Before My Peace Is Shattered

My mother arrives in Moscow today on the 11:15 commuter plane from Seattle. I know that part of the impetus for her coming is to ride back to Seattle with me in the car (or at least to her house in Maple Valley), because, logical or not, she is worried about the dopiness associated with recently beginning Keppra again. She wasn't available to come with me when I drove out, when it might have mattered, but she's coming now. Frankly, even though I really did feel in perfect control of the vehicle—and I'm not protesting too much here, remember, my drive was uneventful—I would rather ride with me on the return leg, too.

I love my mother very much, and I am excited that she's coming. I didn't, in fact, get my cowboy hat when I went in to town on Monday, as I really didn't feel like doing anything but the grocery shopping. Tri-State, Idaho's Most Interesting Store, is on the way from the airport, though, so I'll take her with me and we'll see what we see.

Anyway, what will change is that there will be someone likely wanting breakfast before 11, shorter walks than two hours, lunch before 3, and dinner long before 10:00pm, when I finally sat down at the table last night (I didn't get back from my ride until 8, then I had to clean up and put away the horse, then water the lawns, then chase a cow out of the yard—it all just added up.). And tomorrow night, since the three who are on the Chief Joseph Ride will be arriving late, late in the night and wanting their own beds, she'll be sharing mine. We actually share pretty well—both of us tend to sleep practically without moving all night long, and she's not much of a snorer—but Spackle will be sad. He's not such a good sharer, and there is absolutely no room on the queen-size bed for three of us.

But mostly I wanted to remember just a few more events before they are banished completely from my mind by the need to be a hostess.

First of all, on the drive home from our hike yesterday, almost at the bottom of the mountain, we came upon two moose! (mooses? meese?). They were a mother and a baby, and were, unfortunately, out of the road and up into the trees long before I could get my camera out. Even though it's digital and I wouldn't be wasting film, there didn't seem much point in a photo of russet hide through thick underbrush. The baby looked to be about Great Dane size, and had a very nobbley and eary head. The first time we were here, almost 8 years ago, we saw a young bull moose, but they're pretty solitary creatures. It was very exciting.

Second, Sikem does not come when I call him to go for a ride. K seems to think the horses come when called; I have never found this to be true. And so I begin every outing dragging myself up the hot, steep, western-facing hill. He at least doesn't run when I finally get to him, and he did allow me to make rudimentary reins out of my lead rope, jump on bareback, and ride him down. No, I was not wearing my helmet. He has also learned to stand, more or less still, next to the newspaper box so that I can collect the paper without getting off, on our way back home. He does not like the rustling of the paper or the fact that my hand disappears and then appears with something in it. He was actually quite good at letting me do this leaning off to the left, which I have done with him in the past; leaning off to the right was an entirely new experience, however, and one that he has not been keen on. He really is a chickenshit.

Third, after the ride, Sadie got Hoover to chase her around the yard in some sort of agility test. He is as fast as her, I think, with no obstacles, and I think she figured that out as well, because she started leading him under fences and through the horse pens. She is just enough shorter than him that she doesn't have to squeeze quite so much, and therefore doesn't have to slow down quite so much. After a couple minutes at top speed, never quite able to pass her (they were neck and tail, mostly), Hoover started to cry out his distress, making these plaintive mini-howls as he galloped: "Eee! Arr! Eee! Ooo!". Spackle then, either fed up with the shenanigans, or annoyed that this little upstart was messing with his family, interposed himself in front of Sadie as she flew by and growled. She immediately stopped and flung herself to the ground at his feet, on her back, in total submission.

I tell you, these creatures. Never a dull moment.