The Saga Continues

Let’s start with some good news: I’m not dead yet! I had to abandon all sorts of ships, run all the way home to my parent’s basement in Delmar, NY, turn the air purifier on high, slow way down, eat very carefully, hydrate like it was my job, rest like my life depended on it, but I’m finally recovering and actually feeling mostly ok again. Incredibly grateful about every piece of that, since for awhile there I wasn’t entirely sure I was coming out of this last adventure in one piece. This has led to some deep soul searching, a major pivot, plans for a very different kind of adventure – but more on that in a minute. Blessings on my parents for welcoming me home with open arms and hearts and giving me a safe space to breathe and pull myself together again.

Sitting in my tent up in the North Woods (hiding from giant swarms of the most voracious mosquitoes I have ever encountered!) with no WiFi and no ponies to take care of, nobody to talk to except for Thick, nothing to do but read and think, I did a lot of reading and thinking. I was thinking about my own mortality, as one does in these situations, and I asked myself “is there anything I regret not doing with my one wild and precious life?” If this isn’t the end, if I have a few more years left, what do I most want to do while I still can? The covered wagon adventure was one big lifelong dream, but it is obviously coming to an end. And I am apparently still alive. I can’t go back to Lopez, as beautiful as it is – I’m allergic to the mold and who knows what else up there – my doctor said I had to find another place to live if I wanted to keep living. Where to go? What to do? I’m half way through writing the next book (actually the prequel to the one I just published – there will be a sequel after – so 3 in total) and getting that finished is definitely a priority. Cindy and Ken have offered me the use of their cabin as a place to live and write and that’s obviously the next stop. I need to get the ponies and the wagon sold. The cabin is lovely, Thick is happy there, it feels like a no brainer. But I’m just not sure Indiana is my place? I mean, nothing personal, but it legit just tried to kill me. And as I sat there I realized that the one thing I regretted, looking back at my life, was not seeing more of this beautiful planet we call home. I’ve seen a lot of the continental United States, but it’s a big world out there.

First things first, I drove back to Wheaton to pick up a box of my books I’d ordered to sell from the wagon. My cousins were encouraging about my nascent travel plans and a bit “what are you waiting for!?” which was great. My uncles bought books to give to friends and family which was also great! I read the directions on my brand new gas mask. I texted Cindy and let her know I was on my way. I drove back to Desoto, Indiana avoiding all the tolls and highways. Indiana is beautiful, I’ll give it that. I had no preconceived notions about Indiana before I drove across the border from Ohio with the ponies, and first impressions were absolutely lovely. But the people who actually live there have got a lot of grit, I’m just going to tell you now.

A storm weveral months before had landed a tree on a corner of the cabin earlier in the summer. Unfortunately water had gotten in and since I was there last a bit of mold had started to grow behind the sink. I hit it with some bleach, but that didn’t seem to do the trick. By the next morning, I knew I was in trouble. Quick, quick change of plans. Phone home, mom and dad said “come home.” I didn’t want to leave. I love that cabin, I was looking forward to spending time with Cindy, getting to know a new friend for more than a day or two. I sorted through my gear, separating things that were going with the ponies, with the wagon, things getting left behind, coming with me. My new life was going to be mobile and streamlined and no sense bringing anything extra. Even with the gas mask I had a headache, my mouth tasted like metal, my digestion was off, my kidneys were aching again, I was struggling to think clearly, everything took way more energy that I had, I needed to go. I had planned on having the summer to get the ponies and the wagon sold. I had planned on having the summer to spend with Thick.

I got Thick when he was a 5 week old ball of fluff we called Puff Badger. He’s been my constant companion for the past 8 1/2 years. It took me a long time to really love him but he won me over and I fell hard. The wagon trip cemented the bond. He is such a great ambassador, a true extrovert and just expects everyone he meets to love him. And generally, they do! He took to wagon life like he was born for it. I’ve never had anyone in my life as devoted and constant as Thick. My next adventure is going to take me across an ocean. Flying across an ocean with a dog is prohibitively expensive, close to $10,000 – and traumatic, and then every border crossing becomes its own ordeal. I had already talked to Cindy, who was so smitten she’d been thinking about calling the local Corgi rescue to see what they had available . I knew Cindy and Ken would give him the very best life, with 18 acres and another dog to play with and Meathead the old Tom Cat that Thick had already made friends with. I knew they’d throw ball and give him all sorts of love and attention. It was a very good future life for Thick. But it wasn’t with me. This was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever had to make in my life. I cried while I drove for two days straight, got home and I was still crying. I’m doing a little better now, but writing this more than six weeks later I’m crying again. The soggy crumpled kleenex have half-filled the trash can. It took me a week to get over the habit of being careful where I put my feet when I got up in the night, not wanting to step on him or wake him up. I hallucinated the sound of him snoring for days. I feel like I’m missing a part of myself. It hurts. And I still feel like I made the right decision for us both. I’m getting regular updates and he’s adapting to his new home beautifully and seems really happy. Oh, but the ache in my heart!!!

I had hoped to sell the ponies and wagon all as one unit, but apparently I am unique in my desire to cross the USA in a mini covered wagon in 2026. I started hearing from people interested in Theodore. Always Theodore. Occasionally both ponies together, which I was trying to prioritize. The ponies are staying at Shelly’s barn about 4 miles from Desoto and the cabin. There was a woman in Ohio that seemed like the absolute perfect home but it was going to take her over a week to be able to go see them. I told her I’d wait and started putting people on a list. Then – the rain started to fall. Not just any rain but a once in several lifetimes sort of flood with high winds that hit hard and huge – including right where the ponies were staying. Roads were closed. Bridges washed out. Houses and barns were wrecked. People died. I’m so incredibly grateful that I wasn’t out on the road in a tiny covered wagon with Thick and the ponies in that storm.

The aisles of the barn where the ponies are staying turned into rivers. The indoor arena turned into a swamp. Part of the roof on Shelly’s house blew away. The end of Cindy’s driveway and the beautiful meadow in front of the cabin were under water. This was going to take a while to get cleaned up. It’s still not cleaned up, but Shelly got her barn mucked out and the insurance men shown around and her husband to his surgery and still managed to find time to take videos of the ponies for prospective buyers. Speaking of angels. The woman from Ohio finally made it over to see the ponies, but Franklin was too small, Theodore was too tall, meanwhile, some of the people on the list had found other ponies – lesson learned! No matter how nice somebody is in messenger – haha. I gave up on going down the list in order and called a family who lived in the next town over. They were on vacation in Florida but would go meet the ponies the moment they got home. Apparently it was love at first sight between their little cowgirl and Theodore. They took him home the next morning and last I heard she was putting glitter in his mane! I’m really happy for them both. Theodore is the type of pony who needs a brave little girl in his life.

Franklin is still looking for his new home. He’s such a brilliant little driving pony with so much to give the right home. I’m a little protective of him because he has the kind of heart that once he bonds with somebody he’ll give them everything – there’s no quit in him. He’s fun to drive, easy to be around, well put together and the bravest equine I’ve ever met – of any size! He’s absolutely bombproof with traffic, dogs, big machinery, idiots revving their hot rods as they roar past (special circle in hell for those boys!)

The Mustard Seed has been safely stored in Ken and Cindy’s big garage, but winter is coming and they’re going to need the space. If it doesn’t find a buyer soon it will go to auction – and that will be the end of the saga. I’m definitely at the point with the wagon of “make me a reasonable offer” if you or anybody you know might want an absolutely rock solid little horse drawn camper.




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The end of the trail…

Well – this is a hard one to write but there’s no sense in sugar coating the news. The ponies and the wagon and everything that goes with them are offically for sale. This hasn’t been an easy decision, I’ve been wrestling with it since my last blog post, but my health took a huge hit with the crop dusting and I’m not bouncing back in the way that I’d hoped. I went up to Wisconsin and spent some time in the woods, trying to figure my way out of this, thinking that a “pristine environment” might put me right, but I’m honestly not in any state to continue. I’m sorry. I’m not sure who I’m even apologizing to – maybe my 6 year old self. I’m not even sure what there is to say at this point. I’m not sorry I gave it a go. I’m proud of myself for pulling all this together and making it 250 miles down the road. I’m grateful for the experience, for the people I met along the way, for Mel at Pequea Carriage for crafting a beautiful and practical little covered wagon to make my dreams come true – and most of all for Franklin and Theodore, who are a truly bomber little team of ponies, with heart and try and personality to spare.

I’m posting the full ad below. It’s also up on Facebook in various places. I’d greatly appreciate your help in spreading the word and helping me find a really good situation for the ponies (and somebody who will actually use the wagon!) I’m heading back to Cindy and Ken’s cabin in Desoto, Indiana on Saturday to reunite with Franklin and Theodore. I’m scared, because various chemicals are being applied to the fields on a fairly regular basis – it’s not really a healthy place for me to be this time of year. I’ve gotten an air purifier for the cabin, but the truth is I’ll need to be outside to work with the ponies at least a few hours a day, getting them back in shape after 6 weeks off. I’ve gotten a serious gas mask. My kidneys are still very tender and sore, the taste in my mouth comes and goes. I’m really hoping that the ponies sell soon. For so many reasons.

FRANKLIN AND THEODORE — Superstar Ponies, and the Covered Wagon Built for Their Adventures — $15,000

At six years old, reading the Little House books, I wanted to be Laura Ingalls Wilder. At sixty, I finally lived it. Franklin and Theodore aren’t just for sale – they’re looking for their next adventure, and so is the little covered wagon built specifically for them. They’re a solid little driving team who’ve logged over 250 miles together across Ohio and Indiana, and they’re ready for a thousand more. The wagon they pull was custom-built for them from scratch – engineered to stay light enough for these two ponies to pull, with me, my dog, and all my gear along for the ride. (This rig’s more Laura than “Manly” – petite, and it gets the job done.)

MEET THE PONIES: Franklin and Theodore are both well trained to ride and drive. Both started with the Amish, then professional training and desensitizing with Kristin Mulhall of Twilight Farms in Fresno, OH (google her!). Both ponies are easy and friendly on the ground – happy to be led, groomed, and handled by kids of any age, easy to catch and have been out in a mixed herd with no issues. Both are sound and healthy, zero maintenance, current on Coggins, vaccines, teeth and wormer, and both are microchipped for peace of mind.

Franklin: (formerly “Twix”) 10-year-old buckskin miniature horse, 38″. Franklin was an Amish school pony in New York, pulling kids to school and home again every day – semis roaring by don’t bother him at all. He’s sensitive, brave, and has an incredible work ethic; he genuinely loves to pull a cart, and his trot is flashy and fun to watch. On the ground he’s a little shy at first and appreciates a gentle handler, but he’s willing, quiet, and kind once he warms up – lovely to be around. Under saddle he’s safe and willing and ready to go, a good match for a confident rider – but if they put their heels to him, they’d better mean it, because he’ll move out. He’s happy giving lead-line rides to little kids, heading out on the trail, or to a play day with a more advanced rider – and he can absolutely keep up. This pony has heart, try, and a lot to give the right person or family.

Theodore: (aka “Buddy”) 9-year-old silver dapple Shetland pony, 40″. Theodore’s an old-school Shetland through and through – an easy keeper with a real sense of humor. He was raised and trained by a young Amish girl who rode him everywhere for years: over logs, through water crossings, out solo and keeping up with the big horses on family trail rides, he’s solid on and off road. They were best friends – he used to stand up on his stall door watching for her to get home from school. Her older brother taught him to pull a cart, and he took to it – a great little solo driving pony, happy to jog along but he will step out when asked. He has a big blond mane and tail, easy to catch, easy to be around, good in pasture or stall. He’s curious enough to be right in your pocket. He genuinely loves kids – he just takes a little longer to warm up to grown men (treats help). He’s gentle enough for a kid to learn on, from lead-line up, with adult supervision. He’d love to find another kid who wants to be his best friend and adventure buddy.

AS A TEAM Franklin and Theodore complement each other rather than match – Theodore’s the taller, heavier one with a blond mane; Franklin’s smaller, dark-maned, and does about 75% of the pulling work if you don’t keep an eye on the balance. Franklin’s a mini horse with real drive – he loves the job and moves out eagerly. Theodore’s a Shetland pony, he’s in no hurry, conserves his energy, and needs a little encouragement to pull his share. But put him on a hill, up or down, and he knows exactly how to use his weight – steady, unbothered, gets the job done. I call them my Dragon and my Rock.

Together, they can cover 15 miles in about 3 hours pulling the covered wagon day after day – our longest day was 20 miles. Both ponies are trained to drive individually as well as a team. Individually, each pony could be handled by an experienced 8-10 year old. As a team, though, pulling the covered wagon together, they’re a different animal – spicy, strong, and forward. The pair of them call for a confident driver, whether that’s an adult or an experienced teen.

THE COVERED WAGON: The Mustard Seed was Amish built by Melvin Beiler of Pequea Carriage Shop in Narvon, PA, with the storage and versatility I needed for full-time travel built right in.

The bright yellow canvas cover (chosen for visibility) stretches over 7 wooden hoops and does three jobs. By day, it configures to cover the body of the wagon, leaving the driver’s seat shaded and the view open, with side mirrors for visibility on the road. At night, the front and back hoops – paired for this purpose – let the cover accordion out to fully enclose the wagon: the front panel extends forward to bring the driver’s seat and the solar fridge (on its own reinforced shelf ahead of the dashboard) inside, while the back extends into a small alcove for the privy bucket, a rainy-day cooking spot, or a place to change clothes and stash muddy boots. In front, it laces shut and ties off to the center team pole, with tent stakes on hand to secure the back for windy nights. Front and back panels both remove via zippers when you want visibility or airflow and attach for full nighttime privacy. On hot days in camp, the side panels unzip into awnings, held up by the same extendable poles that carry the corner safety flags – a mosquito net rigs up underneath if needed. The canvas is fully waterproof – its first real test was a stormy, windy night in Killbuck, Ohio, back before I had tent pegs and improvised with a couple of bags of mulch to hold the back alcove down. Stayed dry the whole night.

WAGON SPECS & DETAILS

· Sleeping area (behind the driver’s seat): 6’6″ long, 3′ wide, over 4′ high – plenty of room for an adult to sleep comfortably

· Under-seat storage (seat flips forward): 3′ x 18″ x 18″ – batteries, clothes, electronics, anything that needs to stay clean and dry

· Exterior “hip pocket” boxes, both sides: 6″ x 8″ x ~4′ long, fit waterproof storage bins – camp stove, tool kit, brushes, and more tuck in here

· Small shelves behind the back wheels, each with a bucket tied on: one privy bucket with a toilet-seat lid, one food-grade bucket with a screw-on lid

· Dashboard: cup holder, phone mount clamp, buggy whip

· Block brakes with a lockable lever

· Tailgate with two barrel latches

· Bench seat has spring suspension underneath, padded cushion and backrest – backrest removes easily (two wingnuts) for more versatility in camp

· “The Mustard Seed” painted in yellow letters on the back

· Recently renovated: new seat springs, lighter team pole.

WHAT’S INCLUDED: Everything you need to hitch up and go!

➡️ Harness & tack: Full harnesses for both ponies, set up for single or team

full set of Cavallo CLB hoof boots for each pony

halters and lead ropes, brushes and hoof picks, equine first aid kit (wound care and emergency basics)

➡️ Power & camp: Euhomy solar refrigerator – Two 100W solar panels, roof-mounted – Two Jackery 300W batteries

➡️ Water and privy buckets – 5 gallon buckets with appropriate lids

➡️ Two canvas buckets for water or gear (old-school cool)

➡️ Camp kitchen: 2 nesting camp stoves, one burns twigs, the other burns denatured alcohol, 2 full fuel cannisters, water filter, skillet and pots, silverware and utensils, dish towels, lighter, kitchen sink

➡️ Pony containment: Portable electric fence with battery-powered charger

Tether hobbles, ropes, and stakes

➡️ Wagon spares & safety: Manure fork

Spare bent-wood hoop for the wagon

Spare tire + two extra inner tubes

Small tool kit

➡️ Extra lights: (headlights and magnet-mounted strobe lights)

➡️ 4 reflective safety flags on extendable poles (poles double as awning supports for shade and breeze in camp)

➡️ Buggy whip

➡️ Small lightweight metal camp table

➡️ Floor mat that rolls up and tucks in the back

I’ll even throw in my feather bed and feather quilt with gingham linen sheets and a good wool blanket!

GREAT FOR: Wagon trains – parades – living out the Little House dream – homestead/hobby farm addition – long distance travel (don’t have to pay for gas and the ponies can fuel themselves with grazing!)

FITS IN YOUR TRAILER: The whole rig – wagon and both ponies – fits inside a 16′ stock/horse trailer, as long as it’s 6’6″ tall with no fixed center divider.

PRICE:

· Whole package (wagon + both ponies + all gear): $15,000

· Individually: ponies:$6,500 each – wagon: $8,000

· (Package price reflects a discount for taking the whole outfit at once)

WHY SELLING This has been a glorious adventure – the ponies are wonderful, the wagon is solid, and I’m not as young as I thought I was. I’m ready for my next chapter. Looking for an adventurer, a family (or grandparents who drive and want to teach kids) who’ll give this rig the life it deserves and take excellent care of the ponies. (don’t let them get fat!)

CONTACT / LOGISTICS

· Location: DeSoto, Indiana – wagon and ponies can be seen there

· Best contact: email sea@freerangerodeo.com

or text 518-336-5596 for serious inquiries.

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Shake, Rattle – Roll?

Surprise! I’m writing this from my cousin Sue’s place in Wheaton, Illinois. Thick is here with me. The ponies are in the care of Cindy and Ken in Desoto, Indiana. Chad is bringing them water with his tractor. The Mustard Seed is likewise back in Desoto: Jeff is working on several interesting and necessary renovations trying to solve three long-standing problems. A new cast of characters in a new state. Meanwhile, I’m in the next time zone already, trying to figure out a way for the whole dog and pony show to reconvene up in Wisconsin – away from the crop dusting that was literally killing me as I attempted to cross the corn and soy belt. It’s been a heck of a week. It’s been a heck of a month. It’s been a heck of a journey! (I try not to swear in the blog, but I might mean something stronger than heck.) I’ve been trying to tell this adventure story in chronological order but at the moment it makes sense to jump forward a month and catch you up on where I am now (with a little “why!?”) thrown in for good measure.

504 East Forest. My dad helped build this house when he was a teenager, it’s where he grew up. Cousin Sue is the third generation calling it home. My Uncle Dick lives in the (very nice, walk-out) basement in his own apartment. (He and Marge were the second generation.) Uncle David lives next door, cousin Wendy lives on an adjacent property. Lots of family around – 4 generations. I’ve been marveling at that trend on farms in Ohio and Indiana – while forgetting that my extended family is doing the suburban version right here. This is one of the houses in the world that feels like home to me. Sue is keeping up with the best of Aunt Marge’s hospitality and culinary traditions and as much as Wheaton itself feels a bit alien and “not my world” – this familiar (in both senses of the word) house is a haven that I really appreciate right now.

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Lighter on the Lines

Tuesday morning I feel beaten up on every level. I’m not proud of how I handled last night. My arms and shoulders ache, bruises in full bloom on my left leg, hip, side, my left wrist is scabbing over and tender to the touch. I feed and water the ponies, then come back into the big barn to make myself a hot mug of Joe’y on my little camp stove, taking deep breaths, stretching in small increments, trying to put the last two days behind me. Joe’y is my “not-coffee” and comes mail order. This particular bag was delivered to Laura’s house (my first host) and Susan picked it up for me a couple of weeks ago just before April and Kitty drove the Nun from her place two hours to Lisa’s. (It takes a village!) Joe’y has come out with a new flavor, Vanilla, and I’ve been saving it for a special occasion. This morning I decide to treat myself. There’s a tag on the package that says “I believe in you” which is the sort of thing that Joe’y does and it hadn’t really registered beyond that, but this morning I turn the tag over and it’s a handwritten note from Laura – and I’m suddenly just sobbing. I hadn’t realized how alone I’d been feeling in the middle of all this non-consensual and overwhelming socializing (after thinking the whole trip was about to come crashing to a shattered end four times the day before) and a quiet note of care and confidence from a friend just undid me. All the feelings come rushing in at once and I take my mug back into the wagon and just let go. Hiding in the Mustard Seed, trembling, seething, frustrated, mortified, terrified, sad, lonely, overwhelmed, aching body and soul while waiting for helpful visitors is probably not the best use of a day off, but in this moment it’s the best I can manage. I finally have wifi and I ought to be writing a blog post but after the past two days I just can’t get my brain organized.

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Apart From That, Mrs. Lincoln…

Tuesday the 19th of May. I’m lying in the back of the covered wagon, in a big empty metal barn at the Shelby County Fairgrounds in Sidney, Ohio. I’m literally trembling all over. I’m thinking “I can’t do this, I just can’t do this. I have no idea what my options are but I am done.” I am expecting visitors, helpful visitors. I am hiding. I am in no shape to deal with people but if they show up it is going to be pretty obvious where I am. I’m going to have to come out and act glad to see them. The animals have all been taken care of, I haven’t dropped the ball on that, but I’ve been hiding in here for hours. I should be writing a blog post. I can’t even read a book. I have no idea when people might show up. I need to be ready. I can’t stop shaking. “I can’t do this. I want to go home. I have nowhere safe to go. I’m not the person I thought I was. I’m not the person I need to be. I can’t do this.”

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The untold story – part 1

The ponies and wagon emerged from the trailer at Hepburn Feed and Supply, chosen via google maps for their distance from my next host (13 miles) and their driveways and parking lots which offered ample space to unload and get turned around. They were kind enough to weigh out 20# of oats with a bit of corn and some minerals rather than requiring me to buy a full bag – with limited carrying capacity and ponies that just don’t eat all that much – this was a wonderful discovery. The drive went well, the ponies frisky and ready to pull after their multi-day rest, the sky was ominous but the wind was a breeze rather than a gale and no water was falling from the sky. Katelynn had invited us to stay at her big old barn north of Kenton. With the storm in the forecast we were eager to get there.

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My Book Is Real!

FREE RANGE RODEO: Horseback through the Apocalypse (by Sea G Rhydr)
is now a real live book available in paperback and hardcover on Amazon!

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Embracing the Crawl

When my Long Ride was drawing to an end and there was a discussion happening around writing a memoir concerning my recent adventures, an Uncle (who, to be clear, had never written a book himself) told me one of the basic rules of writing: “Never start a sentence with the word I.” There was much trying. There was much struggle. Eventually yours truly met somebody who had actually written a book who pointed out that the aforementioned rule was for old school journalism, that since I was writing a memoir, which was about My Life and My Experiences, I was supposed to be writing in first person. Different rules applied.

I’m giving up. I’m reframing. I’m doing the very best I can. I’m crawling where I meant to fly. I’m bumping into my own limits. I’m the recipient of so much grace, so much mercy. I’m grateful. I’m making progress. I’m learning. I’m exhausted. I’m failing. I’m in awe. I’m the weak link. I’m the decider. I’m overwhelmed. I’m doing this! Every time I try to explain why I named my little covered wagon The Mustard Seed I break down in tears. I can’t explain why I’m crying. There’s a word in Nez Perce that simultaneously means brave and terrified. Ciikowis. I’m Ciikowis. I’m not dead yet.

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Never a dull moment!

The ponies were spicy after 8 days off, but Wednesday morning we were on the road again, New axle in place (thank you Seth) with some rubber bits inserted between axles and wagon bed for a bit more give. Neighbor Jason (a skilled woodworker) came over and shortened the hip pocket boxes by about 3″ and moved the little rollers back and everything looks good and feels a lot better – minor changes, big results! We had a long mile downhill on gravel (Cavallo hoof boots made the difference there!) and then Laura met us at the bottom of the hill and held the ponies while I took the boots off, because the rest of the day was on the truly lovely Holmes County/Mohican Valley Trail and I don’t want the ponies to lose the ability to go barefoot when the going is smooth.

Our goal for the day was 12 miles to the wildlife area/park down by the Mohican River in Brinkhaven which offered a privy, a picnic table pavillion, special permission to spend the night, grass for the ponies to eat and an interview with the Mayor, Christopher! The ponies settled down after the first mile and jogged along in a steady rhythm, the sun was shining, Thick was happy riding shotgun, the turning radius of the Mustard Seed was much improved, the trail was absolutely lovely – I was driving along wishing that there were trails like this across the entire country – bicycles, people walking their dogs, a woman wearing a baby and enjoying the fresh air, the occasional Amish buggy, the trees turning greener by the day as Spring rolled in, flowers and squirrels, tranquil creeks, the ponies seem in accord as they walk for awhile, then pick up their jog again, everything feeling so peaceful and good.

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“Beginnings are so often hard”

Let me begin by saying that Thick, Franklin, Theodore and I are all alive and well! The ponies are in a lovely wee pasture, the Mustard Seed is parked on a bit of lawn near them, Thick is sticking close and I have enough time and brain cells to write a blog post! Last night we had a storm, enough wind that I had to jump out of bed, chase my privy bucket across the yard in the dark and lash it down for the night. Enough rain to feel confident that the canvas is waterproof (and it sounds so lovely!) Enough lightning to see that Thick had taken shelter under the wagon (he rejoined me later).

The original plan was to embark upon this adventure on Thursday morning, the 9th of April. Wednesday afternoon I had the wagon about 2/3 packed and I took the ponies out with the covered wagon for a 5 mile shake down cruise. The boys were awesome: didn’t flinch when a school bus came at us on a narrow road, when a semi hit his air brakes right behind us and then passed us close, when dogs ran out to say hello. Franklin has a few issues about the color white, especially when it’s painted on the road in unexpected places – but Theodore is an absolute rock, he holds steady and Franklin quickly realizes that there’s no reason to fuss. I did discover that Thick was able to squirm out of his harness (eek!) but overall I felt ready to roll out in the morning. As we were half a mile from “home” a neighbor came out and flagged me down, asked me if I was “that woman” and how he’d heard about what I was doing and just wanted to meet me and say hello. I admitted that I was indeed her, and suddenly found myself choking up, about to cry – because after over a decade of feeling like (and being treated like) an absolute nobody, suddenly I’d found my purpose again. If there’s such a thing as “humble pride” that’s an approximation of what I was feeling. Discovering that my wings had been there all along, waiting to help me rise to the occasion.

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