I am starting to feel a little life...

The sun is peaking through the haze, and I feel like I can breathe a little again.  I love Texas!  I love our weather!  I know I am crazy for saying so, but it is true.  We had an amazing fall.  We had a mild winter...right up until a few weeks ago.  Then it came in all at once.  We have had ice.  We have had snow.  We have had brutal temperatures.  We have had crazy winds. Nothing like getting it all in at one time!  I say that cautiously because I believe we will get a little more in the near future.  I have no meteorological background to base that on.  It's just something I feel in my bones.

Most of you know when you don't hear from me for a long period of time it's because something is happening.  It may be something good.  It may be something bad.  I just tend to drop off the face of the earth here and now.  I used to make excuses for it.  Now I just accept it.  I hope you can as well.  Obviously, after blogging for six years, I'm not going to change.

I have been stalling on this latest update for the last week.  I have sat down several times to write this post, but each time, I knew I wasn't ready yet.

For those of you wondering...The last skunk I trapped has been successfully relocated and released!  I am not a cruel person.  I have not kept the little guy trapped up all this time.

Some of you already know we have suffered a loss here on the farm.  If you follow along, you know we have quite the menagerie of animals that do their best to run this place.  I say they run the place because I spend very little time thinking I am actually the one in charge.

I am not in charge!

On February 14th, Valentine's Day, the Man in Charge and I spent our night at the Emergency Hospital with one of our dogs. Her abdomen had bloated and was quite enlarged.  Fearing her gut had twisted, we rushed her in for x-rays.  After four hours, we learned that she had a ridiculous amount of fluid in her abdominal area.  Two liters to be exact!  They removed the fluid to ease her discomfort, and sent us home.  We followed up with our regular veterinarian on Monday and learned she had liver cancer.

I hate cancer.

We knew our future with her would be short.  After consulting with our vet, we knew the transitions she would go through. Our tasks included keeping her comfortable and encouraging her to eat as much as she wanted.  The veterinarian's instructions were, "I want Belle to eat!  Let her have whatever she wants!"

We have a running battle in our home because the Man in Charge likes to feed the dogs people food.  For the most part, I don't really mind this, except when they eat something and get sick.  You see, I am the one left to clean up the messes.  I also don't really like dogs that beg.  For those two reasons, I am constantly yelling at him to "Stop feeding the dogs!"  With the vet's instructions, my Man took full advantage.

Belle enjoyed chips, snacks, lunch meat, cheese, anything and everything he had, she had!

They both loved it!

Belle turned 11 on 3/1/15.  We made it to the 4th, and then had to put her down.  I am not writing this because I want you to be sad.  It was sad, but I want to share with you the life of this dog.  This dog, who taught me so much about dogs.  This dog, who greatly impacted our lives.  This dog, who we will greatly miss.

We got Belle as a puppy.  She was six weeks old, and a bundle of fur and belly.  She had one ear that flopped over and she was the cutest thing ever.  As a puppy, she was a force to be reckoned with.  She was a bundle of uncontrollable energy. Constantly on the move.  Constantly bugging the crap out of you to do something with her.  We had two older dogs at the time, and she harassed them non-stop.

Belle loved to run around the yard, eating mud and sticks.  Yes, eating them.  I was certain she would do permanent damage to her digestive system, but she survived it.  She hated bath time, and I mean hated bath time.  She would scream at the top of her lungs like you were killing her.  I remember one morning she had managed to cover herself in mud.  Not wanting her to run through the house that way, I had one of the girls hose her off on the back porch before we let her back inside.  She screamed so loud, one of our neighbors called to make sure everything was okay over here.

Belle would bug you to play with her.  With four of us in the home at the time, plus two other dogs, we were still no match for her level of energy.  Not to be put off, she managed to create new games to play with us even if we didn't want to play any longer.

One of her favorite games was "Toy on the Foot"

I can hear you now...what?  

When we were all exhausted from trying to exhaust her, she would grab a toy in her mouth, and while you were sitting down trying to recover, she would hold the toy on your foot.  If you tried to move your foot away, she would aggressively chase it.  I can not tell you the amount of time we spent sitting cross-legged, bouncing a foot while she tried to keep the toy in place.  She would growl and sound aggressive during this game, but she was good at it.  The only way to make her stop would be to sit on your feet.  As weird as this game sounds, in a small way it was a relief.  We could keep her entertained all from the comfort of our easy chairs.  We knew it was weird, but it became a part of our regular life.  We never thought twice about it until we had a house guest.  My Aunt came to visit, and sitting in the living room, trying to enjoy a cup of coffee and visit, Belle attacked her with a game of "Toy on the Foot."  My Aunt was shocked and more than a little scared, thinking she was trying to eat her, but once I explained the game, she relaxed and became an active participant.

At six months of age, Belle's sister from her litter came to live with us.  Even though they had been apart for months, after about two minutes, they had bonded and were chasing each other around the place.  The two were inseparable after that. They loved having each other, and joined forces to create havoc at every opportunity.  They ate remote controls.  They destroyed a cell phone.  They were bent on killing anything that may contain stuffing of any kind.  For a year and a half, they really pushed every boundary I set for them.

They both taught me a lot about dogs.

They both taught me a lot about being a committed pet owner.

For my own sanity, and to encourage their development, we actually brought in other pets for their benefit.

Yes, I got pets for my pets!

They started with goats that we had actually acquired for our filly.  Yes, even our horse had pets.  They spent hours herding them into their pens, and they loved it.  The goats didn't really love it, and for their own survival, they learned the game quickly.

See dogs!

Run to pen!

Belle had a pet bunny that lived inside.  She spent countless hours watching her rabbit.  It was really like doggy television! While it kept her occupied, she was quick to come get you if her bunny was sleeping.  It disturbed her if she went to sleep, and she would run back and forth to get me just so I could make sure the bunny was okay.  I would explain that her bunny was sleeping, and she'd lay down in a huff and watch her until she awoke.

I also purchased baby ducks for these two.  Then, set about making them a round pen in the yard so we could train on herding.  The ducks were inside the pen, and the dogs ran the outside.  Belle's only issue with herding, she only had two speeds - Down and Full Speed!

In the end, Belle's favorite pet has been the cat.  We found out early she had a healthy cat addiction.  Her main purpose in life became the cat.  Where is the cat?  Is he inside?  Is he outside?  Can I see him?  Can I chase him?  Where is He!!!  I want you to know, this was important to her right up until the end.

She also was able to enjoy the baby calf we acquired in December.  The last three weeks of her life, even feeling bad, she would jump up at the site of bottle making and wait at the door so she could go to the barn with me.

All I can say...We love dogs!  They add quality to your life.  They each have their own personality.  They will each teach you something about dogs, being a dog-owner, and things about yourself, if you let them.  As sad as it is, they all end up being heart-breakers in the end.  Even with this knowledge, the benefits far out weigh the heart-break of losing them.  We will always have them in our lives!

I've got some explaining to do.

I know my blog took a turn and a road-trip.  Just a quick catch up post here, then I have some chores to catch up on.

My Part-Timer (oldest child) received some difficult news last Wednesday.  I was with her via text messaging when she received this news.  It was devastating for both of us.  We all want the best for our kids, and when they have negative experiences, we feel it right along with them.  My first response was to tell her how sorry I was and to invite her home for the weekend.  I told her I would cook all her favorite foods and let her throw things and cry.

Her:  No.  I want to go hide under a rock. 

My next offer, "You want me to come hide with you?"

Her:  Sure!  You want to go camping with me?  LOL

It took about two seconds to realize she was speaking in literal terms when she mentioned that rock.  Apparently she had made reservations at a camp site weeks before.  Her intentions were to go whether she received good news or bad news.  In my mind, when she mentioned hiding, I imagined locking yourself in the dark and not coming out until you felt better.

So not what she meant.

This realization did not change my maternal instinct.  The instinct that was telling me my kid should not be alone and she needed me.

So,  "Sure.  If you want to go camping, we'll go camping."

The things that happened after this comment are sort of a blur right now.  She was excited.  She started telling me about the supplies she had.  Asking me about the supplies I had.  Listing things we would need to acquire.  If I had any doubts at all, they vanished that evening when we touched base and she revealed she had cried more once she got home from her day because I was coming, then because of her bad news.

This really means a lot to me, Mom!

I cleared my schedule.  I went and bought a pair of hiking boots and a compass.  I dug out the sleeping bag and packed warm clothes.  I grabbed my camera bag, rented a car, and jumped on the road at 7:30 Friday morning.

There is a ton of blurry in there.  There were also little comments here and there from my Part-Timer.  Little tidbits of information that caused me to raise an eyebrow on more than one occasion.  Things such as...

• It's going to be really cold so pack a lot of layers.
• We'll have limited provisions:  beans, beef jerky, and snack bars.
• There is a one mile hike into the campsite.
• There is an 'organic' toilet.
• Showers are available in the park, bring flip-flops.

While these things made me raise an eyebrow and ask questions, they didn't stop here.  Once I had driven five hours and finally laid my hands on her, she let loose with more information.

• We'll be using a lot of new gear I haven't tried out before.
• I've never camped at this remote site before.
• The one mile hike to camp will be with packs carrying our gear.
• We'll have to make two trips to include firewood and water.
• It's another two hour drive to the park.
• It will be getting dark when we arrive.

We had a few stops to make in town before we could leave.  I was on her like crazy.  Watching the clock.  Estimating sunset.  Trying to calculate the time to get there and to make the necessary trips to get set up.

It was crazy!

We drove like crazy.  We arrived at 5:15 pm.  The ranger station was already closed.  The shot I posted the other night was just as we pulled into the park.

I committed to posting every day this month and it was challenging at this location.  I spent a lot of time walking around with my phone to get a signal.  I then spent a lot of time baby-talking to my phone.  You know, encouraging it to work.  So, to this point, I've kept my word.  I wasn't able to cross-post to BlogHer, but I did try.  Just not enough coverage to make that happen.  Phone calls were almost impossible.  I was able to talk to the Man in Charge once when we got settled, and then I was able to leave him one voice mail.  Sending a text message was just as challenging.  One night sitting by the fire, I was able to text with my Full-Timer, but when I moved to the other side of the fire, no luck.

This was an action packed trip.

It will take a few posts to cover all that happened.

As much as I would love to sit here and write an epic tale, I have to give my dogs a bath.  They stink.  It's warm today, but the wind is blowing about 30 mph.  I really should be doing some bee chores, but this wind is making it impossible.  The bad news, it will be really cold starting tomorrow.  We are getting our first freeze tomorrow night.  This is why the dogs have to get there baths today!

They are snoring right now.

Sleeping right behind me.

Oblivious to the fact that I am about to ruin their day.

Sometimes you reach a point...then have to choose a direction.

Going to let you guys in on a little secret.  

I'm trusting you to keep this just between us.  

We're friends, right?

The name of my farm is CrossRoad Farm.

The little slogan I do my best to tag on everything... 

"Sometimes you reach a point...then have to choose a direction."

It has been with me my whole life.

At first glance, you may think my property is located at a crossroads.  Not hardly.  Or, located in Crossroads, Texas?  Not even close.  When I originally came up with this name, I lived at the end of a long, winding road, on a cul-de-sac.  At present, my property is located on a regular street.  I'm not at the end.  I'm not in the middle.  Just the second house down on the left.  It has never been about location.  It has always been about a state of mind.

Where am I?  
Who am I?
What's happening in my life?  
Where do I want to go?  
How do I want to get there?  
Who do I want to take along for the ride?  
Who am I kicking out of the truck?

It has always been about food to some extent.  I've had a passion for organic gardening since the beginning.  After planting the first seed, and enduring the challenges of nature, organic or natural gardening has been important to me.  My first challenge came when ants took up residence in my garden.  I did what most do.  I went to the store to get some ant killer. Ants can be mean, and I wanted them gone.  The problem came when I started reading the labels.

Ha!  My label reading affliction started long ago!  

I couldn't find anything that I wanted near my food, or the food I wanted to feed my children.  I was also going through a lot of bad stuff in my life.  Bad relationships.  Bad self-image.  Bad decision making.

The name just grew out of the dysfunction.

I wanted to start my own organic farm all the way back in the late 90's.  I was a member of the Texas Organic Grower's Association.  I subscribed to a ton of publications, like Acres, USA.  I even went to an organic gardening convention in Austin Texas.  It was a dream.  Then, life happened.  Jobs changed.  Relationships changed.  A plague of grasshoppers moved in.  I had to make decisions for my family.  My dream was moved to the back burner, and life moved front and center.  I'm not complaining.  I just had to do what I had to do.

Fast-forward to the beginning of this blog.  Completely different life.  Completely different relationships.  Completely different goals.  Completely different location.  Same dream.  Trying not to disrupt everyone's life in my household, I started small.  I had fun.  Crazy things happened.  Then, a drought and a second plague of grasshoppers that tried to rival the first I'd seen.  When out of the chaos, a new love happened.  My bees!  I really do love my bees.  It was unsuspecting.  It was challenging.  It's very rewarding.  Even though it's crazy hard at times, I love it.  I also love honey, and I feel very good about the crop I produce.

Yet, I'm still standing at that same CrossRoad!

A lot of things have changed in my life.  Life does that.  The only constant is change.  Whether you refuse to see it, and the world is changing around you.  Or, you grab on to it, and see where it takes you.  There is, and always will be CHANGE. There is change ahead.  I can feel it.  I can smell it.  I can even taste it a little.  I don't know what it is, and because I am controlling by nature, it frustrates me a little.  I like to have a plan.  I like to have a direction.  I don't like standing in the middle of a CrossRoad waiting to figure it out, but I am.  I'm just hanging out in the middle of the road.  Looking from one direction to the next.  Turning in a circle.  Trying to decide which path is the right one.

The facts are, I don't have enough information at this point to choose.

I've been here for a while.  Trying to define myself.  Trying to consolidate who I am.  Trying to wrap it all up in a pretty package.  I think this partly explains why I have been neglecting this blog.  I know I've been busy, but really, I've just been undecided.  I've been trying to define this space.  Trying to understand who I am and what I want to put out there about myself.  I don't have those answers, and I finally understand why.

I don't fit inside a pretty little package! 

I can not be wrapped up in paper with a pretty bow on top.  It doesn't work.  You can't shove me inside a gift bag with tissue paper either.  I'm that annoying present that can't be wrapped in a manner to make a presentable gift.  There is not a box I fit in, and even if you find a box large enough, it will be one larger than the paper is wide.  You're going to have to use two sheets to cover all the sides.  There's not enough ribbon to cover all the seams and hide the truth.

Not going to happen!

Today, of all days, this is finally okay with me.  I can't define, or redefine, this blog.  This blog is about me.  I'm a retired stay-at-home mom.  I'm an empty-nester.  I'm a wife.  I'm a Christian.  I'm a sinner.  I'm a gardener.  I'm a beekeeper.  I'm a do-it-your-selfer.  I'm a horse owner.  I'm a dog lover.  I'm a cat lover.  I'm the egg lady.  I'm the bee lady.  I'm a city girl. I'm a country girl.  I'm a rebel.

I'm all over the place!

If you come here to learn about bees?  Keep coming.  You'll learn a thing or two.  If you really want to learn about bees? Contact me.  I teach beekeeping.  If you want to learn about gardening?  You're going to have to dig in the archives.  We've had terrible weather and it has not been successful for a long time.  If you want to talk about raising kids?  I know a thing or two.  Shoot!  I'll do my best to answer.  If you want to read crazy stories that give you a little insight into who I am?  Check back daily.  You never know what you'll find.  I don't fit into a category, and today, I'm no longer going to try.

Oddly, I'm breathing a little easier.  

Now I feel better.

Not a lot left...

My words are few.

It's been busy.

The queens are busy.  This is solid capped brood!  For you non-bee people, this is awesome!

The workers are busy.  These girls are busy chowing down on some pollen patty.

Flower should get her stitches out tomorrow.  This will mean the end of walking around with a
built-in-pillow.  She will love it and hate it.  She frequently gets this doughnut stuck on things.  That makes it a total bummer, but it is nice to have a place to rest that big head.

More work getting done, these are just the photos at hand.  I did get stung the other day.  It really surprises me how much it hurts when that happens.  I mean, at some point, you would think I would get used to it, but NO!  Still hurts!  I did start to have a reaction, but knocked it out with some Benedryl.  Super Fun!

Here!

Late for class again!

What can I say?

I live a crazy life.

Since we last spoke - insanity has taken over.

First - I did eat sardines.  I don't think I am a huge fan.  It was recommended that I try a different, spicier version, and I may.  My family was concerned.  I did not make a tuna casserole, but they did question me regarding the whereabouts of the missing sardines.  Then there were some eye rolls followed by gagging sounds.

Second - My dog had surgery - AGAIN!  My vet says, "Oh, this is a minor surgery.  It has to be done, but she will only be uncomfortable for a few days, and knowing her, it probably won't even phase her."

That was a lie!

I brought home a dog that could not get up or lay down on her own.  She was heavily medicated.  She had to be carried outside to go to the restroom.  Going poop was out of the question because just assuming the position of going poop was painful.  So.  No poop!

For three days! 

This led to loads of gas.

We didn't name her Flower for nothing!

I saw two in the morning several nights in a row.  

I don't do well with that.

I am an eight-to-ten-hours-of-sleep-a-night-kind-of-girl.

The first night was pretty rough.  She progressed from there.  Today is day seven, and she is still stiff on that leg, but doing better, and pooping.

We all celebrated pooping.

If you are late to the game, my dog had ACL surgery on her right back leg in November of 2012.  Then, in January of this year, she had ACL surgery on her left back leg.  Upon doing that surgery, it was discovered that she had a luxating patella on the right back leg.

What is a luxating patella?  Her knee cap was moving around.

Was this a result of the first surgery?  Who knows.

I will give my veterinarian credit.  He did the knee cap surgery no charge!  I say I give him credit, but I have also given him a lot of money.  A lot of money for a dog that someone dumped in my area.  A dog that was free!

Nothing in this world is free.  Remember that.

This is also a dog that is my best friend.  Truly.  She is the most loyal animal I have ever owned.  We spend most of our days step-for-step.  She is also a Pit Bull.  I never liked Pit Bulls.  I thought that people that owned Pit Bulls were stupid.  Why would anyone do that?  Then, I fell in love with one.

Never say never.  Remember that.

I have learned a lot about Pit Bulls.  The most obvious thing - They are relentless!  What I mean by that is that whatever their thing is...they are relentless about it.  I can fully understand and appreciate that if a Pit Bull is given to being animal aggressive, it will be a problem.  It will be a problem because they are relentless about it.  I also believe that the way they are handled will make an impact on their life.  I mean that is an obvious opinion.  I also believe that some of them are bred to be aggressive.

That is the goal for some folks.  

Folks that I would personally do mean and horrible things to, but never-the-less.

What I mean by this is, even a young dog that is raised in a loving and gentle manner, can still have a high animal drive if those were the genetics that were bred for.  So, the trick is figuring out what their thing is.  For us, Flower's thing is me.  She is relentless about me.  She wants to be with me.  She waits for me if I walk out of the house.  She waits by the door I walk out of.  I know this because I have come in a different door to find her sitting at the original door.  What can I say?  She loves me.  I saved her.  Then, I saved her again.  And, again.  Oh, and one more time.

I have always told her that the day I picked her up off the street was her one chance.   There were no more chances.  If she does anything evil and out-of-line, that's it!  If you know me, you know I mean it.  So, because I mean what I say, and I love her, there are rules regarding her.  Flower is not left unsupervised with my other dogs.  I don't really think she would start anything, but my other dogs are Border Collies.  They are snobs.  Who is to say what they would do?  Someone gets snotty about something with Flower and pushes the issue, who wins?  I have no doubt that if provoked Flower would win.  I love all my dogs.  I would hate to see that happen.  So.  That is a rule.

Flower also wears a muzzle when we are out in public.  She has never tried to bite me or anyone else, but it is my experience out in public, there is always some small dog owner that lets their dog run around rudely.  Small dogs usually have big egos.  They also don't respect personal boundaries at times.  How do I know what Flower thinks about a small dog?  What if it looks like a squeaky toy to her?  What if she feels threatened by another dog entering her personal space?  Who would win?  Better Question.  Who would be blamed?  I love my dog too much to take that risk.

I also don't let Flower have as much of me as she wants.  I am her thing, remember?  I learned early on that she can and will take things too far, if given the chance.  Like sitting in my chair with me.  She loves it.  I don't really mind it, but if you let her do it all the time, she expects it.  She tries to insist upon it.

Not happening.

My house.

My rules.

I am pretty strict.  I was with my children, and I am with this dog.  I say what I mean, and I mean what I say.  I am fair, but firm.  If you don't have those capabilities, you should not own a Pit Bull.

Going on a tangent about my dog was not my intention today.  Not really sure what my intentions were, but I have to go to work now.  I am always running behind, but now it is ridiculous.  Just thought I would pop my head up for a little air for a moment.

How I met Flower - Click (here)

Flower's Injury - Click (here)

Happy Dog - Click (here)

Out of here!

Enough with the bees...

I know I have been bombarding you with the bees lately.

I am not done with that...yet.

It is just that time of year.

I do have something different to share with you today.  May, or may not mean a thing to you.  To me, it is proof that there is light at the end of the tunnel.  It shows that when you put your head down and get to work, things can come around.  It means that even though it may have gotten a little bit rough for a while, it was all worth it.  No idea what I am talking about?

May look like any old dog, running around playing with a ball.

This is her favorite ball, and it has been months since she played with it.  No exaggeration.  I would estimate that it has been closer to a year since she has played with it.

Blown ACL...crippling.

A 3 year old dog that can't move around...devastating.

New titanium knee...crazy.

Happy dog...priceless.

She really loved her people before all of this.  She definitely loves her people now.  As her main person, this dog and I, we have been through some stuff together.  I wouldn't change a minute of it, but whew.  I am glad that's over.

You may be crazy if...

Ever have those moments when you wonder if you could possibly be going crazy?

Happening more and more around here.

Every morning I do two things:

1. Make the coffee.
2. Feed the dogs.

I always heat up chicken stock for the dog food, and put cream in my coffee.  Sound like two completely different things, but the other day I almost put chicken stock in my coffee.  I managed to stop myself pre-pour, but still... what the heck?

Thinking I had dodged a bullet, I moved on.

The very next day, I poured cream in the dog food.

Ughh!

Thumper

Ever mentioned that I have a rabbit?

She is crazy and mean.  She thumps her back foot on the bottom of her cage and scares the dogs.  It makes a really loud noise, and I can not find any particular reason for her to do it, other than she enjoys it.  Most rabbits make the thumping sound as a warning to other rabbits.  I have never been sure why she does.

The real thing is that she does it at all times of the day or night.  When it happens, my three 50+ pound dogs, run for the hills.  I usually find them trembling in a corner and you can't pay them to come out.  Sort of funny, but not really.  On a day like today, not funny.  It started at 4:00 am.  The first thing that woke me, the thumping.  The second thing that prevented me from going back to sleep, the pit-bull under the bed panting.

Seriously.

I did what any sane person would do, I waited to see if it would stop.  It didn't.  The more she thumped, the more Flower freaked out.  Finally, I got up.  I turned the bath room light on and tried to calm the dog down.

Not happening.  

I was trying to be quiet.

Not working.

I woke up the Man in Charge.  He wanted to know why I was up?

Really?  

He hadn't heard a thing.  Then, I went and checked on the rabbit.  There was nothing after her as far as I could tell.  She had made a mess of her cage and spilled hay all over the place, but that is not unusual.  I topped off all her food, and walked away.

The next question is, "What do I do now?"

Before I could really begin the argument with myself regarding the pro's and con's of staying up or going back to bed...it started all over again.

I just made the coffee.

I give.

My Sincerest Apologies

Okay.  Apparently some of you don't have the sense of humor that I thought you had.  It was just a little joke.  No harm.  No foul.  You should all know that the moment I hit "Publish", I knew that I would pay for this in some way.  You see, it is just how things work.  So do not think for one second that I am not aware that there will be a time when I will pay for my prank.  Hopefully it won't be by falling out of the attic, but it will happen, and I will know.

It was so worth it.

Nothing too exciting happening around here lately.  Just cold.  Really cold.  So cold that I have fallen in love with my coveralls all over again.  I don't know how I ever survived without them.  They even make them for women now.  Sort of funny, but all that means is a little area gathered in the back at the waist that makes it look like you are a little less square.  I say, "Whatever!"  They work.  So most of my days and nights have been spent pulling them on and going outside.  Then, coming back in and pulling them off.  I am sure I am burning a number of calories in this exercise, but I have no way of calculating the amount.  

Taking care of animals in the cold is always fun.   We feed them.  Then clean up after them.  Haul warm water, because it's the least I can do.  A regular schedule of events that seem to be working because the chickens are well.  The egg numbers are back up, and the little ones are not so little.  The rabbits in the yard are multiplying everyday.  The horses are a little frustrated with the lack of running around, but over all doing well. The bird feeders have been covered with a variety of birds, and the cat has been moving back and forth from the barn to the house.  That leaves the bees, and I hope to check on them tomorrow.

Between all of those chores, I have been trying to keep everything cleaned up from all the running in and out, and still taking care of the dog.  My lovely dog.  She is still progressing nicely, but the cold weather is making her feel a little more hyper than she should.  She can not understand why I won't let her run and play when it snows.  It's not like it snows around here all the time.  It has made me miss the days of just opening the door and letting them out to do their business.  Standing inside where it is warm and opening the door to let them back in when they are done.  Even with coveralls, it is not fun wondering around the yard at the other end of a leash trying to find the perfect spot.  Seems to me if it is below freezing and the wind is cruising, the logical place to go is the south side of the house.  

No, that is not true.  

The more I try to figure out this part of my dog's behavior, the more I realize that when it comes to finding the perfect place in the yard to poop...I know nothing.  

So you see...I digress. 

Man's Best Friend

Can we learn things from Man's Best Friend?  I think we can.  Unconditional love.  Forgiveness.  Loyalty.  Blah, blah, blah.  If you own a dog, you know what I am talking about.  Not to mention that they listen to whatever you have to say, and they don't interupt or talk back.  They totally agree with every word. 

Where else can you find a friend like that?

They can be a total life saver.  In many ways, not just the literal meaning.  Sometimes they give us purpose.  Maybe we are depressed and don't want to get out of bed that day.  Doesn't matter.  They will bug you until you have no choice.  They will also keep you on a schedule if you don't watch them.  They like to walk at the same time, eat at the same time, potty at the same time.  I even know a dog that knows when the mail runs at the local post office.  At 9:30 every morning, she expects her first outing of the day.  She also has a regular stop in the afternoon at a friend's house for a slice of turkey.

He even heats it up for her.

She may be small, but she is mighty.

They also have the memory of an elephant, and you have to be very clever to fool them.  The above little girl came to my house one day.  I tried to feed her turkey. 

Not having it.

She eats turkey pastrami when she comes to my house.  I have also been known to scramble her an egg. 

Take that turkey guy.

I had to bribe her with salami the other day before she would even look at the turkey.  I have discovered another trait we may want to consider picking up from our four legged friends.

My Full-timer loves strawberries.  I totally agree with her on this topic.  We tried last year to grow them in pots.  It was miserable.  I wrote about it somewhere back there in the archives, but the single miserable moment that stands out was chasing them around the back yard in a wind storm.  We were not successful in that endeavor.

This year I expanded and relocated the Herb garden.  In the empty location, I planted two varieties of strawberries.  What does this have to do with our furry friends?  Dogs take the most direct route, where ever it is they go.  No extra steps.  No diversions.  No detours.  The shortest line between A and B, that's the line they travel.  When you stop and think about it, it is admirable.  Sort of wish that I had lived some of my days with this mentality.  No indecision, just forward motion.

All fine and dandy, unless you are talking about my strawberries.  I made some changes in that bed when the herbs moved out, and every day, on more than one occasion, there was a dog standing on my berry plants.  Before really analyzing the behaviour, I yelled and screamed and threw a fit.  Being a slow learner at times, I finally realized that their behaviour is as natural to them as their skin.  I was the one that was going to have to make changes.  I try to be very adult at times.  Admitting when I am wrong.  Acknowledging great habits when I see them.

My answer.

I planted a shrub at one end of the bed and a rose bush at the other.

Nice looking shrub, huh?

Not the point of the story, but this was a beautiful shrub when I planted it.  Then the grasshoppers ate it.  I left it in place because it is serving its purpose where the dogs are concerned.  I will replace it in the fall.  Maybe the little demons will be gone by then.

The rose bush is fairing nicely though. 

Once the dogs were diverted.  The battle began for the strawberries.  Sort of a snooze you loose situation.  The fight was short lived between the Full-timer and myself.  The grasshoppers like stawberries also.  They are leaving the plants alone, so maybe this won't be a total loss.

Moral of the story - takes some cues from your furry friends.

No dilly-dallying. 

Get to the point. 

Directly.

Also, if you have pets, pick your battles.  Be the smarter of the two or four.  I can't change they way they think, only the direction they take.

I asked and you responded.

I assigned you a couple of tasks, pre-holiday weekend, and thank you for participating.  I just wanted to know if I had left any loose ends that you may be wondering about.  I received the following email:

I would like to see pictures of the golf ball babies and any plans of more breeding adventures.  are there roosters? or did I know this and forget.   what are you planting in the garden?  update on cripple horse and dog?

This will have to be a two part answer, due to the fact that I don't have any current pictures to share.  So, here we go.

1.  Pictures of the Golf Ball babies to come.  They really are pretty birds.

2.  I have no plans for breeding, and absolutely no plans for a rooster.  I know my luck, and he would be the meanest rooster in town.  One of the Golf Ball babies was a rooster, and like all the others, he found a new home.  If I have another hen that goes broody, I will probably feel obligated to get her a few chicks to raise.

Let's just keep that between us for now.

3.  The garden is on the slim side this year due to many delays.  I will include pictures when I post pictures of the Golfers.  I am a little happy about this because the grasshoppers are back with a vengeance.  I was hoping they wouldn't be so bad this year, but no luck.  To give you a quick rundown, there are several varieties of tomatoes, peppers, endless herbs, and cucumbers.  I am hoping that the fall garden will be bigger.

4.  The cripple horse is almost at the six month mark.  It takes approximately one year to grow new hoof from top to bottom, and she is still standing.  I let her out of her run for the first time on Monday.  This was the first time that she had been out in an open pasture in six months, and I held my breath.  She was as shocked as I was worried, and only came to the edge and started eating the grass that had been out of her reach only moments before.  It took her a couple of minutes to make her way out, but then she just proceeded to eat.  My next worry was getting her back in.  I did not want to have to chase her around, and I felt certain that she would not come willingly. 

Wrong.

I grabbed a scoop of feed, and she followed me right in.  I let her out again on Tuesday and will continue to do so a little each day.  Her doctor will be out the middle of the month, and we will do another set of x-rays to see if we made any progress.  It is more just for the knowledge, than anything else.  There may be different things we can try with her shoes or what not, but as long as she is doing what she is doing, we won't have to make any hard decisions on her behalf.

5.  The cripple dog is good.  We had to opt out of spending thousands of dollars on surgery for her, and she has done amazingly well.  She has a few built in features that help her.  One is that she is very front end heavy.  The dog can do the equivalent of a pull up.  She literally can lift her back end off the ground with her front end.  I know this because she does it when she wants to get in my chair with me.  She puts her front feet on the edge of the cushion, rocks the chair forward and holds it down, then pulls her back legs up.  All with my weight in the chair.  She puts her foot down, and she puts weight on it.  She does a little weird thing when she is at a full run, but you have to be looking for it to see it.  Other than that, she acts the same.  She is happy.  She runs and plays.  She loves life and she hasn't slowed down a minute.  I think she is very happy that we stopped the truck that day.

As soon as it stops raining, I will takes pictures.

Not so typical morning

After explaining to you the day I witnessed in the Big City, I thought it would be funny to consider what a City Person would think about one of my days.  The moment I start thinking along these lines, I start having anything but a typical day.

Man In Charge off to work.  There is not a lot that I do to make that happen, I just witness it.

I really do love all that you do for me Man in Charge.

Next, I try to wake up my Full-Timer.  The semester is over, and it is not an easy task these days.  It is almost like she is in a coma.

In the mean time, I start cleaning up the kitchen a little because not everything got done last night.

blah...not a favorite chore.

After making three trips to drag my Full-Timer out of bed, she finally shows up.  I ask if she can let the dogs out because they are still waiting on me.

Belle, my sweet little beast, must have been doing her real job, which is watching for the cat.  The minute the door was open she took off screaming around the corner.  She looks happy here, but she can sound vicious when she is in hot pursuit of the cat.  By the time that we realized what was happening, she was gone.  She was out of the yard and heading down the street.  Mind you, I have had no coffee at this time.  I haven't even made the coffee yet.  I also have no shoes on, but am forced to go after this little monster. 

The minute she hears my voice, she know she is in trouble.  She stops and turns back round. The only problem is that she has someone that completely looks up to her, following right behind her. That someone should under no circumstances, ever leave the yard.  At the moment that they meet in the middle of the road, they both know that they are in big trouble.  Belle comes back to the driveway and stops.  She knows she is getting a spanking, but she will be damned if she is going to walk all the way back to the house to get it.  Flower, on the other hand, takes a more practical approach.  She decides to just come back into the yard and do her business.  Acting as if she has no idea what my problem is, and, "Oh, hey!  What are you doing out here?  Are you mad?  At me?  What's the problem?  I was just hanging out with Belle."  After they get their lectures, they both head to the house like nothing has happened, and, "Oh, by the way, what's for breakfast?"  This is only made funnier by the fact that I have a third dog.  A dog that we had to look for once this was all over because we had no idea where she was.  This dog, the good one, that only occasionally sneaks things out of the trash, went back to bed.  She tends to have more of a, "Wake me when it's time to eat." attitude.  

Once we had all the mongrels wrangled, inside, and eating their breakfast, I was able to make the coffee.  I love coffee.  I need coffee.  I love hot coffee.  I love Iced coffee.  Not so much on the flavored coffees, but I can handle a latte or similar coffee beverage on occasion.  Once the coffee was on, we split up the chores.  My Full-Timer was headed to the barn to feed and clean stalls.  I was going to finish up the kitchen chores and make syrup for my bees.  Yes, I have added something else that needs to be fed to my menagerie.

After a little practice, I finally have the syrup making thing down.  I am supposed to make a 2-1 syrup ratio with sugar and water.  Sounds easy enough, but we are doing a 2-1 by weight.  Still not totally difficult, especially if you know a gallon of water weighs a little over 8lbs.  I know this because my husband used to run a water bottling plant. 

You know, back in the day when it was cool to carry around a bottle of water?

Loving power tools like I do, I use my Kitchen Aid stand mixer for this task.  I know some of you were worried for a moment with that statement, but I consider small appliances to be power tools.  It makes it a lot easier to convince someone that you need a small appliance if you refer to it as a power tool.  Especially if the someone that you are having the discussion with is a tool junkie.

Ladies, you know the type of guy I am talking about.  There is not a single project that can be started without the purchase of a new tool.

I have no problem with purchasing tools, or being a tool junkie.  Truth is, a little of that has rubbed off on me, especially now that I apply the term to kitchen appliances as well. 

See what I am saying?

I don't really care for making things daily.  If I can make a batch of something in bulk, and then use it over a period of time.  I am all over it.  The syrup thing falls into this category.  I put 5lbs of sugar into my mixing bowl, and then add 5-5 1/2 cups of boiling water.  I mix this using my whisk attachment, but only on low speed.  This seems to dissolve all of the sugar better than the regular mixing attachment.  I turn it on, then walk away.  Once I can see through the syrup, I know the sugar is dissolved.  I start with 5 cups of water and then slowly add more if I need to.  I go ahead and bottle this syrup using quart size jars.  When I head out to feed the bees, I just grab two jars and a wet towel.  The towel is to clean off the feeder lids when I get out there.  Then I just bring the empties back and run them through the dishwasher. 

No problem, right?

On this particular morning, I am standing at the counter as the mixer is running.  I am looking out the window.  Really, I am just waiting for the coffee pot to beep so that I can get my morning fix.  When who do I see coming down the driveway?

I knew he had to be out there somewhere because the dogs had been after him.  I suspect he had been hanging around the house waiting for his own breakfast when the chase ensued.  Well, he was waiting no longer.  Here comes my little guy.  My little guy that is already starting his summer slim down routine by shedding ridiculous amounts of hair.  My little guy that really has the shortest legs I have ever seen on a cat.  My little guy that has a huge Field mouse in his mouth.  Like, I had to really look to figure out what it was because it was so big.  He has his head held high.  He has a definite swagger going.  He doesn't even glance at the house as he walks right down the middle of the driveway.  He knows there are stupid dogs that have already gotten a spanking today, probably watching him go by.

Take that, stupid dogs!

He heads all the way around the drive to the barn.  The barn where my Full-Timer is cleaning the stalls.  As I shift from one window to the other, he gets to the door with his trophy.  Just as he gets there, she comes out with a bucket of water to empty.  She sees him.  He sees her.  He drops his prize at her feet, as if to show it off.  The mouse starts running around in circles.  He starts after it.  She gets out of their way, looks at the house momentarily, then turns and goes back in the barn.  I know exactly what is running through her mind at this time...

"I am not dealing with that."

I step outside at about the same time that he catches his mouse again.  He sees me and stops.  Simultaneously two chickens start fighting in the middle of the pasture.  I mean, going at it like roosters.  I am distracted by this activity, trying to figure out what their problem is.  They continue to fight for what seems like forever.  Just as I am considering putting some shoes on and running out there, another hen from behind the barn comes up and puts the smack down on both of them.  That was that.  They all three went about their business.

My attention goes back to Kid.  He has dropped his prized possession again, but it isn't moving this time.  I notice that a dog is sticking it's head out the door behind me.  Kid notices the same thing.  All of a sudden the mouse decides to stop playing dead and takes off under the horse trailer.  Kid forgets the dog, and the pursuit of the mouse ensues.  I tried to yell at my Full-Timer because this would be the only moment she could stop the murder that was about to take place, but either she didn't hear me or she was ignoring me.  Either way, he wasted no time catching his prey once more.

When she came in from the barn, she was telling me all about it.  I had to tell her that I watched the whole thing happen.  She said she looked down at him, and said, "Kitty, that is so sad."  Then left him to it.  After he finished doing whatever it was that he did, he came inside the barn looking for his breakfast. 

Talk about a rat race.

It is not even 9:00 yet.



Life in the Big City

I mentioned writing a post from the Big City.

Can I just say that sometimes, I totally crack myself up?

Why would I go to the Big City?

My Full-Timer needed someone to go with her for a job interview.

Of course, I would go.  I know that she is ready to get out of here.  Don't think for a second that while I am dragging her to catch possums, or relocate skunks, or move bee hives, that I don't know she is planning her way out.  I don't mind that one bit.  I want her out of here.  Not because I don't love her, I love both my girls, but I want them out in the world.  Living as happy, self-sufficient, productive people.  So, you want someone to go the the Big City - I am your girl. 

Besides getting up at 5:00 in the morning, to be out of here by 6:00, I had a pretty easy day planned.  I had located a coffee shop with free Wi-fi, and packed my bag for the day.  Traffic was pretty easy and we made it in no time.  Once we went our separate ways, I located my coffee shop and settled in. 

This is where the fun started.

I used to live in the city.  I used to live in Northern California.  In areas that were so populated you couldn't turn around with out running into someone.  I also traveled occasionally for work.  Mostly I worked trade shows, so you can imagine, they were always in places like Chicago or Atlanta.  I also used to live in heavily populated areas in North Texas.  Can I just say,

"Time does change things."

My first thought,

"I really love my husband."

I not only thought it, I told him the first chance that I spoke with him. 

After ordering a cup of joe, I was able to position myself so that I was facing the front window of the cafe.  This put me looking out onto the Business District.  I was there early enough that I witnessed all the good people of the city coming in to work.  Almost looking like robots with heads down and  faces set.

Day two of the week and ready, set, go!

My ability to type and not even look at the screen or the keyboard worked in my favor.  There were words coming out of my head, but my eyes were watching the passers by.  Some in business suits.  Some in casual attire.  A lot of women that were very business on top, but wearing party shoes on the bottom.  

What is up with that?

Secretly protesting dress codes?

Then there were the dogs.  Dogs dragging people.  People dragging dogs.  The dog walker that I saw about five times that morning, casually walking about six dogs at a time.  Big men with little dogs.  Little women with giant dogs.  Dogs that were obviously scared and nervous, probably wondering if this was all there was to life.  Dogs that owned the world, and wouldn't have it any other way.

There was a lot of hustle and bustle of activity, and then they all seemed to settle into their work day.  That is when the delivery trucks started showing up.  After a short flurry of activity in that department, it was break time.  One at a time, two at a time, and in some small groups, they poured out of the buildings and into the coffee shop.  Some happy and looking for the next energy boost.  Some complaining about their day already.  They couldn't stand their co-workers, hated their boss, had the worst customers, etc.  Once again, they slowly disappeared.  Now mind you, all the time I am typing away at the computer, but still looking and listening to all that was happening around me.  It was almost as fascinating as watching my bees.

By about 10:30, I was starving.  I asked around to see what was available for lunch.  After getting several suggestions, I typed a little longer, then packed up my bag.  After a short walk, I found a spot that looked good, but just a little after 11:00 and it was already starting to get packed.  I placed my order to go and waited.  Once I had my lunch, I quickly crossed the street to a fountain with seating area.  Still people watching, I started my lunch.

Public Service Announcement:  Do not feed pigeons unless you are done eating yourself.  These little birds get very pushy.  Seeing as this was the closest thing I had experienced all day that reminded me of home, I didn't really mind, but I did make a mental note of the fact.

Back at the coffee shop, I noticed that there had been a shift change.  All new faces working the counter, and here we go again.  I started writing and people watching.  The next wave of entertainment came from all the good people of the world that were walking their dogs on their lunch breaks.  I was very pleased to see this. 

"You go, city dog owners...don't make them stay home alone all day."

Then once lunch died down, all was quiet again until afternoon break.  The coffee shop also sold frozen yogurt with fresh fruit.  Seeing as it was a nice day, the lines started.  If they weren't interested in their caffeine fix, then it was the sugar high that they needed.

I vaguely remember having to do all of these things.  At the same time, it all seems so far away.  I joke frequently about preferring mucking out horse stalls or cleaning the chicken coop to the corporate B.S. that I used to have to deal with, but it really isn't a joke.  My world is very removed from this place.  My world operates at a much different pace.  I can remember a time when I thought that this is what I wanted.

Glad that's over.

Happy Work

I have had some interesting jobs in my day.  I can safely say they were all out of necessity.  Always being one that felt it was important to support myself and my family, I did try to make sure the next job was always better than the last.  I also lived by, "I was looking for a job when I found this one."  

Some examples...

Pharmacy Clerk - Not my cup of tea.

Restaurant Hostess - Boring. 

Waitresses, be nice to your hostess, she can make or break your night.

Waitress - Customers, you should be nice to your waitress.  I have seen a few things.
 
Convenience Store Clerk - 11:00 to 7:00 shift
Absolutely miserable, and you would not believe what they see when the bars let out.  Only made it one week.
 

Drill Press Operator - Character building

The actual job was mind-numbing, shift work.   The 7:00 to 3:00 shift.  Are you kidding?  The character lesson came from a rule imposed by the manager.  If you were late to work, you were stuck working in the paint shop for the day.  This was even more mind-numbing.  The paint fumes, coupled with the fact that the paint sprayer, operator, dude listened to the same song, every day, over and over again.  What song?  Bad to the Bone.  I am not exaggerating even a little.  The same song.  Over, and over, and over.  I seriously go into convulsions to this day when I here that song.

Pre-Planned Funeral Arrangement Sales - Only lasted two weeks. 

One week of training and one week of sales.  I made my first sale to a man that just found out his wife had cancer.  He was extremely grateful, and glad for the help I provided in making those arrangements for them, but it was sad.  Then, they celebrated back at the office when I shared the news.  It made me depressed.  How do you celebrate that?  I resigned the same day.

Manager - Braum's Ice Cream - Where do I start?

If you have a problem with Ice cream consumption, I recommend working there.  It will solve your problem.  You will develop a deep dislike for ice cream and little league baseball.  I was also required to wear white.  It still makes me laugh.  The shake machine and I had a regular disagreement, and it was not unusual for me to come home several different colors.  Not to mention that managing teenage kids is exactly what you would expect it to be.

I know you are having fun, but I think we will stop here.  I feel like you have a little more insight into my weirdness.  So, it is easy to see why most of what I do these days is Happy Work.  What do I mean by that?  I really enjoy my life.  There are a few things that aren't really great to do, but in the grand scheme of things, the worst task on the list is better than anything else I have ever done.  After I grew up a little and survived the list above, I spent my fair share of time in the corporate world.  In my opinion, mucking out a stall full of manure is a lot more fun than the day-to-day B.S of corporate politics.

I owe all of the credit for this life I am living to two very important people.  First, Jesus, He is more than I deserve.  Second, the Man in Charge, for building a life that allows me to be here.  I should spend more time thanking both of them.  I hope they know how grateful I am that they are both very understanding with me?

I am not the only one that is happy about going to work.  Look at this face.

This dog is an old girl.  She is Eight.  Does she know that?  See that ear that is bent over?  It has been that way her whole life.  She never holds it up unless she is facing into the wind, and even then, she can't take the credit for the upright position.  We gave her an Indian name once...Dog of the Broken Ear.  She also has a serious affliction.  We refer to it as H.H.S.- Heavy Head Syndrome.  She is famous for standing up, but resting her chin on the seat of the dining room chair.  It looks very strange, but it is what she does when she is waiting.  Waiting for what?  To go to work. 

She has a serious cat addiction, but we try not to talk about it.  Although, in her mind, this is her primary job. 

Where is the cat? 
What has he eaten? 
Is he in the house again? 
How fast can he run? 
Does he know that I just want to lick him? 
I may possibly want to eat him, but I definitely want to lick him.
Have you seen him?
Which way did he go?

She has been known to chase a chicken or two, but only if they are on her side of the fence.  She tried chasing a horse once, but just as the Man in Charge yelled for her to lay down, our mare kicked her square in the jaw.  I was not home, but by the time I got back she had a nice baseball size lump on her chin.  She let me ice it down, and looked at me intently as the story was relayed to me.  The Man in Charge thought he had gotten her killed.  She was out cold by the time he got to her, but she came back around.  She just kept looking back and forth between us as he told the story.  Looking at him like, "He did this to me." To this day, if he says, "Down!"  She drops.

Her real job is to hang out and keep an eye on things.  She likes to sit in the back of the truck if you are working around the barns.  She stays put, but she watches everything.  She helped me and my Full-Timer dispose of a nest of mice that had taken up residence in our tack trunk once.  That is a whole other story in it's self.  Mostly, she likes to position herself in the yard where she can see front and back.  She will lay there while I do whatever I need to do.  You don't have to worry about a thing.  She has your back the whole time. 

It doesn't matter if you are just going out to work, or if you have just come in from work, her face looks the same.  More to come on her, and on what we have been doing.  As a side-note,

Hey Paint Sprayer, Operator Dude,

Are you out there?
Do you have any brain cells left? 
You crazy, paint huffer. 
Working with you was torture, and you knew it, and you enjoyed it.

I feel better now.

Buried, but Alive

I am still here.  Apparently, I still have slacker tendancies.  I won't apologize for them because I said I would stop doing that.  None of this should come as a surprise to any of you because you really should know me by now.  Here is the run-down of what has been happening...

1.  I had to get out of this screen just now, so that I could go back and see the last post that I wrote.

2.  Sad. 

3.  Made even worse by that fact that I just went back again, to see the date of the last post.

4.  Real sad.

5.  The bottom section of the bee hives (called the brood box), are assembled and painted.  Painted a very nice Martha Stewart shade, Fennel Seed.  Do you think that is what she intended when she came up with her line of paints?  Have I ever told you how much Martha irritates me?  It is a love/hate thing, and I will save it for another day.  Back to the bee hives...they are in the bee yard, at bee school, with bees living in them.  I pick them up next month and drive them home.

6.  I have rearranged several things in the chicken pen, and built three new nesting boxes.  The Golf babies, which are not babies now, are living happily with the big girls.  All of the anxiety of the pecking order has been worked through, and the girls have all been pretty happy these days.  The weather is good, the grass is green, and the bugs are a'plenty.

7.  Once the flock became aquainted with each other, I decided to do a little personal hygiene treatment, and give them all a good dusting for mites.  This took place one morning when I was the only one home.  It took about an hour to catch and dust all of the girls.  The more interesting part came towards the end when I was down to about ten girls.  Being the last ten, they were the most efficient at evasion, and I had definitely put in some time towards my cardio work out.  Never one to shrug off a challenge, with the Rocky theme song playing in my head, I proceeded to catch the final few.  One of the Golf babies was among the group, and when I caught her, she flipped out.  Not being handled a lot by humans, she was certain she would die, and was acting accordingly.  To my surprise, Izzy came to her rescue.  That crazy chicken charged me twice in an attempt to free her little one.  Let me remind you that once Izzy was done with the maternal thing, that was it.  She never looked back.  I couldn't believe she still felt compelled to stick her neck out for her young. 

For those of you who may be concerned, no, she did not literally stick her neck out.  It still attaches her head to her body, and she did not end up in the frying pan.  I may elude to it, but unless the family is starving - won't ever happen.

8.  On the same morning that I spent chasing chickens around to groom them, my neighbor was robbed.  Did I mention that I was home?  Did I mention that another neighbor was home?  Did I mention that no one saw a thing?  This was very disturbing for a number of people.

9.  When I tried to express my concern over the robbery to my Part-Timer.  She laughed.  When I tried to explain my uneasy feeling about the event, she laughed again.  Getting a little more than irritated, I adamantly expressed my concerns, and the fact that when faced with a situation like this, one would only have about 10 seconds to react and respond.  Still laughing, she said, "I feel sorry for the guy that tries to break in our house when you are home, Mom.  You will spend the first couple of seconds trying to figure out what is going on, and the next eight seconds, mad as hell because 'how dare someone' do this to you!"  Still mad at her, I had to laugh.  She knows me well.
 
10.  I have spent days trying to get may garage back in order.  I think I spent one entire day in the same corner.  I am not done.

11.  Finding a place for old electronics is not easy.  No one wants them.  You can't give them away.  I did find out that Best Buy's Geek Squad will take them to their final resting place.  I will let you know if that is actually true.

12.  When you spend 20 minutes walking around in the dark, calling for your cat to no avail, then hear a large group of coyotes howling all around you...your hair will stand on end.  I held my breath, and prayed that where ever he was, he stayed there.  After going outside every 15 minutes or so, and calling for him, he finally showed up...wet, muddy, eyes huge, and breathing very had.  He now sleeps inside and he knows it.  Dogs be damned, his words-not mine, he has earned his place inside.

13.  In the fall, when you think it is a good idea to plant rye for the winter, don't.  With the rain we have had, I can watch it grow, and it is too wet to mow it.

14.  I want a cow.  I want to raise it and eat it, but I am afraid that I will name it Chuck, and we will own it forever.

15.  I am fascinated with Bulls.  This fascination is renewed every spring when I see a huge bull on one side of the road, and a herd of young heifers on the other side of the road.  You know he is saying, "Hey Baby!  How you doing?"

16.  My Full-Timer and I moved approximately 70 cubic feet of compost this past weekend.  May I add that it was the most gorgeous compost I have seen in a long time.  Yes, I can describe it that way.

17.  I spent time running my tiller, and again was impressed that it started.  However, by day two, it decided it didn't want to run continuously.  I am putting it in the shop this week.  This scares me.  I am always afraid that if I put it in, it will never come out.  Have I mentioned that this farm is poor, and we can not afford new equipment.

18.  I have seen my chiropractor already this season.  He works on a barter system.  Eggs, honey, tea, etc. = full spinal adjustment.

19.  March Madness is crazy this year.  Have you watched any of the games?  My bracket is a wreck.

20.  Every year it is my job to get the tax information together and organized, and the Man in Charge handles the rest.  Guess what?  I keep putting him off.  Telling him that I will get to it when it rains.  Well, it rained.  I am stalling.

21.  To top it all off, I am sick.  I came down with a nasty head cold last week.  I picked it up at the pharmacy.  I usually use the drive thru window, but I had to go inside for a few things.  Sick people go in there, and they share.

These are a few of the things that I have thought about sharing with you over the past days, but haven't made it to the computer.  I landed here today, and am sure that I am forgetting something.  I may post random pictures to illustrate some of the above mentioned items. 

The Proverbial Farm

Did you grow up thinking that there were magical farms out in the country somewhere?  Places where wonderful people live that take in unwanted dogs, cats, horses, you name it?  You know, the place where dogs get to run free and live out their days?  Where cats get to hang out in barns and chase mice and do all the things cats love to do?  Where horses get put out to pasture to live out their days munching green grass and having a wonderful life?  You may have heard of these farms when your parents took one of your beloved pets there.  Maybe a dog that was struggling with behavior issues?  It could be a cat that your little brother developed allergies to?  Maybe it was that horse that got really sick and couldn't be ridden any longer?  Have you heard this story before?  If you haven't experienced it personally, maybe you have told this story.  Or, if I were a betting kind of girl, you at least know someone that is all too familiar with this scenario.

I now live at the proverbial farm. 

We live in a pretty okay area, and we have been there for quite a while.  I think people with animals they need to get rid of just drive around out there, and think, "This looks like a nice place."  I have one neighbor that adopted a dog that had been roaming our street, drinking water out of horse troughs, and eating whatever he could find.  I have another neighbor that has a couple of cats he has allowed to take up residence in his shop.  I have another neighbor that woke up one morning to find a whole litter of puppies in her flower bed.  Can I add that it was the flower bed in the back of her house, right next to her porch?  Someone took a lot of care in that placement.  They wanted to make sure that they were discovered right away.

When I see one of these lost souls roaming our street, I usually try to catch the thing and see if it has a tag.  I have returned many dogs to their rightful owners.  If I am not that lucky, I usually stick them in my horse trailer and make a trip to town to see if there are any lost animal posters at the post office, feed store, or our one and only gas station.  I have had luck with this a couple of times.  If not, I quickly post this information in hopes that there is an owner somewhere looking for a lost pet.  I rarely have luck with this option.  If none of the above work out, I try my best to find a new home for the beast.  I have had some luck with this.  Once I did have to call the county animal control guy out.  I always make this my last resort.  They are so overwhelmed in our county that once an animal is brought in, they have three days to be claimed by their owner.  The fourth day is their adoption day.  The fifth day they are put down.  These are not very good odds in my opinion.

While I have never been sent a horse, I did find a random, white cow walking down the road one day.  I was actually working out along the roadside, trying to clean up the fence line with my weed-eater.  Sometimes I feel like that task is a priority.  I don't know if you have personal experience running a weed-eater, but they can be rather loud.  I was working, in my own special world, with my mind wondering to whatever it wanted, when I felt like someone was staring at me.  Ever get that feeling?  I turned around, and there she was, just standing there.

I don't have a lot of experience with cows.  I do know that Momma cows can be very protective, and Bulls are a whole other story.  She was just looking at me.  I turned my weed-eater off, and slowly put it down.  Then I briskly made my way to the house.  I called the Man in Charge to let him know I had a knew friend.  He asked me where she was, and when I looked out front, I couldn't see her any longer.  I moved to another window, and now she was in my backyard.  He told me to go out and put our horses in the barn, then see if I could get her into the pasture.  I remember expressing some concerns about this plan.  What if she came after me?  He shrugged me off, and told me I was being ridiculous.  After getting the horses in the barn, I tried to get her in the pasture.  No luck.  We ran around the yard several times, and on more than one occasion, she squared off with me to let me know that this was not acceptable to her.  Eventually she found her way back to the street and took off.

I did have to call animal control that day.  More because I knew they could get in contact with the local ranchers in our area and see who was missing the animal.  He showed up, I explained what happened and pointed him in the right direction.  Later he told me that once he got to the end of our road, she was easy to spot.  She had jumped a fence in a large pasture, and she was the only white cow, leading a herd of black cows, across to the other side.  I guess they were curious as to what she was up to and where she was headed.  I feel certain they got the situation straightened out, and she found her way back to her original herd.  You can bet on it with cows because that is a lot of money walking around. 

My neighbors are not the only ones that have elected to take pity on a poor abandoned animal.  We have taken in one ourselves.  Boy, has it been an adventure.  This is a story about Flower, and how she came to the proverbial farm.  I felt like I should tell it due to the previous post.  For the number of animals that we have seen, it has managed to work out for a few lucky ones.

This is Flower.

She had been with us a while when I took this photo.  You see, someone had dumped her out somewhere between our place and a nearby town. I do not know why people think this is a good idea.  I know there are a million different circumstances that could lead to this decision.  I just have to try to believe that they exhausted a list of other options first.

I had seen Flower running around a couple of times.  She was always off in the distance in an open pasture, but I had noticed her for some reason.  One Sunday, on my way home from a marathon shopping excursion at Sam's, the Full-Timer and I were squeezed into the only available space left in our vehicle.  We were seriously covering ground on the home stretch.  Just as we topped the hill on a Farm to Market road, this little girl was running up the other side, right down the center line.  I had no choice but to stop or hit her.  I guess I had one other choice, I could have hit the ditch, risked wrecking my truck and possibly being buried under a mountain of groceries and supplies, but we didn't go that route.  We managed to get stopped at the top of the hill. Flower came to a dead stop right in front of me.

Full-Timer and I just looked at each other.  Glad we stopped, but what do we do now?  I opened my door, and she opened her door, and before we knew what was going on, Flower had jumped in her side of the truck on the floor board.  She then put her front feet on the seat next to my girl, and hid her head under her arm.  Again, we just looked at each other for a moment.  We both shut our doors and started moving again. In that moment, Flower had clearly communicated with both of us.

"Just hit me or take me home, but I can't do this anymore."

Now, being the brave little soul that she is, my Full-Timer just looked over and said, "I am not going to be the one to tell Dad."

Crap!

We finished the short journey home.  Once there, I pulled a dog kennel out of the garage, moved it to the back porch and deposited my new found friend.  After grabbing an arm full of supplies, I went inside.  I found the Man in Charge in the living room.  The conversation went like this...

(me) "You are not going to believe what just happened!"

(him) "What?"

(me) "A dog just ran right out in front of me!"

(him-jumping out of his chair) "Did you hit it?"

(me) "No.  She's outside."

(him) "What!"

There may have been some expletives that followed, but I can't remember.  He went outside and took one look at her, and then there were definitely expletives.  Maybe even some yelling, pulling of hair, and then the "Why? Why?" of it all.  I mean, really?  It all happened so fast.

(him) "Woman! You have brought home a pit bull!"

(me) "Nu-huh."

(him) "Yes-huh."

(him) "I don't know what your plan is, but keep her away from our dogs."

(him) "What is your plan?"

(me) "I guess I will see if I can find her owner?"

Long story short. I posted signs. Signs that read:

Black & White Female dog Found
Location
Date
Please call.

Even at this early time, I felt the need to protect her.  I didn't want someone with shady intentions calling and claiming a dog based on breed.  Not that I really knew much about her, but she seemed so sweet.  The only call was from a poor man that had lost his Border Collie and was desperate to find her.  I could offer him no consolation, and he could offer me no solution.  She stayed in that kennel for three days.  Happy and content to eat large quantities of food several times a day.  She come out only on a leash to do her business.  The rest of the time she slept.  She slept almost non-stop.  She was literally worn out from what ever she had been through.

I have never been a fan of Bully Breeds.  (I prefer to call them that now.)   I, like most people, had only been associated with them through the bad press that they are given on the news.  This is usually because these dogs have done bad things.  My thoughts about them were very negative, and I never understood why anyone would want one.  Then I was faced with this very sweet, happy-go-lucky version of the breed.  Once it became clear that no one was going to claim her, I had to come up with another option for her future.  I started making phone calls, and found that I could put her up for adoption through a local shelter, but keep her as a Foster Parent until she was placed.  Again, wanting to protect her, this seemed like a good idea.  I didn't want her to go to someone with less than credible intentions and I wasn't convinced that the screening processes at shelters would be adequate enough to weed these people out.  I am not bagging on shelters.  They have their hands full as it is.  To find a home, any home, is counted as a success in their book.  Also, a little known fact about some shelters, the no-kill shelters aren't always better.  If they have a breed that is hard to place, they move it to a kill shelter or just refuse to take it in the first place.

We made our decision on shelters, and Flower and I headed down there to have photos taken of her for their website.  She was happy to be in the truck, one of her favorite things to do.  The Man in Charge was happy that there may be light at the end of this tunnel.  I was happy that I could do this and feel good about it.  All of that ended when we got there.  The place was a mad house.  Animals were everywhere in the lobby.  Someone had abandoned a cat in a carrier under the bench we were sitting on.  No one even knew it was there until Flower discovered it.  She didn't do anything aggressive, but I could tell that she was focused on something under there.  Once I took a look and made the discovery, I started taking a good look around the place.  The red flags were popping up everywhere.  Then, when I thought it couldn't get any worse, a large city animal truck backed up to the front door.  They started unloading dog after dog.  We got up and left.

Back in the truck and headed home, she was happy to be going again.  I was happy to be out of there.  That just left the Man in Charge.  I gave him a call at work, and told him what had happened.  He didn't really ask any questions or raise any arguments about my decision.  Come to think of it, I don't really think he said much of anything.

This led to days of keeping Flower in my mud room, separated from the other dogs.  I took her for walks on a leash, and read as much as I could on the Internet about the breed.  Surprisingly, she was great on a leash, leading me to think that maybe someone living in an apartment situation may have been her previous owner. She didn't cause any trouble.  No chewing on things that weren't hers.  No accidents in the house.  Nothing. We progressed to letting her off the leash and allowing her to run around the yard and play for short periods of time.  Always supervised, of course.  She never tried to run off.  She always came when I called her. The only problem at this point was the fact that she lacked basic behavior skills.  Like...sit, down, stay.

Who doesn't teach their dog to sit? This is dog 101, right?

Every night, after everyone would go to bed, I would sit in the dining room and let her hang out with me.  I found website after website on Pit Bulls, mostly positive information.  One of the most fascinating sites that I found was a site called Bad Rap.  You can check it out at http://www.badrap.org/ .  These guys were instrumental in rescuing the dogs from the Michael Vick dog fighting ring.  I read a lot of the story about the rescue on their blog, but have checked recently and can't find the links.  There is a book out on the story.  It is called The Lost Dogs.  Google it if you have a little time.  It is amazing, sad, uplifting, inspirational, etc.

The more time I spent with her, the more obvious it became that she was eager to learn.  She loved the one-on-one attention, and had a very happy disposition.  She was very food motivated, maybe a result of living on the streets.  She did have a few weird habits though.  One habit, that took months to break, was the fact that she would try to stick her head in places that it didn't fit.  If there was any chance there may be something to eat in there, she stuck her head in it.  Sounds funny enough, but she actually had rubbed a place above her left eye from cramming that big head in places.  The spot didn't have any hair, and at times she would make it bleed from just forcing it where it didn't belong.  I don't know if she thought she would never get fed again or what?  Like I said, it took months before we could get her to stop and let the area heal completely.

She had been with us for a few weeks when one very muddy, rainy day, we were out playing.  She took off running and in a matter of 2 seconds had disappeared around the corner of the house.  I was right behind her, but when I got to the back yard - no dog in site.  I ran to the other side of the house, and nothing.  It was like she just disappeared.  I looked in the direction of the barn, and thought, no way.  The horses were in their stalls, so the barn was completely open.  The back door of the horse barn leads to the chicken barn.  As the thoughts were running through my mind, she shot out like a rocket from the back of the horse barn.  She then proceeded to take off across the pasture.  I was yelling at her, but she was gone.  She didn't have a name at this time, so I think I was just calling her dog.  I ran after her, and she didn't stop until we got to the very front of our pasture.  We had both run through a lot of standing water, and a lot of mud.  I was mad.  She finally realized that this was not a fun game anymore, and she stopped.  I grabbed her by her collar and escorted her back to the house.  We both rinsed off in the hose, and then I put her back in the mud room.

What was that?

Later that night, I had finally calmed down.  Everyone else was in bed and we were in the dining room.  I was reading anything and everything on training pit bulls, when I ran across a site that started describing this  random behavior that they sometimes exhibit.  The guy was recommending that you only train in a fenced-in area.  I was in agreement so far.  He went on to explain his theory because at times, no matter how hard they are trying, they will have these uncontrollable outbursts.  He humorously referred to them as Zoomies.  His description went something like..."this is a cross between a motor-cross race, a monster truck rally, and the Kentucky Derby."  She was sitting right next to me as I was reading, and I looked down at her at said, "Oh.  So, that's what that was?"  She just wagged her tail and looked at me.

We almost named this dog Zoomie.  When it happens, she can't stop it.  You can't stop it.  It just has to run its course.  She has to run her self out.  She has Zoomied outside and inside.  When it hits, we just get out of the way and wait. Or, now that we are used to it, we encourage her to work it through by yelling "Zoomie" as she goes by.

She really likes it when you do that.

Boy, is it exciting.

One day she Zoomied in Full-Timer's bedroom.  She was back and forth.  On and off the bed.  Spinning  in a circle so fast that her shoulder was touching the ground.  She looked like she was break-dancing. When she's done, that's it.

Back to the story...as the days kept passing, I was becoming more and more attached.  Surprising, I know.

One day the Man in Charge came home and asked...

(him) "What do you want to do about the dog?"

I immediately noticed that the question was different.  Not the normal, "What are you going to do with the dog?"

(me) "I want to keep her."

(him) "Why?"

(me) "Because I love her."

It was pretty much all over at that point.  He acted mad, but he allowed it.  We started introducing her to our dogs one at a time.  It was a slow process, but it went well.  She has never shown aggression towards any of them.  My Border Collies on the other hand were nasty to her.  They are sort of snobs, and not really interested in growing the pack.  They are also sisters out of the same litter, and they didn't see the point in another dog hanging around. We also had a 16 year old Miniature Schnauzer at the time.  He was blind, deaf, and more than a little senile.  He didn't know or care that she was a pit bull.  All he knew was that she was really warm and he could squeeze his way onto the dog bed with her for a nap.  If he occasionally bumped into her due to his blindness, he would just duck and walk under her belly.  She never cared.

Once we were sure that she fit in and could stay for real, we needed a name for her. It took much longer to decide on one.  Most of our dogs are named after Disney characters, and we wanted to find one for her, but what? We researched and agonized and debated.  Nothing really seemed to fit.  She did have one issue that stood out during this time, and that was a sensitive digestive system.  If the food she ate didn't agree with her, she would have horrible gas.  I mean, clear the room horrible.  Most of the time, she was the first one to leave.  We were doing our best to find a food that worked for her, but it was a process.  One evening, all together in the living room, she disappeared.  Seconds later, we knew why and we were all running out of the room ourselves. The Man in Charge knew right then what her name should be...

"You can call me Flower."

Can you name the movie?

Leave a comment if you have a memory of a proverbial farm story.  I would love to hear them.  The Man in Charge won't admit it, but he has come to love her too.  Regularly she walks to the side of his chair, she knows she is guaranteed a nice scratching when she stops by his side, and he will yell out, "Who let the Pit Bull in the house?"  She just wags her tail, happy she has a home.

More stories to come this week...there are tales of Bees and Coyotes to share.  I think that should be enough to keep you guessing.

Disclaimer:  I am not recommending Pit Bulls to everyone out there.  It takes a special kind of person to own certain breeds.  This is one of them.  Not all Pit Bulls are created equal either.  The instinct to be dog aggressive is bred into them.  Or, at least some of them.  People aggressive dogs are not acceptable at all.  I do recommend that you read up on any particular breed prior to deciding to own one.  There are things that may not work with your personality or life-style.  Better to know about it ahead of time, instead of later when you are in search of the proverbial farm to dump them off at.