Stonehill Stables

I know this all happened back in July, but it would be unfair not to post about it because it was really one of the highlights of our summer. We took two weeks off in early July and started out with Trish, John and their girls in Refrew, about an hour and a bit past Ottawa at Darlene and James’ farm. Dar has been a friend of mine since Grade 1. She moved near Ottawa just after high school and married James in 2000.

Dar has always loved horses. Like really, really, really loved horses. A couple of years ago, she and James bought a farm in Refrew and opened up Stonehill Stables. It was my first visit and I was amazed by the beauty of their huge stretch of land. Rolling hills filled with foxglove, ponds full of bullfrogs and horses grazing out in the fields. Beautiful indeed, but so much work. They get up on weekends in rain, snow, sleet or shine at 6:00am to bring out the horses and do whatever else horses require in the wee morning hours. Then they bring them all in again in rain, snow, sleet or shine after supper and do whatever else horses require before their bedtime. Weekdays, it’s the same deal but they have to start at 4:30am because both of them have government jobs in Ottawa that they drive to every day. And then there’s all the work in maintaining the house, barn and land. Oof. These photos really only show a glimpse/portion of the property.
The rain held off long enough for kids to go horseback riding on Dar’s oldest horse, Cajun. This was Simon’s first real horse ride (the carnie ponies really don’t count in comparison to Cajun who seemed about 20 feet tall) and he loved every minute of it. They even convinced me to give it a go. Let’s just ignore how awkward and uncomfortable I look m’kay?
Me and the country have a love/hate relationship. I love the clean air, the sunrises and the campfires. I hate pretty much everything else. During our first night there, the idea of a late night walk out to the fishpond sounded great at first. Until I remembered how afraid of the woods I am at night. Thankfully Johnny, who has known me my entire life and dragged me through enough dark fields in our childhood to be accustomed to my horridly annoying cries of ‘WHAT WAS THAT?’ every 2 minutes, guided me through the pitch black wilderness (plus I know he was a little scared too!). I didn’t sleep our entire time there either. Anyone who tells you that the country is quiet hasn’t spent enough time in the country. There are crickets. Not the comforting symphony of a six or seven crickets that you have in the city, but the racket of about ten thousand relentless, never pausing for a coffee break crickets. Once the crickets call it a night, the birds come in around 4:00am. And they shriek the house down until 7:30. Then there was the night of the thunderstorm. On a tin roof. The first time you hear a downpour on a tin roof, you think the sky is falling in on you.
But regardless of my discomforts in the country, I meant it when I said this was one of our summer’s highlights. Drinking coffee early in the morning while looking out at the view, seeing the kids behave and listen so well to the farm rules, seeing how proud they were to get to help out in the barn, and feeling so happy for Dar and James because I know how much this all means to them. It made all the black fly and mosquito bites well worth it. Thanks for having us all – we can’t wait to come back.

Loss

I found out last week that one of my orthopaedic residents from Saskatoon was killed in a highway accident. Judy, the academic administrator at the University, called me before the long weekend to let me know. In my tenure at the Association we’ve lost so many members over the years but none as young as Brad Ardell. Brad was only 29. He was in the accident with his youngest brother Mark who was also killed in the crash. Mark was only 16.

I’ve always adored the Saskatoon residents. They are a very tiny, tight-knit program that turns out top notch residents. The Saskatoon kids are often seen at my conventions traveling as a small herd – attending every session together, every break together – you can’t split them up if you tried. I could only imagine how this tragedy has shaken their program to its core.

I didn’t know Brad very well – I met him at last summer’s conference very briefly – but I can’t get this accident out of my head. The thought of his parents having to bury two of their boys on the same day…it’s incomprehensible why anyone should have to go through this. Judy told me that the family is holding up strong, deeply rooted in their faith and pulling together. As reassuring as she sounded, I can’t stop imagining the sleepless nights their poor mother must live through and that incredible loss that will never ever go away. To have raised those boys into their manhood, to have lived through all of that life with them – it all feels so unjust.

My thoughts are with the Ardell family.