My neighbor, Mary Ellen invited me to accompany her to the Church. No, not to worship but tidy up the perennial flower beds in front of the parsonage. Of course I was ready to go! “Take the camera!” she said. We had a good time last summer and it was nice to see how everything planted then, was now coming up again. Little yellow mini daffodils were wishing us welcome at the entrance. Hosta was rolling up its cigar leaves from the dirt, hydrangea still keeping its leaves in a bright green little ball, salvia, yes, lilies, yes, here they are! Lavender? Gone! The garden was in good shape for summer to come. We raked the dry leaves, shaped up the bushes. We tried to move Jesus, but He did not budge. The statue had sunken backwards slightly from last year. Not too bad however, so He was left to watch over the awakening spring. *click*
“Let me call Peter, and see if he is on his farm. We can go over to pick up some vegetables and see if there is something we can take pictures of.” Oh, how I love these free carefree days of retirement!
In the middle of dense housing there is a neighborhood, where houses are spread on four-acre lots, maybe bigger, far away, yet just a few streets away from the highway. Well hidden with tress so one never even thinks of their existence. So Peter was home. But what surprised us upon arrival after passing the corrals was a live and active shoe store! Well, not a REAL shoe store really but country-style: Blacksmith had parked his “shop”, truck and small trailer right by the barn, and a gorgeous horse, Scarlett O’Hara, was being fitted for new shoes. Serendipity!
Mary Ellen went to get her eggs and vegetables from the Farmer and I stayed watching the process and “of course, you can take photos,” said the Blacksmith. A man with pleasant appearance, leather chaps, tattoos peeking under the short sleeves, continued calmly working on the hot burning iron. Heating, hammering, drilling, shoeing the horse, assisted by his son, they worked in unison. It was a pleasure to watch! I have seen this before, long time ago at my grandparents house in the country. But here on the island, I only have seen it on the museum grounds at the Restoration Village . Truthfully, I did not even see it there either, I just saw a blacksmith whose grandfather came from Finland. That is another story! I followed the father and son as they worked, I spoke with the horse’s owner and took some photos. Everything moved smoothly, the horse behaved ladylike as the modern-day cowboys fitted her with brand new shoes.
Mary Ellen and I even got a horse shoe as a good luck charm from the Blacksmith. How lucky were we!