Sorry everyone for my lack of communication. I have been out in the farmland of New Jersey enjoying the company of my horses and friends. Usually when the Ashmeadow group gathers at a competition, our evening hours are filled with sore stomachs from the continuous laughter over cocktails and delicious dinners, but the super early mornings and late hours at the show this week, left me with only a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in my hand late night for dinner. Now I am truly a lover of peanut butter and jelly; creamy peanut butter with grape jelly on feather-soft white Wonderbread brings me right back to childhood. A slight modern day modification was made to my dinner (and lunch) for four days: ancient grains bread, natural creamy peanut butter and Simply Fruit blueberry jam.

Never was I so glad for the comfort of that sandwich as I was on Saturday night. A wind storm swept through the horse show Saturday afternoon. I have never witnessed such panic first hand. The tarp-like material used as tent roofs covering the temporary stabling had ripped open over one portion of the stabling area. At the same time the tent's middle support pole was ripped up out of the ground by the wind gusts, putting all the horses stabled in that area in danger of either the poles or the tarp material falling on them. The people from all over the grounds ran towards the screams from the stabling area, to meet the few people, under the collapsing tent who were freeing the horses. I ran to the end of an aisle and a man shoved a rope into my hand, "TAKE THIS ONE!" he yelled at me as he ran back under the loose flapping material. There were horses everywhere, people and horses, horses and people, firetrucks, policemen, search & rescue, and there were horses and more horses everywhere. I spotted one girl holding onto three horses and another girl running through the crowds screaming, "Where's my horse!" It was like a refugee camp out there. Debris was everywhere, people were searching for animals they knew, people they knew and places to put the animals. Huge tractor trailers were pulled up to load horses onto, other horses were moved to stalls in tents not yet torn apart by the wind.

As the girls and I sat on a tent flap in one of the 'good' tents to keep it from blowing away and letting debris fly into the area where our horses were housed, I couldn't help but think about being in this situation but in much more massive proportions. At 3-o'clock in the afternoon there were plenty of people on hand for removal of the animals before it became a real search and rescue mission. There were plenty of people willing to lend a hand. What would have happened if this all went down at 1am? What if instead of a horrific wind storm at a horse show it was a tornado through the middle of a city or an earthquake? I was sure that people would come together just the same but what would have been the end result?

Our trailer arrived and I leaped into action, moving out the equipment and supplies for the boys to pack into the truck. Then we moved the horses out and loaded them on the trailer. 30 minutes later, as I crawled into the cab of the pick-up, happy that it was warm, but more happy that I could open my eyes all the way without fear of a rock being lodged into my pupil, I breathed a sigh of relief. Tonight the horses would be safe in their own barn on their own farm, out of the wind and harm's way. When we finally got back to the house and started our forage around the kitchen for dinner at 11pm, there was no doubt in my mind what I would be eating: peanut butter and jelly. It is comforting, it reminds you of home and of childhood when nothing bad seemed to happen. I was feeling empowered from the day's events and so I added a sliced banana between the layers of peanut butter and jelly but it didn't change how that sandwich made me feel: Relaxed and rejuvinated - like if I needed to, I could go running back out into the storm and do it all again.