THE SKOOG FARM JOURNAL: PS...MORE HALLOWEEN PICTURES HAVE ARRIVED....

Sunday, November 2, 2008

PS...MORE HALLOWEEN PICTURES HAVE ARRIVED....

The wee ones (as Gayle would say), are from Virginia and the adult ones are from Brockport.

Do you recognize Jenny in her wig? The Rubbles and the Flintstones went to a party last night.

Finn and Coop were joined by friends the night before.

3 comments:

Diary From Africa said...: Lori I love your Halloween pics - especially the one of the Flintstones !

I've nominated your blog for an award - you can read all about it on my post today :); November 3, 2008 at 3:24 AM
Unknown said...: Nice festival !; November 3, 2008 at 11:48 AM
Gayle said...: What a great bunch of costumes!; November 3, 2008 at 12:58 PM

FROM GREY HORSE MATTERS...

Where to Bury a Horse

If you bury him in this spot,
the secret of which you must already have,
he will come to you when you call;
come to you over the far, dim pastures of death.

And though you ride other living horses through life,
they shall not shy at him, nor resent his coming,
For he is yours, and he belongs there.

People may scoff at you, who see no lightest blade of grass
bent by his footfall,
who hear no nicker pitched too fine for insensitive ears.
People who may never really love a horse.

Smile at them then, for you shall know something
that is hidden from them
and which is well worth the knowing
The one place to bury a horse is in the heart of his master.

Thank you, Grey Horse Matters.

Poem for Masterpiece

Masterpiece of '79

He was a dark bay Masterpiece.

Deep chocolate brown

With small coal tipped ears

And three snowy white socks.

An eraser smudge of white

Above his eye

And a star connected to a blaze

Starting narrow and funneling wide

To wrap his lips

in a kiss.

He lived with dignity and joy;

A Masterpiece blend

of longevity

And temperament.

Appaloosa for soundness,

Thoroughbred for heart, and

Quarter Horse for sensible intelligence.

Although he is gone

His Masterpiece remains

In the memory of Jen

Who found and rode him;

And of Lori

Who soaked his beet pulp

And his sore feet,

Who loved him and,

When it was time,

Let him go.

Poem by Annette from Aspen Meadows.
Thank you.....

Followers

Sunday, November 2, 2008

PS...MORE HALLOWEEN PICTURES HAVE ARRIVED....

3 comments: