Rustic Russ and I have been kicking around a plan for quite some time now.

It’s not a “green” plan, per se. 

It’s our plan. 

It’s about using horse power to get where we want to go.

The kind of horse power that comes with a tail.

And dog power. 

Either/or.

Depending on the season.

Sure, it may take a little longer.

Good things usually do.

And there may be times we need to lean on the support of folks – and pay for a special trip – just like the Amish.

But it won’t be often.

Truth be told, everything we need is right here.

On “our 40.”

At Russ-Stick Acres.

So, come along for the ride, and watch us plan to go backwards in time.

Until tomorrow ~ God willing,

Woodswoman

I love watching our horses.

They are so ... in the moment.

Always vigilant about their surroundings.

Even if it's just to check out the new "kid" on the block.

Until tomorrow – Enjoying life today – God willing,

Woodswoman

The day started out like any other Sunday. 

I watched, as Rustic Russ packed his horse, Raz, for the ride across town, crossing the highway, past a small lake, and into the hills and beyond.

Treats for himself. Treats for Raz. Raz has come to know the old cast-off light blue Bugler can that holds his tasty nuggets each week, snuggled in the leather saddle bag.

As usual, they get escorted out the drive by the two left behind. 

Soon, it will be three left behind as Chero comes to stay with us for good, once his summer stint is done at the Troyer's riding stable.

But wait!! What's this?? A very scary, horse-eating plant! Who put that there?

If you know about horses, you know anything "new" like this may cause concern. It could be a mailbox, a balloon, a wild turkey, a new pile of wood. Spook training is essential when the horse is being trained. Rustic Russ trained Raz. Opening umbrellas, tarps in a heap, pop cans crinkling, flags fluttering, the list is endless. And you would think they would get the hang of it after a while.

But not today.  Not this 1/2 Mustang. Don't let his size fool you.  He's big.  He's tough. But dog-gone it, that plant is certainly out to kill him!

Rustic Russ held on for a fast, thundering gallop down the drive. 

There's a lot of horse power under that saddle when a horse bolts and gallops. 

Powerful enough to suck your favorite hat right off your head!

Amazingly, once they leave the property, Raz sails along with loose dogs, children running out to greet them, mailboxes, and the limited traffic our sleepy town produces. 

And why wouldn't he. 

He's got Rustic Russ reassuring him all along the way.

Until tomorrow – re-thinking hanging plants – God willing,

Woodswoman

Until tomorrow ~ God willing,

Woodswoman

Back in my day, it was pretty clear.

The country kids rode the school bus.

Or their horse.  Or their snowmobile.  Or their John Deere.

Or if you are Amish, a horse and buggy.

It wasn't that the country kids wouldn't walk to school, it was just too far.  Up to 30+ miles for some in the district.

The city kids walked to school.

There was no in-between.

This past week, a local middle school in a nearby city celebrated "Walk to School Day."

Have you ever noticed how many things we took for granted as a kid, now becomes a special day?

Police and volunteers assisted middle school kids on the 1/4-mile walk. 

Growing up on the edge of our beautiful bay-side town, I had the pleasure of walking to school, year after year.  Each year was a milestone, as the school locations changed. 

East and North for grade schools.  West for middle school and high school.

Those walks created who I am today.  Smelling the budding fruit trees in the spring, learning neighbor's dogs, cutting through farmer's fields, feeling the warm breeze coming off Lake Michigan in May, contemplating how to handle classmates before entering the school, battling strong winter winds against open fields.

Yes, like Opie from Mayberry, some of my life lessons were learned on the walk to school.

Street smarts.

Parents didn't drive us if we were running late.  We simply ran, clinging to our small paper bag filled with a PB & J, an apple and a cookie.

It was simply your responsibility each day to get to school.  Rain/sleet/snow.  Didn't matter.  You dressed the part.

No police escorts, no orange cones, no volunteers.

My heart aches for children today. 

Please folks – know that "doing for" sometimes actually means depriving your child.

Until tomorrow – grateful for my past – God willing,

Woodswoman

Our friend Francie is cart crazed. 

If it's got wheels and will roll, she's there!

Monday night, she needed a tad more power for her new rig.

Our Union fit the bill.

Francie's leader, Koyuk, appreciated having a sage leader, such as himself, by his side. 

And Union enjoyed a little stretch down the drive, through the trail and back.

Next time, our Astro boy will join India in wheel. 

That will make for a nice little 4-dog jaunt.

A nice way to end an evening.  Treats upon return and lots of praise.

And next time, little Mac may even join them in the basket.  Toto style.

Until tomorrow ~ keeping it simple ~ God willing,

Woodswoman

God gently nudges me awake each morning.

Early.

He wants me to see what he has created.

I smile.

“This is the day which the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.” Psalm 118:24

Today I have even more to smile about.

It’s my hubby’s birthday.

And, we are getting piglets.

We picked up three little grub muffins from a local farm, over by AC (Animal Control) Ellen’s place.

Of course we had to stop at Ellen’s on the way home, since we were in the neighborhood.

We caught her doing farm chores and ready for a coffee break and farm talk.

She took a peek at our six-week old gilts riding in the back of the truck.

These gals were caked with dirt and mud.

Lucy.

Ethel.

And...

Rosie.

Yes, Hogz & Dogz Piggery is up and running again.

After seeing Lucy and Ethel, we both came to the conclusion, right on the spot, that we miss raising our own little squeeky clean piggies.

So Rustic Russ got his wallet back out and we purchased Rosie as a third, to raise as a future Mama.

We will start anew with Rosie being our “gilt-turned-sow” come winter.

A suitable boar will be located when the time comes.

Welcome home Rosie.

And Lucy (aka “bulk sausage”) and Ethel (aka “sausage link”).

Until tomorrow ~ back in the pig business ~ God willing,

Woodswoman