Back among the living

This sign - which was posted at James' old apartment complex - states that every summer has a story.

It's barely the second half of July, and already, this summer has had a lot of stories.

I've written about most of them, at least briefly, but one thing I have not mentioned is a low-level but persistent health issue that suddenly became a lot less ignorable earlier this week. One trip to urgent care and a lot of antibiotics later, I can mostly think again. Regular posting resumes this weekend, hopefully.

Donna

Even by the standards of the last few years, December 2025 was a lot.

The month started with a trip to California to visit my mom in a geriatric psych ward. While I was there, my sister and I wandered into an active shooter lockdown at a nearby museum. I got home just in time to  testify against my neighbor in an attempted murder trial. Shortly after that, my father-in-law was hospitalized for several days with heart issues. Thankfully, he got better, but I finished the year with Covid.

In between all that, three people I knew died.

The first was my friend, Chris.

The second was Fabian's father, Benny.

The third was my friend, Trisha's mother, Donna.

Donna and Trisha at the Air Force Academy, 1989

Except Donna wasn't just my friend's mother. For three years while I was in college, she was basically my second mother.

Norm, Donna and Trisha at the Dixon Gallery and Gardens, 1996

After that, she was my friend.

A down to earth, no nonsense woman, Donna lived a life filled with horses, mostly Arabians, which she bred and raised with her mother and husband on their farm in Wellington, Colorado.

Donna and Amie Phoenix+, 2009

In 1981, she became the first woman to serve as the president of the Colorado Arabian Horse Club, a notable achievement at the time.

Donna's 2013 Century Club (where the age of horse and rider total at least 100 years) ride on  Amie Phoenix+ 

After three years in that position, she returned to her original career of teaching, which she did both-full time, and later as a sub, until 2020.

Donna and Norm Brown, photo by Meghan Scott Molin

Yesterday, her family, friends, coworkers and students gathered at the family farm to celebrate a life well-lived.

Despite ridiculously hot temperatures, every seat was full.

People came from far and wide to honor their friend, their colleague, their teacher.

Trish...

and her brother Russ, both educators themselves, spoke passionately and eloquently about their mother's life and legacy.

After, we were invited inside to view...

and perhaps purchase some of Donna's prized possessions.

Heh.

It was a good day, spent with some of the best people.

Rest well, Donna. I was so lucky to have you as a second mother. I was so lucky to have you as a friend.

BCC winners

Yesterday evening, the winners of the 2026 BreyerFest Best Customs Contest were announced during the final night of the Artisan's Gallery. They are: Excellence in Finishwork: first place, Brenna Rantala,

first runner-up, Heather Bullach.

second runner-up, Brie Cundiff,

Excellence in Tack Making: first place, Cary Nelson,

first runner-up, Lauren Byun.

second runner-up, Dani Boiko,

Most Extreme: first place, Heather Puleo,

first runner-up, D'Arry Frank,

second runner-up Elisa Cook.

Fantasy: first place, Lauren Ball,

first runner-up, Sophie Schafer,

second runner-up, Monika West.

Model Glow Ups: first place, Laura Skillern,

first runner-up, Christina R,

second runner-up, Erika Isbell.

Performance Excellence: first place, Victoria H,

second runner-up, Caroline McCall Horton,

second runner-up, Mikayla Herrera.

Congratulations to all the finalists and also, to everyone who participated. The competition was extremely tough this year! Special thanks to Christine Jordan, Caroline McCall Horton, Laura Skillern, Mikayla Herrera and especially, Cindy Evans-Yates for providing the photos. 

P.S. Order of finish was taken from the Breyer website and may or may not be accurate. If you see a mistake, let me know and I'll fix it!

Worst laid plans

"James took the job in Wisconsin," I told Carol during one of our weekly calls. "I'm so happy for him."

Then I paused and added, "This is probably just me dreaming, but I hope he asks me to help him move. I would love that so much."

A few days later, I got this text.

I was delighted, but played it cool.

I let him do a little more persuading.

Then I was all in, planning routes...

and making suggestions.

As the departure date drew near, my excitement turned into anxiety. Part of that was Emma related.

Emma with the toy I bought her at the Denver Dog Fair

Mostly though, I was worried about James' preparations, or lack thereof.

Let's be clear, James is a great kid and one of the smartest people I know. He can do calculus in his head the way the way most people do arithmetic. That said, there are whole classes of things he's at which he's less adept. Rather belatedly, it occurred to me that trip planning might be an issue.

After an anxious night's sleep, I asked Seth, "What if he hasn't reserved the moving truck? What are we going to do?"

As it turned out, that was not the problem. 

Seth and I got up bright and early on departure day and made the one and a half hour drive to James' apartment.

From our text conversations, I knew James was not entirely packed and ready to go. However, I assumed he was at least close-ish. 

I was wrong.

I was so very, very wrong.

Seth and I took one look at that apartment - the posters were still on the walls! - and knew James and I wouldn't be leaving that day. Instead of driving to Omaha, we pivoted to an all-day, all-night marathon of cleaning, packing and purging.

Did I mention this was a third floor apartment? 

After eighteen hours and at least fifty apologies, I told James it was okay. Things happen and we would get through. 

"However," I added. "I am absolutely going to roast you on my blog."

He nodded and said, "That's fair."

At the twenty hour mark, we conceded defeat. There was no way we were going to get all that stuff into the truck. James called 1-800-got-junk and scheduled a pick-up.

Those guys were so great. Not only did they get rid of all the extra stuff, they also brought donuts and helped us finish packing the truck.

Twenty eight hours after my arrival in Loveland, we were finally packed and ready to go.

No one has ever been so glad to move out.

We grabbed the animals, climbed into the truck and headed out to Wisconsin.

To be continued.