Thanks Dad

My dad is a gifted photographer. This is one of his photographs. 

I have to say that I am pretty lucky. My dad just came to help me fix the chicken coop so that the Hawk's can no longer kill my chickens.

I didn't ask for his help, he just showed up.

Not only did he just show up but he brought with him:

Tools for the fence and roof.
A copy of my favorite magazine Mother Earth Magazine
Starbucks ground beans for a french press he gifted me.
Half and Half
Whipped Cream

and most importantly

his time.

While we were working on the coop he received a phone call from his neighbor saying that Roxy (his dog) had escaped and was running around unsupervised.

He called his teenage daughters who were home on spring break.

He asked nicely for one of them to go and get the dog. She hung up on him.

He tried to call the other daughter but she was asleep... at 2pm. Typical teenager. Finally she wakes up and answers the phone. She got the dog in, but only after complaining about how terrible Roxy was, and how she doesn't come when called.

I would like to point out that Roxy is a handful, but with a little respect she will come when called, and sits, lays down, and even heals.

I did not yell once at this dog. I would say cool and calmly. "Roxy come"- she would glide over to me, I would point my finger at my heel and tell her to "Sit" She would do it, look up at me, and I would softly rub her face and tell her that she was a "good dog"

What all of this boils down to is respect.
I respect my father, and I would never talk down to him, hang up on him, or call him any other name but "dad".

I respect Roxy, I would never scream at her, or call her names. I am firm with her and do not treat her like a show animal. I treat her as an equal.

It bothers me that my teenage sisters do not respect my dad or their family dog.
Both have great potential and will give back twice what you have given them.
I hope they read this, and do something nice for my dad. He deserves it.
He is a good dad, especially to them. They are lucky to have him full time.

Stubborn little pony!

I was thinking of Raven today, and drew this. 

Farewell Goldie

Rogue looking after her new flock. Fluffy (white) and Goldie

Taken earlier today 2-3 hours before Goldies demise. Rogue looking after her new flock.

Its a nice day out. I am completely miserable... but it's nice out.

I feel as though I have a very bad concussion. I'm lightheaded, feel dizzy... see black spots... my stomach hurts a little. 

I took a nap. Or tried anyway, I ended up with sweaty nightmares instead. All this equality stuff on Facebook has given me dreams about being a lesbian. Not that there is anything wrong with that, I'm all for it...  but I would rather have 5 more two year olds then be the other. 

I woke up to Rogue making her distress call. 

I run outside... no Goldie. 

Goldie is gone. 

Fluffy is inside wedged between a wall and a nest box, visibly upset. Fluffy is never without Goldie.

Rogue is upset. 

Rogue is upset because she has taken to being their guardian. Everywhere those babies went Rogue went... looking after them. 

I don't think I'm going to the barn tonight. I think I need a break... I feel so awful. This is all very stressful. Nothing like watching babies die one at a time. 

Ain't Nature grand?

Farewell Blue

What a terrible day I just had. Nothing amazing happened. I was in a blah state all day. Four o'clock rolls around and I'm eating a handful of dark chocolate morsels cause it was that sort of mood I was in... and I'm just sorta looking into the chicken coop and see an odd bird in there. Who is that? Who the hell is that in my coop? That's not a chicken. I bet it's that damn Hawk again... must be... he's eating on something. Dammit.

I trudge out in my slippers.... sure enough that asshole of a hawk is sitting there like a zombie eating the face of my baby blue laced wyandotte! Blue is dead... that stupid f*cker of a hawk.

Sorry... excuse my language. I am typing this after one glass of red wine. I'm feeling a little looser than normal.

Anyway, no tears. Nope. not going to happen this time. I'm just angry. I've had enough of this shit. I'm going to get the gun and shoot that mother in the face, see how he likes it. Don't care that it's illegal. I hate this damn bird.

Blast... he's flown off trying to carry my headless baby... drops it a good ten feet off the ground, it thumps....to the ground. Oh whats the point. Just eat her...

I'm furious. I go out and close off half the coop. I grabbed some Shepard's hooks and threw them in there to hold up some netting which I have none of.

The coop looks crazy. I have plastic fence as a roof now so that ASSHOLE of a bird can't kill the rest of my family.

Bastard.

Anyway.... I tried to calm down by going to the barn. I got out little miss pony Raven that I am training momentarily.

Of course the ring is a swamp from the snow and rain. I tried to use the indoor. Raven was not liking it, and just acted like a jerk the whole time. I took two steps back in the training process from frustration. Never work with a horse when your heart isn't in it. My heart is a little broken to be honest. The next bird to go will be Fluffy or Rogue. They are my next favorite.... There I said it... jinxed it... go ahead hawk.. I know your reading this shit. Go and kill all of my friends.

I'm done....
This day sucked.
Farewell Blue, I loved you.

Historical Society

I would like to give a big thank you to the historical society for saying "NO" to the color of our garage roof shingles. They are brown.

Sorry it did not match exactly to the house. Which is also brown.

Thanks for making this take a few weeks longer and pissing the roofers off. I'm sure they will do an excellent job now that you have thrown a wrench in their work.

It could have taken one day of decent hard work.

You are a bunch of stupid trolls that need to mind your business.

Get a life.

You suck.

I feel better now.
That is all for today.

Roxy

It is a busy day here on the homestead. First off it's snowing AND raining. Its also Spring... so I'm not sure what is going on with this weather.

The roofers were supposed to come today to finish the roof. They were actually supposed to be done the roof but some old bag town crier came and shut them down because we didn't get our shingles approved by the historical society. How dumb is that?

I get it, I am all about historical preservation, hell- I even took a course in it, and know quite a bit about it. Yet. As I walk down my street I find one house that has been condemned. One house has moss as a roof. AND another house has a red tin roof. All of which does not seem to be up to par with the historical society. Yet, we are getting a new roof to match our existing roof, and they shut us down. AND now it's raining/snowing, so the black top is getting wet. Wonderful.

Anyway, that was one rant. Here is another.
My dad has dropped off my step sister Roxy for a sleep over. This will be her first time sleeping over. She is quite large and I'm afraid that she will play too rough with the boys. I had to tell her immediately  the rules of this house because she was acting nuts. She looked at me and cursed at me!...to my face. So rude.

Anyway, I put her in her place, and now she knows who the boss is.

She is taking a nap currently. I think later we will go for a long walk and feed her some dinner. Tomorrow my dad is coming to get her. He said something about her sleeping in our bed. I don't think that will happen, the hubster won't allow that. I think I will have her sleep in her own bed tonight. My dad brought it over.

Anyway, the heating guy Ernie is here fixing the heater. My step sister keeps saying rude things to him.  She  yelled at him and told him to "back off and get away from my brothers! " Then she was all friendly again and was like, "oh lets be friends!" and then when he came back inside she yelled at him again.

Having a great dane as a step sister is hard work. Roxy sure is cute though! Pictures coming soon!

Watts with my step sister Roxy.

Now watch and learn.

Ok stand still so I can get on! 

This is a picture of her going home. I think she will miss me. Bu-bye Roxy. Bu-bye! 

Free Bird

Just got home from a pony party and there was a knock at the door. I normally do not answer the door cause I'm weird and don't like to talk to new people. I went against my better judgement and saw a spiky haired silhouette behind the door.
"Yes?"
There stood a stout older lady with black spiky hair and Jackie O sunglasses. She was very sure that my bird was in her yard, and she kept saying something about a rooster. I knew immediately that this lady was either nuts, or confused... she was rushing me out the door. Before I knew it, I was in the yard with this stranger looking at all of my birds. She was still not satisfied. She told me that her dog was going after this bird and it has been camping in her bushes for about two weeks. This lady needs help, and I seem to know in my heart that I can wrangle this rogue bird. I tell the hubster to look after the boys while I go and help this lady. He has no idea what is going on, except that I am "going to look at a bird".  The hubster looked at me and I recall thinking this may be the last time I ever see him... because I was about to go into this ladies Ford Taurus station wagon, and she was elderly, and she almost pulled out into oncoming traffic. I almost didn't get to save the bird- I was thinking how this was one of the dumber things I have ever done. No cell phone, hubster had no idea where this lady lived, she was acting a little nuts, and her car was a death trap.


It turns out Mary was awesome. Very nice lady that just wanted to save this chicken because her dog was surely going to eat it.

We pulled onto her front lawn cause that's where she parks her car? She points to a large bush... I make a bird call and a little head pokes out "Oh hello!". Yup that there is a hen... a scared very small bantam barred rock chicken.

Now I just needed to get her out of the bush... and with that she ducked and covered into a thicket. I pushed her out one end and she bolted down the yard, I blocked her like David Beckham handling a soccer ball, she went that way, so did I... I was trying to corner her... but nope... she had some moves... her little feet were slapping against the pavement... pavement? I look up... we are now on a road... to main street. I needed to cut this off now... I wonder if birds run out of steam? I was not used to this. My girls will happily come to me... not run from me as if I were a monster. A monster in breeches and boots looking ridiculous at 3 pm on a Saturday afternoon!

Finally! One last turn and this girl was done... she finally squatted and let me wrangle her up into my arms for a nice warm cuddle. She looked almost relieved. "You're not going to eat me?" "Nope not today my friend"

Mary was thrilled. "Wow that was quite the show!" "Now what are you going to do with her?"
Take her home I guess... can she go in your car?
Soon enough I was shaking hands with Mary and was alive and well with a friend back at my homestead.
I put "Rogue" in the coop with my baby chicks and watched as she gobbled up all of their food. They came over and looked up at her, "Mama?" "Sure, I can be that"
A friendship was made with the babies. Good she can stay.

I introduced my other ladies to Rogue and they cocked there head to one side... did a side step right up to her and gave her a hard peck in the head.
"HEY! That wasn't nice!"
They each went up to her and pecked her in the face... so pathetic to watch.  This bird had either been with a Rooster or was moulting... she had missing feathers on her back... and seemed to be stressed as it was. My ladies could almost tell this about her and kept pecking her hard on her bald spots.
Poor thing... she was very submissive and just wanted to be liked.
They finally all settled in... and stopped pecking at her... but I noticed that she couldn't hang with the big girls... she was like the nerd that sat at the end of the table with no friends... It was really hard to watch.

Nighttime fell and it was time for them to go into their coop for the night.
I went out to make sure Rogue had made it in with her new family.

Nope... not there. Great. Where is she?

I shone the light around the run looking... and up in the brambles sat little Rogue on a nice big nest of brambles a good 5' off the ground. "no no silly girl" You're not an owl... and you're civilized now!
I plucked her out of the brush with no problem- gave her a cuddle, and told her that she has a home now. I opened the door and sat her on the perch. She made a thud sound... but sat there... the ladies just stared at her. Blindly. They can't see anything at night. I could have sat a a roasted Turkey there and they wouldn't know.

They didn't seem to mind.
My babies were in their box happily sleeping with each other.
I think she will be safe for the night.

"Goodnight ladies, see you in the morning!"

Poor Rogue. It's hard to be the new girl.

Rogue is on one side of the pen and the ladies are on the other.

Regina is going over to Rogue to peck her "Go on git!"  Notice how well they blend in with their habitat? This is why I don't worry about them and the hawks. 

She doesn't have a comb on top of her head, I think she must be a different Breed of chicken. I feel sorry for my little Rogue girl. 

Baby Squirrels

Can you stand it? I just want to hold them all day... but can't because my own kids are jealous. 

The roofers are here today replacing our garage roof. They found two baby squirrels in the roof... I have a soft spot for baby squirrels. I had a baby squirrel that I found in our chimney when I was a kid. I named her Badger... and I fed her for a week before taking her to a rehab center. Squirrels are amazing when they are babies but once they become teenagers, they become savage little beasts.

I would love to keep these two young ones... but I'm afraid that I will become too attached to them. I would like to reunite them with their mother tonight , but I'm afraid that it will be too long in the process. Maybe during the guys lunch break I can put them back for momma to take them. I already called the rehab center and they didn't answer, so I left a message. I know I would be very upset if I were the mother of these two cuties... she's probably beside herself watching these savage humans rip apart her house.

Just got a call from the refuge center, looks like I'm going to be making a trip over there to drop these babies off. I'm so sad. They said because of the noise the mother will most likely not return.

Oh my look at those little hands! 

Sniff my butt! 

Show Girls

"I want to show but I ain't putting ribbons in my hair!" - says the 12 year old girl in my class last night.

My lesson went well last night. It takes me a little while to get into the swing of things. I walked into the barn and the parents were helping to tack up the horses. That was new. I liked that. I think it is good to get parents involved so that they understand the horse world a little better.

Anyway, I had Emma, Mae, Emilie, and Becca in my lesson.
Mae was on this little black and white pony Holly. This pony is a little bullet... trotting around so fast. I just saw this red flannel jacket blurring around the ring...

Speaking of which I think the hardest thing about teaching is watching the students, your turning in circles constantly... I get dizzy.

 Emma had a moment where she couldn't get her pony Karma to canter... Karma is racing around doing the bouncy trot, and Emma is squeezing and getting thrown every which way. I finally pulled her over, and explained exactly what she must do... "Growl at her!" Even up her reins, push with her outside heel and pull with her inside rein!  And with a little confidence booster, Karma was dashing around the ring doing a canter. It was a proud moment. I wanted desperately to hop on that pony and make her do what she was told, but I knew that this was a fight for Emma, and she won it.

Then there was Emilie, a frail skinny but long legged girl. Very quiet... but a good little rider... She is one of those types that could easily put on some ballet slippers and do dance and riding, all in a weekend. She was riding my favorite horse "Ellie" for the first time. I was relieved by the end that Ellie was well behaved and didn't show off her amazing buck.

Last but not least was little Becca... who is seven and cute as a button. Her little legs were so short that they barely made it past the saddle pad... she was on an old police horse named Desi... Desi was so slow... Kick kick went little Becca's heel... and Mr. Desi just plodded along... barely feeling this flea like child on his back... good man of a horse.. he took care of her... and her toothy smile showed. She wanted to canter, but I couldn't let her just yet... so she did some figure eights, which she loved. I suppose it's like riding a bike.... I made her ride around me, and if she hit me, she would have to start over... she didn't hit me...close calls were had, but she made it around just fine. She got a ribbon for being really... damn cute.

The highlight of the lesson was when I asked them if they wanted to "Show" this season? They all raised there hand. Two girls had shown already, and done well. The other two looked desperate to have the same story to tell. I did a mock show for them... I pretended to be a judge and asked them to do the walk and trot and halt in a judges voice. Then the questions came. "Were we just doing a mock show?!" "I want to show but I'm not putting my hair in ribbons" "I don't want to be all girlie!" "I got 5 ribbons at my last show, I can't wait to do it again"

The comments came flying, and I couldn't help but think back to when I was their age in 1992. I had an asymmetrical bob, I tucked my breaches into my tube socks, and wore big colorful hoop earrings. I had no idea what these girls were talking about... I think they were hesitant to wear bows at the end of a pigtail braid. These girls were done looking cute.. they were little wild women, and were talking about getting tall boots! It's a big deal to go from garters to tall boots, your a woman now.

It was fun... It reminded me of my young days... and I walked away feeling refreshed... and old at the same time... . But wise. I knew that these girls could ride, and that they had potential, and they were riding for the right reasons, not to be cute and pretty but to KICK some ASS!

Sure they are cute... but.

Tonight I am going to be teaching a group lesson of about 6 girls ages 10-12. I am a little nervous... not to teach the lesson but to leave my boys at 4:15. My neighbor is going to come over and take care of them. I trust her and know she will do a great job but it's more the fact that my two boys turn into  terrible monsters around this time. I really hope they behave themselves.

I miss the days when I could just go to the barn and stay for as long as I wanted. I could talk, groom, ride and clean my tack after. Who knows, I could even stroll over to the bar with some friends and have a drink and talk horses. Those were the days.

Now a days,  I have a hot dinner ready and waiting for my husband. The kids are fed, changed, burped and ready for their bath. The house is as clean as I can make it while the trolls are up. I dash to the barn, rush around, clean, tack and get on the horse only to stomp around in a muddy, cold, dark ring.... untack my dirty saddle, hang up my dirty bridle, groom the horse and run back home.

It's a constant rush. I try to be gone no longer then two hours. The boys are normally bathed and put into bed... the hubster has cleaned up the remaining mess in the house and cleaned up the kitchen. I could stay at the barn longer I suppose... but I'm rushing home to see my husband who I barely said two words to before rushing out the house. He needs me, I know it, even though he says I smell like meat and cheese.

I don't know how working women do it. How do you find time to be with your husband and kids? I spend all day with my kids, and can't wait to leave the house for a moment. I feel horribly guilty that I am happy for a split second. I can't relax. I just miss the days when I could just grab my purse and go out the door to anywhere. Do you know what a luxury it is to drive in the car without something in the back seat either screaming or asking you the same question over and over again?? My life completely revolves around three other people... and I come in dead last.

They say kids grow up too fast. I can not wait for mine to go to pre-school!!! I appreciate how cute they are, and how they love me and need me now... but I refuse to forget how much of myself I give to them on a daily basis. They are worth it of course.. or are we supposed to say that? My kids are cute, but little monsters. I almost wish they were ugly so I could hate them a little. You can't hate my kids... though. You just can't. I'm not making this sound good.

 Currently, Watts is outside feeding bread to the chickens, he has eaten all the bread himself and is pushing his nose up against the window and asking for more. He also has just taken the diaper bags that are sitting outside and thrown them in the chicken coop, hoping they hit one of the chicks, he laughs maniacally. He is now throwing rocks at Ron the cat, laughing so hard that he has fallen over in some mud. He got bored of that and is now chasing the chickens around with a lacrosse stick. Meanwhile, Jbone is crawling around eating the cat who was trying to get away earlier from Watts. His mouth is full of cat hair, he doesn't give a shit.  Ron knows what I'm talking about, he spends just as much time trying to "relax".  I rest my case.
There is a lot going on. And you! You get to sit there and read this blog. I hate you... and your time.

Watts outside,  destroying things that are nice and happy. 

James sucking on Ron's fur coat. 

Jbone... mouth full of hair. What a ramrod.

Not feeling it today.

I have nothing to say today. I still feel a little dead inside from the weekend. In the meantime, here is a person dressed as a snail crawling across a road. I also included a drawing I did of the pony Raven I have been riding. She is more like a dog. Terrible to ride because she knows nothing, but once you get on the ground with her she is a love bug... so docile that I could put her in a half nelson and wrestle her to the ground like a great dane. I have a lot of work to do with her. Too bad the weather sucks the big one today. Rain, cold, shit of a day. Oh just shoot me.

Farewell.

We went away for the weekend. I drank way too much on Saturday night and felt like crap all day Sunday. The first thing I did when I got home was check on my chicks. Buffy came running up to me as if to say "Mommy! your home!!!" I picked her up and gave her a cuddle. She immediately made me feel better. I was dying inside... my insides hurt, I could barely think straight, I was working on 4 hours of sleep, and I still had another 6 hours to go before the boys were to go to bed....

To pass the time we went grocery shopping. Not an easy task when your energy level is on E.

Get home, unpack the groceries, cook dinner, almost time for bed... I go out to check on my birds again... I feel awful... I had a spare minute to go and hang out with them.

Orange Feathers everywhere.
NO!.
 I open the door.... The chicks are hiding in the nest box. I grab them... one, two, three.... no Buffy.

No. No. No.

I walk out... a pile of feathers, some entrails... nope. that was it. It was Buffy. The hawk got Buffy.

Awesome.

I have no energy to even cry at this point. I walk inside, go upstairs, sit down on the toilet seat, the hubster is giving Watts and James a bath... "Buffy is dead" Hubster says, "Sorry Scoots, I'm so sorry" He is in an even worse state then I am...

I just sat there like a lump.... that was the final straw to one of the worst days ever.

I went to bed at 7:15... James crying in his crib... not wanting to go to sleep... needed a bottle... I can't move, stick a fork in me. Hubster takes over... and soon crashes next to me... "My god, what a terrible day"

It ain't much better today either... I still feel like crap.
It's grey, cold, windy, not a lick of sun.
How appropriate. This one is going to take me a while to get over.

Chilly Wilson

I broke the heater. The heater only heats one side of our house, and in order to push heat to the other side I have to close the valve partially to the kitchen. The heater likes to heat the kitchen and our bedroom upstairs only. I don't blame the heater really.. what's the point of working so hard when freezing cold air comes billowing up through the floor boards?

Anyway, I watched the plumber add water to our system , and magically the heaters turned on. This was months ago when the heat was non existent. I decided to follow suit and did the same, only I really don't know what I'm doing. Water would come flying out of a pipe when I added too much. But the heat would turn on.

Anyway, the heat was not working yesterday... added water.... and then my heater room started to flood with water... and then no heat at all. Wonderful.

The heater guy is on his way. Will be here in 15 minutes... I'm wondering if I should play complete ignorance and not say a word about where all the water came from? Or.... should I just tell him everything I have been doing so he looks at me like a parent and starts explaining to me about how I shouldn't touch his toys.

Screw it, I'm putting on the dumb mask and zipping my lips... lets see if this guy can figure out what I did to break our heater... it will be a test to see how good he is.

I will keep you posted on how he did. Or she... could be a woman. I just made a funny joke.
HA.

Ok Ernie, yes Ernie was his name... and he was awesome. He came in like a knight on a horse and knew exactly what he was doing. He fixed my heater and then showed me how to work it! I did not break the heater after all. It turns out that one of the valves had flipped open and the water valve I like to play with was always supposed to be open. So he closed the valve and drained some water, and then explained to me how the whole system worked and I took notes... cause I'm really dumb, and have no memory for these sorts of things.

 I then repeated everything back to him, and he quickly handed me his cell phone number and told me to call him if it broke... I don't think he had faith in me... I think my lazy eye must have been off again... it makes me look especially stupid.
Oh well, at least it's fixed.
Thanks Ernie!

Pooper 2000

Daddy I left you a present! 

I talk about poop a lot. Not only does a good poop joke make me laugh but I find that I deal with a lot of different kinds of poop on a daily basis. It's a serious topic around this homestead.
Last night I dashed out the minute the hubster pulled into the driveway. I told him to leave the car running, that's how fast I was out the door. I had a lesson to teach, and I wanted to get to the barn on time.

After teaching half a lesson and riding for a half hour I came home feeling fresh as a daisy, rejuvenated and calm. I walked through the door to find a quite somber, sad looking man standing there listening to me blather on about how wonderful my life is. I finally get around to asking him how his night was with the boys.

"Watts pooped in the tub". Oh no.... when Watts pulls the poop in the tub act, it can really shake up the schedule. It's a challenge especially if you are by yourself. "Was it a log or was it loose?" "A small log" "Oh well that isn't so bad" "I'm just glad I wasn't in the tub with him"

These are the types of conversations I have at 8 pm. Watt's hears my voice and starts screaming "mommy mommy mommy, WATER!!!! I Waaaantttt WATER!!! mom, mom , mommy MOMMY!!!"

The hubsters face twists into pure exasperation... "Oh great he's up" He turns defeated towards the stairs to remedy the pooper 2000.

"No, stop.... I'll get him, you sit down and chill for a second"
I go up stairs... Watts is chatting up a storm. "What's that? What's that? " He wants to play the whats that game, where he points to things like blankets, and bottles, things he's knows... he is just filling the air with his voice. It's annoying to say the least. He has drank his milk, and now he wants water... only the hubster has already been down this road already... there sits a half bottle of water. Argh. "Go to bed, goodnight! " "NOOOOOO!!!!"

I close the door and wait for screams. Nothing?. Hmmm Well that was easy.
BANG. Sound of the bottle smashing door. Yup that sounds about right.

Two year olds....

The Pooper2000  finally goes to sleep. I find a shell of a man trying to watch TV... I listen to the rest of his night. "You left the baby Tylenol next to bed" "Oh shit!" "Yup- he found it and poured it all over your side of the bed" "Awesome, sorry... that sounds about right, I totally forgot"

"I tried to go for a walk with the boys, the minute I got outside, it started to rain, I brought them back inside, and the sun came out" "Yeah- that sucks....the weather was weird, during my ride"

It went on like this... for a good 5 minutes of how my 2 year old tormented my young strong husband.
He had the boys for 2 hours, and it ruined his day.

I felt bad for him.... It was a bad night.
It's called the terrible twos for a reason.
It ends at three right?
I look at my darling 7 month old... he coos, cuddles, smiles, has nice smelling poop (sounds weird, but it smells like buttermilk) and looks at me with absolute love.... one day he will be two, and I will look at him differently. He will be a drunk midget running around destroying my things. I look at the bright side. At least I can really appreciate my baby now, while he is soft, cuddly and lovely.

Thanks Pooper2000 for making me love my baby!

Buffy, Blue and the Crew

My chicks have moved outside to live with the big girls. They have a box with a screen in front and an opening just large enough for them to enter. This morning I went to check on them. I pull the rope to open the sliding door and I hear the girls jump down off their perch. I always wait for them to come out, and I say to them  "Good morning ladies" they look at me as if to say "yeah? whats so good about it?" wheres my grub?"
Anyway, this morning I didn't bother to look for them, I just opened the door, and then went into the hen house to check on my babies. One, two, three... where is Blue?! I started to panic. Of Course Buffy comes over and wants to be cuddled. "Not now Buffy, where is Blue?" I run out to look for her... There she is! Hanging with the big girls... Buffy comes running out as if she knew who I was looking for and gives Blue a little peck as if to say, "You got mom all upset! Look! Stay with us babies, your not big enough" Buffy herds Blue back into the hen house. They are getting so big so quick, Just a week ago they were in my closet... now look at them, strutting around with the ladies. Oh... they grow up so fast.

Martha says "Is this food? Where's my oats? You always bring me oats... this doesn't taste like oats." 

Back to front: Blue, Fluffy, Goldie, and Buffy. I think Buffy is a rooster. She seems to charge around and boss the others around... always protecting them. 

Regina and Martha heading out the door. "No oats? Screw you mom" is what that look is. 

My first week back in the saddle.

I did not draw this... This is a Norman Thelwell cartoon... he died in 2004 and was an amazing pony cartoonist. He is from England, and worked for Punch magazine. He is one of my favorite artists.

Thelwell Website

It has been about five years since I have consistently rode a horse. I was surprised at how quickly my muscle memory came back. My body knows what to do but is lacking the muscle to keep me in place. I am , after a week, starting to get my muscle back in all the right places so that I can stay put in one place and let loose in another. Without my muscle I am gripping everywhere just to stay still and am overcompensating by using my hands or lower leg. Riding looks easy, but every muscle is involved from your head down to your heal.

Last night I rode a horse named Ellie. I also rode her on Sunday. She has been ridden a handful of times since coming to Snap Dragon Stables. I brought her in from the field and hooked her up to the cross ties.. She immediately started to dance and weave nervously all over the place.

Horses are herd animals. They can't be by themselves. Ellie has made friends with a horse named Lucy, and they are best buds. Ellie was freaking out without Lucy by her side. One of the barn girls brought Lucy in while I brushed Ellie and tried to get her tacked up. She was very upset... but I was reassured that she would be fine in the ring. My favorite saying is "bad in the barn, good in the ring" I was hoping this would be true this time.

Ellie is a teenager, and must have been a show horse at some point. She was a little stiff at first, but was very quiet at the trot. She didn't pull anything sneaky, and responded well to my leg. A tap with my left heal and she drifted right. This old mare had some training, and she was letting me know about it.

Her attention soon left Lucy, and within moments we were dancing. I was Ellie's new partner in crime. No toes were being stepped on and we glided across the ring in sync. Both of us having something in common. Out of shape, old girls, diamonds in the rough, wanting to dazzle each other with our skills.

I dismounted, and Ellie nudged me, head held low, calm, relaxed, a low snort (a comforting relaxed sound a horse makes).  This was a completely different horse then what I had brought out of the barn.

The next day I was to ride her again. I brought her into the barn and hooked her up. I started to brush her... and then it dawned on me... she wasn't like this yesterday. She was skipping and sashaying every which way... but  today, she stood like a rock, watching me, listening to me as I gabbed to the girls. Could she possibly remember me?

I saddled her up and walked out to the ring. We started to work, and already she was much better then the previous day. She was loose, more limber, more agile, and more graceful. She floated, extended, collected, bended and responded as if she had been in serious training for months. Ginger, the owner was watching. "I heard she can jump" No need to ask... let's get the jumps set up.

Ginger set up the course, and soon I was trotting up to my first cross rail on a horse that nobody has seen jump... Ellie could see the jump coming and turned into a Porshe... wanting to gallop down the line... me holding her back, collecting her up, keeping her straight and focused without getting in her way. She sailed over the jump... no problem. She liked it, and so did I. We did it a few more times, and it became less sloppy every time. Could I ask her to bend this hard at a canter? I didn't know, I asked, and she happily responded... bending sharply, while collected and balanced she sailed over the jumps. This was no spring chicken. This was my new fancy girl!!

She is my new Bestie... this is what I love about horses. I can always find something in common with them. It sounds cliche... but riding is very much like dancing. Some dance partners have no rhythm and step on your toes and it takes time to get on the same page. While others are like your right arm, they are just meant to be there at your side.

I'm excited, I feel like a kid again. I got fire in my belly, and energy in my step... I wonder what Ellie is doing right now... I wonder if she feels sore from yesterday, or happy to be back into work... I think horses like to be worked, and praised. I hope so anyway. I know I do.

It's raining today, I don't think we will be dancing tonight. That's ok though- I have time.

Great Danes in the Waiting Room

My Aunt has a friend that is a veterinarian that appreciated my "Space Cats" cartoon. She asked me to do something Vet related. When I think of a Veterinarian Office; I had this image in my head.

My step mom has a thing for Great Danes, and my dad gets to take care of them. They are very large dogs, with a big heart, with no concept of their body size. Great Danes like to sit on furniture like humans. A lot of times they will try to sit on your lap. They are love machines that think they are the size of cat's.

One time I was house sitting and I had to take my step dog Lucy (or as I liked to call her Lucifer) to the Vet. She had a bad fever... and knew the minute we got into the Vet office where she was.... My favorite part about vet offices are the floors. Slippery for long toe nailed animals... Lucy was ice skating all over the place, legs going everywhere as she frantically tried to turn around to get out the door.... I had to sit on the ground to calm her down... while she tried to hide under the chair, to no avail... she then tried to clamber into my lap... that didn't work, so she eventually kicked me out of my seat and just sat in the chair,  while people AND their animals looked at me like I was nuts.

I would also like to add that when a dog has anxiety- they pant.... hard. I walked out of the office completely covered in shoelace slobber and burns on my hands from holding the leash. It was not a good day for either of us.

This is a good example of how a Great Dane sits on furniture. They are ridiculous animals. 

Here is a picture of Lucy on the sofa.. she was a naughty girl that ate a whole bag of bread. I just got done  telling her that she was "in big trouble" so she ran for protection and hid under the sheet on the sofa. You couldn't leave anything out on the counters... she would casually walk by, turn her head, grab the bag- and run. Argh.. what a pain she was. 

Space Cats

I needed ideas for a cartoon. My Aunt Julia came through and said that she would like to see Cats on a UFO. This is what I came up with. 

Muffy is a pink stuffed animal, she is the queen. The cat's go to her for advice. Meanwhile, this was not their spaceship, they stole it. They are Pirate Cats that are high on catnip. They hate dog's and humans. The brown cat (Shades) has a fanny pack full of freeze dried fish and some evaporated milk. When the leader  (Roger) gets mad, he cracks the whip, only it's a cat toy. Don't tell him this or he will freak out and shit on the floor. The yellow cat (Dale) is a mutant freak that contributes nothing, he is in charge of cleanup. He has a lot of work to do. They felt sorry for the human... and left him some bird and mouse face trophies. He can't eat it though because they put tape over his mouth. Duct Tape. They use him as a scratching post, and lick his fingers with their hairy tongues. They are evil, dirty drug addict pirate cats. 

Snow on the homestead.

I am supposed to go and see my mom today to help her pack for her vacation. She is leaving tomorrow morning for Turks and Caicos and needs to be at the airport at 4:30 in the morning. I feel bad that I can't take her to the airport, she will need to get a taxie or something.

Snow is coming down hard, it's not sticking to the concrete though, which gives me hope that the roads will be fine. I wanted to go riding tonight, and am hoping the snow will melt by then. I have already made dinner (a salad with nuts and cranberries) so I won't have to worry about it when I get back. There is nothing worse then rushing around.

I'm debating whether to take my moms two cats back with me. They are horrible creatures that are almost ferrel at this point. They are skittish and have a bad habit of pooping, peeing, and ralphing on sofas, beds, rugs. There is nothing worse then an angry dirty cat. One lives in the basement, is the size of a raccoon, and is scared of his own shadow. He also has a bald spot on his butt, and won't let me check him out... idiot.

We are also supposed to go and get the fish out of the pond tomorrow. Ugh... this is starting to bum me out. I hate those cats, the fish are going to be a pain, and this snow is very pretty but sucks.

Think of something nice. Oh! I was asked to teach a riding lesson this Sunday and Tuesday. I have ridden three times now, and am already moving up in the ranks. This is very exciting. I love teaching! My first student will be a little girl that is enthusiastic about horses. Sounds great. I just need to find a babysitter for Tuesday. Perhaps my neighbor? fingers crossed.

Ok I got to get a move on. Sorry this blog sucked the big one today.

This is what my moms cat's are like when you go near them.

Blogs are Dumb!!!

My shanty- this is where my brain lives most of the time.

I started this blog to give me something to do and get me away and off of Facebook. Being a stay at home mom is boring and not very satisfying, especially for a brain like me. Now I'm addicted to Blogger,  Facebook and Yahoo.

Good thing the kids wont let me anywhere near my computer... they scream the minute I sit down in front of it. I get one hour a day ( or two-three depending on how many naps I can get off the poo-poo party) to write and escape the madness of my day in, day out diapers, tantrums, and baby talk consisting of goo goo ga ga whaaaa.... a boo boo.

So I was trying to figure out how to make money while blogging... I have been told that maybe I could write a book or maybe I could be on a talk show one day. I'm a realist. This will never happen. But I was still a little curious to see what other people were doing.  I went to look at other peoples blogs... and realized that this has already been done... one after the other I clicked to find another stay at home mom talking about her kids...

SO BORING. I was bored. I don't care about your kids or how you went and took them to the ocean... and look at little Jimmy and perfect Jenny playing in the sand... look at how happy you are blah blah.
Lame. And these moms are sooo goody two shoes and nice... and perfect with their hair and nails... Makes me want to hurl poo at them and there stupid smiles.

Nobody gives a shit besides your mom and some relatives.....now go fall in a mud puddle.

I digress.....

The blogs that stood out were the people that MADE stuff. One lady did these dolls that were very Tim Burton- esque. They were beautiful and amazing. Unfortunately, they were so amazing that she copyrighted the photos so I couldn't show you an example. One of the dolls looked exactly like Watts with a very high fever... red around the eyes, crystal blue eyes and pale porcelain like skin, rosy little lips. Vampire like. I loved her work and was impressed.

I think the most boring out of all the blogs were the Chinese poetry blogs. It didn't translate well- all the English translation had to be done wrong, or else these Asians suck at poetry. I'm sure it was lovely in their native tongue.

I liked the simple looking blogs... the ones that looked nuts made me want to run for the hills. A Simple clean page was inviting.

Anyway, it was very discouraging. The only thing I have going for me on this blog are my silly illustrations. This is a problem for me. It's hard if I don't have a vision. I can't just draw something. I have to feel like it, first off. It takes time and I have to have the image already in my head. Usually as I'm creating the character a punch line will come in... a dash of humor.

Nobody is going to read this crap. My blogs are too long. I realized that people just skim to the photos. Or in my case- the drawings.

So here you go. I got you to read this blog because I did a nice drawing of a log cabin that I would like to live in.
Notice how grey it is? I did it on trace- marker color really doesn't do well over pencil. This is my shanty drawing. I wanted to escape to this place after seeing a bunch of other people's blogs just like mine. I hate to be unoriginal. I was feeling dull and lifeless... like this drawing. It was also done at 10:30 last night. My brain is numb by this time.... not much going on in the old thinker.

At Tyler School of Art I would walk down the halls and someone printed up a bunch of fliers that said "ITS ALREADY BEEN DONE!"
Basically. As an artist you are trying to capture people. How are you different? The only thing I have going for me is my angry little brain and my ability to draw anything. You name it... I can do it... but only when I feel like it, and usually it's when I'm depressed. I'm like superman in a wheel chair.

So anyway, if you got this far into reading my crap blog... did my erie drawing of my shanty get your attention? If so then I'm right as usual. I need color cartoons though. I can do whimsical....too. I just need to get my mojo going.
Give me some ideas!.
All you have to type is something like "Giraffe roller skating against some race horses with Elvis riding it down the finish line"
This is good practice for me. I used to sit for hours at the school library while my friends would give me scenarios to draw and wait to be amazed as I made their characters come true... or I would just draw a flying penis and an arrow pointing at them.
If its dumb I won't do it.
Simple is best.
Just saying.
And thanks for actually reading this whole thing. I applaude you.

Love and Marriage

I am certainly not married to Al Bundy from "Love and Marriage", but I suppose you could say I'm a little like Peggy.

I came with a lot of heavy baggage. I have a lot of college loans and I have really expensive taste. I also am hard to deal with because of my social outbursts. I can't seem to help telling the truth- especially if you smell or look awful. It takes a strong personality with lots of confidence to hang out with me.

I was shocked when the hubby wanted to marry me. I took him up to the Adirondacks for a test run. You either love this place or hate it. If you hate it... I hate you. Plain and simple. I can NOT be in a relationship with a person that is allergic to animals, can't cut wood with an Axe, dresses like a douche, has a huge ego, or screams when they see a mouse. It's not going to work out.

So, the hubby loved the Adirondack mountains, and chopped wood like a champ. One blow straight down the middle, without breaking a sweat. Sexiest thing ever.... he also can sit by a fire while the smoke blows in his face ... he just sat there sipping his beer slugging his whiskey, and enjoyed the fire. Manly.

So I was driving us home, and he was sitting next to me reading the real estate paper... dreaming of owning a house there... because that's how much he liked it.... his bare foot up on the dashboard, paper in hand... we are driving on the New Jersey Turnpike... my favorite place in the world. Listening to some tunes... he looks at me and says "Will you marry me?" "Sure" silence.... for about a minute. "I'm serious" "I know" driving... and then I start hitting the steering wheel. "Really?! I'm driving on the NEW JERSEY TURNPIKE!!!, we just left Eden, and you ask me NOW!?!"

Anyway, he isn't much for romance, but neither am I. He was 22 years old. Young, still in college, working hard at a lock company.... he had potential. He is one of the smartest people I know... and the best part about that is that you would never know it... He is quiet, polite, softly spoken... he comes off as normal.. but he's not. The hubster is a walking computer with feelings. I knew I had the hope diamond in the rough.

Anyway, fast forward 6 years... and here I am in a house that we own, two gorgeous boys, riding horses, doing my art, writing, traveling, and I'm loved by the perfect man. I'm the luckiest person in the world.

He works his ass off, comes home, eats dinner, feeds the kids, gives them a bath and puts them to bed so that I can go out and be with horses. When I come home he has everything under control and doesn't bitch.

Sure he stinks... and is hairy... and can be a complete turd... but hes my stink turd. I love him.

Thanks Poophead... your the bestest. xoxoxo Me so happy. So very very happy.

The hubby when we were first married doing "Tan Dan" He wore all tan and ran around the house "tan danning"... anyway, I keep him hidden because he is a very important man now, so I must hide his identity. This is all you get. 

Ponds, Indoor water gardens, and Water features

This was the garden when it was first done- a strange man built this little path that wandered into a circle. He never came back to groom it. It became my secret garden.

It started when I went to "Don't go near me Amy's" house with my best friend Claire when I was around 14. We were in her back yard and we started to dig a hole because we were bored, and we also had no life. Dang it. We were nerds.

The hole got pretty big, and we liked doing it. The next day we were at my house. I asked my mom if we could dig a hole. Our yard was un-groomed, was a real ugly mess and had a lot of dog poop in it. My mom was fine with it and told us "to do it over by that "shrub" over there". Claire and I got to digging. By the end of the day we were up to our waist's in a hole. Now what? Do we just fill it in or... what?

We got my brother to help us with the hole to even it out and get around tree roots and by golly we had ourselves a 4' deep 12'x6' hole. I researched ponds and found that we needed sand, and a PVC liner. I did the math and figured out how much sand we would need to put in the pond.

I was failing math, and it showed when I got home from school and the pond was filled completely with sand. The dump truck had come and just unloaded the amount I had asked for. I only needed 2" everywhere. I was dumb.... it was another two days of shoveling sand.  (If you have a 4'd x 6'w x12' L hole with a shelf that is 2' high all around the edge and want to coat every bottom surface with 2" of sand, how much sand do you need?) This could totally be a math question on a test. I think I ordered 1 ton of sand. I think I needed about 25 lbs. durrrrrrr...

Anyway, by the end of the month we had a nice pond, and some fish. The pond helped make our terrible looking yard into a little Eden. It became the focal point, and that "shrub" turned out to be a flowering dogwood. Who knew... it just never got enough sunlight to bloom because of the weed trees that was blocking the sun. I think it also likes the pond.

Anyway, fast forward 18 years, two pond liners later, and 4 total clean outs.... the pond is still there. It is my pond. I once got off the bus from school and would clean out the filter and feed the fish, I spent hours with it. Now it is a swamp with very large fish in it... the pump is pathetic and my mom has just informed me that the water level has dropped a good 9". There is a hole somewhere. Wonderful news.

If you want to get me ticked off tell me something that I love is broken or about to get replaced with something sucky and I will go on a rampage of evil thoughts and have spontaneous outbursts. I turn into a special needs child.

It has taken me about two weeks to calm down enough to write this segment.

It has been decided that the hubster and I will be taking the fish and will fill in my beloved pond. I am beside myself. It has to be done though because my mom is too old to take care of it or fix it. It is just a burden to her now. I'm not around, the pond has to go.

Anyway, knowing how depressed this made me feel, the hubster went out and found a round tub in our yard left by the previous owners. I mentioned that I really didn't want an outdoor pond because of all the upkeep it needed. I have always wanted an indoor pond.

Our front porch is perfect. It has a cement floor, and is surrounded by windows. I drew up the designs, and sure enough the hubster made it happen in less then 2 hours. Crack goes the whip or in this case, no crack at all, he did it all by himself.

This weekend we are going to go and rescue the fish from the death pool, and say goodbye to my childhood happy place. I would also like to add that this pond added value to my mom's house... my mother is a stubborn little moo that wont move from a house that needs a young happy family in it. Instead, the house will rot with everything else in my past. Sorry couldn't help that last paragraph, I have to vent a little!!!! Remember... I'm special.

Here are the photos!

This was my vision for the indoor pond. Those are logs that will surround the tub with a base put on top and some rocks and some AstroTurf. 

The process: The tub from our back yard

The base which will hold a waterfall and some plants.

The hubster building the base and playing some lacrosse while he thinks.

The pond with the logs and rocks.  I still need to move the rocks, paint the wall, add some Astra turf, get the waterfall and pump installed, the fish, and some plants. It always looks rough at first. 

My childhood pond. Say goodbye to my tranquil life before.

Can you see the fish?

This is the same garden as the one at the top of the page, when left to it's own devices. I would have to take a weed whacker just to find the path. Nature hates the labyrinth path.

A strange man playing with a boy in our yard. It was my secret garden photo.

Colonel Mustard, the escape turtle. He was very old and smart! 

Colonel Mustards house in our back garden. He hated it.