"The Cinderella Horse."

Talk about flying horses. Oh, or wishing on them.

This is Snowman.  “The Cinderella Horse”

Snowman was trucked to go to the slaughterhouse when he caught the eye of  Harry De Leyer, a horse trainer who arrived late at a horse auction. The unsold horses were loaded to go away when the gentle eye of the big white horse captivated DeLeyer. The horse was of mixed breeds, formerly a farm horse, but there was something special  in Snowman that De Leyer recognized. On a whim he asked that the horse taken from the truck,  and he purchased the horse for $80.00.

At home, his little girl said, “Oh, he looks like a snowman.”And Snowman stuck.

Known for his gentle disposition, he happily held five kids.

De Leyer used Snowman as a training horse for children until he recognized his talent after he sold Snowman to a neighbor.  Snowman repeatedly jumped 5-foot fences to get back home. As luck would have it, the neighbor was happy to give the horse back to De Leyer who began training Snowman for jumping.

This horse became a jumping phenomenon, winning jumping’s highest honors in 1958-1959. He was the first horse to win at Madison’  Square Garden’s Open jumping Championship two years in a row.

I read that Snowman appeared on the Johnny Carson Show, and Johnny climbed aboard.  Where was I? Darn,  I missed  it. I guess I was too young to stay up late to watch Johnny Carson in those days.

If we want inspiration, take one from Snowman.

Who knows what lurks in the heart and soul of a human or animal. Who knows who will go on to greatness.

And about wishing on white horses, you've heard my story, about Rita telling me to make a wish.

“Why?”I asked.

“A white horse. I always wish on white horses.”

Rita was as crazy about horses as I was. What fun. I added wishing on white horses to my wishing repertoire.

And as you know when at twelve years old I got Boots, a horse of my own. All those years of wishing and having them come true, made a believer out of me.

So here, calling this blog Wishing on White Horses, I intend that we return to our childlike sense of wonder, and magic, and dreaming, and an innocent way of looking at the world--as though it conspires to do you good.

Which I believe it does. We just stand in its way sometimes. Here we're hoping to learn not to do that.

 Once we believed in magic.

Let’s do it again.

We all want something. That's life, the constant reaching out, the desires, the lure of the chase, the desire to be better.

And don’t tell me you’ve got it all together, that your life is perfect, for I won’t believe you. Unless, of course, you are already on the other side.

The  juice of life lies in the dream, and success can lie on the other side of frustration, discouragement, and despair. Life isn't perfect all the time, but the outcome can be.

Go for it.

Songs and Secrets

“Thunder of the sky, thunder of the drums, thunder of the falls. A timeless song cycle…Here water sings a deep-voiced travel song.”

—Sign at Koosah Falls, McKenzie River, Oregon

 Koosah Falls, McKenzie River, Oregon

Ironic that we took off for tall timber to escape the fourth of July fireworks only to arrive home to the tune of, “Pop, pop pop.”

We fixed it though, while our little dog, Sweetpea, our motivation for running away, hid under the bed, we turned on the movie Jurassic Part III and the screaming, roaring and chomping drowned out the snap, crackle and pop that was happening  outside.

We had intended to be out past fireworks time, but by 10 o’clock we were ready to be home. We had spent the day out the McKenzie River area, visiting waterfalls, rowing a boat on Clear Lake, and having a picnic with daughter number one and her family by the lake.

Sweetpea has developed a fear of loud noises, so husband dear and I decided to escape the 4^th of July and go to the forest. 

 Did you know that fireworks are verboten in the National Forests of Oregon?  However,  the one cabin I could find that I wanted, was only available on the 3^rd . so we took it.

What fun. Sweetpea provided the motivation. And daughter dear had given us a remedy for Sweetpea that seemed to make her better.

I have mentioned that both husband and I grew up in Oregon, but on the dry side of the Cascade Mountains. When we first visited Oregon west of the Cascades, (And we settled here)  I thought I hadn’t seen Oregon until I saw the McKenzie River.

Years ago we visited McKenzie bridge where The Log Cabin Inn had a long history of being a stagecoach stop, and where at that time it was a restaurant where they served wonderful food, and delicious Oregon berry cobblers.

Alas during our time away from Oregon the Log Cabin Inn burned to the ground. And what was once rustic cabins alongside it, are now replaced with exquisite houses, called cabins, that are for rent, at a goodly price, and will sleep 12 . Not what we wanted.

However,  across the street, from what used to be the Log Cabin Inn, is a small convenience.grocery store, and within that store is The Obsidian Grill. You wouldn’t believe how good their food is.  “Fresh ingredients,” they say. It makes a difference, attention to detail. Salad fresh, crisp, and the blacked chicken sandwich, on an artisan bun, bacon, peppers, red cabbage coleslaw, I don’t know what all. Mine was perfect.

Husband dear had pulled pork, that he loved.  Behind the grill existed a large area, partly covered, partly open, mulched with bark, and littered with picnic tables. There you could while away the hours, or eat and run. A movie screen was set up, but the movies hadn’t begun yet. But what a great idea.

 That was our destination this fourth of July, and our cabin within blocks of it.

 Our cabin in the woods 

where we shared champagne with friendly neighbors from Bend.

The Mighty McKenzie River

 Sweetpea's path

Look down

Look straight ahead

Look up

If you travel on up the McKenzie, you will find roaring, turbulent waterfalls, and farther on you will come to Clear Lake. Three thousand years ago the lake was formed by a volcanic eruption that damned up the river and created the lake. The water drains from the lake forming the McKenzie. The headwaters of the McKenzie collects above the lake from snow melt from the Three Sisters Mountains.

The McKenzie is the only tributary to the Willamette River that doesn’t have an Indian name. Phooey. It has a trapper/explorer’s name.

No motor boats are allowed on the lake, but they rent rowboats, and Daughter number one, grandson, Sweetpea and I took advantage of their offer. We took turns rowing and wove our way  out onto the beautiful lake. Along the shores we could see little white butts in the air as Canadian geese struggled to feed on the underwater plant life while their floatation devices struggled to keep them afloat.

 Clear Lake dock

  Look who decided to join us.

Sahalie Falls

                                         Wall built by the CCC, 1933-1942

And finally, on the way home, a photo of a wall that formed the entrance to Sahalie Falls built by the CCC--The Civilian Conservation Corps 1933-1942. Look at the precision of the rock work. Franklin D. Roosevelt, long interested in conservation, created the CCC to relieve families who had difficulty finding work during the great depression. One of Roosevelt's most successful New Deals, this one gave men food, shelter, clothing and a wage of $30 per month, $25 of which they had to send home to their families.  (In 1970 this wage was equivalent to $570.)

Visit Timberline Lodge, sometimes, and there you will find exquisite carvings decorating the banisters created by the CCC.

It ’s estimated that some 57,000 illiterate men learned to read and write in CCC camps.