Overheard in the Wolfe House #157
Peggy: I don’t know what’s going on with Gus. He has been anxious for several days now. It’s the same kind of anxious he had when the batteries went out on the smoke detector. But we fixed it. Last night, he was so anxious, he couldn’t sleep. Today, he doesn’t even want to come in the house. I don’t get it.
Sam: I think the smoke detector in the office is about to go out.
Peggy: Really? How do you know?
Sam: I can hear it clicking softly when I’m in the office. Can’t you hear it?
Peggy: No. Only you and Gus can hear it.
Overheard in the Wolfe House #156
Sam: They are asking whether I’m registered for Selective Service.
Peggy: You are. You did that when you were 18. Do you remember filling out that card at the post office?
Sam: They need my SS number.
Peggy: Hmm. I guess you would have a draft number. (rummages through records)
Sam: Wow. I have another number.
Overheard in the Wolfe House #155
Peggy: An argument isn’t necessarily a bad thing.
Sam: Yes, but arguments are suspenseful.
Peggy: What do you mean by that?
Sam: You don’t always know the outcome. Sometimes it’s good. But sometimes it’s bad.
Overheard in the Wolfe House #154
Sam: I’ve got a real busy day tomorrow.
Peggy: A real busy day can be a good day.
Sam: Let’s hope so.
Word Fun
Overheard in the Wolfe House #153
Paige: Sam, how do you do that side move on the horse?
Sam: It’s tricky, Paige. You have to pull your reins to your foot where you want the horse to go.
Belt Buckle Quality
Sam took first in showmanship in Class A today at Chisholm Challenge.
This event gave him fits when he was younger. If you are not familiar with showmanship, here’s what little I know. In many horse shows, competitors are showing the animal to the judge — just like a dog show, for example — so it can be evaluated for its conformation to the breed.
Showing an animal is complicated. You’ve got to get the animal to do things on your lead. People sometimes hire professional handlers to show their dogs. Being judged on showmanship is having someone evaluate your handling skills.
For kids with autism and other disabilities, showing an animal can be wickedly difficult. You have to stay focused. You have to follow directions with many steps. If your animal doesn’t behave as expected, you have to deal with it.
That’s gray-matter growing stuff.
I highly recommend it for kids with disabilities. Some stables will take kids at-risk. Michael rode for a year after he had surgery on his ear to help correct some balance and perception problems. Sam has been riding at Riding Unlimited since he was five. If you can volunteer or donate to a therapeutic riding program, you will be a big part of making amazing things happen in your community. Some volunteer programs will help you learn to ride, too.
Just one caveat: make sure the program, the instructors and the facility are certified by the Professional Association of Therapeutic Horsemanship, or PATH International.
Sam competed in Class A, where the patterns are more difficult. The other classes do simpler patterns for the judge, just walking up, turning and coming back.
And here’s his buckle!
Overheard in the Wolfe House #152
Peggy: Who are you riding at Chisholm Challenge?
Sam: Bonanza
Peggy: What kind of horse is he?
Sam: Brown.
Overheard in the Wolfe House #151
Sam: Uh, do I need to do something else?
Peggy: I’ll be off the computer soon. I’m just writing a blog post about my grandmother.
Sam: Won’t that make us sadder?
Being Who You Are
My grandmother’s 90th birthday was was her last.
We knew that. Her cancer was untreatable. She had been blinded by macular degeneration years ago. She sent word through the family that she wouldn’t be sending Christmas cards anymore.
It’s a big family, on my mom’s side. My mother is the oldest of nine. I’m the oldest granddaughter of, um, about sixteen, or so, I think. I haven’t met all my cousins. Many are still in Wisconsin, but not all. The great-grandchildren number more than 40, and yes, I believe there are great-great-grandchildren, too. My youngest uncle is only two years older than I am.
What can I say, except we’re a big, Catholic family.
Except about 10 years ago, Grandma let go that we weren’t always. Mom went back to meet the cousins in Northern Ireland. My great-grandfather came over from Ireland as a Presbyterian. He never sent for his family. He married my great-grandmother, shown in this photo with my grandmother. 
Grandma converted to Catholicism to marry Grandpa.
My grandmother liked ham sandwiches and drank black coffee no matter what. She knew everything there was to know about babies. She was loving, but not a sentimental person nor the keeper of scores of family treasures (if there even were any).
She liked tossing out the old and in with the new. Grandma was in the moment.
But she was always stitching something. She was the first relative to show me the value of handmade gifts. One year, Grandma and Grandpa made all the granddaughters doll beds of wooden spools and cut coat hangers. They were canopy beds, and mine had pink flocking. I couldn’t believe I got the pink one. In my seven-year-old opinion, it was the prettiest of all the beds.
Whenever I visited my grandparents, which got harder and harder to do as the years went by, I would get a tour of the house to see the latest creations. It was as good as touring a folk art museum.
There were other family secrets Grandma never shared. Some we knew, but couldn’t speak of, because she wouldn’t acknowledge them. Some we learned from Aunt Bea.
Aunt Bea, the originator of the family’s sweet roll recipe, and the speaker of family secrets.
Grandma probably just found out how much her sister Bea let on. Don’t worry, Grandma. It’s all good. It’s all about the love. You knew that and so do we.