A walk in the garden with God 

The Lady and the Cowboy

I am having second thoughts about being a senior citizen. If anyone knows where that fountain of youth is I wish they would let me know. Not that I want to be young again. Heavens no! Not for all the tea in China. Somewhere around 45 would be okay. It was right after that I started falling apart. Blood pressure went sky high, eyes that were already bad started getting worse, weight went even higher than it was, knees got suddenly very painful and stiff, just not what I had planned on when I thought of being middle-aged. Little did I realize this was as GOOD as it was going to be and would get a lot worse in a short time.

Why doesn't anyone tell you that when you are in your twenties? Oh right! I think someone did and I thought they were just whining. Well of course they were. Wait till you are told you are too young and too fat to have knees replaced but will be in a wheelchair in 10 years without them. I whined to. Actually I think I did more than whine, and still am. I always thought I would age gracefully.

I had visions of driving my Haflinger pony until I was at least 75 yrs. old. No one told me I wouldn't be able to lift the harness, let alone do all the grooming and clean hooves besides! Once you get all that done you must get the cart out, wipe the dust off, pull it down to the pony and then put him to it. That's the easy part. Now try taking those stiff, aching knees and actually climbing up into the cart. I was 60 when I threw in the towel. I gave that precious pony to my granddaughters along with the cart and harness. I want to stay as close to the ground as I can in case I have to meet it fast. Now I'm forced to watch others do what was my true passion in life. Riding and driving horses.

A few years before I retired from life I took my pony to the Haflinger Horse Show in Harrisburg, Pa. My family thought I was crazy and only my sister in law and a friend of mine went to see me. It was truly a day I will never forget. After a big dramatic catastrophe involving torn harness, a total stranger came up to me as I sat on a bale of straw bawling my eyes out. He said he was sorry I was having such a bad day. He was to. His cart never arrived and he couldn't show his pony either. He was entered in both the Ladies and Men's Pleasure Driving classes and now he didn't have a cart. Without hesitation I said, "Well for heavens sakes, take mine!!! It won't be doing me any good!" Wah Wah Wah! He said only if I would show his pony in the Ladies Cart Class. Well, the lady and the cowboy both got to show that day. He got a 5th and I got a 3rd. Not bad for an old lady on her last big adventure. I was delighted and he and I had a great time laughing about our dual win afterwards. I never saw him again but I the memory is sweet and so was he.

September Harvest 

When the Fair came to town

Each year as the summer slowly slipped away, a new scent filled the air. Anticipation and excitement stirred into a pot of savory, youthful glee sent a most delicious fragrance through the air that country youth everywhere can smell. The York Fair came to town each September and it was, indeed, a time of rejoicing. Every year we looked forward to buying a bunch of cotton candy and candy apples, going on scary rides like the caterpillar and the wild mouse, the hammer and of course the Ferris wheel.

I lived in the country, so to get there I had to get up really early and ride to York with my Daddy when he went to work. He would drop me off at my Aunt Emmy’s house. She and Uncle Curvin lived about a block from the Fair. It was a long, painful wait till 10:00 a.m. came and I was allowed to go to the Fair by myself and meet my girlfriend, Joan Abel. Think about it people. I was 9 years old and my parents left me not only cross the busiest street in town, but they left me go to the fair unattended except for another child who was a year older. My Daddy was at work and Mom was at home and didn’t have a phone. It was a different time. Children didn’t have to think about talking to strangers, being kidnapped or molested. Somehow we were kept safe, in a dome of protection, blissfully free to be who we were, children on one of life’s great adventures.

The Fair was the third best time of year, following closely behind Halloween and the best, Christmas. Easter wasn’t bad, but after the egg hunt and wearing your Easter clothes to Church it kind of fell off. Usually the air was cooler at this time of year, and you could smell the wood smoke in the air.

Just saying the Fair made you feel all tingly inside. The smells, sounds and sights were almost more than I could stand. This was the year my one room school teacher, Mrs. Herman had entered my pencil drawing of a Mocking Bird in the Fair. I couldn’t wait to go to the school exhibition hall to see if I had won anything. I didn’t expect to. There were always so many entries. It was a big deal to everyone to enter something at the Fair. I was impatient with Joan to get there. It seemed so far from where we had met. Our little legs were tired crossing that huge Fairground. As we entered I could feel my breath filling my lungs. I couldn’t breathe as we looked at all the exhibits. Finally, we came to the 4^th grade entries. My Mocking Bird was there, and hanging on one corner was a blue ribbon. I remember standing frozen in place for what seemed like hours as I stared at the shiny prize. I was stunned. Neither of us said a word. It was the first time I had ever won anything in my short little life. I wasn’t feeling proud or entitled. All I felt was numbness, the slow kind that creeps over you like fog over a slow moving stream. I had told myself that it was just a picture. I drew much better horses than birds. I guess I never entertained the thought that there was even a remote chance I’d win.

I could have left the Fair then. I didn’t need anything else. Joan didn’t say anything and we left the Hall to find a ride to get the Fair officially off the ground. It was the best Fair ever. The bright autumn sky was filled with promise and our $5.00 allowance seemed to last forever as we explored this exciting and strange world.

I never even thought about buying one of those Chameleons on a string, The ones that walked all over the man’s shirt as he trudged along with his big sign full of the crawling prisoners who were safety pinned to the sign. I always wanted one, but my Mom said as I was getting into the car with Daddy,” and don’t bring one of those dirty Chameleons home either!” I bought a whip instead. Something I came to regret when I jumped out from behind the outhouse cracking it and screaming at my brother Rod at the same time. He chased me all over the farm trying to get a hold of me or that whip. It must have been a pretty bad scare for him. As I lay in bed that night, I could finally laugh about it. His face was red with anger as he tried to grab the whip from my grubby little hands. No sense of humor. He never did have one, and I never learned. Like the time I got my aluminum saucer one Christmas for sledding down the hill behind the house. He asked me how it worked. What was I to do? He asked, so I had to show him. When he was sitting just right, I gave him a shove and spun him around. It was wonderful! Down he went, spinning out of control and going so fast I just knew he was going to go straight through the house. His voice had a tinny kind of sound to it, like he was screaming through a piece of rain gutter. I know now it was pure, unadulterated terror I was hearing. I know, because once he hit the bottom and was on his feet he was after me, and I heard the very same sound coming from my throat.

The Fair left town after a week, bringing to an end the fun we had. It would be back next year though, and I would be ready for it. Right now I had corn to shell for Halloween, my costume to get together, black cats and bats to cut out of construction paper and of course, we had to plan who we were going to take along trick or treating. But that story is for another time.

Great Gypsy Tea Gathering

Now I'm excited!!! Final preparations have been made for Prudence's 'Great Gypsy Tea Gathering' on Friday October 14, 05!!! We have a genuine Gypsy Vanner Horse coming to Prudence's Tea Room for all to admire and make friends with. He was imported this past Spring from Great Britain and was bred by REAL GYPSIES. He is a superior example of the love and care they put into breeding this rare breed of horse. Gypsies have always been know for the knowledge and expertise needed to breed horses of excellent conformation and stamina. They needed these qualities for them to pull the heavy caravans over endless miles of rough terrain. Valentino is a real charmer and as close as we will probably get to a really handsome Gypsy boy at this event. Unless you know of one who would want to come and be fawned over and admired by a group of wild, tea crazed women in loud and colorful costumes.

I have made arrangements for Genevieve, the Jingle Gypsy, to come and entertain us with dancing, singing and storytelling. She travels the country participating in Renaissance Fairs and other such things and will delight us with her wonderful tales of Gypsies and the dances they perform around the campfire. If the weather and the mood is just right, we may sit around a campfire in the woods after our meal to hear her stories and see her dance. She also does tattooing, ( henna) but that is only for the brave at heart.

I am ready to order the special Gypsy tea which I will be serving you and need a final count so I can order the tins of Gypsy Tea you will get to take home with you and enjoy, on cold Winter nights when the fire is burning brightly and the North wind is howling.

The cost for this very wonderful and special tea date at Prudence's Tea Room is $30.00 each. I'm sure you will agree it is something you won't want to miss. Spread the word and plan on coming for a great meal, entertainment and excitement. With all the news of high gas prices and terrible problems in the South caused by the weather, I think we could all use a day out to get our minds on something fun and out of the ordinary. Call or email me right away as I have quite a few reservations already.

A quiet corner to reflect on life 

Savannah goes to college

School is starting and kids are getting back again to the serious side of life. Learning how to do the things they will need when they are grown up. I just wish they would teach things like making the right decisions for my life, recognizing people who aren't good for me, having fun without breaking the law, treating others kindly and with compassion, finding a path that will use the talents I am personally blessed with, learning how to continue working with people who don't like me or don't accept my own individuality, how to forgive peoples shortcomings, appreciating differences in our beliefs and letting others have them, how to be satisfied with what we have, saying thank you for all our blessings. Of course we need math, english, and the rest, but life is so much more. If our parents weren't prepared to teach us these things how will we ever learn without suffering so many setbacks that we are beaten down before we even begin.

My granddaughter has gone off to college. She has concerns about living in a dorm with someone she doesn't know. Well, so does the other girl. She'll be fine because she is a friendly, sharing, compassionate young woman and was brought up with good morals and she knows about responsibility and teamwork. Both to herself and others. I have been so melancholly thinking about her growing up. She is the first of my grandchildren to leave the nest. I want her to succeed in everything she wants from life. I am a realist though. I know that can't always happen. It's so exciting watching her mature and grow. I hope all her dreams are worthy of her. She's pretty incredible, even if she weren't my grandchild. Good luck Savannah! My prayers are with you and angels are surrounding you wherever you go.

My son, preserve sound judgment and discernment, do not let them out of your sight; they will be life for you, an ornament to grace your neck. -- Proverbs 3:21-22