A morning not to forget. It was about 8:30 a.m. when I felt Shadow crawl up on my left side, between me and the wall with the windows and the books.

I felt a slight trembling, then a few sharp jolts, then two more. I grabbed onto Shadow who wanted to get away. Pete grabbed Ryder, on her bed, over to our bed. The quake continued just long enough for me to begin to wish it was over with.

Pete remained amazingly calm the entire time and after. He thought it was in the four range. I thought it was in the six range. He went back to sleep. I got up. Turns out, I was right.

As I got used to being vertical, something I do every day, I looked around. Some things, mostly books had moved some, the word to describe this is askew.

I went outside and took care of the animals. The goats and chickens seemed okay. The horses were a bit more fractious than usual. I ate breakfast, and with the time I had available to me, I first went for a ride on Hrimmi, going around the loop first and onto our trails. Then, after lunch, Pete and I went for a ride respectively on Tyra and Raudi.

We got to Tin Can Trail and Pete remarked that Tyra seemed to be stumbling quite a bit. When we got back, I trotted her up and down the driveway and both Pete and I determined that she was lame.

I just thought of this when I was writing. It could have been that she fell during the earthquake. She was able to put weight on both legs so she may be okay. She’s also, again, has loose poop. Spring can’t come soon enough because winter, whether or not a horse is healthy, does add to an animals’ woes.

Raudi did great. I got off her at the rides’ end, and she began moving down the trail; then when I called her, she came to me. Didn’t used to be this way.

We put the horses away and then went to our friend Hally’s house for Thanksgiving Dinner. Going up the driveway, I noticed that she had the most magnificent chicken coop that I have ever seen. It holds 20 chickens total. Very commodious, warm, and full of light. I had a case of coop envy when, after, I was given a tour.

Hally’s house was also big and expansive. I didn’t envy her place as much as I did the chicken coop, but I was awed. We walked in and family were sitting around a home bar – in white neon, above the door, was a sign that read “Marshall Bar.”

It made our place seem like the ghetto. Right now we are dealing with the fact that the hot water heater is broken. And the cold is swirling around my lower legs.

Thanksgiving, I recalled, is being happy for all you have, while you have it.

Next: 319. 11/28/25: Change is a Constant