Anyway, a gal just can’t refuse a present from her hubby, no matter how intimidating it may be. So I gamely let the Verizon employee lead me to a Smartphone said to be “extremely user friendly.” I found myself dreaming longingly of the days when all phones did was call people who cared as he proceeded to show me all the bells and whistles of what this contraption was capable. I smiled politely, trying to disguise my panicked deer in the headlights look, and nodded in appreciation as he pointed out the camera with video, flashlight, internet and a baffling sundry of contraptions and applications even a Swiss Army knife would be jealous of. He then punched buttons and chatted idly as he programmed the beast and after a swift swipe of hubby’s credit card, sent us along our merry way.

Now hubby, being the supportive guy he is, tried to clue me in on the ways of the Droid. Honestly, I really tried to make friends with The Beast. Perhaps I should have paid better attention at the store because truthfully, it took me less than a half day to beat that new phone into submission…locking its programming up tighter than a lariat on a cantankerous bull. My hubs snorted and giggled until he was promised a cell phone suppository. Then I, red-faced and apologetic, bit the bullet and returned The Beast to the phone geek store where they managed to fix my mess without laughing…until I walked out the door.

With a newfound determination and cowgirl spirit, I steeled my mind and gritted my teeth. Perhaps if I just tried a little harder, I could tame The Beast. I punched buttons and Googled. I App’d and I synced.  Low and behold, after a few wet saddle blankets, The Beast and I were loping a victory circle to the fluttering of Angry Birds. Now when the coyotes howl, I’ll answer with pride as I whip out The Beast….if it behaves, I might even buy it a real cell phone holder!

Another year is past – this one again with a mad glee that left me trying to catch the tail end of that rope rapidly escaping. The fall was kind to us, allowing us to work in our fields until past Thanksgiving and making us better prepared for the year to come. And as of early December, amazingly, no snow covers our ground. Worries of flooding and saturated fields have now been replaced by worries of drought. Yes, farmers are never happy with the weather. It’s either too hot or too cold, too wet or too dry. But the optimist in me does allow a few occasional days of ‘just right.’

November 23^rd was one of those perfect days – sunny, warm and a gentle breeze which caressed the golden grasses of the prairie. That day, I stepped outside the Sentinnel Butte Hall and breathed in the fresh badlands air, lifting my face to the sunshine and letting it soothe my anguished soul. The day would have been one my friend Sheila would have truly enjoyed and forsaken her painting for her other passion of creating equally gorgeous works of art in her landscaping around her studio. Perhaps, she would have convinced her lifelong partner Pete to join her in a horseback ride across the badlands they both loved dearly. Sheila illuminated everyone’s life with her smile and aura which emanated a radiance of perfect light. From her fingers, that perfect god-given light carried itself into her paintings with color and vibrancy. That perfect fall day was the day I and many others said goodbye to our friend Sheila killed tragically in an accident the week before.

A week later, I stood out under cloudy skies, wind driven snow pellets stung my cheeks. My herd encircled me, gently blowing their breaths into my nostrils and inhaling mine. I joined in their mutual grooming session, scratching their necks as they nuzzled upon each other in turn – one with the herd. Harley laid his cheek gently but firmly upon mine in understanding and with their help, I healed.

Days of perfection may be few and far between but Sheila and my horses taught me that even on the cloudiest day, the light can shine if you let it. Rather than worry what the upcoming year will bring, realize our future will be what we make of it – what we reach for. We are the ones who dictate our future as we let go of our past. What I want for myself for the upcoming year includes much time spent with friends, family and my horses. While I can’t control the weather, I can do my best by stepping up into the saddle and making a run for that perfect light. I hope you will join me and enjoy the sun as it sets upon the golden hillsides.

RIP Sheila Rieman ~ You will be missed

Splashdown!

My two-week Canadian trip included a pack trip into the Rockies with outfitters McKenzie’s Trails West. Riding a horse named Lefty and leading Tonto laden with packs, sent shivers up my spine caused not so much from the cool mountain air but from the realization I was traveling trails forged by historic trappers and outfitters of the late 1800’s.

I’m not quite grown up but I’m finally getting close. I tend to celebrate my birthdays quietly now as they fall on 9/11 but this year, the tenth anniversary of a very sad day, I will turn 50. This year is also the 20^th anniversary of my cancer survival so I intend to make it a great day! A 50^th   of course, requires a bit of retrospection. A wise person once told me “the day you stop learning is the day you die.” But what have I learned in a half century?

One of my most frustrating perspectives I have learned that you can’t teach common sense to those who have none and it seems that common sense is becoming a rarity in today’s society. True friends will stick by your side through thick and thin – those who don’t need to be culled like a mean bull. Family and friends are precious and should be held close and enemies should be held even closer.

I have learned that kids, horses and pets have more than one thing in common. If you brag them up, they are bound to turn right around and embarrass you. Hugs – whether they are from two or four-legged buddies are meant to be cherished each and every time. If you don’t want your words repeated – either keep them under your hat or utter them only to your best horse while riding alone on a long trail in the middle of nowhere.

I have found that photographing bears from the safety of your vehicle is great sport. However, the aging rails of a corral don’t offer the same comfort feeling while capturing grizzlies with my trusty Canon while on foot…alone…on a dusty trail…. in the Canadian Rockies.

I’ve learned good hair day usually only happens when you will be working in the field by yourself all day. If you are lonely and want company – skip cleaning your house one day.  But given the choice between a clean house and an enjoyable horseback ride – always pick the ride.

My busy summer taught me that even following the best of travels, home is always the best place to be. Yes, I’m not quite grown up yet but when I finally reach that stage of maturity I’ll let you know. In the meantime, keep smiling, keep riding and remember that life is short – ride your best horse first.

As hard as I tried to eat my way through the Czech, there was much more to experience than food upon the cobblestone streets of Plzen – a town founded in 1295. Dating back to the 13th century, the St. Bartholomew’s Church Gothic features dominate the town square where children chase pigeon’s and vendors set up booths in the shadows of its towering spire.

Ornately etched and painted building fronts led you to walk along the narrow streets just to admire their old world charm.

Many museums drew us in including one holding the town’s armory of blunderbusses and other medieval weapons and armor. We traveled to Prague via train and found more narrow streets filled with astounding architecture and gothic cathedrals high upon a hillside overlooking the city.

Tourism aside, we got down to the real reason for our travel abroad. My husband Steve is an Assistant National Junior Pistol Coach for USA Shooting and he, along with 2 other coaches, brought a team of shooters along to compete in the International Meeting of the Shooting Hopes competition in Plzen. Competitors from 24 nations attended this match – a fine melting pot of some of the best junior shooters training for future Olympic dreams. Accompanying us were seven pistol shooters including Sturgis, SD native Shelby Cammack, Alana Townsend (Kalispell, MT), Kylie Gagnon (Bozeman, MT), Taylor Gallegos (Prosper, TX), Starlin Shi (Potomac, MD) Matt Pueppke (Amenia, ND) and Alexander Chichkov (Temple Terrace, FL). Five rifle shooters also were part of the team – Abagail Stanec (Wadsworth, OH), Daniel Hermsmeier (Chesterfield, MO), Ryan Anderson (Great Falls, VA) Samuel Muegge (Bolig, TX), Michael Liuzza (New Orleans, LA). Our kids did us proud – several shot their personal best scores. Muegge brought home a bronze medal and Shi placed 6th overall in 25 Meter Sport Pistol.

I’m proud of the way our team conducted themselves on and off the range as representatives of the United States and found that these shooters possess the same dedication, honesty and concentration skills as rodeo kids. Both sports teach these kids life skills and experiences that will take them far. Participating in a foreign country broadens their horizons even further to a whole new realm of life beyond the good old USA.

Home may be sweet and the equine box comfortable, but stepping out for an occasional excursion to experience new flavors such as competitive shooting and that delightful Czech cuisine is something I hope to partake of again. In the meantime, does anyone have a good Czech sauerkraut recipe?!

I was watching the horses running in the pasture just the other morning. Harley, in the lead, went charging through a puddle making a direct hit in the middle – water spraying in a wide arc around his equally splashy looking coat. Eddie and Zippy, decided to not play follow the leader and took a quick abortive move to the left around the water hazard. I’ve found that Harley’s fascination with water happens under saddle also. Each and every puddle we ride through has to be checked for water taste quality and also splash performance. I’m not sure if I want to attempt deep water crossings on him. I know I will have no problems with him entering the river but I may never get him back out without some horseplay involved and me getting wet!

Someone asked me in Mid-May if I would be going riding over Memorial Day weekend. I never plan anything because it always rains plus we are normally still finishing up our fieldwork. True to form, a three-inch downpour put a screeching halt to our already rain delayed farming plans and one week later – we still have half of our crop to plant. But one hates to complain too much since we are not in the midst of what will probably be a summer of flooding for those along the Missouri River. My brother-in-law, who resides in Bismarck, already has moved his belongings out of his ground level apartment now surrounded by 4’ dikes. Minot and the surrounding towns battled the Souris River flooding and the Little Missouri swamped my favorite riding area in the ND Badlands. The word is that the highly erosive badland terrain is slumping severely and several roads have been closed until repairs can be made. Up north, Devils Lake is consuming more farm acres and farmsteads than one ever thought possible…and the potential threat of it breaking out along the Tolna Coulee has many downstream people justifiably concerned.

Even with the tractors stopped, we were able to keep working at our new drain tile business. We spent the past two days installing drain tile in my buddy Mason’s indoor riding arena. While the mud and water hazards inside made for a great Extreme Trail Course, Mason’s son who trains horses for a living found it extremely difficult to ride without getting stuck in the mire. I even almost lost my boots while trying to take a short cut across the wet area of the arena. With my son manning the backhoe digging trenches, we worked quickly to install the tile before the channels filled with water. Mason can now boast he has a “fountain” made by the sump pump spouting water out of the arena and hopefully the ground will soon dry enough for training to resume.

Yes, ND has turned into its own Waterworld and we all are developing webbed feet but the grass is lush and green and the sun is finally shining here at Rushridge. We farmers have our own fountain of eternal hope – but even that needs dry weather to flourish lately. But in the meantime, I’ll follow Harley’s lead and go splashing through the puddles because “Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass. It’s about learning to dance in the rain.”

The flurry of mud coupled with several late season snowstorms evoked the spring cleaning binge in me this year. I definitely overachieved and reached the obsessed status according to my hubby.  It started with a spilled cup of coffee on my semi-decrepit carpet. Reluctant to get the shampooer out again, I decided it was past due time to replace the worn flooring. Of course, this brought me to examine my walls and since I am a very sloppy painter, I decided that I should repaint the walls first so that the worry of messing up new carpet wouldn’t be an issue.

I love the openness of my home with a walk-through design from kitchen, dining to living room. The issue is – once you start painting one room, the open design leads you to have to continue on throughout the entire area. So back to the hardware store I went for more paint. While there, I remembered my promise the previous year that I would repaint the bedrooms in the winter while I had time. So even more paint was ordered and mixed and applied until the entire upstairs walls gleamed …and my arms protested their abuse. Of course, now the bedroom carpet looked extremely shabby next to new paint and hallway carpet. Sure glad my hubby only rolled his eyes when I said we needed new flooring in the bedrooms also!

Then my eyes were drawn to the aged kitchen cabinets. Sighing, as my arms protested yet another job, I picked up the sandpaper and started to refinish the fronts. Freshly stained and varnished, my cabinets were gleaming better than they had ever before. I was done I thought…until I gazed at my laundry and bathroom cabinets….back to work!

I learned this spring that house projects are like horse training – you must quit at a good point. Whether my house is at good point or not, the white flag is out! Spring sunshine is drawing me back outside to my horses who have been neglected for three weeks. My paint brush has now been exchanged for a curry comb and I am loving every second of their hair, mud and filth. I even think my hubby (or his checkbook) is grateful that my obsessions are officially back on track with horseback riding and training Harley…until he gets the fuel bill for the rides I plan to undertake!

Past milestone birthdays for me have been rather tragic and traumatic – on my 30^th birthday I was bald from chemotherapy. My 40^th brought the tragic event of 9/11/2001, so this year everyone had better ride for the hills just in case Dawn’s magical jinxed touch continues! But the experts say the “third time is the charm” and I’m going to do everything I can to help this project along. Of course, I have been known to use just about anything for an excuse to go riding so this is as good as any!!

Riding the badlands is always top on my list of planned rides, but this gal is going to venture a bit further this summer. I’ll be heading back to the Canadian Rockies for a six-day pack trip with McKenzie’s Trail West, Cline River, AB. My guide, Ron grew up in these mountains with his family’s outfitting business. Ron guided his first fishing trips at an age that most kids weren’t allowed to cross the street alone. Because of his familiarity with the area, I’m sure he will show me a side of the Rockies few get to experience. There’s nothing better than fresh mountain air, wildlife (barring bear encounters of course!) and hours of horseback riding through and pine forests along mountain streams to make a gal all giddy. After the pack trip, we’ll meet Ron’s wife Laurie at the ranch for a weekend Rendezvous with all of our cowboy friends for a weekend of music, fine food and adventure. We’re actually looking for a few partners in boots to join us on our adventure so if you want to come along for some gorgeous mountain views, turquoise blue lakes, great riding and company (ahem….including yours truly) give me a shout!

The Lord willing and the creek don’t rise, we’re going to have a fabulous spring, summer and fall of riding. I’ve whispered in Harley’s ear about the great rides forthcoming and being a young kid, he’s game for anything….and I think he and I are going to enjoy a good case of spring fever all year long as we ride “Into the Sunset.”

Roy has many memories, both good and bad. But what sticks out for him is the people that have touched his life. This wise man states, “I have been lucky! I’ve been lucky to know these people. It gave me a good impression of humanity – the vast majority of people have been good!” Perhaps a person doesn’t think about it at the time but later on, you start realizing what certain special people have done for you.

Roy’s father died when he was 12 – quite a blow for a young child who was quickly forced to grow up. The day after the funeral, Roy was back at work on the family farm driving his team of four horses on the binder, “The horses were always rubbing their bridles off and I probably didn’t have the chin strap tight enough. I wasn’t very experienced although I had been doing it for quite awhile. The horses spooked at a loud noise and took off. One horse had his bridle off – and I couldn’t stop him. We went out into the quarter section of oats – oh boy, that was just a payoff for me on a Monday morning. The horses stopped by themselves, they weren’t runaways but it added insult to injury of losing my Dad.”

Good memories at this time are of a horse named Polly given to Roy by Sherman Pinkham and riding herd on Pinkham’s cattle. He also enjoys reminiscing about his travels across the states at a time when few journeyed out of state. Young adulthood showed him the repeal of the Prohibition and gave him the opportunity to serve beer as a pool hall owner. Living through the Dirty Thirties with the drought and Great Depression left a lasting impression on the young man. The World’s Fair “A Century of Progress” at Chicago intrigued Roy and his brother John where they visited the GM display with the first diesel engines.

Attending dances with big band orchestras, flappers and small local talent to the tunes of the Charleston and other lively music was the favorite way to pass time. Roy’s father even hosted a few dances of his own in the hay mow over a 32’x 80’ barn built in 1904. The piano, borrowed from the church, was hauled by horse drawn wagon and then hoisted into the mow using the hay slings pulled by horses. “The Nels Johnson family gave demonstrations of their native Danish dancing despite the rough floor. That rough floor didn’t stop the people – they had a ball!”

Perhaps the greatest memory is of his wife Dacotah who he met for the first time at a basketball game. The friendship blossomed quickly and grew into a marriage that lasted over 72 years. Roy relates, “When you lose a parent like I did, I was looking for friendship. When I met Dacotah – it was a buddy deal. We liked a lot of the same things. We had a lot of the same ideas – we liked sports, we liked food. There were very few things we disagreed on. I think my longevity is due in part to our diet, Dacotah was a wonderful cook and we ate the proper things, but I think the buddy deal of being contented (with Dacotah) is another thing.”

Roy has met many people and done many things throughout his 96 years. “You have to look back and see where all these people have helped you in life. And I am glad I can remember it, that I can remember and give them credit for this.”

I am honored Roy chose me to help write his stories so they may be shared and remembered throughout the years. While he gives thanks to all who have helped him in his life and considers himself lucky, I consider myself even luckier for knowing Roy, a special man who has touched many lives in his 96 years.

Being vertically challenged, Lexie doesn’t negotiate the deep snow very well….her size also makes her the perfect coyote snack so outside trips were closely chaperoned by yours truly. Small of stature, Lexie is large in expression and self confidence and gave us many giggles while she was visiting. She loved to watch the deer from our window and never missed an opportunity to make herself a “Big Dog” by taking a dash through the snow in pursuit of Rudolph….with me in hot pursuit to catch her. Enjoy my tale of my early Christmas Morning Chaperoned Lexie potty break…and sing along to the tune of Jingle Bells!

Lexie’s Christmas (Sung to the tune of  Jingle Bells )

Dashing through the snow
In clogs and my pj’s
O’er the snowbanks  I go
Chasing my sister’s dog
Lexie’s after Rudolph
A thousand times her size
If she ever catches up
It’ll be to her demise

Oh, Christmas Morn,  2 am
Santa thinks I’m nuts
Bare legs flying through deep cold snow
In quest of that dang dog
Christmas Morn, 2 am
Lexie’s having fun
I’m screaming “STOP RIGHT NOW!”
She says catch me if you can!

It started innocently
When  Lexie had to pee
But as she finished her little job
She spotted  Rudolph’s nose
At first she stopped and stared
I said a silent prayer
Just as I grabbed for her
That damn dog took off!

Oh, Christmas Morn,  2 am
Santa thinks I’m nuts
Bare legs flying through deep cold snow
In quest of that dang dog
Christmas Morn, 2 am
Lexie’s having fun
I’m screaming “STOP RIGHT NOW!”
She says catch me if you can!

Oh, Christmas Morn,  2 am
Santa thinks I’m nuts
Bare legs flying through deep cold snow
In quest of that dang dog
Christmas Morn, 2 am
Lexie’s having fun
I’m screaming “STOP RIGHT NOW!”
She says catch me if you can!

Before you feel too sorry for me, I also had other more important things to do – ride Harley after he got home from training with Blair Wittnebel, Watertown, SD. Blair loved my Spanish Mustang and said he is going to make a mighty fine horse! Harley showed a great love for herd work – pinning his ears and biting at the calves when moving them at the local stockyards. I wasn’t surprised as he has been caught chasing the poor deer and cats trying to cut through our pasture on more than one occasion! An eager learner – Harley also shows great promise as a trail horse as he took Blair up and down “Some really steep narrow places” along with crossing creeks and other obstacles without fear or hesitation. Hopefully his rider (me) will be able to do the same this coming year as she hasn’t shown the same boldness when confronted with scary spots!

Harley came home just as the weather turned nasty but we’ve managed to fit in a few rides on the rare nice days between snowstorms. I quickly found that riding Harley is like eating chocolate – you can’t get enough! We played at this riding game in the freshly fallen snow and enjoyed renewing our partnership. I found it amazing at how much he learned in just 30 days under saddle as he responded to my leg cues and light rein commands. But as the snow fell and the temperatures dropped, I finally admitted temporary defeat; but my saddle and bridle stowed inside the garage to stay warm just in case of a nice day.

Upon the Advent of December, it was time to prepare for Christmas. Unfortunately, the electrical elves decided to play a few nasty games with me – the majority of my 1-yr. old outdoor lights refused to light. After purchasing new lights, I bundled myself in insulated covies, wool hat and gloves and plodded my way to the house with the ladder.  As the horses curiously watched from the corral, slippery snow underfoot and luckily no falls after several hours of cautious ladder maneuvers, my home was twinkling with Christmas cheer. Finally inside with the thermostat set on high, I sat under a blanket to thaw and enjoy the glow….just in time to see the outside world go black! The evil elves were at it again!

Too cold to care, I fretted and fumed all evening about the time wasted and the possibility of frostbite for nothing. But with the new morning dawning, my resolve (or was it stubbornness?) heightened – I once again put on my winter survival gear and headed back outside.  A bad string of lights with a life expectancy of 10 minutes was the culprit. Once again, up and down the ladder I went, replacing the offending string with numb fingers. Finally, the house all aglow, I stowed my ladder. But low and behold, before I could even enter the house, the evil elves snickered with glee – my lights were dark once again.

How could something work and then die so quickly? Christmas spirit dashed, I cursed the cheaply made products of the world and started checking the lights once again to no avail….even changing outlets just in case but the world was still dark. The Grinch had stolen Christmas from my Faughtville abode, and admitting defeat, I went into the silent and dark house to thaw and chill and pout. Hmmm – Silent and dark? The light bulbs in my dim little head glowed brightly as I remembered the phone call the previous night….from the electric company warning of a planned outage for repairs! My hand smacked my forehead as the Grinch and evil elves snuck around the corner…Chuckling with glee. Yes, the lights were off and nobody sane was home at the Faught Farm.

Remember that Christmas is not about the lights you string or the presents you receive. Hug your horses and hold your family and friends near. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all!