Freezing, Fevers, and Fillys

Despite several requests that I unearth the aforementioned picture from my wedding reception, I am still deciding how much I want to put myself through the agony and embarrassment. Since I got married back in the days when not all photographers used digital cameras, and one actually had hard copies of photos instead of easy to view digital ones, the process of getting that photo up on the net is actually a bit difficult. I don't have a scanner at my disposal, so I would have to persuade my husband to take it to work with him, and the thought of that photo floating around his office, out of my control, is a bit much for me to fathom at this point.



So, all that to say - don't hold your breath.



Now, back at the ranch . . .

One of the oddest aspects of our trip to Ohio was how cold it was while we were there. Normal temperatures at that time of year are usually well into the 80's with sweltering humidity (think armpit). This is what we were expecting when packing our shorts and tank tops. I found, however, that I had a hard time finding clothes to wear as the temperatures stayed in the 70's, and some days were even in the 60's. This was lovely when I went running on the trails of the reserve in the morning (can I tell you how much I love trail running - so much more fun than running up and down and up and down the two streets in my neighborhood), but it wasn't so fun when the kids were planning on spending a lot of time swimming at Grandma's and Nana's pools.



I guess my kids were biologically hoping to balance out the cold temperatures because, for the first time in ages, both of them got sick with fevers and colds. Ben was the first to succumb on Monday, and Claire's fever hit on Thursday morning. Thankfully, the fever only seemed to last about 24 hours, but both of them were pretty miserable that first day. Never one to doubt the power of medication to alleviate all ills, I dosed Claire with Tylenol, and she was finally able to pick herself up off the floor to go visit a local horse farm owned by a family who attends dad's church.

This place was pretty amazing; actually, since I have never really gotten over my childhood obsession with all things equine, I was secretly hoping they would ask me to move in.




But, first, we had to see the big tractor.


And, we had to sit on the big tractor.





And pretend to drive the big tractor.

Now, little boy is happy.

Then, just because her brother thought it was so darn cool, Claire had to give it a try to see what the fuss was all about.

I don't think she was as quite impressed.

But, the horses? Oh, those beautiful horses were some kind of impressive. Three of them had colts in the stall with them, and three more were pregnant. There were also two stallions, but we were all a bit enthralled with those sweet baby horsies.

Don't you just want to put it in your pocket (ok, maybe your minivan) and take it home?

Here is Electra and her foal (try to ignore that blinding glare in the back of the picture). Electra was the sweet horse who gave Claire a ride - the highlight of Claire's week for sure.

As you can see, the foal didn't ever let her mama out of sight. She would run right with her, and every once and awhile, get a little crazy and kick up her heels at the excitement of being out of her stall. Just like a toddler. How sweet is that?

Here's a video of part of the ride:

Never one to allow his sister to do something without him, Ben immediately began his, not-so-nice screaming request to "ride the baby horse!" Since the horses can't be ridden until they are 3 (who knew?), he got to sit on Electra too.

As you can see, he got a little confused as to which end was the front, so I made the executive decision not to allow him to ride the horse. You can imagine the hell that broke loose after that proclamation. It wasn't pretty.


The owner, in an attempt to assuage Ben's screaming fit, and to let the kids have some more fun, suggested that they feed each of the horses a treat. Claire was all for it. Ben kept screaming, "the horsie will bite me." Seriously, from where does the drama come?

What's interesting about this picture is that Claire was not at all afraid to feed the horses and the fact that this horse had never accepted a treat from any one's hand before. The owner was bowled over that she took one from Claire.

My daughter, the horse whisperer. It was a proud moment for me.

But, since Ben's "horsie will bite me" and "You didn't let me ride a horse" screams were beginning to escalate, we decided to swing by to see the chickens and call it a day.

That evening we went to grandma's house for dinner. She made a serious amount of food including an orange, pineapple sheet cake. We were all so stuffed after dinner that no one had really started in on the many desserts that she had prepared, so the kids started playing with all the cool toys she has there. One of their favorites is a pretend grocery cart. They fight over that thing. I really cannot comprehend their love for "grocery shopping" as it is essentially the bane of my existence, but, whatever. (Do you see how my paragraphs keep running together? What the heck is up with this? I keep trying to space between them, but blogger won't let me. Why? oh Why???)

Ben was "shopping" - going into the kitchen, raiding grandma's lower shelves for cans and bringing them to me in the living room to check out. On one of his trips, the kitchen got eerily quiet, and, as all moms know, quiet = no good. I yelled for him to come into the living room, and when he did, his face was covered with white stuff. I freaked, thinking he had gotten into some cleaning product in the kitchen. We raced into the kitchen and found this:

I know it's a bit difficult to figure out what you are seeing there, but if you look closely, you will see grandma's ENTIRE orange, pineapple sheet cake dumped into the shopping cart. The white stuff on Ben's face was icing. Only at Grandma's house would a stunt like that get you kisses instead of some serious trouble. Just look at his face. He must have figured he scored a great deal at the "grocery store."