[Pierre]

The Lost Prairie Chronicles #15.
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A Long Ago Lost Prairie Christmas


It was Christmas in Lost Prairie, 1982. At the age of 7 Rosemary still believed in Santa Claus. Those were the days before children were forced into growing up before their time, but that was about to end for her. Thankfully, Latigo would not be a knowing part of what was soon to transpire.

The Pleasant Valley School is still a few miles down the county road from our home. In the early days the original schoolhouse actually stood on the corner of our property, that being in the 1920's
through the 1940s. A fire ended it's life and the school board opted to build a larger structure a bit further down the valley on another piece of donated property in adjoining Pleasant Valley. The old foundation still stands on the orignal site here on our place.

So Rosemary and Latigo attended the Pleasant Valley one-room schoolhouse right up until the 8th grade. In those years the school population fluctuated between 9 and 14 kids in all grades. Each year there was a school Christmas party, and all the kids and parents attended. That particluar year Rosemary had made a (rare) friend that was also 7 years old. Sally had two brothers, one six and one three years of age. They had been talking about Santa Claus and Sally
told her that her Mother had explained that "Santa might not find their house this year." When Rosemary asked her why, she said she didn't know, but her Mom was pretty positive that Santa wouldn't be there. Rosemary immediately headed for her font of knowledge, a position that I've not to this day earned, but...... It did put me in a quandry. How could Santa single out Sally's family for exclusion this year? A five minute conversation with Lyn solved the problem, but the solution was a painful one for me. Rosemary had to know an early truth.

My explanation to her was that Santa and Christmas and the Christ Child were the essence of love, and that particular kind of love was given to her by Santa's appointed representatives. Us. Her Mom and Dad. So many years have gone by that I don't actually remember the entire conversation, but in the end, Rosemary understood. With that understanding came a surprise for Lyn and me. Rosemary wanted Santa to visit the Hargrove Family. She was determined that Sally and her brothers weren't going to be bypassed Christmas evening.

Lyn and I didn't have a lot back then, but we definitely weren't going to hand Rosemary two big disappointments at one time, so..... I passed on Lyn's Christmas present to me. A brand new basketweave saddle for Shonkin, my saddle horse. The saddle maker in town showed himself to be an incredible human being by not holding Lyn to the purchase and refunded her deposit. This allowed Miss Rosemary to do some shopping in town the day before Christmas... but then arose a situation that I should have, but did not expect. Jason Hargrove was not willing to accept her gifts! He was a proud man who had simply hit a hard spot having lost a full 1/4 of his calves earlier in the spring to scours. Money was tight and his wife was also reluctant. Nothing I said made him change his mind, but Rosemary's determination changed his mind in the end. Her impassioned little speech made me hide a smile behind my hands and, with a laugh of his own Jason caved in to her big pleading eyes. Rosemary swore us to secrecy with heart crossing and needles and all of the other stuff she could remember. That was her favourite Christmas in Lost Prairie, and truth be told, its one of mine too.

P

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The Lost Prairie Chronicles #16

A Love Affair
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The middle of January is always cold in Lost Prairie, and at 5am and 5 degrees this particular morning was no exception. Lyn Bundled up, pulled on her gloves, wrapped her scarf around her neck up to her eyes and trudged to the barn through the deep, newfallen snow.
It wasn't much warmer in the barn, but the audible lowing of recognition warmed her heart. Posie was a gorgeous mix of Brown Swiss and Jersey, and her huge, soft eyes watched Lyn close the door, pick up her five gallon bucket, her milking stool and approach her. She shifted, bobbing her head as Lyn gently stroked her muzzle. Posie belonged to Lyn as much as Lyn belonged to Posie. Filling the crib with fresh alfalfa, Lyn added a gallon can of honey oats to the hay and received a gentle nudge from Posie for her trouble.
Placing her stool, she removed her scarf and leaned into Posie, resting her cheek against the warm hide. Little puff clouds appeared as Lyn softly breathed into the icy air of the Barn.
This was a labour of love, and both seemed to know it. Posie gave Lyn an easy five gallons of milk a day, thus supplying the wide spread neighbors with milk.
Spring and summer found Posie out in the pasture mixed in with the horses. She brooked no foolishness from the horses and responded immediately to Lyn's call morning and evening. Winters were spent mostly in the barn or barnyard sometimes standing stock still in the rare patch of winter sun. Snow drove her into the barn, unlike the horses that visited the barn only for their morning grain in the stalls. The horses in Lost Prairie seldom used the barn in even the most inclement weather preferring the sanctuary of the dense Jackpines to being indoors. During certain parts of the winter when it was the coldest it was not uncommon to see them in the Jackpines with a quarter of an inch of ice covering their backs, withers and flanks, walking carefully so as not to crack the ice, frosty moustaches on the hairs of their lips and eyelashes. That layer of ice actually provided an insulation. Yes, Posie did love Lyn and it was reciprocal. Then came that spring when Lyn required surgery.

She subsequently spent five days in the hospital after her surgery and when I drove her to town it crossed my mind........ "What about Posie?" Don't worry. She'll be just fine with you. So I gave it no further thought that morning.
That evening I saw Posie enter the barn as was usual. Bucket, stool, alfalfa, grain,..... I was all set, but Posie wasn't. She chewed her alfalfa and swung her head to the rear, peering at me and wondering what I thought I was doing. No Lyn..... no milk.
And so it went for the first three days. By that time I began to worry about the possibility of mastitis, but Posie wasn't interested in me or my worries. It was going to be Lyn or nothing.
On the fourth day she gave me almost a gallon, but it was grudging and I could tell she was extremely uncomfortable. On the fifth day, a half gallon and so it went for another two days. At this point even Lyn was getting very concerned, but she was due to be released the next day.

Coming home that morning was an experience I'll not forget. I had just turned up the drive from the county road, Lyn leaned out of the window and hollered "Posie!!" From across the pasture, up came Posie's head, a loud bellow of recognition and there she came on the high-run through the horse herd, scattering them in all directions, distended bag swinging left and right losing huge squirts of milk with every swing!
I jumped out of the truck, ran to the barn, grabbed the stool and bucket just beating Posie back to where Lyn was standing. Gentle shoving, mooing and jostling Lyn around had me momentarily concerned, but a moment later Lyn had her cheek against Posie's side and was milking a river from her.
The rapport between the two of them is something I'll keep in my fondest memories for as long as I live.

P

[Thor]

Pierre, that was a wonderful gift to us this morning. I've missed your chronicles.
You are a lucky man to see your own life in such a light.
Thanks,
Thor

[Joy]

Thanks, Pierre. Our children are our greatest gifts.