Watchin' the Road

Today's the day.
Maybe.
The horses are supposed to come home, after nearly two long years at boarding school.
I hope they remember me.
Off to watch the road....

My Celebration

Bernice, Sadie and I celebrated the 4th with a dip in my heavenly swimming pool. Ok, Sadie and I went in--twice. The groomer had just been here, and Bernicie didn't want to spoil her do, so she lay in the shade of a patio chair and watched.

Later in the evening, a fireworks show erupted over the lake. Spectacular! A gift. Bernice, being only nine inches tall, was terrified, and tried to climb on top of my head as we sat on the couch to watch. After a little while, she realized there was no Yorkie sacrifice on the schedule, and though she still clung pretty tightly, she stopped shivering and turned to look. Sadie, having already retired for the night, did not bestir herself. Beagles are pretty unflappable, for the most part. Bernice probably thought the planet was blowing up. Sadie just snored away, blissfully unconcerned.

Tomorrow morning, the horses are scheduled to COME HOME. I'm waiting to get excited, because there have been several delays already. Once the truck pulls in, and we've gotten the motley crew unloaded and settled into their spiffy new quarters, you'll be the first to know.

I promise.

On Being American

This being Independence Day, it follows that I've been thinking even more than usual about what being American means to me.

It's easy in uncertain times like these to yearn for the proverbial good old days. As an avid student of this nation's history, I can tell you that the whole experiment has been a big, lively, complicated and absolutely glorious mess from Day 1. George Washington wondered, many times, how he could possibly hold the whole thing together. Lincoln, even more so. In other words, this is nothing new, gang, and the 'good old days' are right now.

I will leave the decrying of this nation's faults and shortcomings to others. We've made lots of mistakes--that's what happens when you DO things. With Mr. Lincoln and many others, I believe the central tenets of the American philosophy, however imperfectly executed, are indeed the last great hope of mankind. Freedom is a lot of things, but free ain't one of them.

To the detractors: Detract away. Many good people have sacrificed their dreams, property and very lives to preserve your right to complain publicly or in private.

I am a self-made woman. I raised a child, forged a career, and amassed considerable property, tangible and intangible. With no pedigree and a very limited education, by most standards, I could not have done that in any other country. I will pursue the American ideals--liberty, progress, courage and compassion, to name just a few--to the best of my ability. One nation, under God. My dad flew his flag proudly, a veteran of the United States Marine Corps, one of the brave men who landed on Iwo Jima...he actually saw the famous raising of Old Glory, albeit through binoculars. (Did you know it was done once for real and once for the photo op?)

From the halls of Montezuma, to the shores of Tripoli. My dad, and countless others like him, fought our country's battles, on the land and on the sea.

Semper fi, Daddy. Ever faithful.

I love you, and there are still a lot of us willing to carry the torch.

Horses Today?

Who knows? There's some problem with the horse trailer at the boarding school, and the much-anticipated arrival of my valiant steeds is up in the air. If there's one thing I've learned, it's not to get excited over delays. This is the horse world for you. It's enough to know there's a fine place for Skye, Buck, Coco and Banjo--and soon April--to settle in for the duration.

Life continues to buzz along here at a low hum and a steady clip. Next week, while I'm away in Dallas at this year's RWA conference, yet another hardwood floor will be installed. Slowly, the house is coming together and, hectic as it is, that's life in the thick of things. I've always liked being in the thick of things--this cowgirl doesn't do well on the sidelines.

I'm seeing my new hardcover, A WANTED MAN, everywhere I go. The reviews are good. Have you read it yet?

It's the Beginning...

...of another exciting week here at the main house. The barn is almost finished, and the horses are slated to come home TOMORROW. I can hardly believe the day is finally--almost--here.
I'm not sure when my new baby, a mare named April, will arrive--my brother found her for me, and she's ultra-gentle. No bucking broncs for this cowgirl. (Yes, there will be pictures.) In fact, I'm going to have a friend teach me to upload photos right into the blog.

As for today, I've got writing on the schedule.

I continue to come across things I want to tell Dad, or buy for him. I just go ahead and tell him, knowing he hears, (Dad, did you know Stonewall Jackson sucked on fresh lemons constantly, even in the heat of battle, and it's a mystery where he got them, given the blockades and general shortage of supplies on the Confederate side?) and he would have said not to spend the money on presents anyhow. He was one of those rare people who considered what they already had to be more than enough. He was happy with my stepmother, Edith, the yard and flowers, the wood shop downstairs, family, and a legion of friends.

The many cards, letters and notes I have received have been a great comfort to me. I love the wonderful way other people remember him--as a good friend, always ready with a bouquet of flowers from his garden or a new joke.

Love you, Daddy.