|10/24/2017 1:20:00 PM|
Bull by Bull
By Judy Bull Vernon - of whom I often write - was a gentleman, a scholar and an artist. Best of all he was a master farrier. When I look out to my barn I see his turn-of-the-century Hay Budden anvil sitting on the stump right where he last used it. Since his death in 2012, a number of shoers have asked if I ever plan to let his anvil go, to which I reply, "Lee Christensen has dibs on it when I croak." Until then, often times when I walk past it, I pick up the hammer and let it ring out again, as only a forged Hay Budden can.
It took me years to get the mileage sign on the Tumalo grade corrected: Based on the mileage sign just west of Cascade Village Shopping Center, mileage to Salem was off by four miles on the grade signage. Suffice it to say, I consider the correction to be my Central Oregon legacy.
All these terrible, terrible fires and disasters this summer and fall finally got me to create and post a list of what to take: critters and medicine.
Not long ago my sweet Pet Place Pepper dog died. The Pawnees would say that she has gone to the sky world. We took care of each other for four short, wonder-full years. Just us. Being a blue heeler, her favorite words were "horses" and "goats" because that always meant we were going out to the barn to tend to said horses and goats. In the days after she died I put the house "back together." It all looks very familiar and feels very lonely. Her ashes are out with her horses ... finally ... where she always wanted to be.
Truth be told, I'm pretty sure the soundtrack from Saturday Night Fever is going to be my go-to, music-wise, when I'm an old lady who needs cheering up. Its beat is simply irresistible.
I can't remember being more grossed out than when I opened up a U-stir jar of peanut butter ... ugh. I couldn't even begin to stir it, much less eat it. What a mess.
Cold, windy, or snowy weekends I often watch golf on TV. I like seeing the people and players in their short sleeves enjoying the warm weather, while I sit by the fire on a snowy Central Oregon afternoon. I even have a couple of favorite golfers. The announcers always speak so quietly and the spectators even seem to be able to clap quietly. Perfect napping background noise.
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