THE SAGA OF BLAZE: UPDATE

The Clearwater County Sheriff called Mike this morning to report on his contact with Blaze the Horse on our farm property. He said that he could get up to him with a bag of oats, but when he tried to put the halter on him, he wouldn't have it.

The sheriff estimates that Blaze is about 20. His teeth and his feet aren't in great shape because of neglect. We know he's been eating far too many sweets -- apples, plums, pears, etc., and we also know what that does to the digestion.

This isn't the end of the saga yet because when Blaze had had his fill of oats, he took off. The sheriff hopes he can place Blaze with a horse rescue operation. KW

. . . AND THE SAGA CONTINUES

The time change is always a challenge, and these days we complain about it. I fell asleep on the sofa Saturday evening and put myself to bed as Mike went around the house changing the clocks. As I snuggled into bed, I glanced at the time and was shocked to see that my clock read 8:45. Then I was wide awake for another hour.

Sunday (Nov. 3) we went to the farm, and it felt like we both worked hard. It was cold in the house but warmer than the weekend before, and in the afternoon the temp was 50. We were encouraged to see that the forecast for the next two weeks is warmer than last week. We decided not to drain the pipes at this time. (We are a bit paranoid about the plumbing, you know.)

Mike lit a fire in the fireplace and then headed down the road to light the slash pile where the road curves into the lane. Meanwhile, I began by baking a small batch of cookies (flourless peanut butter) in order to put more heat into the house.

Then the excitement began. The fire crept up the bank under the dead trees. Mike had a 15-gallon tank of water on the back of the 4-wheeler, but it fell off, and I wasn't much help in the lifting of it. That thing was heavy, and I couldn't get a grip. Once the tank was replaced, and Mike was once again reaching the smoldering fire, my next assignment was to stomp out the little flames here and there near the main fire, but Neighbor Pete happened by and advised me to let it burn itself out, assuring me that this would happen. We were surprised that the entire slash pile burned up, including several larger rotten logs.

Well, I have to tell you that Blaze the Horse is still moving about the farm. Mike and Bess went hunting in the afternoon, and there he was. Mike was grinning when he told me. I think he and Blaze have become friends -- sort of. The worst of it is the mess in the yard, but we do want what's best for Blaze, and it's not to be roaming around without care. Mike touched base with the sheriff Monday morning, and we haven't heard from him yet. So, the saga of Blaze the Horse continues.

While Mike and Bess were hunting, I made a batch of serviceberry jelly. Unfortunately, I forgot the lemon juice, but the jelly did set and all five jars sealed.

I'm not one who readily moves from one task to the next, but I had to keep moving, and with the long shadows growing longer, I headed out to feed the gopher holes while I still had daylight. I've researched the elimination of these critters, and you just have to stay on it. On our next trip, I will have a fresh batch of poison with me. I know -- it sounds terrible, but you should see what they're doing to our yard.

My next task was to put away the spooky decorations. Putting away is harder than getting it out. It's like a puzzle that fits into the boxes in just one way. But I got it done -- mostly.

As suppertime approached, I was tired. I really didn't want to fix supper, but I had to. In the end, we had seasoned chukar with mashed potatoes, mixed vegetables, a green salad, and rolls with fresh jelly. I made one of my favorite "go to" recipes for dessert -- fruit cocktail cake.

I  was really tired in the evening. After all, my inner clock knew it was an hour later than the clock said. Unfortunately my sleep was disturbed by a chirping smoke alarm in the vintage sewing room. We didn't have any 9 volt batteries, so we'll have to take care of it on the next trip. I'm sure it's still chirping away. KW

The old maple tree at dusk

HALLOWEEN PASSES QUIETLY -- AND THE END OF THE TAIL (TALE)

Arriving at the farm last Sunday (Oct. 27), we couldn't help but notice that Blaze the Horse was still visiting our yard. Mike even found that he had been in the barn, perhaps to get out of the weather. Clearly, Blaze had more than one point of access from the canyon. So, Mike called Farmer Kyle, who came over Monday morning just as we were getting ready to leave.

We didn't hear from Kyle again until Wednesday morning when he called Mike to suggest that we report the horse to the state brand inspector, which Mike did, requesting any help in removing the horse. The brand inspector's office evidently called the Clearwater County Sheriff, and in turn he called Mike. He said he likes horses and would take care of it tomorrow. Who knew it could be so easy? In the past, it has not been.

*****

Can you believe Halloween is over? I had plans. I was going to finish my Halloween afghan and set out more decorations. No use to think of that now. When Halloween is over, it's over. Out with the ghosts and goblins and ghouls. Back to the shed with the witches, bats, and Halloween fabrics. Now it's time to celebrate autumn with gratitude. Bring out the pumpkins, turkeys, and Pilgrims.

I'm most disappointed that I still haven't finished the Halloween afghan. I'm tired of storing it as an unfinished project. I'd like to put it away on a shelf like a regular blanket. This ripple pattern is simple enough but slow-going in single crochet -- or maybe it's just that my crochet hook isn't speedy. I also feel guilty if I just sit and crochet during the day. At any rate, I can't linger long over it because Christmas is coming. And we must keep in mind that Thanksgiving is late this year -- November 28 -- so we have no window between Thanksgiving Day and the first of December. Ina has realized this, too. She must get organized. KW

IT’S A HORSE!!!

The days here at the farm have been lovely. I especially enjoy the mornings. Outside in the quietude, I commune with the raised bed gardens and the wheat fields, and in the distance, I hear cattle lowing. And while it’s so quiet here now, I imagine the hustle and bustle of this place when it was a family farm. The ghosts rise up to do my bidding. Grandpa Jack is at the barn readying his machinery for harvest. Grandma Ina has bread baking in the oven and is cooking her first batch of Himalayan jelly with Aunt Shirley’s assistance. Of course, I can build the story any way I like. The ghosts evaporate all too soon anyway.

I was sitting at my “desk” Thursday afternoon where I look out at the barn, the pond, and the southwestern end of June’s field. There’s a draw in that field, as in most of our fields, and I happened to spy something dark and blockish-looking just visible over the rise. Then the block moved. I knew it wasn’t a deer. Probably that cow, I said to Mike.

Ripening grain

Several hours later, as I put supper on the table, I glanced out the window to see a horse at the corner of the barn. He was unconcerned, just munching the grass. And where was Bess? Dozing on the front porch, having had her exercise and her supper. When Mike went out, she noticed our guest and set up a ruckus, despite Mike’s efforts to quiet her. The horse was not put off at first and made a friendly overture, moving farther into the yard. We guessed that he was lonely and glad to see some folks, but realizing that Bess did not share his desire to make friends, he quickly moved on and out of sight.

He seemed to be a nice horse with a friendly spirit, not like the skittish ones we’ve had in the past. The man in the canyon said the horse isn’t his, and we believe him. We may, or may not, see that horse again. KW