The black horse, Hypotamus Two, the school bus and the red horse

"Hey Bill!" the black horse neighed at me as hordes of children packing sling shots boarded the school bus a short distance down the road, "shouldn't you be getting on that bus? You look like you could use some education!"

"No, Black Horse - what a foolish thing for you to say," I shouted back. "I graduated long ago. My schooling is long done."

"You?" the horse responded disdainfully, "You? You graduated? No. You are lying. You could not possibly have graduated, knowing as little as you do."

"Black Horse, I did graduate. Furthermore, I was Valedictorian of my senior class at Oxford."

"OK," the black horse answered, "explain Hypotamus Two, then."

So I explained Hyotamus Two in great detail.

"Dummy!" the black horse responded as the doors closed on the school children and the bus began to roll, "you don't grasp Hypotamus Two at all. A kindergartner could have explained Hypotamus Two better than you just did. You should have gotten on that bus."

The horse then turned his butt toward me and said no more.

"Black Horse was right," the red horse then interjected. "You need some education. You should have gotten on that bus."

A brief conversation with a black horse

Up ahead, I could see the black horse standing on its hind legs, holding one hoof in the air in a way that reminded me of a human hitchhiker. I sensed nonsense and trouble, and so resolved not to stop for anything. Yet, I could not just be rude, so I slowed to a crawl and rolled my window down. The horse dropped down to all fours.

"Hey, Bill!" the horse shouted as I rolled into conversation range. "I need a ride into town. Open your car door so I can get in!"

"No," I protested. "You're too big! You can't fit in my car! And you might poop on the seat!"

"C'mon, Bill, lemme in! I really need to get to town. I have a haircut scheduled, and a rally to go to."

"No!" I insisted, as I rolled slowly by. "You're a horse! Horses don't get rides from people - horses give rides to people!"

"If you don't come back and give me a ride, then one day I will give you a ride!" the black horse threatened after I had rolled completely past. "I'll buck you off and then I'll stomp on you!"

I drove away. I did not go to town at all. I went home instead, and ate a cupcake - chocolate, with banana frosting.

Lynxton had made it, especially for me. It was damn good.

Return to a missing day: bunny rabbit, cowboy and grandson, dogs, bear, horse hair and more

During my hiatus, I continued to take pictures as usual -- far too many to go back and blog it all, but I will blog a little bit of it. There are a couple of photographic encounters that stand out in my mind, and I will still blog those for sure. I thought about blogging one of them today, but my readership always falls on Saturdays, so instead, I closed my eyes, ran my cursor up and down over the list of missing days, stopped, opened my eyes, and found the cursor had stopped on Thursday, September 1.

So here we go on that day:

I decided to have breakfast at Abby's Home Cooking and to go by bicycle. When I stepped out of the house, I saw this bunny rabbit dashing through the yard.

Poor bunny rabbits.

They seemed to appear out of nowhere early this summer... two or three, maybe. Their numbers quickly grew. Soon, bunny rabbits were everywhere. One evening, I came driving down Sarah's way and there was a bunny rabbit standing at the end of every driveway, like little sentries. I passed maybe ten houses protected by these little sentries.

Then, a few weeks ago, their numbers began to decline. Dogs? Maybe someone had a feast of bunny rabbit stew, somewhere, with bunny rabbits packed into the freezer for later? Humanely trapped and gone to the pound? Perished on chilly nights?

There are still a few bunny rabbits out there, but, a month from now, there won't be.

Winter is coming. These bunny rabbits are not winter rabbits.

Around here, winter is the domain of the snowshoe hare, dinner to the lynx, fox, and eagle.

Snowshoe hares are Arctic tough. These bunny rabbits are not.

At Abby's Home Cooking, I found Tim Mahoney, drinking coffee and feeding a fresh cinamon roll to his grandson, five-year old Wesley.

Wesley already helps out on the ranch.

Tim and Wesley, headed out the door.

Tim and Wesley, getting into the truck.

I was pedalling home when suddenly this dog shot past me, striking from behind, grazing my left ankle as it passed. It gave me a start, but then I recognized it. I know this dog. He likes to stage quick ambush charges, which can really startle you, because he seems to suddenly materialize out of nowhere and for a moment you do not know what is happening.

He is not a mean dog, though. He just likes to give you a start. Once he has done so, he is harmless, even without the muzzle.

I wonder if he has had any bunny rabbits to eat?

As usual when I am home, the remainder of September 1 was pretty much spent at my computer - although I did take my usual 4:00 PM coffee break at Metro Cafe. As I was driving and sipping on Sunset, this dog came charging after my car. 

The dog falls back, as seen in my rearview mirror.

Continuing on, I saw that a conversation was taking place ahead, at the side of the road.

I have no idea what they were conversing about. Could have been anything... dogs, horses, women, politics, the high cost of gas, all the heat and fire in Texas and how they're sure glad they are here and not there... I don't know. 

Anything.

Peanut butter, perhaps. Does it go better with honey or jelly?

Honey, I say - but jelly can be pretty good, too.

Especially when you are cold and you have been cold for a long time, but now someone has given you a hot thermos of coffee and some Sailor Boy pilot bread cookies and there is peanut butter and you slather it on, spread jelly on top of that and you feel the heat of the coffee as it chases the peanut butter jelly down your gullet and then you have to say, this peanut butter and jelly is pretty damn good, so you lather up another.

I continued and soon saw a little black bear crossing the road ahead of me. I hoped to catch up to it before it disappeared into the trees, but it disappeared quick.

Lately, I have heard reports of some big grizzlys in this same area - of paw prints over a foot long.

On Shrock I had to pull to the side of the road to let this screaming ambulance pass by.

Somewhere nearby, someone's day had gone terribly wrong.

I hope not too terrible, but who knows?

Perhaps for someone it was the day that ended all days; perhaps someone just had bad gas and thought it was a heart attack, or maybe they shattered their shoulder like I did.

I don't know.

Come evening, I took my bike ride. These two passed me on Church Road and as they did, the kid in back waved at me. I did not have my camera ready and I missed the picture.

I felt bad about that, but there was a downhill stretch ahead of me, so maybe I could get another chance. I pedaled as hard and fast as I could and caught them and passed them about a quarter mile on. As I passed, they both waved.

I stopped at the Mahoney Ranch and took a few photos of the oats, standing in teepee-like bundles. I am not going to post those pictures, because on other days I got some, complete with Mahoneys, that I like better.

As I was taking pictures, I heard someone shout, "Hey, Bill!" I looked up and saw a Mahoney horse, in the distance, too far away for me to photograph. "I notice your hair is getting thin," the horse shouted with the full force of his massive lungs. "I left some of mine on the fence for you. Put it on your head. You'll look lots better then."

Now, back to just yesterday:

Okay... just to keep this timely, I return almost to the present, to yesterday: Kalib, pushing an empty stroller through the back yard. His mom experienced many contractions yesterday, but did not go into full labor.

We are definitely on baby watch, now.

Study of the Young Writer, Shoshana, at Metro Cafe #7,829: Shoshana with Jay Cross, pilot and aircraft mechanic. Jay was thinking that maybe my airplane could be put back into the air for less than I think. Someday,he wants to come by take a look at it.

Unless I get rich, I think that airplane is done for. As I have stated before, if I could come up with the money to put it back into the air, I would just buy another one, so that I could get there, quick. But if I get rich, I will buy another and get my wreck rebuilt and then keep both. That airplane and I had many good experiences together. I love that airplane, and that's why I keep it around, even though its no good anymore.

My next door neighbor hates my plane. He built a fence between us, just so he wouldn't have to look at it.

He doesn't like cats, either. In fact, he hates cats.

Otherwise, he seems to be a pretty decent fellow, but I doubt that we will ever be the best of friends. He keeps pretty much to himself and so do we.

I wonder how he feels about bunny rabbits? Hopping through his yard?

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Passing airplane still generates magic; a man, a horse, and Catahoula; two girls on a riverbank; four-wheeler in the river; ice cream on the face

Despite all the work facing me, I remained lazy throughout the remainder of the day. One should not work on magical days such as yesterday, especially when his grandsons are present.

I was out in the back yard with Margie and the boys when an airplane passed overhead. I remembered when I was a child how wonderful, mystical, and magical it was to see an airplane pass overhead. What with their constant viewing of videos, the trips to the 3D movies and all that, could Kalib and Jobe ever possibly get that same feeling from watching an airplane pass overhead?

Ha! Kalib got the feeling!

And so did Jobe!

In the afternoon, I took off on a 16 mile bike ride. It wasn't long enough. It was too short. I wanted to go and go, but I figured I would be gone too long. Down on Sunrise Drive, I saw a man, a horse, and a dog coming toward me.

It was these three - the man is Jim, the horse is Warrior and the dog is Chain. Chain is a Catahoula Leopard Dog, a breed that I had never heard of.

"I never thought I would wind up with a Catahoula," Jim said. "But I did."

I looked Catahoula up on Google and found they originated in Louisana. Here is part of what I learned about them:

The Catahoula Leopard Dog is independent, protective, and territorial. Loving with its family and all people they know well and reserved with strangers (this would include strange children)...

These dogs need attention. This is not a dog that can be tied to a doghouse, fed, and ignored. Chaining and or ignoring a Catahoula Leopard Dog will either make them shy or aggressive. They need human companionship. This breed needs direction, training, something to do, people, attention...

A Catahoula Leopard Dog enjoys the company of a good horse...

Maybe I made up one of the above lines.

I pedaled until it looked like the road was about to end in someone's yard.

On the way back, I decided to stop, climb up the rise over the road and see what I could see. This is what I saw - the Little Susitna River, with two girls sitting on the bank. Hence, this series of studies, beginning with:

Two girls on a riverbank, study #4,328: They stick their feet in the water.

Two girls on a riverbank, study #2: The sky overhead.

Two girls on a riverbank, study #282,881: they are joined by a dog.

I shot this four-wheeler image as I pedaled across the bridge that crosses the Little Su.*

*In comments, reader AkPonyGirl has pointed out that it is illegal to drive a four-wheeler in the Little Su, due to the damage they cause to salmon spawn.  Thank you, AkPonyGirl.

About 10:00 PM, I mentioned the words, "ice cream cone" and Kalib got excited. So I loaded up the boys, left Margie home for some moments of solitude and headed off to Dairy Queen. On the way, we saw a rainbow and began to chase it.

We did not catch it, but we did overshoot Dairy Queen, so we turned around at the next stoplight and headed back in the direction of ice cream.

At Dairy Queen, we got our cones, then parked for awhile. In the outside driver's rearview mirror, I saw two Dairy Queen workers, taking a break.

The boys and their cones. After I took this picture, I started the car back up and drove home.Jobe was a sticky mess when we got home, but the cone made it all the way without being dumped on the floor, in his lap or on Kalib and that was a first.

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We will begin our Fourth by being among the first to eat breakfast at the brand new rerstaurant, Abby's Home Cooking

The other night, I pedaled my bike eight miles down from my house to pass by the Mahoney Ranch. "Hey Bill!" Mahoney horse Stoney shouted at me as I passed by, "what do you plan to do for breakfast on the morning of July 4?"

"Hadn't really thought about it," I shouted back. "I'll probably just cook some oatmeal, with berries and walnuts. Why? What does a horse care about what I do for breakfast July 4?"

"Bill!" Stoney  the horse shouted back. "Oats are for horses! Leave the damned oats alone! On the morning of the Fourth, you must do breakfast at Abby's Home Cooking! Corner of Church and Seldon - right where Fat Boys Fattery used to be. Abby's opens at 9:00 AM, July 4, for the first time, and I want you to be there. Take your family and order breakfast. I am not asking. I am ordering. You be there. You will be glad I demanded this of you."

"Abby's?" I said.

"Yes, Abby's!" the Mahoney horse answered.

"Okay." I said.

"Okay then," the horse neighed with approval as Mahoney horse Jake stepped into the picture. Stoney then turned his attention to the succulent grass of the Mahoney Ranch and with just one swish of his tail killed 52 mosquitoes.

This is the Abby that the horse referred to and that's her new restaurant behind her. Her name is Abby Hammond now, and she is opening the restaurant with her husband Andy, but she grew up as Abby Mahoney and that is why the horse so concerned itself about where, as soon as I post this, I will take Margie, Kalib and Jobe and eat breakfast today. 

The Mahoney horses look out for their people.

This is Abby and Jeremy. The stool was made from local, wildfire-killed spruce by Abby's nephew, Joe Mahoney. 

This wood used to be the siding of a barn into which horses could take shelter from the wind.

This is Abby's son, Justin, who made the tables for the restaurant.

This is Justin with his friends Andrew O'Brien and J.D McCullum, making a toast for success with tea, coffee and an empty flower vase.

I could write much more, but I see it is 9:00 AM right now. I am hungry. I must post this blog and get over there.

But first, late last night, thinking about Abby and her little venture, I again pedaled my bike down to the Mahoney Ranch and paid a short visit to Grotto Iona, built as a place of prayer by Paul George Mahoney, the patriarch of the Mahoney Clan, in honor and memory of his wife, Iona.

I felt quiet and peaceful there, as it always has whenever I have stopped by.

As I pedaled home from the Mahoney Ranch, I saw this guy, riding his horse down a trail upon which I used to often ski. I would just take off from my back porch and go, but now there are subdivisions in the way and I have not skied since I lost my shoulder and got a new one.

This coming winter, I must remedy that.

Now, I will exercise the freedom that we celebrate this day and will take Margie, Kalib and Jobe to breakfast at Abby's Cafe.

Happy Fourth of July, America!

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