each event, which was a total of 8, including the parades!
We helped out this weekend as grooms for Major at the Harvest Moon Carriage Classic at Living History Farms in Des Moines. It was actually a little disappointing that more folks did not come out, since the days were exceedingly lovely, and the event was really something to see.
The premise of the event, and I'm assuming most American Driving Society Events (though I could be wrong), is to create an appreciation for a lost art. Driving itself is extremely tricky, and while it seems that anyone can grab the reins, cluck to the horse, pull to the left or to the right, scream a gee or a haw, and pull back and yell whoa, that is not the case at all. And of course, like most competitive events, takes the basic task to a whole new level.
The driver must be in period costume, and have a horse that is suitable for him or her, as well as their cart. Harnesses and carts are matched in their hardware-- a brass-trimmed cart will require a harness trimmed in brass (and polished to a brassy shine!). This weekend, the competitions included "turnout", which is a judgement of how put together the ensemble is, how well the horse moves, and how pleasureable he or she appears to drive. Major and M got first place!! Cross-country is an obstacle course created to reflect situations that may appear as you travel through the countryside-- they had some fake geese set out, leaves scattered, a railroad crossing. Major balked at the railroad crossing, and actually came to a screeching halt. Well, he TRIED to come to a halt-- the grass was wet and he fell to his stomach! It could have been a terrible, terrible situation. But he got up and went across, and finished the course. The event was judged on the overall time, with penalties added for refusals or skipped events. He got 4th! Town and Country is another obstacle course setup, but he did not compete in that event. There were two cones courses, where drivers had to weave between sets of cones with tennis balls on them, making sure not to knock the balls off of the cones as they went through. In one set, drivers needed to follow the pre-set course. The second set, they could choose their own route through the cones. The cones seemed to be quite tight, an M and Major knocked two cones off in one of the events. But he must have been fast, as he got fourth again! We did not yet hear how he did in the other course, as that was late this afternoon. Another event he competed in was Working Pleasure, where they had to demonstrate their driving capabilities while executing various gaits and directions. He came in third, which was not as good as we had hoped, but he was being a handfull at that point, so the award was fair. Today was "Designer Reinsmanship" which was an event where the driver needed to demonstrate various levels of skill at gaits and also the ability to drive one-handed. M did well, and they got a 2nd place!
Those six events had to be completed by every driver competing in a division. Major was entered in the Open Horse division, and he competed against all of the other horses in that Open Horse. Major's mom, Topaz, also competed in the very same events, but she was entered in the novice division. There are 5 divisions total. In each division, the show organizer picks the top representative, and asks them to compete in the "Concours d'Elegance." We had practically expected them to ask M and Major, since they got first in turnout and did so well in the other events. However, they did not get asked, and we were sad about that.
If you want to know more about Living History Farms and the Harvest Moon Carriage Classic, click here or here.
I've uploaded a slideshow of the days' events. Click on the photo below to see it! (if you want to know more about the photos, click on the photos in the slideshow when you have finished watching.)
I'm off to 4H and then to BED! We're pooped!
We helped out this weekend as grooms for Major at the Harvest Moon Carriage Classic at Living History Farms in Des Moines. It was actually a little disappointing that more folks did not come out, since the days were exceedingly lovely, and the event was really something to see.
The premise of the event, and I'm assuming most American Driving Society Events (though I could be wrong), is to create an appreciation for a lost art. Driving itself is extremely tricky, and while it seems that anyone can grab the reins, cluck to the horse, pull to the left or to the right, scream a gee or a haw, and pull back and yell whoa, that is not the case at all. And of course, like most competitive events, takes the basic task to a whole new level.
The driver must be in period costume, and have a horse that is suitable for him or her, as well as their cart. Harnesses and carts are matched in their hardware-- a brass-trimmed cart will require a harness trimmed in brass (and polished to a brassy shine!). This weekend, the competitions included "turnout", which is a judgement of how put together the ensemble is, how well the horse moves, and how pleasureable he or she appears to drive. Major and M got first place!! Cross-country is an obstacle course created to reflect situations that may appear as you travel through the countryside-- they had some fake geese set out, leaves scattered, a railroad crossing. Major balked at the railroad crossing, and actually came to a screeching halt. Well, he TRIED to come to a halt-- the grass was wet and he fell to his stomach! It could have been a terrible, terrible situation. But he got up and went across, and finished the course. The event was judged on the overall time, with penalties added for refusals or skipped events. He got 4th! Town and Country is another obstacle course setup, but he did not compete in that event. There were two cones courses, where drivers had to weave between sets of cones with tennis balls on them, making sure not to knock the balls off of the cones as they went through. In one set, drivers needed to follow the pre-set course. The second set, they could choose their own route through the cones. The cones seemed to be quite tight, an M and Major knocked two cones off in one of the events. But he must have been fast, as he got fourth again! We did not yet hear how he did in the other course, as that was late this afternoon. Another event he competed in was Working Pleasure, where they had to demonstrate their driving capabilities while executing various gaits and directions. He came in third, which was not as good as we had hoped, but he was being a handfull at that point, so the award was fair. Today was "Designer Reinsmanship" which was an event where the driver needed to demonstrate various levels of skill at gaits and also the ability to drive one-handed. M did well, and they got a 2nd place!
Those six events had to be completed by every driver competing in a division. Major was entered in the Open Horse division, and he competed against all of the other horses in that Open Horse. Major's mom, Topaz, also competed in the very same events, but she was entered in the novice division. There are 5 divisions total. In each division, the show organizer picks the top representative, and asks them to compete in the "Concours d'Elegance." We had practically expected them to ask M and Major, since they got first in turnout and did so well in the other events. However, they did not get asked, and we were sad about that.
If you want to know more about Living History Farms and the Harvest Moon Carriage Classic, click here or here.
I've uploaded a slideshow of the days' events. Click on the photo below to see it! (if you want to know more about the photos, click on the photos in the slideshow when you have finished watching.)
I'm off to 4H and then to BED! We're pooped!
Friday, September 16, 2005
peace
i'm searching for it. it's a crazy week, thanks for coming here and thinking of me. sorry i don't have a good update!
this weekend is major's show. i'll take photos.
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
blog-o-versary
It’s my blog-o-versary! One year ago I sat down and put pen to paper (figuratively speaking), and began my journal about living at Terre d’Esprit. It has been a fun year—it hardly seems as though it’s been that long! I have made friends, old friends have come out of the woodwork, and I have learned a lot about myself.
I wish I had something witty to say, something pithy and memorable. I just don’t! Work has taken every ounce of energy and creativity from me!
It happens also to be an anniversary of sorts in my life. Today is the anniversary of our first date. And I used all of my creativity on a card and gift for B.
I will close by sharing a funny story:
Up at the stable where Major is being boarded (until October 1, when he comes back here), he is the only stallion. And he’s so nice, so everyone loves him. Well, the woman who cleans stalls took pity on him, that he couldn’t be turned out with the rest of the group, so she turned him out in the indoor arena. M came over, just to see what he was up to, and noticed a longe whip in the middle of the arena. Of course, he immediately went over and picked it up, and started prancing around, taunting her because he knew he shouldn’t have it in his mouth (he loves to chew leather, and is always getting into trouble for it, so he knows he shouldn’t have it). Anyway, as he is prancing around, he inadvertently cracks the whip, which scares him half to death! He drops the whip and runs over to M shaking and acting like a whimpering puppy!!
I miss him terribly!
Photos of today. Harvest time soon.
I wish I had something witty to say, something pithy and memorable. I just don’t! Work has taken every ounce of energy and creativity from me!
It happens also to be an anniversary of sorts in my life. Today is the anniversary of our first date. And I used all of my creativity on a card and gift for B.
I will close by sharing a funny story:
Up at the stable where Major is being boarded (until October 1, when he comes back here), he is the only stallion. And he’s so nice, so everyone loves him. Well, the woman who cleans stalls took pity on him, that he couldn’t be turned out with the rest of the group, so she turned him out in the indoor arena. M came over, just to see what he was up to, and noticed a longe whip in the middle of the arena. Of course, he immediately went over and picked it up, and started prancing around, taunting her because he knew he shouldn’t have it in his mouth (he loves to chew leather, and is always getting into trouble for it, so he knows he shouldn’t have it). Anyway, as he is prancing around, he inadvertently cracks the whip, which scares him half to death! He drops the whip and runs over to M shaking and acting like a whimpering puppy!!
I miss him terribly!
Photos of today. Harvest time soon.
Sunday, September 11, 2005
update
nope, i haven't gotten lost, eaten by a goat or fallen off the face of the earth! i'm still here.
i have been swamped at work. i leave for london on the 22nd and i am getting ready for that. it's crazy busy. then i come back on the tuesday and i prepare for a meeting a week later on the wednesday. then i have yet another meeting on the following wed. i will be a puddle when i am done.
needless to say i have little time for enjoying anything these days. i worked all weekend (though at home, which sometimes can be a curse, given all the loveliness around me that i'd rather be enjoying), and did nothing fun.
my camera is broken, too, which is a shame, because i can't seem to speak when i can't also show you! i have ordered another one, and it should be here this week. this one is much nicer than the old one, so hopefully that will be reflected in my pictures.
hope your weekend was better than mine! here's to a good week.
i have been swamped at work. i leave for london on the 22nd and i am getting ready for that. it's crazy busy. then i come back on the tuesday and i prepare for a meeting a week later on the wednesday. then i have yet another meeting on the following wed. i will be a puddle when i am done.
needless to say i have little time for enjoying anything these days. i worked all weekend (though at home, which sometimes can be a curse, given all the loveliness around me that i'd rather be enjoying), and did nothing fun.
my camera is broken, too, which is a shame, because i can't seem to speak when i can't also show you! i have ordered another one, and it should be here this week. this one is much nicer than the old one, so hopefully that will be reflected in my pictures.
hope your weekend was better than mine! here's to a good week.
Saturday, September 10, 2005
i'm freaking out!!!!!!!!
a boy just called. at 10:15 pm. for m.
my baby is in 7th grade, and boys are already calling!
i will have to double up on my counseling sessions now.
ugh...
i think i blew it, though. it sounded like a man, so i gave him a hard time. he gave his name (fool) so i googled him and found out that he's in m's grade at her school.
now i'm sick to my stomach.
my baby is in 7th grade, and boys are already calling!
i will have to double up on my counseling sessions now.
ugh...
i think i blew it, though. it sounded like a man, so i gave him a hard time. he gave his name (fool) so i googled him and found out that he's in m's grade at her school.
now i'm sick to my stomach.
Thursday, September 08, 2005
october 1
He's coming back! He's coming back! October 1, and he'll be back in my barn. : )
M is keeping him a bit longer, so they can compete in the
Harvest Moon Carriage Classic at Living History Farms
Of course, I will be there. He needs his posse to cheer him on! M even said that he wouldn't be the same unless I came to be with him.
This is supposed to be a very important driving show, sanctioned by the American Driving Society.
I can't wait!!
M is keeping him a bit longer, so they can compete in the
Harvest Moon Carriage Classic at Living History Farms
Of course, I will be there. He needs his posse to cheer him on! M even said that he wouldn't be the same unless I came to be with him.
This is supposed to be a very important driving show, sanctioned by the American Driving Society.
I can't wait!!
Monday, September 05, 2005
Good Idea!!
Gas Prices Drive Man to Commute by Horse
MINOT, N.D. - Jim Jundt was so determined to rein in his spending on gasoline that he got out of bed early and rode his 14-year-old quarterhorse mare to work.
Jundt lives 15 miles south of Minot and works as a mechanic at Goodyear Tire & Auto Service in the city.
He said he and his co-workers had been talking about rising fuel prices, and he joked that he would ride his horse to work if gasoline ever hit $3 a gallon.
His co-workers laughed, but when the price at the pump soared to $3.20 last week, Jundt headed for the barn.
He said he was only five minutes late riding his mare, Patty, to work.
While he worked, Patty waited patiently, eating hay out of the back of a truck.
I wonder how long it would take for my 35-40 minute commute!
MINOT, N.D. - Jim Jundt was so determined to rein in his spending on gasoline that he got out of bed early and rode his 14-year-old quarterhorse mare to work.
Jundt lives 15 miles south of Minot and works as a mechanic at Goodyear Tire & Auto Service in the city.
He said he and his co-workers had been talking about rising fuel prices, and he joked that he would ride his horse to work if gasoline ever hit $3 a gallon.
His co-workers laughed, but when the price at the pump soared to $3.20 last week, Jundt headed for the barn.
He said he was only five minutes late riding his mare, Patty, to work.
While he worked, Patty waited patiently, eating hay out of the back of a truck.
I wonder how long it would take for my 35-40 minute commute!
Sunday, September 04, 2005
constellation consolation
i had one of those days. the days you don't look forward to having. we went to a new church (the highlight of my day), did a crappy errand, and then i came home and put away six tons of laundry. then i searched for my passport. when I was done, i had found the passport (whew!), and about 3 bushels full of trash to burn (i am a record keeper, but i admit that i was really taking it too far). then i made supper.
then i went to the barn, and said my goodnights. i rescued a toad from a sure fate of being cat food, and he thanked me by peeing on me.
but then, we spent the last half hour outside, hammocking. what an amazing view. have i said that before? we saw a bunch of shooting stars!
it made my day.
then i went to the barn, and said my goodnights. i rescued a toad from a sure fate of being cat food, and he thanked me by peeing on me.
but then, we spent the last half hour outside, hammocking. what an amazing view. have i said that before? we saw a bunch of shooting stars!
it made my day.
Saturday, September 03, 2005
Am I Tacky Enough?
I entered a contest for America's tackiest room. Our mudroom is incredibly tacky. It has paneling from floor to ceiling in the entire room. It's a small room, like 10x9. That would be a fine sized room, especially for a mudroom, but when you panel it, it instantly becomes overwhelmed. Its best feature is the lovely period light that is in it. I wish everything else had been so well-preserved!! Of course, there is wallpaper on the ceiling. The vinyl on the floor is somewhat tacky, though with the right decorating, it could stay. It's just not of this era... It also has an archway that was carved out into the kitchen area. Very few men can fit through the archway without minding their heads.
When we moved in, there was paneling on the closet doors in the room! I couldn't stand to look at it, so we took the paneling off. One of the other lovely decorating features of the paneling is that it didn't go all the way to the ceiling, so they put patches on above the paneling. They did try to meet the two pieces of paneling, but sometimes it's skewed. Then they took a piece of trim and covered the seam, to look like some sophisticated picture molding.
What would be ideal for this room is some wainscoting. I would love to tear the paneling down and go for it. I'd also like to have some built in storage, since it IS a mud room. The problem with it now is that the bathroom is off of that room, so everybody has to walk through it to get to the bathroom. There is also an outside door in that room. This house is somewhat convoluted!
Anyway, I entered a contest for the America's Tackiest Room. Looking at some of the entries, I think there are some tackier rooms out there!! However, I do hope my room wins (I should have left the paneling on the doors)! Take a look and tell me what you think. Click here. Our entry is #238. Oh, and bear in mind that some of the judging is on clutter, so I had to leave some in there!
When we moved in, there was paneling on the closet doors in the room! I couldn't stand to look at it, so we took the paneling off. One of the other lovely decorating features of the paneling is that it didn't go all the way to the ceiling, so they put patches on above the paneling. They did try to meet the two pieces of paneling, but sometimes it's skewed. Then they took a piece of trim and covered the seam, to look like some sophisticated picture molding.
What would be ideal for this room is some wainscoting. I would love to tear the paneling down and go for it. I'd also like to have some built in storage, since it IS a mud room. The problem with it now is that the bathroom is off of that room, so everybody has to walk through it to get to the bathroom. There is also an outside door in that room. This house is somewhat convoluted!
Anyway, I entered a contest for the America's Tackiest Room. Looking at some of the entries, I think there are some tackier rooms out there!! However, I do hope my room wins (I should have left the paneling on the doors)! Take a look and tell me what you think. Click here. Our entry is #238. Oh, and bear in mind that some of the judging is on clutter, so I had to leave some in there!
Friday, September 02, 2005
funky girl
I have been so affected by everything lately. I am in a perpetual funk, and I just can’t shake it. I mean, day-to-day I am fine, and probably people at work don’t even realize how sad I am. I am not usually a whiner (though I have plenty of other faults).
This hurricane aftermath is just so devastating for me. I go back and forth between thinking about how folks could possibly think they are “entitled” to big screen TVs and new Nikes, to remembering that I do not walk in their shoes, and I might just do the same if I were facing true desperation. I feel that as fellow children of God, we should help them, no questions asked, yet I ask the questions. I have this verse taped to my refrigerator:
You have heard that it was said, 'An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.' But I say to you, Do not resist one who is evil. But if any one strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also; and if any one would sue you and take your coat, let him have your cloak as well; and if any one forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles. Give to him who begs from you, and do not refuse him who would borrow from you.
I need to live this. They are begging, and I will not refuse.
***********
We have been approached with a business proposition. It could prove to be very lucrative, and help us to reach some of our goals around our property faster. However, as with all propositions, there is a down side, and we need to consider that. It has to do with more animals, which will undoubtedly be more blogging material. Potential good news for you! : )
***********
And then there is the whole matter of the big lake. Well, some decisions were made, and four sites were eliminated. The sites that will affect us were NOT eliminated. Actually, there were three sites (of the original nine) that would possibly impact us, and the one that would have the smallest potential for impact was eliminated. The one that is literally on top of our house is still being considered. We have a 2/5 chance of being underwater.
***********
I leave for my meeting in London in three weeks. I am not looking forward to going, and I hate flying. I leave on a Thursday pm, and I get home Monday pm. So no time to enjoy. I hope to see my friend Tracey while I am there. A lot of work between now and then…
I must unearth my passport this weekend. I have no idea where it is!
*********
Maybe I’ll find something to cheer me up this long weekend! The weather here is supposed to be gorgeous. I owe myself a nap in the hammock with a handsome guy. I have a couple of them around here to choose from.
This hurricane aftermath is just so devastating for me. I go back and forth between thinking about how folks could possibly think they are “entitled” to big screen TVs and new Nikes, to remembering that I do not walk in their shoes, and I might just do the same if I were facing true desperation. I feel that as fellow children of God, we should help them, no questions asked, yet I ask the questions. I have this verse taped to my refrigerator:
You have heard that it was said, 'An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.' But I say to you, Do not resist one who is evil. But if any one strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also; and if any one would sue you and take your coat, let him have your cloak as well; and if any one forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles. Give to him who begs from you, and do not refuse him who would borrow from you.
I need to live this. They are begging, and I will not refuse.
***********
We have been approached with a business proposition. It could prove to be very lucrative, and help us to reach some of our goals around our property faster. However, as with all propositions, there is a down side, and we need to consider that. It has to do with more animals, which will undoubtedly be more blogging material. Potential good news for you! : )
***********
And then there is the whole matter of the big lake. Well, some decisions were made, and four sites were eliminated. The sites that will affect us were NOT eliminated. Actually, there were three sites (of the original nine) that would possibly impact us, and the one that would have the smallest potential for impact was eliminated. The one that is literally on top of our house is still being considered. We have a 2/5 chance of being underwater.
***********
I leave for my meeting in London in three weeks. I am not looking forward to going, and I hate flying. I leave on a Thursday pm, and I get home Monday pm. So no time to enjoy. I hope to see my friend Tracey while I am there. A lot of work between now and then…
I must unearth my passport this weekend. I have no idea where it is!
*********
Maybe I’ll find something to cheer me up this long weekend! The weather here is supposed to be gorgeous. I owe myself a nap in the hammock with a handsome guy. I have a couple of them around here to choose from.
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