Category Archives: Life on the farm

Daily, weekly exploits of Six Meadow Farm

Horses-winning the game

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Watching Lauren compete at Zone Finals 2009. Pretty intense-with baby Riley Roo!

I started off as a young child, playing the game of horses.

It was an endless game for me.  I could come up with more combinations, more games, barrel racing, jumping, running the Derby.  As a child they were all games I could win.

In my teens, I had a top barrel horse.  But I did not compete him too often.  He was state champ one year when I was 15.  I did not like the anxiety and pressure of competition.  After that year, I seldom rode for ribbons again.

A few times in Florida, mostly because we had gotten Ally a top horse and she was too green for Ally to ride, I went in and showed the mare.  But mostly, I have choosen to sit on the sidelines and cheer on my kids.

It is hard to compete.  You do your best, you practice, you work, but things in the ring do not always go your way.  Even when you are a top rider on a top horse.  Our Olympic riders did not meet the expectations a lot of the country had for them.  They just did not get the rides they needed from the horses they had.

Lauren had two falls last week.  Mickey was jumping well, breathing well and Lauren was riding well,  except for the two jumps where she fell off.  A lot of you have had that perfect barrel run except for tipping a barrel.

It is frustrating, maddening and depressing, especially sometimes to be the parent of the child who is riding.  We all want our kids to be successful and yet, we know we cannot all bring home the blue ribbons.  Unless we are riding the leadline class and most of us outgrew that a long time ago.

Tonight I salute the parents of the athletes, riders. ballplayers, swimmers, whomever you may be.  I know how hard you try to do ever thing possible within your control to help your child be the best.  The hours spent learning to play the game (whatever it is), the time spent finding that right horse or equipment, then finding it again as your child moves on.  The delicate balance that must exist between the coach, the child and the parent.  Watch an episode of “Dance Moms”.  Why in the world would they train with that rude woman?  Because their kids win.  It is simply the most difficult thing I will do (we will do) to know how to support, challenge, promote and back-off from your athletic child.

It is not about money, or strength, or courage, most often it is about love and finding the balance to help your child succeed and keeping them in the game so that at the end of the day, they still can be happy when they do not take home the big trophy or win the big game.  Are they still happier on the back of a horse or out in the ball field than anywhere on earth?  Then you have given them the best chance you can to know and find happiness.  I salute all the parents tonight who wanted the big win so bad it almost made them ill but smiled and hugged their child as they came back to the dug-out after the last at bat.  You have given them the best opportunities that you possibly could.  They will be richer all their life for thess sorrows they face when “playing the game” (insert riding the horse or whatever is appropriate).

My Cats, My Dilemma

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Chloe

I was deathly allergic to cats growing up and my mother hated them so I never had one.  Occasionally, I would sneak a stray into the house but my tell-tale runny nose and swollen almost-shut eyes were a quick give-away to my parents.

Oddly, it was when my top-barrel horse, Brandy, colicked and died when I was in college, that I got my first cat.  A friend gave me a little black female.  I did not want a cat, I wanted my horse back.  Reluctantly, I accepted her gift but told her I wasn’t even going to name it-it could just be “Kitty Cat”.  She told me,  “you can’t call her that!” I compromised with “fine, I will call her Tiddy Tat” and I did.  She was affectionately known as “Tid” and I grew to love her dearly.  My allergies had backed off so that was okay.  I treated her like a dog, taking her in the car, back and forth from school in Fort Collins to my parent’s home in Denver.  She went on airplanes with me and moved from apartment to apartment as I started my career.

Additional cats came and went.  I occasionally spent a lot of money on cats, dabbling in breeding Persians, owning purebred Burmese and Balinese Cats.  I brought two cats from Florida to Texas but my newly rescued Doberman Abby killed them the first day home.  That was enough for me.  During the reign of Dobermans, Abby and Wally, we did not have cats.  When we moved to Wharton, a mama kitty showed up in our tack room and soon kittens followed.  They were wild cats.  It took a couple of years and a few generations of kittens to be able to handle them. 

I tried to round up each subsequent batch of kittens, get them inside, tame them and neuter them.  Many ran off, got hit on the road or died of natural causes.  In the past year or so, I have neutered maybe 12-15 cats which proved to be expensive and worthless.  Of those cats, two are left. All the others killed or murdered at my farm or on my road.

There are now maybe eight adult cats that are not neutered, two females and the rest males.  The two females are feral-wild and near impossible  to catch.  I should try harder but this routine of spending money, caring about them and having them die is taking its toll on me.

Riley with Chloe-she was patient enough for the roughest child

Chloe was a two-year old neutered female.  She was my favorite cat.  You have probably seen pictures of her in my grandchildren’s arms, riding along in the saddle with me or the kids.  She would jump from the fence posts into the saddle with you as if it were just as natural as the world for a cat to ride a horse.  She walked every night with the dogs and I to the back pasture. 

I  noticed she was gone Thursday, the first day we were gone to the show.  I hoped she would show up again.  Then we noticed all the cat food we left out on the front porch was disappearing.  Dead kittens were littering the lawn in mornings having been savaged the night before.  Lauren and I spotted large canine tracks in the arena that were roughly twice the size of our Doberman’s (she is a small dobie).

I was headed out last night to pick up yet another dead kitten from the pasture when the fence man stopped me.  He told me he had buried a dead female on Friday.  It had to have been Chloe.

I don’t know what to do.  I try to be the responsible owner and capture as many as I can and get them neutered.  My vet in Wharton has worked with me and given me discounts.  A spay-neuter place in Houston has been more affordable and I have tried to use them when I can.  Dr. Criner has offered to come do spays and neuters on my dining room table if I will help but I haven’t quite got up the desire to be that involved.

My problem is, the ones I tame, then take care of, inevitably are the ones that are killed.  If it is not this current pack of dogs, it is coyotes, the highway or the cats fighting one another.  I am emotionally flattened by the loss of my Chloe cat coupled with the sight of kitten corpses across my pasture.

I know I can’t save them all.  I cannot have them all inside either. I am just sad and without a plan as to how to proceed.  I will not have another cat like Chloe, maybe ever.  I love them and I cannot protect them.  I am at a loss.

Postscript- Just now coming into the house after feeding the horses, I found another young cat murdered by the fence. I am so tired.

Rainy Season

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Hoping this is a view that happens every 100 years!

I heard from my friend Gaylyn that this winter is supposed to be 33% wetter than in the last several years.  Some sort of El Nino effect that is supposed to play out across south Texas this year.

That will not work out for me.  I need the forecast to be updated and changed.  A long, wet winter will be difficult for us to get through.  I guess I should have caught on initially when we looked at the house and found it was in the 100-year flood plain, but then ever calculating my odds, I figured, once every hundred years, we should be fine.  The mortgage company made me buy flood insurance-again I should have figured there must have been some risk of flooding.  My house is raised about three feet off the ground.  If only I had been able to raise my barn, arena and pastures off the ground a few feet, we would be better off.  But you deal with what you have.

Yesterday as part of my work, I went on a tour of a refinery that is located close to my home.  While many things were interesting about this tour, I  was able to reflect my farm experiences on the experiences of the plant.  They showed us a retaining wall that was built two years ago when the refinery, also in the 100-year flood plain, flooded .  I had the same problem.  Then they discussed how last summer’s drought caused them to have extensive water worries.  They had to go to an area near my town of Wharton to divert water for the plant.  They didn’t have my growing hay concerns but lack of water at a plant that bases many of its processes on water was certainly a problem. It was redeeming in a way to see my petty farm issues played out on this giant canvas.

So, this winter is to be wet.  I jumped into action to do what I could, with limited resources, to make my horses and farm a little more friendly in the wet conditions.  I have had tractors and workmen on multiple projects this last week.  One is bringing in a gravel based sand that will raise the path from gate to arena, pasture to pasture and along the front fence line where water always pools.  Another is redoing part of our fence.  Initially, the posts were loosened by the flood waters.  Then the long, summer drought caused the earth to crack and the posts to lean.

The new posts up but no fencing yet. The new walkway between front and back pastures will help with the sucking mud of South Texas. The arena will be good once it is dragged and level.

Today, they are re-doing our backyard fence which keeps my dogs separated from the horses.  Mickey, and Leo before him, liked to hang his head over the back fence in hopes of getting some grass from the yard.  Of course, the dogs charge the fence and a lot of barking and running ensues.  The new fence will have wood across the top that the horses cannot bend.  The old fence was bent to about two and half feet high, we all know that Mickey could leap over that if he ever put his mind to it.

The projects will make my arena look nicer, provide a better base for jumping and working our horses, fix some dangerous situations and hopefully give us some walkways when the winter rains come.  Oh, Gaylyn, I hope you and the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration are wrong about the winter predictions, but if not, we are preparing the best we can.

Feather investigating the arena with no fence line. She asked if we were going to start doing dressage instead. No, Feather-the fence will be back.

Courage

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Its a blur-would you want to take the chance of falling from five-feet off the ground going 25 miles per hour?

The show has gone well.  Yesterday not as well as Thursday, but solid rides for Mick and Lauren.  Today, they headed into the 1.0 meter (approximately 3’1″) division called the “Low Adults”.  This is the division she will ride in the finals coming up in three weeks.  Lauren has traditionally had issues with this division.  They have successfully jumped 3’6″ inch courses for the last four years.  But when we go into the division and call it “the Lows” something psychologically comes over Lauren and she does not do as well.

Today maybe five jumps into the course, Mickey refused. He stopped and Lauren went off hard into the jump.  We have done this scene multiple times in the past.  Lauren came out of the ring, angry and embarrassed.  She was mad at Mickey but it was her approach to the jump that made him stop.  At this height, she needs to set up him for each jump or he is not going.

Lauren wanted to quit.  She said she was so tired and Mickey was worn out.  Probably so.  I told her that was fine but we would not come back to ride finals.  She needed to go back in the ring and try the 1.0 meter class again.  We could not give up, then come back in three weeks and think she was going be successful.  She did not like my answer.  Her trainer gave her some tough love.  He told her if she rode well, Mickey would jump well.   Neither Dev or I were giving her an easy way out.

To the degree I can understand this as I have never faced a three-foot jump, I get that galloping at high-speed toward a solid object on the back of horse is frightening.  Lauren has been thrown countless times.  Been hurt many times, as well.  I understand that giving up is easier than facing down her fear.

Dev and I looked around to find Lauren before her next class.  She had disappeared.  I was not convinced that she hadn’t gone back to stalls and given up.  Then I spotted her at the far end of the arena, she wasn’t happy but she was hanging in there.

I sat next to a dear friend who assured me Lauren would be okay.  I wasn’t so sure.  Neither was Lauren.  The first jump was good.  Mickey stopped and refused at the second jump but Lauren stayed on.  She got her crop, hit Mickey once to get his attention, circled around, sailed over the jump and finished her course.  Dev said that Mickey was jumping as well as he ever jumped and Lauren rode like a pro.

Facing down your fears, when you want to quit and give up takes courage.  Nothing about this sport is a given.  Equestrian sports with the strong connection between horse and rider are exceptionally difficult.  What other sport do you share with a thousand pound partner-counting on them to keep you safe?  Lauren showed courage (we kind of forced her into it) today and I couldn’t be prouder.

Back in Jumping

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First and Second to start out the show

Lauren and Mickey came roaring through the in-gate to start off their first round over fences.  Dev told them to trot around the arena first before starting the round, but Mickey had different ideas.  He came prancing and dancing down the line toward the first fence and just flowed on from there.  He cleared all the fences handily although it did look like he and Lauren struggled initially to get the communication going.  End of the first round, he was clear over all the jumps and off to the jump off.  They were two fences from winning when I saw Lauren appear to go sideways in the saddle.  Then it became obvious her saddle was slipping.  One fence shy of the finish line, Lauren hopped off before the saddle flipped over.

With all the weight fluctuations, it has been difficult to gage Mickey’s exact size.  Did he need the 46 or 48 inch girth with his new size? Lauren went with the 48 but it just wasn’t cranked tight enough once they got going.  She is lucky to have escaped a little embarrassed but no worse for wear.  She still pulled a second place ribbon for the class.

In their second class, with the saddle newly placed and cinched tightly, Mickey and Lauren were in it to win it.  And they did.  No other rider came close to their jump off time and they left with the blue ribbon.

Tomorrow will be a new day, the fences will be higher as they work toward the weekend.  I think Mickey is doing great.  Lauren seems to have a good feel for him.  Best part-not a single cough all day!

The Show Ring

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Lauren-First horse show 1999, Wickham Park, Florida

Lauren entered the show ring for her first time in the spring of 1999.  She was riding the small Shetland pony pictured above named Buckwheat.  As you can see from the picture it was not a classic horse show outfit but one hastily put together from what we had and what we were able to borrow.

Prior to my divorce, Ally had been taking riding lessons a prestigious hunter/jumper barn in Melbourne, Florida.  After the divorce, we did not have the money to continue training at that barn.  Instead, so that we all could ride I had purchased my first Florida horse, a beautiful black Thoroughbred cross mare named Silver. I never knew why she was called that.  Her papers went back to Man O’War so that was good enough for me.  We kept her at a county park which had boarding facilities.  Both Ally and Lauren started taking lessons with the resident trainer, Renee.  As a county facility this was not where the big hunter/jumper riders boarded their horses, but it had inexpensive stalls, multiple arenas, miles of trails to ride and cross-section of clientele.

When the first horse show was scheduled that spring, we got caught up in the excitement and both girls wanted to take part.  Trainer Renee said young Lauren could use her pony. Now take a good look at the picture.  One stirrup is literally tied on with hay string.  Lauren’s jacket is miles too big.  True horse show buffs out there know she did not have on the right riding pants, she wasn’t sporting jodhpurs or the required garters.  Her helmet was too big and her hair was a mess.  These all could be deductions from the judge’s score card.

Lauren got ready to go in the ring that day, to do a “walk only” class, meaning, all she had to do was walk her pony around, change directions when asked and line-up to be judged.  Actually, that is a lot for a young rider and it takes a good and patient pony to not go too fast (child falls off) or too slow (doesn’t move) neither of which will earn the blue ribbon.  Jordyn is not ready for a “walk only” class yet-or I don’t have the right pony so Lauren, at age six, was doing well.

As she entered the ring, I spotted Ally’s old trainer, Richard, from the high-dollar barn, sending three riders into the ring on little, fancy Welsh ponies.  They were all dressed appropriately, had ribbons in their hair, new tack and jackets that fit. I figured Lauren was going to be a little disappointed with the outcome of the class.

The group was put through their paces.  Lauren had her “game face” on and was working hard to execute exactly what the judge asked the group to do. The high-dollar ponies seemed a little more excitable and their little riders were having some issues getting them to stop, turn or just walk on. 

The placings were announced and Lauren won the class.  It was her first horse show and very first blue ribbon.  She had beaten all of Richard’s riders.  Ally and I also rode that day.  We all had fun, picked up some ribbons and caught the show bug.  We all wanted to do more.

The best part of the day was when the trainer, Richard, came and asked if he could buy Lauren’s ride of the day, Buckwheat.  He told me he had cash, right now, sell the pony and he would take it home.  Obviously, he wasn’t my pony to sell and Renee wasn’t interested.  I was amazed at his offer.  I guess Richard’s ponies were not earning the ribbons and Lauren’s pony did.  He must have figured he could clip and braid and make Buckwheat into a fancy pony.  At least one guaranteed to win for his demanding clients.

Since that day, Lauren and I have been in the same situation where we brought our horses to compete with well-bred “fancy” horses.  We have gotten better tack, learned to dress the part and tried to understand the rules of what the judge is looking for in each class.  We have never boarded at the prestigious barn.  My little place in Wharton is not in anyone’s category of fancy.  But it has worked for us.  Pretty well, in fact.

Tomorrow, after a five month hiatus, Lauren and Mickey will be back in the show ring.  I don’t know what will happen, if the little bay horse has recovered his health enough to be competitive with “fancy” horses.  But I got to tell you my money is on that same determined little girl who entered the ring and won a walk class on a pony named Buckwheat a long time ago.

Habits

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Kena and Lula have a habit of sleeping after dinner.

They say it takes three weeks to build a new habit.  I have pondered this in many situations over the years.  Like when I decided to quit eating red meat.  It was hard but after three weeks, it really didn’t matter. Of course, I just managed to do this for Lent, but still. Then there was when I started swimming laps again, it was so hard to get myself to the pool but  after going twice a week for three weeks it just kicked in.  It became easier.  It became a habit. 

I have now had my mom here for over three weeks.  My schedule and routine (of which I am little obsessive compulsive) had to change.  It was really hard for me.  To be able to get to my mom’s every day I could-which I have now decided is every day but Tuesdays (Lauren goes on Tuesdays) and at the best time for her and I (the hour right before dinner), I had to adjust my work hours (thank goodness for the ability to do so).  But I had the most difficulty with adjusting my sleep schedule so that I got up an hour earlier each day.  I now get up at 4:00 am.  Yes, every day because horses are creatures of habit and creatures of habit with bad stomachs that act up when not treated in a routine manner. So, I feed them and the rest of the animals at the same time every morning.   I do go back to sleep on the weekends-I am not crazy.

All and all, the new routine is working fine.  I actually wake up on my own, no alarms, at the appointed hour.  My internal clock has re-set.  The day moves along quickly and I am usually at my mom’s close to 4:00 pm.  It gives her something to count on that I will come most days before her dinner.  We can visit and then I can walk her to dinner being sure she is set up in her spot in the dining room.

We have a new routine at the barn as well with Mickey back in the work rotation.  On the days Lauren has school, we ride in the evening.  Saddling up everyone but Kid.  She works one horse and I, the other.  Whichever one I ride Lauren will get on at the end and do a little more fast work or jumping.  Then I get Mimi going, doing some ground work.  Some man pulled off the road in his truck last night and watched us work the horses.  We got that a lot when we first moved to our little farm.  I could just imagine the conversations in those trucks.  “Hey, have you seen them jumping horses?”  “Isn’t that something!” 

Last night it was probably perplexing to the watcher, as I was lunging Mimi, moving her around in a circle at a walk and a trot. I was really pushing her, trying to get her to break into a canter.  I am sure I was quite comical as viewed from the road.  I had my whip in one hand, the lunge line in the other and was walking along behind the pony urging her forward.  When the horse gets good at this, (as my old boy Cupid was) you could stand still in the center of the circle and the horse would walk, trot and canter at your bidding.  Mimi and I are not even close to that kind of effortless work.  I think I get as much exercise as she does.  As I pushed her along to try to get her moving faster, I had to move faster as well.  It was successful, she cantered for the first time, but I got dizzy-going round in circles and a real workout.

The horses, just like me, are getting used to the new routine.  For Feather and the Mimi, getting them to understand that there is work to be done most days, is important.  Some days we do not get much further than saddling and have them stand in the arena but it is all part of their education and I think their acceptance of work. Spontaneity is not my best attribute.  In three weeks, lacking any vet decreeing otherwise, Mickey will head back to the show ring.  We will see if everyone is settled in the routine by then.  I can’t wait to see how far little Mimi has come.

Nothing special but it was!

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It was a good weekend at Six Meadow Farm maybe not because we did anything special but because we did not.  It was a weekend for chores and horses and family.

Friday I got momma to the doctor for the first time in Texas and she was pronounced healthy and doing well except for needing to eat a little more.  We can work on that.    Then I picked up Jordyn for a sleepover.  I don’t often express it, but am so grateful and humbled to be able to share my life with my grandchildren.  I look forward to Jo’s visit all week-long. 

Friday night, Jordyn was determined to ride the new pony Mimi.  It had not worked out the week before with schedules so we were going to do it first thing this week.  Lauren and I saddled up Mimi, Mickey and Feather with Jordyn knowledgeably helping brush and groom. All the horses were a little fresh and I was skeptical about letting Jo get on Mimi.  Remember, this is a young, and for all intents and purposes, unbroken horse.  Mimi also has a history of dropping her riders to the ground.  But Jordyn was determined.  I was determined to hold on to Mimi no matter what.  We went to the mounting block and Jo climbed aboard.  For a moment, I thought we might be in trouble and then Mimi seemed to make her mind up that she would cooperate with Jordyn.  So, off we went.  Mimi was a trooper.  Jordyn was very proud of herself.  It was a little inspiring to watch them (or would be if Jo had any idea how fast Mimi could have put her on the ground).

After that, Jo rode (sat on while we walked around) both Mickey and Feather.  Big stuff.  Mickey and Feather worked well for Lauren.

My email pinged as we went in with word from University of California that Mickey does not have the Impressive disease-he is HYPP/NN.  Amazing news.  I am so grateful that we will not have to fight the HYPP battle.

Saturday we went to the Equestrian Center to take a saddle to be checked, take some shots for Snowboy (Dev will give later) and to watch a few rounds of the show.  It felt odd not to be able to be there with Mickey.  Hopefully, he will be back soon.  The high point for Jordyn was to be able to see and then meet part of the family that is related to Harry DeLeyer the owner of Snowman, for whom the book the Eighty Dollar Champion was written.  Snowman, The Cinderella Horse, (a children’s book about the same horse) is Jo’s favorite book.  She studiously shook hands with young AJ DeLeyer and seemed a little in awe.  AJ told us his grandfather would be coming to Houston in January to do a motivational speech.  Count the Davis’ in-I would love to meet this man who won the national championship on a horse he bought from the butcher for $80.

Later Lauren and I visited Nanny.  She was so excited to see us.  I just want to go to see her face light up.

We rode Mickey and Feather out on the hay road.  I don’t want to jinx myself but he did not cough once.  We had several good long trots.  It was a beautiful evening. 

Really glad I did not walk through this on my way to feed this morning!

This morning we got up to heavy fog with sun starting to peek through.  Nature had been busy overnight spinning webs that shone in the morning light. 

Today, as we started getting the horses ready to ride, everyone was acting goofy.  Feather has never done well with tying but today she reared multiple times and was just acting dumb.  Mickey and Mimi were not incredibly agreeable either.   I rode Feather (who is much easier to ride since all Dev’s and Lauren’s work).  We picked up the right lead (her tough one) the first time!  Lauren had a good solid ride on Mickey and the coughing was minimal.  Bravo!

We rounded out the morning with Lauren getting on Mimi and taking her on her first trot.  Mimi is doing very well.

I went and picked up my mom and she came to watch her Broncos play my Texans.  We figured out she had lived over 50 years in Denver so she was cheering on Denver as I cheered for the Texans.  Texans won-yeah!  Denver needs to knock off the whole trying to kill our quarterback thing.

I made an old recipe of my sister’s that mom seemed to really enjoy.  It was a nice change to have a good Sunday dinner.  Might want to make it our new traditions.  So good have her here, in my life.

Whirl Wind Updates

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As the hurricane pounds New Orleans (again) I am grateful it is not my home that is under siege.  Selfish, I know.  But oh, so true.

I have felt a little under siege anyway these past few weeks so know I can do without the added stress of a hurricane.  Here are some updates:

BrownDog-is ten days post-snake bite and is getting along pretty well.  The antibiotics are keeping infection at bay.

The top side of BD’s raw paw-the hidden side is worse.

However, the affected skin is peeling off and leaving her with raw open foot that nothing I apply seems to soothe.  Since spotting the cotton mouth last week and failing to kill it as I was too busy photographing it, we have not seen any more of the snake(s).  Lauren and I mowed lots of high grass last weekend constantly reminding each other to “keep the mower in front of you” so it would hit the snakes first.

Mickey received his last dose of vaccine for his pythium infection on Sunday.  He has not been doing as well since my last update.  The cough is back with a vengeance and we have not been able to accomplish much work.  He is revved up and wants to go, acting like a just broke two-year old, but when he does he is stopped by coughing spasms.  I am working on scheduling the next laryngoscope now.  I don’t know how this story is going to go, there is so much swelling in his airway, if that has not improved, well, I just don’t know.

Additionally, Texas has been hit hard with West Nile.  A person died of the virus in El Campo (our neighboring town and where Lauren went to high school).  So, Sunday we gave all the horses their vaccines for West Nile and all their other annual shots.  I have the vials to send up to Snowboy.  The mosquitoes are worse than I ever remember here.  We are spraying the horses three times a day and barely keeping them comfortable.  When I go out to feed in the dark of early morning, I am attacked.  If it were another part of the country I would be looking forward to a good frost, but last winter it didn’t frost even once.

Feather is continuing her training.  She and Lauren are working hard.  I have been out on Mick the last few nights, getting to watch the progress with the mare.  It seems her lines are straighter and she is jumping better.  She pulled a couple of flying lead changes after the jumps for Lauren for the first time.  She is athletic.  I am discovering more of her siblings on Facebook and it is fun to contrast and compare them.  Of course, she is the prettiest by far!

Finally, today is the day I leave for Denver.  Tomorrow Amber and I will pack all but traveling items in mom’s room.  Then Friday the movers will come and move the last pieces of furniture to Amber’s home.  It is sad to have it all come down to this.  I wish mom was better and could live out her days with her husband.  I am more than a little freaked out by the thoughts of everything that will happen over the next couple of days.  As I drove home last night, I thought, the next time I make this trek from Houston my mother will be with me.  It will be fine.  I know it will be.

Tree of Life

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My tree standing tall next to my tiny house.

There is-scratch that- was- a huge, old cottonwood tree in my backyard.  It was well over 50 feet high and had shaded my little green house for at least as many years.  It was a victim of last year’s drought.  I saw it starting to fail last summer.  My farrier, Roland, self-proclaimed tree lover (or maybe he was kidding when he said this-I can never tell with Roland) had warned me that the tree was dying.  I started watering it slowly through the nights of last summer’s endless drought. 

I anxiously awaited spring to see if the leaves would return.  Some of them did but not enough, not nearly enough.  I hoped to wait it out and continue to water it.  I hoped that more of the tree could be nurtured back to life.

Then last week’s storm came.  I did not want to repeat the fear of being in the house praying the tree would not topple on us.  Nor did I want to look out to see a huge limb lying on my power lines. 

Lauren laying on the roof trying to repair the damage from the last storm.

Or find out in the next downpour that there are holes in my roof and have Lauren re-enact the Wicked Witch of West pose while laying on the roof.

I am not going to miss these things about my tree.  But as the only tree in my backyard, it has provided shade for my dogs from the brutal Texas heat.  It held the swing that Jordyn first sat in as a baby wanting to go faster and higher even as a toddler.

Retrospectively, that’s actually when I should I have first questioned the integrity of the tree.  Lauren and I bought the baby swing-you know the one-it is blue, molded plastic and you can see it in eight out of ten yards in any neighborhood?  We got some rope and decided to hang it from a big branch of our backyard tree.  The branch was at least a foot wide and 20 or so feet long.  It looked like a great branch to use for Jo’s new swing.

We spent awhile throwing the ropes up over the branch, securing knots to the swing and preparing for Jordyn’s new toy.  We were really proud of ourselves.  We were new to the country and this was one of our first projects.  We were so excited to let the baby ride in the new swing.  Lauren decided to test it out.  She gently sat in the tiny seat and started swinging slowly back and forth. 

Then with a huge crack the giant limb broke off the tree.  Lauren and swing crashed to the earth.  The limb followed immediately behind and smacked Lauren in the head.  I think she was a little dazed.  Maybe confused.  Still I was glad she had tried it out instead of baby Jordyn.  I told her she should have had her riding helmet on.  Somehow she didn’t think to wear it while swinging in the backyard. 

So, we set out to rehang the swing from a different branch.  we checked this time to see there were bright green leaves on this branch.  It took us another hour to get the ropes up over the high branch and secured.

This time (can’t fool us twice) we got Lula, the dachshund, and put her in the swing.  When this was successful, we moved up to Corgi.  I would just like to point out, Sneaky was way less cooperative in this endeavor than Lula.  Sneaky weighed about 22 pounds then and so did Jordyn so we thought it was good experiment.  We never managed to get the either Doberman to sit in the swing.  Lauren also refused to get back in the swing.  But this time we must have picked well because all the grandkids have spent time in Granny’s swing under the shade of the old Cottonwood tree.

Today, in five hours, 50 years of growth and 50 feet of tree was destroyed. The swing will be thrown away.  No where to hang it now.  The tree is in the landfill and my checkbook is much lighter.  Perhaps the stump that is left will be a new stage for the kids to act on or a table for tea parties.  I will miss my tree.