Reflections

Hoofprints postscript

2011-11-08T22:42:00.003-07:00

One weekend in October, when the aspens were clad in golden splendor, we took the granite plaque and placed it over Billy's final resting place. The day was absolutely beautiful; the view out to the meadow clear and bright. My dear husband was the one behind this. He created and ordered it. I think it is only fitting that such a wonderful horse be commemorated with such a beautiful marker and I am so grateful to Gary for being so dear and thoughtful. He actually posted on facebook, " When I married my horse in 1983 I got the package deal--he came with a complimentary wife and two daughters. Little did I know how little I knew of horses or women, or how much I could love both. Billy--Bean, to me--became the arbiter of where we lived, what we drove, where we recreated, and where we shopped. And over the long years his horsey sense of humor, dappled belly, grumbling nicker, and steady dark-eyed gaze became ingrained in our lives. He brought a bit of Rohan into all of our lives...." And now he is gone and still, even 5 months later, we still shed many tears. His absence will always be present. His hoofprints will never fade. . .

Final Hoofprints

2011-08-16T14:07:00.000-07:00

These photos were taken a few days before Jess and I left for Sierra Fiddle Camp. We knew he would not be here when we returned. There really are no words to describe what a huge part of our lives this horse was. Looking back through all these posts, I see him woven throughout the fabric of our everyday. I still remind myself it's time to feed Billy lunch, as I have done for the past 13 years. I still hear his soft whinney in the mornings when I go out to the gazebo to sip my coffee. He was and will always be a beloved horse to each of us in this family. We miss him terribly. I am so grateful that we were able to bury his ashes up on the beautiful mountain on our land, where hopefully we will someday have a cabin. Gary is going to get a plaque made with his picture on it and some fitting words to put over his grave.

Hoofprints in the Sunset

2011-08-16T11:31:00.000-07:00

One late afternoon, in 2005, when the sky was very beautiful, I took these pictures with Jessica and Billy.

Hoofprints and Gary

2011-08-16T11:25:00.001-07:00

No matter what Gary was doing, if Billy was anywhere nearby, he would have to be a part of it.

I decided to insert this blog-entry from January, 2011. I think it gives an insight into the preparatory trauma we experienced months before we finally said goodbye.

I just talked with Stacey, my vet. She stopped by this afternoon to see how Billy is doing. He doesn't have long, I fear. She will drop off a different kind of medicine to manage the pain in his left knee tomorrow. She said that he may do ok for another month or so...but then, the day WILL come when he just won't be able to get up once he lies down. Bless his dear heart. He is still so alert. still whinneys when I go out to feed him...still relishes his organic apple or carrot before lunch. Oh, my gosh. How on earth can I even think about the inevitable. The pain deepens with every passing day, knowing that each day only brings us closer to his last. Nearly half my life he's shared. The great given, that which I love I must someday say good bye to, is always shoved aside, deep into the recesses of tomorrow. But tomorrow always comes. May God give me the strength.

McBean said...: I've been thinking about Billy Bob all day, strangely enough. He's a member of our family and so much a part of each of us. He's been through every season of my life and I can truthfully say there is not a time that I can remember where he wasn't part of what made life life. The season of goodbye is a time we can all safely dread, I think.

Hoofprints with Teona and Kaysee

2011-08-16T11:19:00.001-07:00

This one is my favorite. It was taken at Thanksgiving 2010 when T and K were here.

Miscellaneous Hoofprints with Jessica

2011-08-16T09:49:00.001-07:00

Sometime in 1990 when we were boarding the horses at Terese's

Riding with Marra

Watermelon...oh yummy!!
Thanksgiving 2010

Hoofprints in the Desert

2011-08-15T17:59:00.001-07:00

Driving was always a favorite...of Krista and of Billy. It was a sad day when I had to sell the cart. Billy could no longer be driven due to his ringbone so a man from Prescott bought it. I hope he had as much fun with it as we did.

Krista and Jessica

Jessica and I riding with a friend, Monica and her daughter out at Spur Cross in Cave Creek

Krista and Billy up on Lone Mountain

Teona and Kaysee on Billy, I on Fancy

Eryn and Krista

Eryn and I

Jessica and Krista

I love these black and white photos of Krista and Jess with the horses.

Hoofprints in Bath Water

2011-08-15T17:43:00.000-07:00

Billy always loved being wet...esp. in the heat of the desert.

We had to always tie him up or he would do his most favorite thing...roll in the dirt.

Hoofprints in Arizona

2011-08-15T17:38:00.000-07:00

After living at Tatum Park in Scottsdale for about 18 months, and boarding the horses up in Cave Creek, we decided to move away from HOAs and cul-de-sacs and buy a house on a dirt road on Windstone Trail in Cave Creek. Sounded and felt kind of wild, or wilder. They changed the city to Scottsdale a couple months after we moved there. Oh well. At least we tried. A neighbor let us keep the horses in their barn until Gary was able to build the "mare motel", a pretty more than adequate structure, esp. once the rubber mats were added (thanks to Krista).

Jessica with Grandma McCaleb

Gary and his dad, "Pop"

We woke up one morning to find buffalo in the back yard...escapees from a training facility a few blocks away. With a lot of effort, we were able to locate the owners and after corralling them in the one pen (apparently they like alfalfa hay), with tarps and much patience they were finally loaded in the stock trailer brought to rescue them from their own folly. Billy was SO curious!

Hoofprints in Tennessee

2011-08-15T17:13:00.002-07:00

Krista and Eryn took Billy and Fancy with them to Bryan College in Dayton Tennessee. They went there for their junior and senior years. The horses were boarded at a "nearby" stable. Billy was always low man on the totem-pole out in the pasture, but fared well enough.

Jessica on Bill when we went out for graduation.

Hoofprints Leaving Virginia

2011-08-15T08:52:00.002-07:00

This day was as foggy and sad as my heart. After Gary finished law school (graduating 8th in his class, despite full-time clerking for ACLJ and being on law review), we headed for Phoenix where he took a position with ACLJ. I could've stayed in Virginia forever. I loved the grass, the trees, the incredible ocean, and more than anything else, my two very special friends of the heart, Heidi Larum and Martha Lupton (who lived across the street.) But alas, women seldom get to choose the local where they spend their lives (if they are married anyway), so after I had a dream wherein Gary's boss, Jay S. asked him what he would think about Phoenix and 3 days later, he did just that, we headed off for the dread domain of heat and cactus, dust, desert and a huge loneliness that has lasted 13 years. This photo still brings melancholia to my spirit. I left behind more than I realized. I do not even remember the journey to Arizona. It was apparently uneventful.

Hoofprints and Cartwheel Prints

2011-08-15T08:38:00.001-07:00

Gary and me and Angus...in our back yard :-)

Krista taking Pastor Davey and family for a cart ride.

Krista and Johanna Ehlers, a dear friend from our home fellowship.

Krista, Eryn and BeBop

Thanks to all the experience that driving Billy gave her, Krista was able to pick up a gig driving a beautiful white carriage at a mall around Christmas time. Quite the privilege for her, and a lot of fun. This is the lady who owned the business. The play house in the background is the one Gary built and we brought all the way from Nutrioso.

In the pasture with Jessica and Elizabeth Larum

My sister Teona came to visit for a couple weeks and we gave her

the grand tour of historic Virginia...

starting with our front pasture and Billy :-).

In this last pic, check out wee Jessica to the right of Fancy.

Hoofprints in the Sand at Cape Henry

2011-08-15T08:09:00.001-07:00

Once a year, the powers that be open up the Cape Henry beach for equestrians, so Krista (I think Eryn was in California at the Master's College?) and I had the awesome experience of riding on the Virginia beach at sunset. I will never forget it.

Billy and me

When we lived in Oregon, I don't think we EVER went swimming because it was way too cold and way too wild, but the Virginia beach is totally user friendly. Oh, how I loved it. We only lived about 4 miles away, so we often went there. The waves were generally placid, as you can see. One our favorite places to go was Back Bay. Jessica actually found a huge conch there, even though shells were a novelty.

Hoofprints in the Virginia Pasture

2011-08-15T07:57:00.000-07:00

This is the pasture in front of our colonial style Virginia home. It was about

3 acres and even with 3 and 4 horses grazing all day, still had to be mowed with a riding mower.

In summer, yellow flowers vied for dominance.

If you look closely, you will see Heidi the cat...

I think it only really snowed once during our 3 years, but there was enough to go skiing in the back 300! It was SO beautiful. Jessica and I found a bush with prickly balls completely covered with hoar frost and kept them in the freezer for months just to periodically pull out and feel wonderment again.

Krista, even tho she did not especially like the cold, never let it prevent her from getting in her Billy time. She is wearing her Daddy's (ie:Bill's) old down jacket,

probably the warmest thing we owned.

Hoofprints in Virginia

2011-08-14T15:05:00.001-07:00

In August of 1996, we packed up 6 years of life in the White Mountains and moved across country to Virginia Beach so Gary could attend Law School at Regent University. We left pulling a 4 horse trailer (and 4 horses), (a canoe roped to the top) with a surburban that lost it's transmission in Knoxville, a white volvo, a Ryder truck with a flatbed carrying Jessica's playhouse, the horsecart, the wheelbarrow and various other "grapes of wrath" accoutrements and a smaller ryder towing the other Volvo. The trip took us 5 days and provided unceasing fodder for the truckers and their CB radios. Every night the horses were snuggly bedded down in a horse motel, while we found the cheapest motels we could. The first night, we arrived in Armadillo, Tx at 2:00 am and just slept in the field next to the horse motel. When we lost the transmission, we had to leave the Suburban behind and hooked the horse trailer to the smaller U-Haul, which had no trailer brakes OR light hookup. We were totally illegal for the last leg of the journey, both Krista and Eryn having had their license only a few months, but made it safely, despite Va Beach rush hour.

We started out with the canoe strapped to the top of the Volvo, but changed the next day at the horse motel. Kurt Johnson, a friend of the girls, came with us to give us an extra driver. He was great comic relief.

the smaller Ryder

We arrived late at night. An old friend from college and his wife helped us unload as much stuff as we dared. The next day greeted us with a beautiful pasture for the horses
and this quaint little barn.

It looks drastically better with this new coat of paint a few months later. Virginia is so hot and humid in the summer, each stall had a huge fan running all the time.

Jessica in the backyard.

dito

Looks like a lesson about to begin. Krista was a wonderful instructor, although Jessica always had a good "seat" (equestrian speak for good riding position).

Krista on Jasi and Jess on Bill...about to hit the trail to the back 300 (uninhabited acreage belonging to the city) that lay directly behind us, given a creek to cross, etc.

Hoofprints on the Mountain

2011-08-14T09:11:00.001-07:00

Krista and Billy in our mountain driveway

the "Fam" up near Bismark

Eryn on Bill, leading Jasi

Me and Billy by Bernie's enroute the high meadow

Jessica and Billy up by Bismark Lake

through our living room window...Krista and Billy

Up near the pipeline (WAY up on the mountain above the high meadow..)

we were snacking on almonds...yes, even the horses!

Jess and Marra...notice the bare feet!

Making use of the DeGraff's "corral"

Sometimes we had to improvise :-)

Taking the horses to the mountain was always an ordeal, having to haul water, etc.

but always worth the effort. We lived a good 4 hours away, in Nutrioso, but the Mountain has always had an irresistible draw for us, no matter how impractical.

Hoofprints in the White Mountains

2011-08-14T08:47:00.001-07:00

Billy doing what he was best at...driving

Angus waiting for his ride

Taking a dip in Roger's Reservoir

Krista and Billy with Jack in the foreground out in the back 40

Up on Terry Flat

Having fun with the Combs cousins

Taking Grandpa for a drive.

Jessica in the cart

Much of our life centered around the horses. And Billy was so easy going, loved kids, loved jumping, loved driving, loved water, and in general, seemed happiest when being used. One Christmas, Krista and I delivered cookies to neighbors far and wide...in the cart. What fun! I don't think anyone EVER came to visit that they weren't treated to a ride in that Amish cart.

Hoofprints Just Chillin' in Nutri

2011-08-09T18:10:00.001-07:00

Billy and Jasi...just chillin'

the whole menagerie: Billy, Krista, Lacy, Jasi, Eryn

the goats whose names I don't recall (one was the baby,

and the doe was virtually impossible to milk...it too 2 people, one

to hold her legs back, the other to milk. We soon gave up on the idea

of fresh milk in Dry Valley), Dumplin, Jack and Muffie.

Krista and Billy

Parade Hoofprints

2011-08-09T18:01:00.001-07:00

This was the one and only time Billy was in a parade. It was in Springerville-Eagar. He was always pretty steady, even in traffic. Having Dolly to bolster him probably helped. She was totally trepidation-proof.

Horse Trial Hoofprints

2011-08-09T14:26:00.006-07:00

I realize I already posted some of these pics of the St. John Horse Trials...they must be good!

Billy was not built to jump, but he was certainly born to.

He truly seemed to love it.

Krista and Billy came in 4th at the 3 day St. John's Horse Trials...pretty exciting...especially since, on one of his first attempts, Billy totally collapsed a 4 pole jump. But rather than freak, he just stood there in the rubble and calmly waited for deliverance. I was impressed.

Hoofprints on Escudilla Mountain

2011-08-05T17:33:00.003-07:00

One of our family's favorite places in all the world was Terry Flat and riding through the meadows leading up to the lookout on Escudilla Mtn. Here, Krista is on Billy and Eryn on Jasi.

Gary and Jessica, about age 2...and Billy, of course

Just below the lookout, which is as far as the horses could go.

Eryn and Krista riding double.

So hard to believe that much of the exquisite beauty we so loved

is now charred and black because of

human negligence and stupidity.

Hoofprints in the Snow

2011-08-04T14:08:00.003-07:00

Winter at 8000 feet can be quite brutal. Once, Gary had to rent a snowblower just to make Dry Valley accessible because we had over 4 feet of snow on the ground and couldn't make it out to the road. But no matter what the temperature, nothing deterred the girls from their daily ride. I have pictures to prove it!

Jessica on Dolly

Yes, that's actually me in the center on Lacy, braving the cold!!

Just imagine, sitting in that beautiful windowed living room, looking out to Escudilla, watching the blizzard and listening to the crackling fire in the Earth Stove...the sounds of Suzuki piano being practiced, a pot of soup brewing in the kitchen, a yummy book in the lap. Yes, there are many things I miss about Nutrioso...

Competition Hoofprints

2011-08-03T12:37:00.002-07:00

When the girls were in Pony Club, in Oregon, I had quite the lengthy conversation with Nancy Hart concerning the value of competing and whether or not it was something Krista and Eryn should do. Turns out, they did compete and many times...in at least 1000 horse shows, or so it seemed. We probably have at least 1000 hours of shows on family movie film. Sigh. Gary always referred to horse shows as watching cement set. Ah, but what did he know?

Krista, in these pics, dated July 18th, 1992, is competing at the St. Johns Horse Trials.

We always came prepared...here Jessica is seated on what was once MY potty-chair...and yes, 20 years later, it's still out in the garage awaiting the future visit of the grandsons.

Hoofprints #20 Krista

2011-08-01T22:00:00.000-07:00

Sunset...and the wonder of emerging womanhood...age 13

Bathing Billy for a show.

Betcha you can't find me

Reminding Billy how to be a driving horse.

Hoofprints with Jessica

2011-08-01T21:37:00.002-07:00

Jessica's first time on Billy

a couple months later

Nice day for a ride in the woods with big sisters!

Practicing on the horse Grandpa McCaleb made her for Christmas

Age 2...quite the accomplished rider!
...note the bicycle helmet.

Hoofprints in the Barn

2011-08-01T18:28:00.001-07:00

We moved to Dry Valley in Nutrioso in Jan.of 1980. The house we bought overlooked Escudilla Mtn.and was on 3.65 acres. One problem...it did not have a barn. So Gary built one. I was impressed. It had 4 large stalls, a tack room, breeze way and a hay loft. Amazing really. I think he totally designed it as well. Over the six years we lived there, it was home to not only Billy, but Lacy, Nikki (the Arabian filly Eryn traded her beloved Brigette for before we left Oregon), Jasi, (the mare she traded Nikki for), Rocky, a big white stupid and very mean horse Krista had to have and we eventually hauled him all the way to Virginia, a black milk goat, a little miniature horse named Dolly, an Angora goat named Lucy and her baby, Bo-Jangles. AND, it was in that barn that Fancy was born to Jasi on the coldest day in April of 1996, 3 months before we made the epic trip to Virginia. More on this later. .

Looking out from the living room to the pasture and beyond to Escudilla Mtn.

The pasture bounded by electric fence

which was only too often vandalized by
the local 200 member elk herd .

Hoofprints in Reserve, New Mexico May-Dec. 1989

2011-07-28T15:26:00.002-07:00

Krista, cousin Beckie and Eryn

Brumby-time

In May of 1989, we sold our dear little house in Tenmile and drove to Reserve, NM to our new "home"...a line shack at Pueblo Creek (the only place available for habitation Gary was able to find for us). He left BLM for the Forest Service and we had to rent for the first 6 months. I was pregnant with Jessica. I think the horses were the one thing that preserved our sanity, at least the girl's and mine. They were 12 at the time and deeply immersed in the saga of Snowy River (the movie) which they watched by night and lived by day. Jess was born in August (5 1/2 weeks early) and decided early on that she would make life even more miserable for all of us, being very colicky and in general, not exactly happy to be living in Reverse. These are the ONLY photos I have of Billy during that time.In mid-January, during a blizzard, the cowboy managing the ranch decided to evict us (we found out later, he was also managing a goodly sized marijuana farm in the back 40 and probably feared the girls would chance upon it on one of their Snowy river rides.

So it was that we ended up in Nutrioso, Az where we spent the next 6 years.

Hoofprints in Tenmile, Oregon

2011-07-27T19:20:00.001-07:00

It's strange to look back and realize how often Gary rode with the girls. And he ALWAYS rode Billy when he did. Here Krista is on Barkey (the black quarter-horse). We didn't have him long after he ran away with her and she fell off and broke her wrist.

Sometime during all these episodes, we purchased Nova, a thoroughbred. As I was tying him up short, as Emery had taught me, he freaked out, pulled back and caught my ring finger in the rope, completely severing the top from the first joint, leaving it barely attached. The people were gracious enough to load him back in their trailer, tear up the check and leave us to race to the hospital where an amazing surgeon shot a hyperdermic needle directly into the top of my finger, reattaching it, and it healed beautifully, all nerves and nail in tact. PTL!~

Hoofprints in the Cascades

2011-07-26T07:31:00.001-07:00

Clipping Billy with Smokey the cat supervising...

Yes, I do believe he is KISSING the horse!!

This was our last trip to the Cascades with the horses...Krista is riding Lacy, the sweetest horse EVER...she was Quarter-horse/Arabian. Eryn is on the infamous Bridgette, the orneriest horse EVER.

Hoofprints on the Beach

2011-07-25T18:57:00.002-07:00

Gary and me

Although we only lived about 90 minutes from Bandon by the Sea, Oregon, I remember taking Billy and Major only once and that was when my sister, Teona and family came to visit. I think it was a pretty big fiasco and didn't bear repeating. The funniest thing that happened that day was that Billy decided to suddenly drop to the sand and begin rolling, successfully dislodging my very unsuspecting sister. She wasn't hurt and we managed to get him back on his feet before any serious damage was done to the saddle. But let me just say, riding Billy was always an adventure.

Teona and me

Hoofprints in the Oregonian Snow

2011-07-22T13:54:00.001-07:00

As you can see, we did get snow in Oregon...not often, but wow was it ever beautiful. Billy's coat was like an Eskimos' and he never minded the cold, although I'm sure we must have blanketed them at night.

As you can tell in the second photo, Krista is on crutches. Here's what happened...coming back to the barn after brushing Billy in the pasture, Krista was sitting on Bill holding the brushes, while Eryn led him. They were near the creek bed and something moved, spooking Billy. As he darted to the side, she fell off and broke her femur, resulting in surgery, 3 long pins in her hip and another surgery a year later to remove them. A very sad tale indeed. But there you have it. He was not perfect afterall :-(

Hoofprints in the Tenmile Pasture

2011-07-20T09:44:00.001-07:00

This is my MOST favorite picture of me on this wonderful horse named Billy...We were taking bonefide lessons at this time from Nancy Hart (Pony Club guru, from whom we later purchased the 30 year old hackney-quarterhorse mare named Bridgett for Eryn)

and I actually look like I know what I'm doing :-)

Billy doing what he most loved doing...munching...

He did not have exclusive rights to the 6 acres of pasture, however...he shared it with 4 goats (the one here is Bonnie, a Saanen-Nubian cross) and 2 other horses. (above is Bridgett). The sticks in the foreground are actually blackberry bushes and in late August, they were loaded with blackberries, one of Billy's favorite delicacies. He always had purple lips in late summer. You can't hear it of course, but Bonnie wore a little Swiss bell and the sound of tinkling could always be heard out in the pasture.

We were actually in Oregon during a 10 year drought period, so contrary to expectation, it didn't rain the normal amount. But when it did, double rainbows were not all that uncommon.

Billy never minded the rain. He not only seemed to love it, but even more loved the mud it created for his famous mud baths. He was notorious for trying to look like a very happy pig!

Hoofprints with the Cousins

2011-07-19T12:46:00.001-07:00

Stagecoach in front yard 6/85

Gary with cousin Richard Murie. For perspective, just consider,

Richard is in the Air Force, has been married for many years

and has 3 beautiful little girls of his own.

the girls with cousin Gabriel Combs.

Krista, Gabe and Billy

Gary with Billy and Eryn on the lunge-line

Cape Sebastian, Oregon 6/86

Krista and Eryn LOVED their stick horses,
so creatively made by their Aunt Julie

(not once but twice!...they wore out the first ones).

We often had company visiting from Arizona. when the Murie grandparents would come, always bringing their huge fifth-wheel, they'd invariably bring one of the Murie cousins...this time Richard. Gabriel visited a couple of times, once with the fam and once or twice with Grandma Bailey. The horses, and Billy in particular were a major theme for any visit from ANYONE

(not every person was capable of mounting and staying mounted

on those wild and wonderful stick horses afterall!)

Hoofprints with Grandpa McCaleb

2011-07-14T18:38:00.004-07:00

From time to time, the grandparents would come up to Tenmile to visit. This time, dated 9/84, Grandpa McCaleb was enjoying himself immensely doing what I think he loved most, tending to horses and being with the grandkids. He was an excellent rider and very much liked to ride Billy.

Here he is in the "Governor's Troop" Pennsylvania National Guard at Gettysburg 1939

Pop is on "Ace High", the horse he rode after the war in Germany during the constabulary and had shipped back to the states.

Horse and place unknown, but probably during the constabulary days.

I know he loved coming to visit us on the farm, watching the girls grow up surrounded by goats and chickens, ducks and dogs, horses and cats. We always had a garden, did loads of canning, hiked a lot, rode more and lived very close to the earth.

Hoofprints in the yard

2011-07-13T12:57:00.001-07:00

Eryn and Krista riding their beloved Stick Horses

If the girls weren't riding their REAL horses, they were jumping rope fences with their stick horses or playing inside with their Breyer Horses. I remember one time stepping quietly into the living room and observing a very somber couple of girls being very serious and sad in their play (I think one of their horses had just gottten hurt or had died) I realized that a very heart-rending George Winston song was on, so I quickly changed it and suddenly, the horses were fine and all was well with their make-believe-world. Funny how deeply effected they have both always been by music.

Billy drinking from the "swimming pool" was just one of his antics. Once, when Gary was setting a fence post and had a wheel-barrow of wet cement ready, he looked around and Billy had slurped a huge mouthful and was about to come back for more! Another time, after we'd filled our little trailer with sticks from the windstorm, Billy decided he could help by systematically removing them one by one. He was SUCH a character.

Hoofprints by Lake Lucille in the Cascades

2011-07-12T10:03:00.001-07:00

We often took the horses to ride up in the forest. There were SO many places of real beauty in Oregon.

I must admit, I loved it, loved the life we had there more than anywhere since. Diamond Lake, Crater Lake, the Umpqua River, the Pacific Ocean all within 1 1/2 hour drive or less.And no matter which horses we had at any given time, Mr. Bill was ALWAYS with us, if any of them were.

Hoofprints in early Tenmile

2011-07-11T18:20:00.001-07:00

Eryn out in the pasture with Bill.

It's hard to believe the girls were so very little when we moved to Oregon. But they were obviously born to love horses. Looking at the album of Billy recently, we were struck by the time-warp effect of the photos...Billy never seemed to change, but the girls sure did. Thirty years is a long time...not only for horses but for little girls. We actually came to Oregon with 2 Morgans, one of which we acquired green-broke from Emery. More on that later. But we were able to take them just about every weekend up to some BLM land and ride double with the girls. We even started taking riding lessons in the big Douglas County arena from Nancy Hart, head of the the local Pony Club. I cannot ever admit how shocked I was when she told me, quite confidentially when Gary was at the other end of the arena: "your husband is a natural, you know", because , although his dad was in the mounted US Cavalry during WWII, he himself was never particularly taken with horses. (and I had grown up with them). Poor guy. Little did he realize exactly WHAT he was marrying into when he married me.

Hoofprints Deeply Etched in My Heart

2011-07-11T10:43:00.002-07:00

My narrative has become dry somehow...too factual and objective. I think I need to address what has transpired barely 17 days ago. Then perhaps all the in-between will be more meaningful.....................................................

"to Billy... Pain rends my heart. This morning we say goodbye. I am not there, neither is Jess, (Gary and the girls thought it best if we go to fiddle camp) but the reality of the huge emptiness awaiting me upon our return is quite nearly more than I can bear. I cried myself to sleep last night, as did Gary and Krista. We weep, yet in our anguish, each of us knows we cannot prolong this. Each day, each pain pierced step as you try to maneuver the 2" barrier from stall to corral where you have your special pea spot, it becomes more apparent this can't go on. Soon you will fall, or not be able to get up. The corral is deeply etched with the trails your hoof leaves as you drag your left fore with each step...and there are many craters, about 5' in diameter, evidence of your battle with gravity each morning trying to get up. Oh Billy, how we have loved you these 30 years. And frankly, you have been the perfect horse in most ways. Because I couldn't ride you the past 4 years with your ring-bone steadily worsening, I think what I will miss the most is your soft nicker standing there at the corner of the corral by the back fence, breakfast, noon, evening and the deep, rich, wonderful smell of you as I bury my face in your neck fur. Mary Mels Billy. This morning we say goodbye. You will go to sleep. We will weep and we'll weep a lot. But I know it's really for us that we weep. Not for you. For you, this is a mercy. Oh God, help us to FEEL this deep inside us. Surround, encapsulate the pain with the assurance that it is LOVE that dictates our actions. Give us the fortitude to get through this day and the next and the next without this beloved horse who has accompanied us through SO MANY years. We love you Billy. You have given us more than you know and each of us will carry with us memories etched and carved with countless episodes of Billy being Billy. And thank you Martha Graves, wherever you are. Could you possibly have known what that 18 month old colt was going to give to this once so fractured little family?
Billy has been the glue that helped put us back together. 30 years! Wow, we have been so blessed. Thank you, dear God, for the gift that has never stopped giving. And today, we give him back to you." 6/24/11.

Photos taken June 14, 2011

Hoofprints from Flagstaff to Oregon

2011-07-09T09:31:00.001-07:00

In January of 1983, we moved from Flagstaff to Tenmile, Oregon. Gary was no longer a forestry student pursuing his Master's at NAU but a bonefide BLM employee in Roseburg. We found a beautiful piece of property with 8 cross-fenced acres complete with pond, perennial creek, barn and a little doll house ( or so I thought...Having only been married to Gary for 6 months, I had not yet learned to value and appreciate his ability to appraise a situation and when he said the place needed a lot of work, I was unconcerned. How could we ever have known that given a little time, we would end up gutting the house, putting in insulation and new windows, and tongue in groove wainscotting, wall-papering, drilling a new well when the old one went dry, building a holding tank, putting in a new septic tank when the old one collapsed, etc?) The land was surrounded by ranch land and infinite acres to ride. Billy was more than happy to graze all day and munch blackberries when in season. We acquired some milk goats and chickens and in time, another horse. We had begun to home-school and life was good.

Hoofprints Ancestry

2011-07-07T16:50:00.001-07:00

Omar Sheriff, Grand National Champion as a 2 yr. old

I once asked Emery why they gelded Billy. His instantaneous response
"He wasn't stud quality!"
Since, in my eyes, Billy was everything beautiful any horse could represent, I was a bit taken aback. But as I look a bit closer at the only photo of his sire, Omar Sheriff, that I have, I must admit, he was probably right in his assessment. He did not mean to be cruel, just pointedly factual. Omar, as a 2 year old, took high point at the All American Horse Show, and this was among ALL breeds represented by 5 states... NV, CO, UT, WY, and ID. Billy took more after his mother, Beryl Belle, who was of the government breed Morgan.

A very early photo of Billy while still in American Fork, UT

Hoofprints...,along the Verde River

2011-07-06T13:18:00.001-07:00

One of the first excursions we took as a new little family (complete with horse of course, which Gary never formally adopted, but certainly would have if called upon) was to go camping somewhere along the Verde River with some friends, Vic and Sherrill. Billy was awesome, even despite the lunacy of a teenage target shooter across the river who inadvertently hit the horse trailer, but thankfully nothing else. The girls were rapidly falling in love with this big gentle colt, as were Gary and I. He was just always ready and willing to do most anything, although he definitely had a mind of his own, from the start.

Hoofprints in Training

2011-07-05T14:47:00.001-07:00

I compared Billy to a Brumby because as part of our training, Emery took us up in some of the red rock cliffs by Verde Valley School and took us down and by the time we emerged alive and well, I was as white as a sheet. Emery just chuckled and said "I just wanted you to see what this horse can do!" Without doubt, I never feared for the girl's safety from that point on.
Thinking back on some of the things Emery put him through, one thing we never did with Billy was pack, even though he would've been great at it. He was great at everything we asked of him. And that included loading in ANY trailer. Only one caution here...watch out once the door was open because Billy was not far behind. He knew that trailer meant two things...food and adventure and he was always up for both. Once, after Gary and I were married, we had the brilliant idea of turning the axle to lift the trailer, which often dragged on some of the roads we took it on. Problem was, it made the trailer about 3 feet off the ground. Yet, I have no doubt Billy would've at least tried to get in it had we asked him to :-) (yes, we made the trailer normal again).

Hoofprints across my heart...the beginning.

2011-07-05T09:40:00.000-07:00

The day was January 21, 1981. Crisp, cold and bright. We'd been waiting all morning, my 3 year old twins and I . And suddenly, there he was in all his 18 month glory…a Morgan colt out of the famous Omar Sheriff, and straight from American Fork, Utah. He was the anonymous gift of untold people from Page, Arizona where Bill Murie (my late husband) was first stationed as a DPS patrolman 5 years earlier, before being fatally injured on Nov. 19^th, 1980 enroute the DPS academy where he was to be a counselor for the upcoming class. Probably one of the greatest ironies of this gift is that the young horse’s registered name was “Mary Mels Billy”…in truth!

So began the saga of 30 years…as he stood there, a huge red, white and blue bow wrapped around his neck, ready to frolic across the pasture kindly offered by my neighbor across the road from Pine Del (Flagstaff) where we now lived. Several months later, I was able to take Billy down to the Verde Valley to be professionally trained by Emery Henderson. When he returned a year later, he could have been a Brumby in Snowy River, so capable and sure-footed he was! He had been taught to drive (pull a cart). And, among many other feats, would even stand motionless while a chain-saw (without chain of course) was started and rubbed all over his legs. He was basically fool-proof. Emery told me “this horse will never kick” and he never did.

...to be continued

Saying Goodbye

2011-06-13T15:08:00.000-07:00

Leaving Page late in the afternoon yesterday, I was struck with the irony that all these years my sister Teona has lived in this haunting land of sandstone and azure waters, it never crossed my radar that going up there just to chill and enjoy her and Kaysee's company was an end unto itself and something we both would've enjoyed utterly. But alas, Friday they will be leaving for New Jersey with their U-Haul and dreams of a new and happier life, a certainly a life of totally different vintage than they have known these past 11 years. I am very close to my sister. The thought of her living thousands of miles away is difficult to entertain. I admire her immensely. She has strength that eludes me at this stage of life. I pray that the perfect home will be found, that her new job will be even more than she anticipates and that friendships will emerge to fill the emptiness she will know all too soon. May the U-Haul hold up, may everything fit, may the plants survive, may you find someone to travel with you, may the weather hold, may you and Kaysee have the roadtrip of your lives, may angels surround you and protect you in all ways. I love you.

Afternoon reflections

2011-06-08T17:32:00.000-07:00

Sitting beneath the Chinese Elm gently (and not so gently) whipping around in the wind, my mind flits to the white mountains of once beautiful pristine Arizona where everything we knew and loved there has been ravaged by fire...still 0% uncontained, and it's been raging since May 29 when a campfire was left unattended. Our many friends there have been evacuated. The torment of the unknown hovers. 0 % uncontained. How can this be? I heard that the man in charge forbid water be extracted from Big Lake because of an endangered fish. Truly? Have we come to this? That human life and human homes are trumped by an endangered fish? The last I heard, they were trying to save Terry Flat where we used to ride the horses....that's the exquisite meadow at the foot of the climb to the lookout. My heart aches for those whose homes are in jeopardy, for the firefighters so hampered by wind, smoke and command. I pray for God to have mercy and grant that the winds cease their merciless onslaught and the fires be quelled. And I weep...that I must remember these things as lost.

2011-01-21T18:08:00.000-07:00

2011-01-10T12:29:00.000-07:00

From Sears Kay Ruin out by Seven Springs, to Hieroglyphic Spring in the Superstitions, to the marvelous place we call home, it was totally wonderful to reconnect with my sister Teona, her very delightful daughter (and my neice!) Kaysee, my brother Jim (all the way from San Diego) and last but not least, the cousin I had not seen in nearly 30 years, Shaun Holly. Time has such a way of tricking us into believing that it doesn't matter so much if we put off keeping in touch, neglect those little random acts of kindness, postpone sending that card, forget to make that call. And suddenly you realize that the months have past, the years flown and so much of what could have been, should have been, would have been isn't and each of us are the poorer because of it's absence. Looking at these photos and many others like them, I am also struck by the fact that with those we love, even despite the lapse of too much time, we can (and do) always reconnect somehow and in the connecting, find ourselves once again enriched beyond anyone's calculation, and part, deeply relishing the very precious time spent together.

November 16, 2010

2011-01-10T11:56:00.000-07:00

I love this photo of one of the roses in the bouquet Gary sent me in memorium of Bill's death, now 30 years ago. It symbolizes, first the shadows that engulfed my life, then the faint edges of newness, unfolding into the brilliant and sometimes transparent beauty of a life I could not have designed, complete with fragrance and colors both unexpected and unequivocally essential to the now I know and the tomorrow I await.

Archibald McTavish

2010-03-05T11:24:00.000-07:00

And so it is that Archie has bounced into our life with all his rambunctiousness and we are in the throws of full-blown puppydom. I call him my white knight...but what I really mean is my white night(mare) the mare being silent! He is adorable but infuriating, mostly house trained but not always, and of late, absolutely rebellious. When I sweetly call him to come, he just takes off for the far end of the yard. I can't tell you how many times I have been reduced to this pathetic woman racing through the house, around furniture over and over again until he either gets tired or Gary assists me in mad pursuit. Out in the yard it is totally ridiculous, so I have attached a 10 foot piece of nylon cord. Now at least, if I get within 9 feet of him, I have a chance to catch him.Yes, I know, there are more rational ways to deal with this situation..I've tried the treat thing...come to me and get a treat, but he's on to it now. Any ideas?

2010-01-29T18:53:00.000-07:00

Well, I decided, rather than wait for Madigan to be born, wait another week to go to Nashville, then spend a week there, THEN go pick my wee scottie puppy, that it would be far better to get the little thing NOW, have a week to bond with him, and do some training. I went to Buckeye this afternoon and now have this totally adorable Wheaton puppy in all his unspeakable cuteness alseep in his kennel for a short nap. Whew! He was crying incessantly until Jane went in and barked once. He completely got quiet and there has been not a peep since. I think she will be an excellent Nanny. Now the problem looms...what di we name him? Archie MacDonald? Boggle? Boggletavish? Tavish? Malcolm Tavish? Mungo (means "my wolf" in Gaelic)? You see, it's a problem. Any suggestions?

Stepping off the edge

2010-01-28T16:06:00.000-07:00

Today, I decided to step out of a very real comfort zone and go to a Toastmasters meeting. A good friend just joined last week. I will join next week. It's a most terrifying experience to be critiqued, to speak, often without making eye contact because people seem to be thinking about other things than what you are trying to say. But, I know that to submit myself to this kind of growing and expanding will only be of tremendous benefit. I can take the pain for it will yield lasting and very beneficial results. ( kind of like deep tissue massage) Can't wait till next week.

the work of Gedion

2009-11-30T22:10:00.000-07:00

September afternoon...reflections

2009-09-13T15:32:00.000-07:00

September afternoon
It's still hot here in Scottsdale....104 I think today...maybe hotter. and it's mid September. There is a breeze and a few high clouds. No rain. Everything is dry and parched. Most of the flowers have gone somewhere else. Even my garden dried up, despite lots of irrigating. Just too much heat for too many days. BUT life is good. I now await the coming of our first grandchild, sometime in January. Can't believe it really. But I have seen the ultrasound photos and know it's true. Eryn even felt the first little flutterings the other day. Gary is in Nashville helping them paint their condo. He'll be back in a couple days.

Meanwhile, I am reflecting on the very great probability that I am to write a book. I have to face reality however and I do understand that a book proposal must be created before anything else. Now for someone as spontaneous and without order as myself, that could prove a real trial. However, my friend Adele is deep into the process and nearly finished with her own book, so I KNOW it is possible. However, she is an engineer by trade and ultimately organized. That was definitely a huge bonus in her journey. But, I also KNOW it is time to begin. I feel the flutterings inside me of anticipation and hope that I will somehow be able to say what needs to be said in a way that will touch those whose hearts cry out and for whom there are no defined answers.

This morning in Austin

2009-05-13T21:29:00.000-07:00

Water, for an Arizonian means something totally different than water for a person from anywhere else (except maybe the Sahara). Given the resort setting of my kid's apartment complex and the temperature of the wind and water, the sound of the fountains spilling from pool to pool and my natural proclivity for being buoyant, looking up at the morning sky, billowy clouds whipping around, it was a very deep pleasure to be swimming at 7:00 am and absolutely no one else crazy enough to be there with me, in the water, (Jessica was actually sitting nearby, not participating in my silent hilarity), totally immersed in this incredibly sensual reality. Can words really convey the extent of my gladness to be thus engulfed in such absolute immediateness, such complete, unadulterated NOW...no yesterday, no tomorrow, just NOW? Then into the hot tub. Ah, can it possibly get any better? then back into the pool...more clouds, more wind in the palm trees, more freelance flirtations with exquisite non-compartmentalized reality. Ah. Yes. Me thinks I shall repeat this experience on the morrow.

Reflecting this April 14th

2009-04-14T14:04:00.000-07:00

This morning, I took a trip down memory lane, having to go to Mesa for a chiropractic appointment. (spent way too much time playing my violin for Easter service this weekend). I thought about going to the cemetery to visit family gravesites...going way back to my great grandfather but opted to drive past there and found myself parked along the curb of the vacant acre lot on Brown and 9th Pl. This was once the homestead where my dad grew up. It's been totally vacant for decades. Now, a sign saying "Future Home of an Assisted Living Facility" or something to that effect sits on the property. Across the street is the old Fitch homestead, with fields still under cultivation, as so much of Mesa was when I was growing up.
From there I went on to Stapley Rd and past the Church of the Redeemer,the church my parents helped build, physically and financially. It is also where I was first married in 1976, and attended my husband's funeral in 1980 (I and at least 700 law enforcement officers from all over the country.) The church looks unattended, excepted for the Christian school in the back. The citrus trees that used to don the yard are gone; the more recent palm trees quietly dying, it seems; weeds interspersed with the once verdant grass.
I continued on around on Dartmouth to the elementary school my sister and brother attended. At least half, if not more of the children were of Hispanic descent. Turning onto Hunt, I passed what used to be a beautiful half acre of pasture watered from the irrigation ditch along the edge. My horses and my dad's goats munched most contentedly for many years in that field. I retired my old 1953 Studebaker in that field for the entertainment of the goats who loved to jump up on it, then whip around and slid down the hood. Said pasture is a mass of weeds, broken fencing, trash.
Moving along, the house my parents lived in for 20+ years is nothing short of a catastrophe. I nearly cried. I've seen it in the not too distant past. Each time I've driven past, it seemed a little less cared about. This time it was horrendously neglected; the little flower pots beneath the windows, hanging loose or gone, the grass dying, trees unpruned, bars on windows, beautiful door replaced with a solid door, trash lying about.I was mortified. How amazing the transformation when a home is cared about and loved. My family was never far above a certain level of poverty due in part to my dad's poor health, but there was always an abundance of flowers, very green grass, a prolific grapefruit tree. It was such a cute place and my parents were so happy to have it. My mom actually had it paid off (a whopping $16,000) by the time she moved into assisted living in Utah in the late 80's..
Sigh. I felt somehow older and sadder, and at the same time, anxious to get home to my own funky older house (a fixer-upper when we bought it in 2001....and we're still fixing). But with my horses in the back yard almost, my wonderful garden, roses galore, along with pansies, geraniums, and petunias, mega shade trees and sweet front courtyard with crepe myrtles...along with all the delightful changes we have made inside...yeah, life is good and I am very grateful to have seen what I saw this morning. Because it has magnified my gratitude for what I call home this April 14, 2009.