Tomoko's Farewell

We hated to see the day come, when we had to say goodbye. In the months that Tomoko had been coming to the barn, we all got to know her a bit, and came to admire her alot. She was determined — English was not her first language and she was taking dressage lessons, difficult enough for a native speaker! (how would you say 'haunches in' in Japanese, anyway?) — quietly brave, and, as we found out, very funny. Sitting on the deck one morning, we were laughing about some spousal blunder — don't worry, Dave, it wasn't you! — and she said, "Oh yes. Sometimes Japanese wives like it when the husbands are gone a long time."

And, she's a horse person, for sure, married to a non-horse person, for sure. No matter: He got dragged along to the expo — like a true horse husband, someone had to carry the wallet. She had shopping to do! A new saddle, ca-ching.

We couldn't let her go home without marking the occasion. She wanted us to meet for lunch, so we started off tastefully enough one afternoon at Origami for sushi, saki and silliness:


A few days later, on the day before her plane left for home, we had a party at the barn. Happily, it was one of those perfect Minnesota days, so we spent it outside. She rode Niamh, her favorite horse, coming:


... and going:


Then, more fine dining, this time on the Caille Farm veranda:


What better way to digest chips, dip and cheap wine than with a spin on Barb T.'s four-wheeler:



Maybe it was a bit of a hootenanny, but we had a good time -- and I hope she won't forget us.


We'll leave a light on for you, Tomoko. Come on back, you betcha.