Saturday, May 21, 2022

Still Waiting for Spring!

It has been a cold spring--really cold--maybe the coldest on record. The late spring wildflowers, like camas, were wilting over in one area we hiked. They were like, "Um, what the hell is this? Someone told us it was May, quote unquote. Spring, quote, unquote. Obviously that was wrong."

The early spring wildflowers, however, are absolutely abundant! Triumphant! Loud, and PROUD! They're doing that "threading the needle" dance move, singing "We rock, we roll, we be the king of the world."



Even the giant dandelions are getting in on the stone cold action.

Here's a patch of Camas that must have found a bit of sun. 

And the prairie star that just keeps growing and thriving.

I had a scary day worrying about Tumbleweed yesterday. My trainer messaged me in the morning to let me know he seemed off and had been lying around. We put him on watch and he gradually got better. She noticed he had developed diarrhea. It was touch and go for a little bit, and I told her to call the vet if she thought he needed it, but by the end of the day he had rebounded, and today he is back to normal. That's the problem with having him in training two hours away--it's tough to watch over him.

He only has about ten days left, and I am getting really excited to bring him home. I haven't gone down to ride him while he has been away. With my dad's death, and spending as much time as I can hiking, attending plays, and having my mom come to stay for long periods, there hasn't been opportunity. And honestly, I just want to ride him on the day I pick him up, then take off on my own here. I want to start from square one with our relationship, and that's hard to do popping in every couple of weeks while he's in training. I'm taking advantage of the trainer's work, not my own. It feels like I'm hitching a ride on someone else's horse. Right now, he's tuned into her, as he should be.

My husband and I saw three plays last week--three! That's like a dream come true. I would attend a play or musical every night if I could, taking no second, minute, hour, or day for granted. I love live theater and live music, it feeds the soul. Truly. My husband loves it as much as I do, thank God! And my mom is loving it, too.

We took my mom to see Our Town last week while she was here with us. It was much better than I thought it would be, considering it's done in pantomime. The play was written by Thornton Wilder before WWII, and it touches a lot on death. (We didn't know what it was about before we attended. It's an old play, but we had all, somehow, never seen it.) There was even a funeral procession that marched right toward us and made me catch my breath and cry. It hit close to the bone.

My mom and I both felt like we were meant to be there, to hear that message--

"Now there are some things we all know, but we don't take'm out and look at'm very often. We all know that something is eternal. And it ain't houses and it ain't names, and it ain't earth, and it ain't even the stars...everybody knows in their bones that something is eternal, and that something has to do with human beings. All the greatest people ever lived have been telling us that for five thousand years and yet you'd be surprised how people are always losing hold of it. There's something way down deep that's eternal about every human being."
So, we saw Our Town on Saturday, then Hamilton on Tuesday (WOW!! It was great!), and The Lifespan of a Fact on Thursday.

The set of Hamilton in Spokane.

Lifespan of a Fact.

Last night, we went with my brother and his wife to our local winery where they had live music and dancing. It was packed.

As the world is somewhat falling apart, and we're scrambling to find baby formula for our babies (and grandbabies), there is something going on (at least in our community) where everyone is desperate to get back to normal. Every play has been sold out, or very well attended. Last night's music, wine, and dancing, the same. We're trying to figure out how to be a community again. And, we need each other.

I will leave you with one last photo. It is of prairie smoke from one of our hikes.

The blossoms of prairie smoke are tight, and they droop down. They are waiting for a bee to push itself into them and, when one does, the blossoms will then, and only then, lift themselves up toward the sky and go to seed.

I feel very much like the prairie smoke this year.


  1. Those wildflowers are beautiful. Spring is late here too. I’m glad that Tweed was okay. I’d be freaking out.

    1. Yes, it did freak me out. I trust my trainer’s advice and care, and leaned on that throughout the day. She is used to horses coming in and out, being under stress and exposed to other, new horses, which bring new viruses. He had a small fever, too, which made her think it was viral. His feed is very controlled, so I doubt that was it.

      I didn’t realize you were having a late spring. I thought everyone east of us was in a heat wave.

  2. Your photos make those wildflowers so beautiful! I thought about ordering Prairie Smoke for my new butterfly garden, but like you said they are more of a pollinator flower. I didn't know the bees actually lifted the bloom <3

    It is good to nurture yourself. I've never gotten into live theatre, but I love live music. Those unexpected moments that tug at the heart strings, help us heal what is broken. I get it.

    Cute pic of you & your hubby! It's nice that you are both so into the same things. The way couples should be. Enjoy reuniting with Tumbleweed!!

    1. Yes, that’s exactly it, unexpected moments. They do heal. It’s why lockdowns were so hard. I love being home, and we are homebodies, but losing those special moments in music and theater that we’d become so used to was really painful, at least for me. Now, I’m like a woman uncaged, attending any, and all, live music and theater. 😂 I have tickets to our local college’s performance this year called, All We Need Is Love, Beethoven to the Beatles. I saw that come across social media and was like, sounds perfect, sign us up! I’m not picky. I’ll be crashing the local elementary school spring concerts before long. 😂

      Hiking has been the other healer. The wildflowers are like God’s bouquet to us. I’ve always loved them, and photographed, studied them. My friends know that I will dismount and spend time doing that whenever they ride with me. I have become more of a hiker than a rider since last year. When Tumbleweed gets home I hope to reverse that, but still find time for the hikes that we’ve come to love. I know you are very similar in that way! And with having a husband who enjoys life the way you do. We are blessed, we know we are blessed, and we are going to enjoy the hell out of every blessed second! ❤️😂

  3. The flowers of spring- even if they are late- are symbols of hope, and also of enduring faith that life and nature are all in God's hands.
    Treasure those special moments.
    So glad Tumbleweed recovered so quickly- that must have been scary.
    And really looking forward to your adventures with him this year!

    1. They really are symbols of hope, and hope is a precious commodity. I have a wood plaque in my kitchen that just says, ‘HOPE.’ I bought it at the beginning of the Covid lockdowns, and I look at it often. But the flowers are better. 😉

      She took Tweed out on the trail yesterday and shared photos. He looked really good. We may never know what caused it. He broke out in hives his first week, but they went away pretty quick. I think it has been stressful for him. This will be the last time I send him away, unless I hit a major roadblock.

  4. So glad Tweed is okay. You must have been freaking out.
    So nice you are getting out and enjoying things you've been missing.
    Beautiful flowers too. We've had a late Spring also, then it got to 90's for a few days and now we're back to 70's. Crazy weather, you never know what's coming next.


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