Mom's Moving Day

There is something bittersweet in moving my Mom out of her house that she shared with my Dad for his final years. A house she had lived in, alone, for near on a decade. It's not my childhood home, far from it, but it was my parent's home.

Taking things apart, backing out screws, that I knew my Father had assembled years ago, I could almost feel my Dad with me. I could hear his voice echoing in my head as he explained where they should be placed, which were important and which we're not. So many things that he taught me over the years, that are just part of me, came back to me.

An Adult Decision

My daughter has loved horses since a very early age and has been fortunate to have had a horse since she was in elementary school.  She’s actually had three horses, Hope, Paddy and Aiden.  The first two were technically her mother’s critters, but Shannon was always the priority rider.

When it came time for her to move up from her pony, Hope, we started shopping for a larger horse that would be able to carry her into competitions and had Paddy in the barn before Hope left.  When Paddy reached his limits at the preliminary level of equestrian eventing and age was limiting him, we went looking for a new horse again.

Aiden, an off the track thoroughbred, looked to be Shannon’s ideal horse.  He was very green, having just left his career of racing but was large, athletic, with good ground manners, and a willingness to learn.  He looked like exactly the horse Shannon could train and take forward into competitions as her horse.

My Daughter the Swordswoman

Shannon went swording this past weekend at another renaissance festival. She's performed at other ren-fests previously, but always mounted, showing off her equine skills and knowledge.  This time she went as a participant with the sword circle, a group led by teacher Alex Foster, of young people who are learning and demonstrating historical sword techniques from the late middle ages and renaissance periods.