My dad

I’m behind on all the posts and all the new things. My days are filled with a new job and my evening filled with projects or family time. Suffice it to say that less than half of the things would be done around here if it wasn’t for my dad helping us. He is living with us for a few months and he has been here since the move in day to help with projects. Thanks dad.




Categories: Moving In | Tags: , | 1 Comment

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One thought on “My dad

  1. Vara

    You know what I remember best about your dad?

    I remember when my horse (Rock) got out and spent a day at the old Lazy C, “socializing” with Harold Moham’s horses. When I arrived (they called me at school, so I got off the bus there), Harold was storming about, shotgun in hand, like Yosemite Sam. Your dad was there, presumably helping him to round up my wayward equine.

    It was one of those -40 snow-hip-deep days, and I’d been through this before with Rock. Having spent many hours trying to catch him, I knew just how fond he was of the defiance game. He was NOT wearing a halter, and, in snow that deep, experience told me I didn’t have a prayer. So, I was pretty certain we were both about to be shot. All I could do was croak, “Rock, sweetheart, PLEASE come here.” Wonder-of-wonders, here he came! …trotting right toward me, spraying snow as he came… He skidded up to me and dropped his big head against my chest as if to say, “PLEASE take me home! This guy’s crazy!”

    Your dad turned, clapped Harold on the back and shouted, “See, Harold! THAT’s how you catch a horse!” Harold’s face turned an alarming shade of red, and I saw my life flash before my eyes. The moment is burned indelibly in my memory.

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