California, Here I Come & That Old Bag

I wish I had a little red bouncing ball feature so that we could all sing together! Do you even remember the songs on TV and in movies, where the audience was asked to follow the bouncing ball and sing along? I guess you have to be really, really old... like me! (Oh, but I'm not that old bag! You have to read on to find out about that!)

California, Here I Come

Colorado’s where I started from

where bowers of flowers

bloom in the spring

each morning at dawning

birdies sing at everything

my oldest son says, "Don't be late!"

that's why I can hardly wait

open up that golden gate

California, Here I Come!!

Hubby and I are taking a few days off from reconstruction and will visit number 1 son in San Francisco while number 2 son has been coerced into holding down the fort. Last night we took a trip drive into town (Oh... I am so loving being 5 miles from 'town'!!) to get a new suitcase for me. I love new suitcases. I love exploring their zippered compartments... most of which I never use!

I had to 'let go' of my previous carry-on. It seems that my carry-on no longer met carry-on standards.  We went on a fabulous trip to Europe last year. On our way there I travelled on two airplanes... and carried on my carry-on with no problems. But, on our return, at 4:30 in the morning,  the ticket attendant said I would have to check my bag and that would be an extra $50 fee. I am a morning person... but I think I was grumpy because I didn't want to go home, and I probably wasn't really looking forward to a 6-hour layover at the Munich airport. Also trying to communicate in broken English sets me on edge... why is it that I feel like I have to talk louder and slower for the person to understand me?! I tried to explain that the bag hadn't been a problem on other flights. She marched me over to the 'bag tester' where I tried to prove my bag was a carryon by trying to wedge it into and between the metal bars. 

She had an attitude and kinda crossed her arms and hmphed at me, as if to say, "I told you so." I got my back up. Remember... it was only 4:30 in the morning, oh, and did I mention that we had already traveled an hour by bus? I moved out of the line. Plunked the offensive oversize carry-on... which really at one time was a carry-on (do they, like some people, increase in size with age?) on the floor of the airport. I guess I had a presentiment about this as I had a smaller zippered bag in the carry-on. I pulled that out. Stuffed my belongings into it and got back in line. When I got to the attendant again I handed her the offensive oversize outdated old...very old and worn, carry-on. I told her she could throw it out. I proceeded to get my boarding pass, leaving my old friend, who had seen lots of travel with me, at the Marseilles airport. Her time had come. She was tired and worn and probably wouldn't have been able to travel anymore anyway. Her zippers were failing and couldn't handle the strain of rough treatment. Picture the baggage truck heading out to the airplane leaving a trail of my clothing behind. But, I do wish I could have given her a private burial with a bit more dignity than being dumped at the airport! Farewell, old bag. We had some great times together.

Panel Discussion

If you thought this post would be a discussion of some heady topic by a group of bloggers.....

-or-

If you thought that I was going to talk about being a member of a panel discussing some exciting topic....

Then, I hate to disappoint you. This is a blog post about exactly what the title indicates it will be. I will be discussing panels... fence panels!

Don't you love it when you are led to 'see the light' and change a personal tenet? This is the case when it comes to portable fence panels for horses. When we first moved to Colorado I saw more panels in one short drive to town than I've seen in a lifetime in the east. I thought the panels looked tacky and felt they would not be substantial enough for horse fencing.

For those of you who are not familiar with the term... this is a picture of a portable fence panel:

I have always liked the look of wood fencing and my personal belief was that arenas and paddocks should be constructed from wood. There is nothing nicer than driving by fields of horses safely enclosed in split rail or board fencing. White paint is optional!

Source

Fast forward a few years. I have acquired horses. I'm not sure how big a paddock I want. I'm not sure exactly where I want that paddock. The horses are coming tomorrow. We need fencing and we need it now! So, we acquired our first portable fencing panels. Soon we discovered that we really needed to divide the paddock so that each horse had his own space. We acquired some more paneling. Oh, how wonderful; The lady we are buying stall panels from also has some fence panels. Let's buy them. We'll have enough for a round pen!

So in a few short years I have acquired a fair number of fence panels. I love them! I can rearrange horse fencing like some people rearrange furniture! And I can do it all by myself! As I carry (push, drag, pull) panels I hear Helen Reddy singing in my mind:

If I have to, I can do anything 

I am strong.

I am invincible. 

I am woman!

Before we moved the horses to our new home we brought up some panels to limit the paddock area. Pippin can't have too much green grass at one grazing and the paddock, which hasn't seen a horse in over 5 years was full of lush grass. We actually discovered that we had given the boys too much room, so we rearranged the panels and made the paddock even smaller. Today we expanded it back to the original size. They now have about 2600 sq ft of the approximate 10,000 sq ft area to hang out in. 

The line between dirt and grass shows where the 

paneling used to end!

Yesterday I rearranged the panels at our 'old' house to make the paddocks smaller. The new buyer will have two paddocks that are 816 sq ft each instead of the 1,620 sq ft each of the boys had. We'll use those panels to separate the shed into personal spaces for each horse. Eventually we will be cutting doors from the stalls into the shed, and then the panels can be used to block off an area in the shed for storage. 

I am a convert. I have totally changed my line of thinking when it comes to portable fencing. I love it!

***Disclaimer***

All information contained on this blog post is the opinion of the writer. The information is not and should not be considered the be all and end all of fencing information. The writer is not an expert and does not consider herself to be an expert. The writer acknowledges that every horse owner has his or her own opinion about what type of fencing is best and that one horse owner's firmly held belief will differ from another's. Furthermore, horses are different. While some horses will respect a fence others will test it - push it, paw it, destroy it. The writer also acknowledges that accidents do happen and that fencing accidents can be downright dangerous. While one equestrian may have a horror story about a horse and portable paneling, another equestrian will have an equally horrifying story about a horse and wire fencing and a third equestrian will have a similar horrific tale to tell of a horse with wood fencing. If we want our horses to avoid injuries sustained from fencing we should adhere to the Cole Porter song; "Don't Fence Me In".  However, then we would run into problems with horses sustaining injuries from items in yards, automobiles on highways, vicious dogs, mad cows and homeowners wielding rakes or shovels. Additionally we would find it rather inconvenient to chase our horses down when it was time to ride them. The writer has purposefully not named the manufacturer of the portable panels that she is using nor is she promoting the use of one manufacturer’s panels over another. She recognizes that not all panels are created the same and that the quality of the product not only has to do with the care taken in the manufacture of the product but in such factors as the gauge of steel used, the type of welds and even the painted coating on the product. Horse owners using any fencing product are to understand that they are responsible for using the product as it was intended to be used and that shit happens, despite our best intentions. 

Any Port in a Storm

We have been packing and unpacking. Each time we go down to the 'old' house we pack up a few boxes, and then unpack when we return to our new home. While unpacking a box from the liquor cabinet,  my hubby commented that a bottle of Port that had been opened 3 years ago should just be tossed. I am not a Port drinker, so I wasn't aware that it had a shelf life once opened. But, being somewhat quite miserly, and hating to throw away something that might be of use, and perhaps not trusting his judgment (since he doesn't drink Port either) and loving the Internet as I do.... I decided to find out how long Port would remain palatable. It turns out that a few months is tops. Hubby wins this round! But one Web site recommended buying some Portobello mushrooms, sautéing them in butter and then pouring on the out-of-date Port and reducing it.
Voila! Tonight we will be serving (read the following with a slight foreign accent, or if you want to sound a bit like Julia Child, perhaps stuff some marbles in your mouth before you talk) a succulent, tender grilled boneless chicken breast, topped with sauteed Vidalia onions and Cremini mushrooms in a Port reduction sauce as our only Chef's Choice entree.

Dinner is served!

Yum!

Rating: *****

Retraction

Glorious Evening

I'm thinking that maybe I'll take back Reason #24 for loving my Haflingers. Tonight they didn't come in on their own accord... I had to go retrieve them from the pasture. I find it very interesting that the last two nights, when I've felt truly awful, they have made my life easy by coming in all on their own.  I'm feeling great today, only a smidgen of discomfort... and those boys took advantage of me!

Awww, I guess I can't retract Reason #24. How much sweeter could they have been? 

Why I Love My Haflingers - Reason #24

Today has not been a good day.  throb--throb--throb--  The tooth is killing me and Aleve just takes the edge off, and only for a few hours. You are only supposed to throb--throb--throb--  take 3 of them a day.  I found some Tylenol with Codeine and self prescribed it last night - so I did sleep, but it takes me until noon throb--throb--throb-- to shake that stuff off.  Then, things got worse all afternoon. THROB--THROB--THROB

The Realtor came to take pictures of our former house. We had to get down there in the morning (hubby drove and I slept!) to do some more clean up, sorting and organizing. We worked there for 5 - 6 hours. Got home, throb--throb--throb-- feeling really, really, really cruddy. Made it out to the paddock to let the boys out to pasture and managed to clean that up. I got their dinner ready. 

So, why do I LOVE my Haffies? As the sun begins to set in the west (how poetic is that?!) they  seem to know that it is time to come in from the lush, wonderful grass. I have been giving them a treat when I catch them and bring them in from the field. For almost a week now, the boys have begun to move closer to the paddock as their grazing time is up. 

Here they come... up the hill.

Hey, wait a minute, Doc... you are going the wrong way!

Yesterday, and today, I didn't have to go after 

them with halter and lead rope...

When I went outside, Pippin (the food hog) walked into the paddock.

He comes to get his treat, with Doc bringing up the rear.

Pippin makes his way into the shed and begins 

munching his measly dinner.

Doc comes for his treat,

Then he, too, heads for the shed.

So the boys have settled into their routine and have become used to their 'sub-standard' housing. They are sharing the shed. They get a tiny bit of hay in the evening in a feed bin just beyond Doc. They have their small sample of 'feed' in a tub on the ground. Yeah, occasionally they have issues - Pippin usually is the one that gets picked on - but for the most part, life is good, and I LOVE my Haffies! (Especially when they make my life so easy!)

A Severely Strained Ligament

I never cease to amaze my hubby. He just doesn't understand how I can ski, and rarely fall down. How I can ride horses, and manage to keep the horse between the ground and me (most times) and how I have pursued a number of athletic pursuits, with passable skill. Yet, I can't walk down a sidewalk without tripping over the line separating the slabs of concrete! So, news of my latest severely strained ligaments only caused him to shake his head and laugh. You know that laugh... the one that implies that only my wife could do this?! Yeah... that one! And, not one shred of sympathy for the injured!
Last night I was in agony.  I popped Aleve and it didn't alleviate the pain. I considered a number of options to do away with the pain... but putting a gun to the side of my head would be messy, and, with the move, we seem to have gotten the gun and its firing mechanism separated from one another... and haven't seen the ammunition. So, that option was out. The only thing to do was to wait it out and find a doctor I could visit today.... not August 25, which was the first appointment I could get with my own doc when I called about the problem yesterday.
When you are in severe pain, do you build it up, imagining worst-case scenarios? I do. If my stomach really hurts, I begin to think it must be appendicitis. I even go so far as to figure out who to call to take care of my obligations while I would be side-lined. If I have blinding headaches I begin to think it's a brain bleed or maybe even a brain tumor. Of course, another facet of all of this is that I procrastinate about seeing a doctor and although sometimes that is helpful because the problem resolves itself, other times it allows whatever is going on to worsen. That would be the case with this particular 'injury', although waiting it out wasn't totally my choice. I have been aware of the problem for about 8 months... probably even more, but chose to ignore it as much as I could. When I saw the doctor 8 months ago, he took a 'wait and see' stance and I was to call him if things worsened. Things got a bit worse, about 2 months ago. But, when I called to make an appointment I learned that my doctor was not seeing patients as he had been diagnosed with and treated for throat cancer. I did get to see one of his assistants. She noticed the problem and indicated that the doctor was beginning to see one or two patients a day and she'd put me on a priority list and I'd get a call when they could schedule me. I didn't get a call. So, when things came to a head yesterday, that's when I learned that my priority evidently wasn't as high priority as I thought, despite the pain, and they'd see me in a month. OK, to be fair, when I called them yesterday the pain was only in the 'background' and was quite manageable. But during the night things went downhill... or, since the pain escalated, did things go uphill?!!
So, I arranged for an early afternoon 'emergency' trip to my dad's doctor... his dentist. It turns out that yes, the crown is about to fall off of tooth #14. I knew that, but that wasn't the problem. (Although I had figured that since it had been flapping for more than 8 months the nub of tooth underneath had to be rotten and I'd need something more to maintain that 'tooth' - not the case.) It was the tooth next to it that was causing all of the pain... it has a post and a crown already. It has had a root canal already. It shouldn't be hurting. My old doc's assistant said that it was loose. Being the type of person I am, I had built this up into $$$$$$. I just knew that I'd need an implant, or perhaps a bridge with at least one new crown to help anchor it. I didn't want to know those ugly details, which is why I procrastinated. But, my dad's dentist - from here on out to be referred to as my dentist - maybe even considered to be some sort of deity, took one look at the x-rays and pronounced that I had severely strained the ligaments of the tooth! I was aware that teeth were held in by ligaments, but never realized that when your tooth hurts because a piece of popcorn kernel has wedged in there, that is because the ligament has been strained. When you feel like a tooth is wiggling a bit... it is... because the ligament is a bit loose. Because of my lousy bite, that poor tooth had been getting a battering every time I chewed something - since we tend to gnash food laterally. The ligaments were not happy. They are strained and inflamed. So, my new dentist 'floated' my tooth (for non-horse folks, floating is what equine dentists do to horses to make their teeth even. They actually file high points down periodically) and cemented the crown on the other tooth. The pain is beginning to subside... another glass of wine and maybe I won't notice it at all!

Pot 'o Gold

We had a powerful storm blow through the other evening. The boys were out in their pasture. Lightning was flashing all around them and thunder was crashing. The neighbor's horse ran from pasture back to his barn! My boys stayed out and grazed. They weren't about to let a mere storm interfere with their sacred time on pasture! Finally, it was time to gather them in for the evening. Lo and behold, the wonderful ponies drowned rats had made it up to the gate and were ready to come in and get dinner! 

I think I need to make friends with the owner of the barn at the top of the hill. Evidently, there is a pot of gold on her property!

A Few Hardy Souls

Our yard has a few hardy souls! 

It is a pleasant surprise to see what has survived years of neglect,

and the ravages of weather and wabbit!

This reminds me of a native (Rocky Mountain States) rose.

The blossom is very simple, but oh, so beautiful.

A little research on the Internet (I am soooo in love with the Web and all of the information I can have at my fingertips!) yielded very little information. I found 'the' rose on one site. It is growing at Joan Franson’s (evidently she is a renowned rose judge) Laboratory of Roses and the author of an article about a tour of Fran's garden comments, "One vigorous rose that arches into the street, its long canes dotted with lavender pink sprays of blossoms, has remained a mystery species rose, although visiting rose lovers bend over an impressive cane, carefully scrutinizing the blooms. "No one knows what that rose is,"

So, we have a mystery rose in our garden. How fitting, since so much about our house is a mystery!

White Roses

We have about 4 plants that survived.

Sadly, they have no odor, and they turn brown quite quickly.

Russian Sage

Perovskia atriplicifolia

This is a weed in our yard. There were a few clumps, originally. 

Now it has spread in all directions. Russian Sage thrives in dry climates.

Shhh! Don't tell the plants that they aren't supposed to like clay soil!

This is a tiny red rose. It reminds me of the

'Valentine' roses that are sold in grocery stores.

Potentilla

This shrub is well suited to dry climates and therefore, it is no surprise that it survived years of drought at our house. The plant is also called Cinquefoil, Shrubby Cinquefoil or Buttercup Shrub.

The funny thing is that in the past my husband has pointed out this variety at stores and in other plantings. He has said he'd like to have it in his yard. He was pleasantly surprised when some of the dead-looking shrubs we noticed in the winter turned out to be thriving Potentilla.

Now, hopefully, everything will thrive.... unless we kill them with kindness!

Alison Hart Book Review and Book Giveaway

A while back.... I hate to admit how long that 'while' was.... I entered a giveaway at  Everyday Rurality . The prize was two of Alison Hart books. I didn't win.  (Read on, or skip to the end, for information about another Alison Hart giveaway)


But... I got a note to contact Alison Hart. Even though my name wasn't pulled out of the hat as the lucky winner, Alison liked my plans for the books, if I should win, and she wanted to send me two books. 
I was thrilled. I love reading (but rarely get enough time to do so) and as a former Middle School Reading teacher, I truly enjoy reading books for early adolescent readers. 


One of the books I selected was Bell's Star. 

Freedom is the theme of this delightful historical fiction book for young readers.  Bell's Star, a Morgan colt, longs to find the place called  "wherever  I want".  Katie, a young girl, wants to be free to ride Star through the fields and down to the river, instead of hauling buckets of Maple sap.  (I loved this part, since my horses once were used to collect Maple sap!) On one such 'escape' Katie helps a runaway slave girl, Eliza, who is making her way to Canada to join her family. Star narrates the exciting story of Eliza's escape and, by the end of the book, has a  different view of "wherever I want" to be. 

Alison Hart includes an appendix in her book with a brief history of the Morgan horse and historical information about life in Vermont in the 1850's. Bell's Star is a great first chapter book yet, because of the action and intrigue,  would appeal to older readers as well. 


The next book in this series, Risky Chance, will be coming out in September. I can't wait!

OK, dear readers, judging a book by the cover, what might this book be about?

We'll just have to wait and see!

So, now about the giveaway.... 


If you'd like a chance to win a book by Alison, visit Linda Benson's Equestrian Ink before Friday and leave a comment. It's as easy as that!

Hardy Souls

Our yard has a few hardy souls! 

It is a pleasant surprise to see what has survived years of neglect,

and the ravages of weather and wabbit!

This reminds me of a native (Rocky Mountain States) rose.

The blossom is very simple, but oh, so beautiful.

A little research on the Internet (I am soooo in love with the Web and all of the information I can have at my fingertips!) yielded very little information. I found 'the' rose on one site. It is growing at Joan Franson’s (evidently she is a renowned rose judge) Laboratory of Roses and the author of an article about a tour of Fran's garden comments, "One vigorous rose that arches into the street, its long canes dotted with lavender pink sprays of blossoms, has remained a mystery species rose, although visiting rose lovers bend over an impressive cane, carefully scrutinizing the blooms. "No one knows what that rose is,"

So, we have a mystery rose in our garden. How fitting, since so much about our house is a mystery!

White Roses

We have about 4 plants that survived.

Sadly, they have no odor, and they turn brown quite quickly.

Russian Sage

Perovskia atriplicifolia

This is a weed in our yard. There were a few clumps, originally. 

Now it has spread in all directions. Russian Sage thrives in dry climates.

Shhh! Don't tell the plants that they aren't supposed to like clay soil!

This is a tiny red rose. It reminds me of the

'Valentine' roses that are sold in grocery stores.

Potentilla

This shrub is well suited to dry climates and therefore, it is no surprise that it survived years of drought at our house. The plant is also called Cinquefoil, Shrubby Cinquefoil or Buttercup Shrub.

The funny thing is that in the past my husband has pointed out this variety at stores and in other plantings. He has said he'd like to have it in his yard. He was pleasantly surprised when some of the dead-looking shrubs we noticed in the winter turned out to be thriving Potentilla.

Now, hopefully, everything will thrive.... unless we kill them with kindness!

Doc's Diatribe: Changes in Latitude...Changes in Attitude

So, things have changed... and I can't decide whether it is good or bad!


First my Mrs. Owner loads us into that awful white box and brings us to this new place. At first we thought we had died and gone to Heaven. The grass was EVERYWHERE! I didn't even have to walk from place to place to find it. All I had to do was sink my head into the deep lusciousness of it.


Then, the rains came. It didn't rain for 40 days and 40 nights, but it might as well have. Our paddock, which no longer had grass in it because, uh, Pippin ate it all, turned into a quagmire of mud. I thought my feet were going to turn into puddles of gelatinous stuff themselves.


Our Mrs. Owner has begun to turn us out two times a day. Yes, I said 2, as in T - W - O!! That is ever so much better than before. In the morning she lets us go into the BIG paddock. Do you see the white square in the picture? The picture is kinda fuzzy on account of it was taken from space, says my Mrs. Owner. But, the white square near the top is the barn. Just to the right of the barn, coming out at the middle of the white square, you can see a tiny white line going to the right - that's a fence.  It doesn't look that tiny when I'm standing next to it! That is the front fence of the paddock mud pit. My Mrs. Owner put a fence in the back to make a small paddock for us. In the morning she opens a gate at the back of the mud pit and me and the pipsqueak can graze in the area you see behind and to the left side of the barn... all the way to the green blobs, which are really, actually trees. We can't go in front of the barn on account of there is a gate there that blocks us from running into the driveway in front of the barn. 

This picture shows the fence at the back of the mud pit and the gate that my Mrs. Owner uses to let us out into the big paddock. The white fence in the background is the back fence you can actually see from the picture taken from space. 

Next my Mrs. Owner tricks us into coming back into the mud pit. She pretends like she is going to feed us lots of good stuff. She starts with a yummy tasting apple treat and in her sweet voice, tells us to come with her.  That pipsqueak, Pippin, falls for it just about every time and follows her like a puppy dog. Sometimes there is the tiniest bit of hay in there. 


Just about every day my Mrs. Owner ties us up and actually makes us do something. I guess if I had to chose between standing around in a dry lot or doing something, I'd chose doing something. This morning I got to wear the black spaghetti stuff and Pippin got to pretend he was a cow pony. 

I think I got the easy job since my silly Mrs. Owner seemed to have forgotten to hook up the cart! We walked around, aimlessly, then came back and she tied me up again. The Pipsqueak actually had to put up with my Mrs. Owner on his back! Ha, ha on him! He had to go around and around and around in the round paddock, then he had to walk up and down the hill in the pasture. 


Oh, and speaking of pasture. That's the absitively, posolutely best part of the day. In the evening, just as things are cooling down a bit, our Mrs. Owner opens the gate to the pasture Heaven. There's a gate in the white fence to the right of the barn. In the picture from space you can see our pasture Heaven. It is all of the part of the picture on the right... and MORE! We get to graze to our hearts content for about two hours. So, two times a day.... two hours - hay, that's four! I know my math!

Cherry Tree

So.... if it had more than one....

 Do you see it?

wouldn't we call it a "Cherries Tree"?

More Rain

The paddock began to dry out yesterday. I could traverse the center without needing a tow truck to pull me out.

Then.....

After dinner....

The wind began to kick up....

The lightning began to z-z-z-zap and flash ....

Storms were all around us. I stood outside taking numerous shots ... do you think I could catch one of the lightning? Certainly not... so I opted for interesting stormy clouds.

Well, the rain didn't come. The storms continued to do their stormy thing north and east of us. I went to bed.

Later.....

No clue how 'later' .....

A storm hit!

The lightning flashed and the thunder boomed...

(The following photos are not my photos. Do you imagine that I would actually think to find my camera after having been asleep and having crawled out of bed?! Uh... I don't think I even found my glasses, which is why all of this may have seemed even more incredibly awesome than usual!)

source

The rain (and hail) began pelting the house.

source

The wind was blowing....

The trees were bowing over.

The rain actually looked like this in the lights from the house:

I could almost imagine that I was out on the seas in a hurricane....

source

Except the house wasn't rocking... at least I don't think it was!

The storm passed. The rain slowed. The thunder moved off into the distance. And all I could think about was the quagmire the paddock would be in the morning!

I was not to be disappointed!

Mud, Mud, I Love Mud

I couldn't help but think of this song when I went to the paddock:

Mud, mud, I love mud!

I'm absolutely, positively wild about mud.

I can't go around it. I've got to go through it.

Beautiful, fabulous, super duper mud.

Song & Lyrics by Rick Charette

Yes, we had rain!

Hooray!

 We have a 30-40% chance of rain

each day this week...

lovely (I think?!)

Pippin - hoping for a treat!

Doc is practicing religion... 

he kneels on one knee, sticks his head under the fence, 

and prays that the grass is close enough to reach. 

That is why he is wearing a mud knee sock!

I find it so amazing that soil just 30 miles apart can be so totally different. At our original house the soil, uh, if you could call it that, was very sandy. Here we have gumbo clay. Even in the worst rain storms or snow run off, the paddock the boys used to have would be firm and drained, if not dry. Here.... well, it appears we have a different story!

Since all of this was grass a few days ago, I'm wondering if it will drain better once it has a chance to be compacted by the boys' little feet.  It is on a slight slope, so water does have a chance to leave the area.

Do any of you have similar footing? Do you have suggestions? Should we invest in some decomposed granite?!

Welcome Followers

I have two new followers that I'd like to thank for taking the time to follow my blog.

The first is Shirley. Shirley writes three...yes, I said 3, blogs! Oh my, I hardly have the time for one! Oh, and she not only writes three blogs, she reads and comments on other blogs! Her first blog is Ride a Good Horse. I follow this blog and Shirley has some of the most beautiful pictures of horses and scenes around her home. Her other blogs include: Seeking Jesus and Diamond Lazy H Horses/.


Love Andromeda from Ayrshire, Scotland has also begun to follow Dreaming's adventures. She has just begun blogging and her profile picture shows lovely poppies - one of my favorite flowers! Click to read her blog, "Losing it all on my own..."

Mad as a....

We lost our second barn kitty last week. It makes me sad because she had started to warm up to me.  She allowed me to pet her and she talked to me when I came into the barn.  She liked to sit on the top of the hay bales to watch me do my barn chores from her high perch.  I lock the cat in the barn at night so I suspect that another hungry Coyote made a daytime hunting run and nabbed her while she was playing hunting.

Prior to our losing the cat a neighbor mentioned that she volunteered for a cat house... I mean a cat sanctuary. I told her that I wanted a barn cat to keep Thing 1 company, so if she ever came across a cat that needed that type of job to let me know. She stopped by last Tuesday, a few days after we lost our kitty. She told me she knew of the perfect cat. Apparently the cat sanctuary is filled to overflowing with cats and kittens. An older guy stopped by a booth for the cat sanctuary on Saturday to ask about what they do. He told them he had a cat he wanted to bring to them, as he had too many cats and this one was hanging around his house, eating all of the food and wouldn't let the others eat. The sanctuary volunteer explained that they could not take any cats at this time and he should check later. On Tuesday he showed up at the facility with the cat in a carrier. OK, so Tuesday is 'later'... I guess! They refused the cat, but when my neighbor found out that I would take it, she said she'd pick the cat up and put it in my tack room (we were in the middle of moving and wouldn't be around). So, Wednesday night when we got home, I got to meet Boots. Well, I guess you could actually say I sorta got to see Boots. Poor Boots was petrified. She was hunkered down behind the feed bins and wouldn't budge. She made ugly faces and noises at me. I left her some canned food. She had already eaten some of the dry food that I have in a 'self feeder'.  The next morning I got to see her from afar, again. But finally, by Friday, she had stopped hissing and growling at me, and Friday night she actually sniffed my finger. Progress! So, yesterday I visited again and low and behold, Miss.... well, uh, Mrs. Boots came up to me as I was holding the cat food, took a few licks, and then let me pet her. Imagine my horror when I ran my hand over her side and felt enlarged mammary glands. This poor cat had kittens someplace, and had been taken away from them. I called my neighbor to see if she knew about it and she indicated that based on what the man had said she suspected that might be the case. I was livid. Yes. I understand that there are too many cats. But, I don't understand knowingly taking a cat from her kittens and leaving them to fend for themselves or starve. That is not humane and that makes me mad as a..... wet hen cat!!
I crated Mrs. Boots and she is now 'living' in one of our stalls at the new barn. She hates me again! She, too,  is mad as a ....
Ah, poor Mrs. Boots. Just wait until I take you to get fixed! Then you will REALLY hate me!

Meet Mrs. Boots... not a very flattering picture, but it was hard to capture her best side. She either has her head buried in the cat food tin or is brushing against my hand for some loving.

Dog Tired

Tucker loves the new house. He has room to roam - no leashes needed! We have a picket fenced back yard, but then beyond that we attached livestock fencing to the closest edge of the pasture fence and the horse paddock area. We added some fencing between the house and the property lines on each side. Tucker probably has about 1/2 - 1/3 of an acre in which to run - free!

This morning he jumped a bunny and had a great run from one end of his space to another. Couldn't catch that wascally wabbit! Then, two deer went bounding by in the pasture. Tucker took chase along the fence line. Suddenly, he heard bounding hooves behind him... there was a buck running through HIS yard. Tucker had another lovely chase - couldn't catch that guy either, drat!

Ah, but now he is having sweet dreams of chasing critters and being master of the place! Time to recharge the batteries!

Something's Afoot - Comfortable as an Old Shoe

Hay, Doc... are you there?

It's me... Pippin. I can't see you. 

Yeah, I'm here... you idiot...

who did you think would be on the

other side of the partition? 

The great and powerful Wizard of Oz?

ss

Uh, Doc .... I've a feeling that we're 

not in Kansas anymore!

* Sigh *  we never were in Kansas... 

Ok... just sayin'... 

we aren't exactly where we were.

Pssst, Doc... this doesn't look 

like an auction to me.

I don't see any other horses.

Nope... this isn't an auction - 

This is Heaven!

Nom-en-om-en-nom....

Sorry to talk with my mouth full

but.... I just can't help myself!

Mmmm.... know what you mean!

Something's Afoot - The Shoe Drops

Doc,  what's
A - U - C - T - I - O - N ?

I'm not sure... 

Where'd you see that?

It's written on the calendar
on the wall across from my stall.

Hmmm, let me chew on that for a while.
Nom-en-om-en-nom...
Are you sure that's what it says? 

Yup. It says Harley Troyer Auction 
And it begins on Friday.  

They sell horses there, don't they?

Oh, Dear Gus...
You are right.
That's where my Mrs. Owner got us.

My Mrs. Owner has hooked up the 

big white box on wheels.....

I have a not-so-good feeling in the

pit of my cecum...

Nahh.... she wouldn't.
Would she?
You don't suppose????

To be continued.....