1. Mary Ann asked if it is still dry here. The little bit of rain we got last month (and I mean little bit) didn't put a dent in the drought. Southern California got hit with some rain a week or so ago; remnants of a tropical storm but we didn't see any of that. What we need is a winter full of cold wet storms from Alaska to build the snow pack.
2. Last week, Brett and I were like two ships passing in the night. While he was in Park City, Utah with his daughters and their kids for a baseball tournament, I held down the fort. Mid-week, Camille flew in and we had an afternoon and evening at home before leaving for Shaver Lake. Camille took picturess of herself with all the animals. My favorite is this one of her with Lucy.
3. Thursday, while Camille and I drove to Shaver Lake to meet up with my family, Brett drove back home from Utah with his daughter, Jen, and the grandkids. You've seen all the posts this week of their time riding Pistol. Brett also took them to a historical park in Placerville where they went into a gold mine and then learned how to pan for gold. They filled little vials with sparkling flecks -- and didn't want to leave.
4. Meanwhile, the kids and I spent four days at Shaver Lake with my sister and her family, and my dad and his girlfriend. The "kids" are all grown; Camille is the youngest at 21 and my oldest nephew is 27 (I think). Kyle brought his girlfriend, Ana, and she fit right in. We have been doing this since Camille was an infant and the cousins look forward to this vacation every year. They are scattered now, but they all showed up for this annual family vacation.
5. The weather the past few days has been hot, dry and breezy. When it is in the triple digits like this, a breeze feels like a furnace blowing. Five fires are burning in Northern California; two of them close enough to give us smokey hazy skies. The garden is wilting, the horses stand in the shade swishing their tails, the chickens pant, Kersey plunges into her wading pool constantly, and we hide in the house. I dislike this time of year - too hot to garden or ride. The days are getting shorter so I no longer have time to ride before work. I love spring and fall; I don't mind winter -- but summer... yech!
6. Brett came off Mufasa this morning. Brett got banged up but nothing broken, thank God. Mufasa spooked at something while at the mounting block, Brett's shirt got caught on the horn and ripped, and the sound sent Mufasa crow-hopping away. Brett lost his balance, slid sideways and then landed with a thud on the ground. Mufasa jumped sideways, away from Brett, and slammed into the donkey pasture fence post. He bucked and kicked the fence, then took off running, bucking as he went. We retrieved him in a corner by the front gate, with the rope reins wrapped around his front leg. While Brett worked on washing gravel out of his abrasions, I got Mufasa - who was wild eyed worried -- untangled and back to the tie rail. Brett's very sore and, at the moment, I don't care if Brett ever rides Mufasa again. Brett's 66. Mufasa is unpredictable - not mean - but he spooks at any little sound or movement. Its Brett's decision, of course, and I will support him either way. I reacted with dread, then fear, then panic, and finally tears. I don't trust Mufasa. I just don't.