Monday, October 31, 2005, 18:23
Another Inch!
Sunday evening when I gave Isabelle more hay, it seemed to me that she was taller again. So, this morning when I gave her some hay, I scrounged around and found a twine string, measured from the top of her withers to the ground, tied a knot in the twine string at the point where it reached the ground and then took it in the basement to the workbench and measured the string.
Isabelle is 58 inches tall! Or in a horse person's terms, 14 hands and 2 inches.
When we went to see Isabelle before we bought her last summer, she was 56 inches -- or 14 hands. She has grown 2 inches in two months. Wow.
If she keeps going at this rate, she really will grow into her name.
Isabelle is not her "full" name, you know. Isabelle's name really is -- are you ready for this? -- Isabelle Ann Norma Irene Rae Carla Merle Ralph Simpson.
We started out with Isabelle because Randy liked the name Belle and wanted something with Belle in it -- so I suggested Isabelle.
Ann is part of my name, but it was also my pony, Dusty's, middle name.
Norma was my mother's name. I'm not sure what my mother would think about naming a horse after her, seeing as she was not crazy about horses (she was always afraid of the workhorses when she had to work with them when she was a kid), but I think Mom would think Isabelle is cute.
Irene was the Stardardbred mare's name that I bought when I was 15. Her registered name was Irene Cappy. Irene was in a class all by herself. Energetic. Kind. Caring. Patient. Quiet. Sensible. Irene was also my mother's middle name.
Rae, of course, is my middle name.
Carl is Randy's middle name, so he suggested Carla. Carl was also Randy's grandfather's name. Carl died of anaphylactic shock while deer hunting due to an allergy to deer. Randy has inherited the same allergy.
Merle was Randy's grandmother's name. Merle was quite the lady. She, too, was in a class all by herself, and I have always said that I want to be just like Merle when I grow up. She was shrewd. Intelligent. Sweet. Determined. Kind. And she let nothing stand in her way. When she lived alone, she kept a dog chain and dog dishes in her yard. If anyone had any ideas about breaking into her house, they might think twice if they thought she owned a big dog. She also enjoyed going camping. By herself. Even when she in her 70s and early 80s.
Ralph is my last name. And Simpson is Randy's last name.
So there you have it. That's why Isabelle is really Isabelle Ann Norma Irene Rae Carla Merle Ralph Simpson.
I think I will still just call her Isabelle for short, though.
Hay -- We hauled 110 bales of hay from my brother's farm Sunday afternoon to put in our barn to make sure we have enough for the horses for the winter. That's in addition to the 187 bales we put up from our hayfield this summer. (Or rather, I should say Randy hauled 66 bales by himself and I helped with the last 44.)
Anyway, while we were over there, we saw Sophie's mom in the pole barn! She is a wild kitty who doesn't want to be petted, but when I said, "Hi, Momma Kitty!" she ran toward me. I think it was because she remembered me from last summer when I went over to the farm every morning for two weeks and fed the kitty cats. Sophie, by the way, looks just like her mom. They could be twins. We also saw Sophie's siblings. None of the others look like their mom. One is gray and one is black. There was another little red tabby, too, but I think that one belonged to different cat although it was the same size as Sophie's siblings. Sophie is somewhat bigger than her brothers and sisters.
LeAnn R. Ralph
Sunday, October 30, 2005, 18:49
Daylight Saving Time
I am feeling out of step today. I always do when the time changes back to "real" time -- or normal time -- or ordinary time -- or however you want to look at it. Instead of the sun setting at around 6 p.m., it will set at 5 p.m. today. And that means I will have to get my evening horse chores done earlier so that I won't be stumbling around in the dark. It will get worse, though, because by Christmas, the sun will be setting at shortly after 4:30 p.m.
I heard a news segment the other day which pointed out that Daylight Saving Time is primarily for the benefit of our economy. Apparently market researchers have discovered that if people can go outside after supper because of more daylight in the evening, they will spend a lot more money.
After all, more time in the evening means people have more time to mow their lawns, so they become more interested in buying lawn mowers and trimmers -- not to mention more time to plant flowers and water them and time to do more landscaping, so of course, they have to buy landscaping materials. More time in the evening also means people have more time to sit out an enjoy the sunset or simply time to enjoy sitting in the yard, so they buy more lawn furniture.
More time in the evening means people can go for walks, too, so they buy walking shoes, or if they like to jog, they will have more time to go running, so they buy running shoes and athletic clothes to wear running. More time in the evenings also means people have more time to ride their bikes, so they buy more bicycles -- or that they have more time to do any kind of recreational thing which requires them to buy some type of equipment.
I enjoy the long summer evenings. I like having all the extra daylight. And when I think about it, I realize I am as guilty as anyone else for falling into the Daylight Saving Time Marketing Trap. A few years ago, we bought a new inexpensive push mower to use along with our 20-year-old push mower. A few years before that we bought a used riding mower. And this spring, I got a new bike so we can take Charlie on bike rides on those summer evenings when it is not too hot.
On the other hand, even if there were no such thing as Daylight Saving Time, we still would have bought a new push mower and a used riding mower. The lawn must be mowed, and we would just do it on Saturday. And I still would have gotten a new bike, because even if all else failed, we could take Charlie for bike rides on weekends.
At any rate, we are back to regular time. And now I am going to feel "out of it" for about a week until I adjust to the time change.
What time is it now, anyway?
LeAnn R. Ralph
Nightshade We buried Nightshade Friday evening next to the little lilac bush and next to our Shetland Sheepdog, Lady. Nightshade and Lady were very good friends. When Lady died in 1998, Nightshade spent three weeks up on top of the cupboard because she missed her friend so much. She only came down to eat and drink and to get a little attention from us, and then she would go back up on top of the cupboard.