MORE COOL PHOTOS

This morning I had to take Phil to BYU--he is the ward clerk of one of the student wards--because we only have one car at the moment and I did not want to walk to Stake Conference. We can go to Stake Conference at our ward house and watch it on a big screen but I still didn't want to walk. I'm lazy that way.

So, since we had a light dusting of snow last night I decided to try for a few more pictures of the horse barn. Some of them are really blurry, they were taken from the car--I know, you'd think I could at least get out but it was COLD and it was early and I had been dragged out of bed.

Okay, I hadn't really been dragged out of bed but I had gone back to sleep after Phil woke me up and so when he was ready to leave and I wasn't downstairs with my keys jangling he came upstairs to see why. He woke me up out of a sound sleep and it felt like I was dragged out of bed. It was so warm and comfy in my bed and I was so wonderully asleep. You know how it is.

Anyway, after I jumped straight in the air and stayed suspended for a full second and then bounced off the bed, threw on some clothes and took him to BYU I decided to look for some fascinating details at the barn. Look at how the fence is held together. The man who has horses here is an interesting fellow. If it can be held together with no cost he will make it work.

And this corner shot. An engineering marvel.

I love the image of the old pipes, or maybe they are new pipes, waiting for the subdivision to begin. Note the bailing twine, holding the fence together.

A horse came out of the barn to have a look around.

He announced to the world that it was time to be up and around.

But it was even too early for him so he shuffled back into the barn for a snooze.

And that was the extent of my early morning, blurry picture taking trek. I did not go back to bed when I got home either. How naughty of you to think that of me. I made spaghetti sauce and put it in a crockpot and then I got on the Internet to check out a few blogs. When I looked at the clock...well, you know how it is when you are reading blogs! Time just gets away from you. I had to really scramble to get showered and at the church house on time. When I passed the horse barn the horse was still inside, having his nap. Sensible horse.

And the spaghetti sauce was delicious. As was the chocolate cake. Mmm. Sunday dinner is not always this planned out but today's was nice. And I had time for a nap. What more could you ask of a Sunday? Good messages at church, a good dinner with people you love--even if there were just three of us--and a few blurry pictures.

THE HORSE BARN

This falling down structure is less than a block from my home.

This old horse barn is being held together with bailing twine.

I think it's beautiful. Where else would you find a conglomeration of images like this? Colors like this? Weathered, old, hammered-together stuff?

It's been the home to many horses. All the neighborhood kids have stolen carrots and apples out of their Mom's fridge to feed to the horses who have lived here. All the mom's have bought extra carrots and apples so their kids could steal them to feed the horses.

The horses always whinnied and came to the fence to be fed. Sometimes you wondered how the fence would hold together as the horse strained to pluck the carrot out of a formerly brave child's hand, who had backed up out of reach.

But look in the background. That yellow beast is a sign of progress. Soon there will be lovely homes on this property, filled with families. It will be a good thing.

Today I am enjoying this one-of-a-kind horse barn. There will be time to grieve later.

I NEVER COULD SEE THE WHITE HORSE!

When I was a kid and we drove in the car Mom tried to make use of every opportunity to stimulate my powers of observation. “Look,” she’d say pointing out the window. “A white horse.”

“Where?” I would say. I loved horses; especially white ones, which I thought granted wishes if they were truly white. I was always interested in getting wishes granted.

“Right there,” she would say, pointing again.

I would press my nose to the window and scan the fields and then scan the horizon too when I couldn’t find anything more horse–looking than bales of hay.

“Where? Where?” I’d plead.

“Right there,” Mom would say. “Oh, you’ve missed it.”

I would whip around and look out the back window. Nothing. Not even so much as a white house.

“I didn’t see it,” I’d whine.

“Well, maybe next time,” Mom would say, which she knew was a boldfaced lie. I never could find anything out the window unless it was huge in the future such as: “Here’s a huge building coming up on the right in two minutes. It looks like the empire state building. The right side of the car! It’s red! It has trees all around it and pink flowers leading up the sidewalk. It’s right THERE! See?” Then maybe I’d see it if she took my head and pointed it in the exact direction and pointed with her finger, too.

So, last night, at midnight I went outside to see Mars. An Internet site said: “Mars is the breathtakingly bright "star" in the southeast after dark. You can't miss it. Mars shines many times brighter than any actual star in the sky. Anyone can see it, no matter how little you know about the stars or how badly light-polluted your sky may be.” Did I see Mars. No. It was not in the sky. Nowhere. It will be this close again in the year 2287, the Internet site said.

So, I stood in the street, looking everywhere for the red planet. I was all alone. All sensible people were in bed, asleep. I finally spied the streetlight. It was red. Honest, it was. I always thought they were white or at least yellow. This one was red. So I looked at it, for a minute, squinting and pretended it was Mars. Somewhat satisfied I stumbled back into the house and read a book until 1:30. Little did I know that in just a half hour a lunar eclipse was starting—a “rare lunar eclipse.” Rare, because—surprise, surprise—it was going to glow red, just like Mars! So, not only did I not get to see Mars, that is so easy to see that “you can’t miss it,” but also I missed seeing the real show in the sky, the red full moon and then a lunar eclipse. It’s just like when I was a kid. I looked in the wrong place at the wrong time and now it looks like I even looked for the wrong thing.

Maybe there never was a white horse. Maybe it was really a chipmunk, on the side of the road, on the opposite side of the car and maybe it was Mom’s way of having some fun. Maybe she’s still doing it, from Heaven, having a good laugh.

“Look, Reed,” I can almost hear her say. “She can’t find Mars and she’s going to miss the lunar eclipse too. Just like old times, huh? Heh heh heh.”

It’s not funny. The next lunar eclipse won’t be for three years. I’ll probably be looking for the space shuttle or a building as big as the Empire State Building or a mythical white horse and miss it again. That’s how I do things, I’m afraid.