“Cocoa’s Tale” introduction

“I sure hope this flies… because they sure bite a lot. And hard, and in the season of hot, when even the shade doesn’t help much. A good breeze is kind though. I like the wind. Yep, I don’t mind the wind. Or the cold and the rain. Butt flies… they’re the worst.”

This is a tale of tails. Pets tails, Pony Tales, and other such happenings of Cocoa, the unshod, unstable-d pony. Though he could have been a miniature quarter horse, we found him to be far more comical than any other animal on our homestead. Though many of the stories are true, they have been altered to come from the perspective of our dear “Elvis.” He really did think he was the rock star of our farm. And yes it took a number of years for us to understand that Cocoa was the true cornerstone of all the chore life that happened.

There are many characters that you will meet along the way. There is Patches and Socks the cats, along with Daisy and others who would catch a bird in mid-flight. There were “hound” dogs from Lady, to Dolly to Tiz, Seymour, and Eva and finally Charlie. He out lived so many farm critters. Not to mention all of the sheep and lambs and Dodge the ram.

While Furbie thought he was a super hero, and Dolly the cattle dog felt she was always misplaced with the sheep, Cocoa never seemed to miss anything that happened. Standing down south of the front window, it was as if he heard every word we said. He is the author of many a false yarn that gets most everyone into trouble. Cocoa is the long lived, best loved, favorite among all of the creatures on the Green Field Acres. His antics and repetitive nature will have you rolling in the young grass for sure!

While the animals are all the same such named pets, the peoples personalities are adjusted to keep them from identity theft. Marie and Megan will not argue about whose horse it really was… And Cocoa will tell you that his true loyalty was with Ann rather than Wade. The parents and children alike have their own tales to tell about Cocoa’s daily greetings and special snickers.

Through the seasons of snow, young grass, hot flies and tomatoes, Cocoa will entertain you just as he did the neighbors. From over eating on spilled corn, to running free when the fence was down and to the loosing of his marbes, I hope you enjoy his story. So many stories. Well, then, should we begin at the beginning?

“Many, many moons ago during the season of snow I found myself at a new home. My first ride across the harvested fields found me and my brother in a new barn. Well, actually, we took two rides. The first was to the old man’s place. The old man was so ecstatic over the new friends to come. The young man and the old man had much to say to us. Most of the advice we had already heard before. He said, surely we would have the best of times with the children. He said, the children were young you know. But we were young also. So that meant that we could grow old together. “

“The next few days were pretty eventful. The children were more excited than the man had ever imagined. My brother and I were not too plussed about it. These were just little people. Little people or young people were all the same to me. But at the time I was a little pony. A foal, you know. So yes, we were going to be best of friends for sure.”

Cocoa said everything twice. You mean like, he said it again? Yep, he had to make sure you heard him. He was worth hearing you know.

What? 52 skeins?

The quickest rout to insanity is the silence of one’s own thoughts.

Trying to maintain my sanity as the silence looms over the barnyard is not going so well. This week comfort eludes me as my ear infection made me feel like there was a great big tumor hanging off the right side of my head. And sleep was the only thing that helped me get away from the pain.

The other day after three days of right ear pain enough to feel like someone poked a hairpin in my ear and left it there—I think I almost could have strangled the dogs for barking ALL morning long. It would not have helped the pain in my ear to go away, but at least the noise of barking would have ceased.

So, yes, I can completely understand how in the days of prairie life people could leave their warm cabin when the wind was howling and go out to freeze in the cold. Now maybe I get what it means to be “drove mad.”

So my spouse thinks he can come home to rescue me only to set up his work station directly in the walkway of the living room. I left. It’s not him. It’s me. I don’t think I’m a very peaceful person to be with this week. I am trying to get away from me. Wow—my ear hurts.

My life saver hubby did do one wonderful thing. He brought home some pheromone for the dog’s nose. That stuff really works. And it does not take very much. We put a tiny rub on the top of her nose each morning after breakfast. Ahh, a little bit of peace and quiet.

Oh, yeah, the quiet, silent walls. For most of the week I could not listen to anything. My ear just rang like a bell whenever I tried to concentrate on what was being said. So I did not listen to music either. Finally after almost five days I decided to wear a hat and try to listen to a book.

Book Review: “Redwall” by Brian Jaques. The story of the rodents in war and other such battles is what my daughter deemed a “great read out loud.” So she handed it to her husband and his little golf buddy was soon standing on the arm of the chair in true toodler listening fashion. I finished all three of the books within a book in about three days time. Then the silence resumed and my mind began composing my own tale.

So begins the saga of Cocoa the pony. The animal characters will all have the same names as they did during his life here on the homestead. But the people names will be revised. I have some interesting barnyard anecdotes to relate of our children’s favorite farm animal.

So I guess the silence was not all for nought. Is that how you say that correctly? There are so many stories to tell about Cocoa, I’m not sure I will ever get them all written. So here goes.

Meanwhile…. About those 52 skeins. I found my yarn packaging wraps in the “potato bin” cupboard that my father in law made for me. It is now just a container for my yearn craft what-nots. Yarn, thread, hooks, unfinished projects, and the fancy scissors that no one else can use are kept quite securely in the cupboard in the corner.

So what? Why does it matter if I used 52 skeins of yarn up last year? Well, I must have something to do with my time. While the most of the year I don’t spend sleeping trying to heal my ear ache, I am either crocheting or writing or gardening. I wonder wat this year holds for me? Especially since my “Pony Tales” has just begun to to take shape in my mind.