Just when you think you are beginning to get a handle on things, life tosses another disaster your way. At least this time, the disaster may actually be running in our favor. You be the judge.
Sunday evening we were having some problems with breakers blowing in our house. Nothing Brad or our electrician friend did could make the breakers stay on. Half of my house was without power, including my sewing room. The electrician friend was going to think on things overnight, and come back Monday to see if he could figure things out. He was sure it was a short, just not sure where it might be. Also, the funny smell that came and went was a little troubling, but not overly so.
Fast-forward to 1:41 am. The funny smell is now so strong that it smells like smoke. I get up, go into the family room, and hear crackling coming from my ceiling. I check outside to make sure the snow storm from hell has not descended. Clear, cold sky. (Cold as in -15). I get Brad up, and make him come listen to the ceiling. It is on fire people. Yes, I said fire. As in flames, in my ceiling, of my home.
I get Sara up, throw on some clothes, and start gathering things to get the hell out of the house. Brad is calling 911. Sara is getting dressed, still not sure what is going on, but knows when Mom uses that voice, she'd better shake it fast. I grab my car keys, Penny dog, and head out to my Jeep. Get Penny loaded, move the Jeep away from the front of the house. Start Brad's truck, and head back in for Keon. Keon is scared out of his tiny yellow Lab mind, and does not want to leave the house. Sara manages to get him into my Jeep. I grab Bast, and throw her in Sara's car. Head back into the house, get all the cash, important papers, and checks. Brad and Sara are loading guns and game mounts into the back of the truck. I grab a couple of rifles to put in the cab of the truck, and realize that while I did good starting the truck, I also managed to lock the doors, with the only key in the ignition. Swearing commenced. Crying also, to tell the truth.
One advantage to living in a rural area is that you have a damn good chance that one of your next door neighbors is a member of the voluteer fire department. Martin was at my house in three minutes. He assessed the situation, and helped us move things out of the house. There isn't much else I can do at this point. The fire trucks have arrived, so I go stand by the Jeep, call my brother Joe in California, and cry like a little girl. Joe is awesome, lets me babble all I want, and keeps me out of everyone else's hair so they can do what needs to be done. It takes a good man to get a hysterical phone call from your sister in the middle of the night, stay calm, and talk her down. I love him more than words can say. I'm even sorry for most of the lousy things I did to him when we were kids.
The firemen were awesome. They got in the house, moved my tin pie safe to a safer place, took all my family pictures off the wall and stacked them in the kitchen. One guy opened up the ceiling while another stood ready with the water hose. The fire was out in minutes. I walked back in the house, and the guys apologized for the mess. For crying out loud, these guys saved my house, and they thought I'd be upset over a mess. I could have kissed them all. Seriously.
What could have been a devastating loss is only minor damage. The insurance company is being awesome, the adjustor was at the house within three hours of the initial phone call to our agent. My girlfriend Susan hadn't rented her trailer home yet, and the insurance company paid for two months of rent and utilites yesterday. Brad's boss loaned us the big enclosed trailer to move our furniture with. The dogs are safe at the boarder until we get all moved in, and then they can come home. Bast is still at the house, safe in my bedroom, and I'll bring her over the rental tomorrow or Friday. We did not loose one personal possession people. Just carpet, drywall, flooring, etc. Not one personal thing. We've had more offers of help, places to stay, the girls next door offered to take over feeding the horses and cows for us. The place we are renting is only about three miles away from home. Susan and her husband Tom opened their home to us until we get things moved and arranged in the rental. We are well insured, so everything will be fixed, and even some things will be uprgraded.
Most importantly, we are all safe, and know exactly how many people we can count on. That list is large, and perhaps the best Christmas present I will ever receive. There will be no presents this year, but I have my family, my friends, my pets, and my home. I think that is enough.
Getting ahold of me will be a little difficult for a while. Either send me an email to moosethreaddesigns AT gmail DOT com, or call my cell 406-240-9270. If you are a spammer, and call my phone, I will hunt you down and make your life miserable. I promise.
Just know that we are all safe, sound, and in very good hands. This last year has been trying, and damn near impossible, but I have lots of people who love my family, and are taking good care of us. I can't explain how grateful I am for all of that. Go hug someone for me, okay?
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Thursday, November 27, 2008
I Am Thankful For
- A husband who loves me no matter what, and understands my need for good books, music, fabric, and yarns - and tells me to go have a little shopping spree from time to time
- A daughter who is working her ass off going to school full time, working full time, and still is able to run a little errand for her forgetful mother
- A warm comfortable home, with my own little sewing studio in it
- Animals (cats, dogs, horses) who make me smile, and give me loving for just a little kibble now and then
- An extended family who I know loves me, no matter how long it's been since we've seen each other
- Friends I can count on, who inspire me to be a better person
- Living in a country where I can have my own opinion, express it, and suffer no violence for it.
- Realizing I am living through, and contributing to, history
- A million other things that escape me at the moment, but fill my heart with warmth and light
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Election Day
Today is finally the day to take advantage of our right to decide who will be at the helm of our country for the next four years. If you do not vote, you are allowing someone else the control of your life. I don't know about you, but I have so little control of my life these days, I'm not willing to relinquish this bit.
We were quite disturbed this morning to find out that Brad and Sara were not on the voting rolls, even though both had registered, and Brad had definately voted in the last election. Brad's going down to the courthouse to check it out on his lunch hour, but it doesn't look good people. Yes, we should have checked before this. Yes, we will next election. Meanwhile, I will be casting my vote this afternoon, and enjoying the hell out of my right and priviledge as an American.
That is all, carry on, and for the love of mercy people, VOTE!!!
We were quite disturbed this morning to find out that Brad and Sara were not on the voting rolls, even though both had registered, and Brad had definately voted in the last election. Brad's going down to the courthouse to check it out on his lunch hour, but it doesn't look good people. Yes, we should have checked before this. Yes, we will next election. Meanwhile, I will be casting my vote this afternoon, and enjoying the hell out of my right and priviledge as an American.
That is all, carry on, and for the love of mercy people, VOTE!!!
Sunday, November 2, 2008
791
That's how many words into my NaNoWriMo novel I am. Not as many as I would like to have, but it's better than the big fat zero I started out with this morning. Writing is hard, especially when I haven't done it in so long. It's like going to the gym after many years absence. The muscles are there, but they are not working very well, and I have a feeling I'm going to be very sore tomorrow.
But, I'm starting, and the important thing is to go forward, not sit and stagnate. Right? I want to write, I just don't quite remember how at this particular moment.
As for the rest of my life? Money still sucks, but we're working on it. I have a freezer full of elk, and one full of pork. I'm surprisingly fond the pigs now that they've had their little visit to the butcher. The damn cow got out yesterday, 20 minutes after Brad and Sara left for a day hunting trip, and 10 minutes before I was supposed to leave for work. Thank all that is holy that a loose cow is apparently a valid excuse for being late for work. In Montana anyway, I'm not sure it would work in LA or New York.
And can I just say how much I love the end of Daylight Savings Time? That extra hour is lovely. Really, really a wonderful way to spend my Sunday. And now I'm off to bed, and I may even get up an hour early tomorrow to write before I head off to work. But don't hold your breath!
But, I'm starting, and the important thing is to go forward, not sit and stagnate. Right? I want to write, I just don't quite remember how at this particular moment.
As for the rest of my life? Money still sucks, but we're working on it. I have a freezer full of elk, and one full of pork. I'm surprisingly fond the pigs now that they've had their little visit to the butcher. The damn cow got out yesterday, 20 minutes after Brad and Sara left for a day hunting trip, and 10 minutes before I was supposed to leave for work. Thank all that is holy that a loose cow is apparently a valid excuse for being late for work. In Montana anyway, I'm not sure it would work in LA or New York.
And can I just say how much I love the end of Daylight Savings Time? That extra hour is lovely. Really, really a wonderful way to spend my Sunday. And now I'm off to bed, and I may even get up an hour early tomorrow to write before I head off to work. But don't hold your breath!
Friday, October 24, 2008
Monday, October 6, 2008
Tired, so very very tired
Warning, this post is going to be whiny and ranty. Read at your own risk.
I'm tired. Tired down to my bones. Tired of working so much, tired of being so broke, tired of only being at home or at work, tired of the only conversations Brad and I have being about money, or the lack thereof. Tired of being tired.
We have more than enough equity in our property to pay off all of our debt, and still have a reasonable mortgage payment. But, because we have so much damn debt, no one will loan us a penny. Not one fucking person can look at what we owe, and what we have, and decide that if they could just help us out, we'd be able to make our payments on time, and save some money. And I'm too tired to be mad about it anymore. I'm just scared and tired, and that's such a lovely combination, now isn't it?
It's October, and we don't have our winter hay in. And we are behind on other bills, not just a little, but a lot. I just want one person to look at us and realize that all we want is to pay our bills on time, and cut us a break. We screwed up, we allowed ourselves to get into too much debt (but not credit card debt, thank all that is holy), and now we just want to use the equity in our home to pay off that debt, and get back on the right track. We don't want to go to Aruba, or buy a fancy new car, or something else we don't need. We really just want to pay our bills on time, feed our critters, save some money, and breath.
I'm tired. Tired down to my bones. Tired of working so much, tired of being so broke, tired of only being at home or at work, tired of the only conversations Brad and I have being about money, or the lack thereof. Tired of being tired.
We have more than enough equity in our property to pay off all of our debt, and still have a reasonable mortgage payment. But, because we have so much damn debt, no one will loan us a penny. Not one fucking person can look at what we owe, and what we have, and decide that if they could just help us out, we'd be able to make our payments on time, and save some money. And I'm too tired to be mad about it anymore. I'm just scared and tired, and that's such a lovely combination, now isn't it?
It's October, and we don't have our winter hay in. And we are behind on other bills, not just a little, but a lot. I just want one person to look at us and realize that all we want is to pay our bills on time, and cut us a break. We screwed up, we allowed ourselves to get into too much debt (but not credit card debt, thank all that is holy), and now we just want to use the equity in our home to pay off that debt, and get back on the right track. We don't want to go to Aruba, or buy a fancy new car, or something else we don't need. We really just want to pay our bills on time, feed our critters, save some money, and breath.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Hunting is Good
Well, Brad left on Friday morning to head back into the Bob Marshall Wilderness to elk hunt with his brother and his brother's buddy. And be still my heart, last night my phone rang, and it was my sweetie! He got his elk, a nice 5 x 6 bull that will look lovely in my freezer!!! Yeah!!!
I was really worried about this trip for a couple of reasons. Number 1, the guys go 24 miles back on horseback. No quick trips out if someone gets hurt, or something happens to one of the ponies. Reason the second, this was our horse Sam's first trip out since seriously injuring his back leg in February. As usual, I worried for no reason (the more you read here, the more you will discover that worry seems to be my number one sport. Thank all that is holy that it's not an Olympic event.), and all is well. Sam did great, no swelling, no limping, no need for Bute (horsey tylenol). And I have a nice big elk to put in the freezer and chomp away on during the winter.
Yes, we are a meat loving family. And Brad and Sara both hunt, big game as well as birds. So if hunting offends you, this is not a site you're going to want to bookmark, 'mkay? This is the way this family in Montana lives. I will not post photos of hunted animals here, simply because I don't find them appealing to look at. But I will crow to the rooftops my family's success in the field. Cuz the less money I have to spend at the grocery store, the better. And let's be honest, how many 21 year old girls still want to hang out with their dad, much less go stalking around the woods with them?
It's interesting to note how much money hunters add to a state's economy. Last year alone, in just the state of Montana, hunters contributed nearly $15 million dollars to the state's revenue. This is money that was spent on hunting licenses and tags (money that goes back into the Fish and Game service, which helps many conservation projects, as well as fighting fires, catching poachers, and doing all sorts of good things), hotel rooms, meals, groceries, gas, hunting and camping gear, etc, etc. This does not include fees spent for fishing. That figure is just for hunters. And let's talk about how much money hunters spend each year just on conservation efforts. I don't know a hunter who does not support the Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation, Ducks Unlimited, Pheasants Forever, or some other group who does nothing but wildlife conservation work. Hmm, these folks must be good people.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm not saying all hunters are saints with halos and rifles (or shotguns, or bows). Some of them are stupid idiots, who should not be allowed to play with a nerf gun, much less a real one. But those people represent the very small minority. Unfortunately, they're the ones who get all the press. You don't hear alot about the guy who donates his processed elk to the local food bank, or the neighbor who brings you half a deer because he has plenty, and he knows you could use some extra meat. You don't hear about the guy who tracked an injured white tail deer for three days, and tagged the animal when he found it, even though the weather had turned, and the meat was totally spoiled. He tagged it because he shot it, and claiming it was the right thing to do.
Most hunters are good people who hunt for the love of the wildlife. More times than not, Brad and Sara come home empty handed, and totally exhilerated. Watching two bull elk wrangle about who gets the girls, seeing literally hundreds of ducks get up off a river and fly at the same moment, or just spending the day on horseback, talking, laughing, and reconnecting. We just recently finished building four ponds on the bottom of our property for duck, geese, and pheasants. It's going to be so much fun watching baby ducks and geese learn to paddle around next spring. I will be posting photos of that!
And hunting fills the freezer. Between the elk, the pigs (who have a date with the butcher October 1st, thank all that is holy), and the quarter beef we are buying, we will eat well this winter, and not have to spend a ton of money on overpriced, chemical filled meat at the grocery store. And yes, there will be new pigs in the spring, and perhaps some chickens if we can get a good coop built (living in the country on 40 acres means coyotes and foxes, and hawks, and eagles. They seem to like chicken as much as I do.) And hopefully another beef in the freezer. Brad and I are determined to raise all of our own meat from now on. It just tastes so much better. And then there's the fact that we have 40 acres and five horses. We seem to have a little bit of room.
I was really worried about this trip for a couple of reasons. Number 1, the guys go 24 miles back on horseback. No quick trips out if someone gets hurt, or something happens to one of the ponies. Reason the second, this was our horse Sam's first trip out since seriously injuring his back leg in February. As usual, I worried for no reason (the more you read here, the more you will discover that worry seems to be my number one sport. Thank all that is holy that it's not an Olympic event.), and all is well. Sam did great, no swelling, no limping, no need for Bute (horsey tylenol). And I have a nice big elk to put in the freezer and chomp away on during the winter.
Yes, we are a meat loving family. And Brad and Sara both hunt, big game as well as birds. So if hunting offends you, this is not a site you're going to want to bookmark, 'mkay? This is the way this family in Montana lives. I will not post photos of hunted animals here, simply because I don't find them appealing to look at. But I will crow to the rooftops my family's success in the field. Cuz the less money I have to spend at the grocery store, the better. And let's be honest, how many 21 year old girls still want to hang out with their dad, much less go stalking around the woods with them?
It's interesting to note how much money hunters add to a state's economy. Last year alone, in just the state of Montana, hunters contributed nearly $15 million dollars to the state's revenue. This is money that was spent on hunting licenses and tags (money that goes back into the Fish and Game service, which helps many conservation projects, as well as fighting fires, catching poachers, and doing all sorts of good things), hotel rooms, meals, groceries, gas, hunting and camping gear, etc, etc. This does not include fees spent for fishing. That figure is just for hunters. And let's talk about how much money hunters spend each year just on conservation efforts. I don't know a hunter who does not support the Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation, Ducks Unlimited, Pheasants Forever, or some other group who does nothing but wildlife conservation work. Hmm, these folks must be good people.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm not saying all hunters are saints with halos and rifles (or shotguns, or bows). Some of them are stupid idiots, who should not be allowed to play with a nerf gun, much less a real one. But those people represent the very small minority. Unfortunately, they're the ones who get all the press. You don't hear alot about the guy who donates his processed elk to the local food bank, or the neighbor who brings you half a deer because he has plenty, and he knows you could use some extra meat. You don't hear about the guy who tracked an injured white tail deer for three days, and tagged the animal when he found it, even though the weather had turned, and the meat was totally spoiled. He tagged it because he shot it, and claiming it was the right thing to do.
Most hunters are good people who hunt for the love of the wildlife. More times than not, Brad and Sara come home empty handed, and totally exhilerated. Watching two bull elk wrangle about who gets the girls, seeing literally hundreds of ducks get up off a river and fly at the same moment, or just spending the day on horseback, talking, laughing, and reconnecting. We just recently finished building four ponds on the bottom of our property for duck, geese, and pheasants. It's going to be so much fun watching baby ducks and geese learn to paddle around next spring. I will be posting photos of that!
And hunting fills the freezer. Between the elk, the pigs (who have a date with the butcher October 1st, thank all that is holy), and the quarter beef we are buying, we will eat well this winter, and not have to spend a ton of money on overpriced, chemical filled meat at the grocery store. And yes, there will be new pigs in the spring, and perhaps some chickens if we can get a good coop built (living in the country on 40 acres means coyotes and foxes, and hawks, and eagles. They seem to like chicken as much as I do.) And hopefully another beef in the freezer. Brad and I are determined to raise all of our own meat from now on. It just tastes so much better. And then there's the fact that we have 40 acres and five horses. We seem to have a little bit of room.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Crazy Ride
Well, we discovered the reason for the neighbor's dogs chasing the horses and barking at 3 am the other night. Their beautiful daughter, 16 years old, was in the hospital in labor with her son. Yes, I knew she was pregnant. Mother and child are doing well, home now, grandparents are happy, everyone has had a bit of sleep.
This brings back some memories for me. See, my beautiful daughter Sara was born when I was 17. I remember being the only pregnant girl in my high school. I remember thinking this couldn't be that difficult. Yes, I was that naive. I was on the debate team (boy did that raise some eyebrows in Kansas!), I graduated and got my diploma. I did not go to prom, because diapers were fricking expensive. I was so blessed to be loved and supported by my family. And my awesome boyfriend, Brad, stuck by me 100%. Yes, the same Brad that pulled my smelly dog out of the septic tank Sunday. We made it. 23 years this Sept 28th we've been together.
It was difficult. It's still difficult. Sara is 21 now, and I can't believe we all survived this crazy ride. And we're still on the ride. I'm getting the sneaking suspicion this ride never ends.
Having a child while you are a teenager sucks. I mean, the baby is wonderful. I wouldn't trade Sara for anything in the world. But not being able to do the things other kids my age were doing sucked. No college, no travel, no parties (although, considering how many teenagers die from drug and alcohol overdoses, car accidents, or just general inebriated stupidity, I'm not sure I missed much there). My life revolved around that little person. And you know what? My life still revolves around her. She's in college, but still living at home. And I'm okay with that, but for the love of heaven, I still lay awake waiting for her to come home. And I still have to remind her to pick up her shoes, socks, books, etc etc etc.
My heart goes out to my neighbor's daughter. I know exactly how she's feeling right now. She's excited, overjoyed, and scared out of her freaking mind. She has the support of her family. But the father?? Can't be bothered. Yes, I have hugged my husband repeatedly. I got lucky, and I know it. And I've been hugging that teenager still hiding in me, wondering if her life will ever be the same again. No, it's never been the same. It's been better, an exciting ride that takes my breath away with joy, terror, frustration, silliness, and pride. I'm glad I got on the ride, I just wish I'd waited in line a little longer.
So for any teenagers out there thinking pregnancy won't happen to you? Yes, it sure as hell will. And to the parents who think their child isn't out having sex (unprotected or otherwise)? Talk to your kids. Be honest, even thought it's embarrassing. Sara and I have always had an open dialogue about sex and protecting herself. I've offered to buy condoms, drive her to the clinic to get on the pill, whatever she wants. Because let's face it, the worst thing that can happen to a kid having sex? Not getting pregnant, or getting someone pregnant. The worst thing that can happen to your child is contracting an incurable disease. Dying, because their hormones had them acting like bunnies. Take it from a teenage mother who was too embarrassed to talk to her mom, and who's mom was too embarrassed (and thinking her daughter wouldn't have sex) to talk to her. I got so lucky, healthy baby, amazing husband. But too many kids didn't get that lucky, and won't. All because society thinks if we just bury our heads in the sand, the problem won't happen, or will just go away. I'm living proof, and so is my neighbor's daughter, that it just keeps happening.
This brings back some memories for me. See, my beautiful daughter Sara was born when I was 17. I remember being the only pregnant girl in my high school. I remember thinking this couldn't be that difficult. Yes, I was that naive. I was on the debate team (boy did that raise some eyebrows in Kansas!), I graduated and got my diploma. I did not go to prom, because diapers were fricking expensive. I was so blessed to be loved and supported by my family. And my awesome boyfriend, Brad, stuck by me 100%. Yes, the same Brad that pulled my smelly dog out of the septic tank Sunday. We made it. 23 years this Sept 28th we've been together.
It was difficult. It's still difficult. Sara is 21 now, and I can't believe we all survived this crazy ride. And we're still on the ride. I'm getting the sneaking suspicion this ride never ends.
Having a child while you are a teenager sucks. I mean, the baby is wonderful. I wouldn't trade Sara for anything in the world. But not being able to do the things other kids my age were doing sucked. No college, no travel, no parties (although, considering how many teenagers die from drug and alcohol overdoses, car accidents, or just general inebriated stupidity, I'm not sure I missed much there). My life revolved around that little person. And you know what? My life still revolves around her. She's in college, but still living at home. And I'm okay with that, but for the love of heaven, I still lay awake waiting for her to come home. And I still have to remind her to pick up her shoes, socks, books, etc etc etc.
My heart goes out to my neighbor's daughter. I know exactly how she's feeling right now. She's excited, overjoyed, and scared out of her freaking mind. She has the support of her family. But the father?? Can't be bothered. Yes, I have hugged my husband repeatedly. I got lucky, and I know it. And I've been hugging that teenager still hiding in me, wondering if her life will ever be the same again. No, it's never been the same. It's been better, an exciting ride that takes my breath away with joy, terror, frustration, silliness, and pride. I'm glad I got on the ride, I just wish I'd waited in line a little longer.
So for any teenagers out there thinking pregnancy won't happen to you? Yes, it sure as hell will. And to the parents who think their child isn't out having sex (unprotected or otherwise)? Talk to your kids. Be honest, even thought it's embarrassing. Sara and I have always had an open dialogue about sex and protecting herself. I've offered to buy condoms, drive her to the clinic to get on the pill, whatever she wants. Because let's face it, the worst thing that can happen to a kid having sex? Not getting pregnant, or getting someone pregnant. The worst thing that can happen to your child is contracting an incurable disease. Dying, because their hormones had them acting like bunnies. Take it from a teenage mother who was too embarrassed to talk to her mom, and who's mom was too embarrassed (and thinking her daughter wouldn't have sex) to talk to her. I got so lucky, healthy baby, amazing husband. But too many kids didn't get that lucky, and won't. All because society thinks if we just bury our heads in the sand, the problem won't happen, or will just go away. I'm living proof, and so is my neighbor's daughter, that it just keeps happening.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Oh Shit
The title pretty much sums up my weekend. There was animal related drama all the time. From escaping cows (yes, I have cows now. Pregnant cows even. Pray for them, cuz if they get out again, they are going to the butcher), to barn cats in the house, on the kitchen counter, to the neighbors eighty bazillion dogs (no, I'm not exaggerating) barking at 3 am right outside my bedroom while chasing the neighbors thirty bazillion horses, who are very loud running at 3 am.
But the worst animal drama involved my beloved Penny. She's fine now, but I have several more grey hairs than I had yesterday morning. Brad was working on our septic system, replacing a pipe that had broken. He'd had the ditch open all weekend. When we came home from Missoula to find Prim the barn cat on the kitchen counter, we decided that closing her entry point (the window the swamp cooler sits in) was a good idea.
So Brad is emptying the swamp cooler, and I'm goofing around with the dogs, looking at my sunflower garden, and just putzing. I hear splashing. We do not have a pool. Keon is right behind me, so I start looking for Penny, because normally she does not like to get in the water, much less splash as energetically as I was hearing. Plus, there is no standing water for her to get into. I head over to the ditch Brad has open, thinking maybe she is goofing in the sewer water. No Penny. It's then that I realize not only has Brad opened a ditch, HE'S TAKEN THE COVER OFF THE SEPTIC TANK, AND PENNY HAS FALLEN IN!!!!!!!
My heart stopped. All I could do was fall to my knees and scream for Brad. Thank all that is holy that Penny had gotten one leg caught on a wire, and had not fallen all the way in the septic tank. She's looking at me with her big brown eyes, and I'm freaking out. Then Brad was there, grabbed her leg, and hauled her out. She was smelly (oh heavens, she was rank!), but unhurt.
All I could do was put my head on the ground and try to breath. Brad wasn't in much better shape, the poor man was white as a ghost. The cover immediately went back on the septic tank, and Penny went in the house for two very thorough baths. She smells like flowers now, thank you very much.
I love Penny dog more than is natural. I saved her from a hellish start in her life, rescued her from an abusive situation (verbal as well as physical. I hates people.), and she has repaid me a thousand times over with unconditional, unwavering love. She is my shadow, my velcro dog. She sleeps with me when Brad is not home, and cuddles with me on the couch when I'm watching TV. Her warm weight beside me is better than any sedative known to womankind. The only time I am not foremost in her heart is when it is bird season. And, as she is after all a bird dog, I do not begrudge being second in her heart three months out of the year. This was not Penny's first brush with disaster. She has been stitched up by my next door neighbor (a surgical nurse), our vet, and even Brad. She was lost for two days when a thunderstorm scared the holy crap out of her. I was out of my mind for those two days. The joy and relief I felt when she found her way home was unbelievable. Penny also has epilepsy, although we have been fortunate to be able to control her seizures with diet, rather than put her on medication.
I'm glad the weekend is over. I'm so glad my girl is safe and sound. And you can bet your bippy that Brad will be making sure the septic tank cover is ALWAYS on. We do learn from our close calls. Go hug your dog, cat, hamster, or whoever makes your life more bearable. Shit happens fast.
But the worst animal drama involved my beloved Penny. She's fine now, but I have several more grey hairs than I had yesterday morning. Brad was working on our septic system, replacing a pipe that had broken. He'd had the ditch open all weekend. When we came home from Missoula to find Prim the barn cat on the kitchen counter, we decided that closing her entry point (the window the swamp cooler sits in) was a good idea.
So Brad is emptying the swamp cooler, and I'm goofing around with the dogs, looking at my sunflower garden, and just putzing. I hear splashing. We do not have a pool. Keon is right behind me, so I start looking for Penny, because normally she does not like to get in the water, much less splash as energetically as I was hearing. Plus, there is no standing water for her to get into. I head over to the ditch Brad has open, thinking maybe she is goofing in the sewer water. No Penny. It's then that I realize not only has Brad opened a ditch, HE'S TAKEN THE COVER OFF THE SEPTIC TANK, AND PENNY HAS FALLEN IN!!!!!!!
My heart stopped. All I could do was fall to my knees and scream for Brad. Thank all that is holy that Penny had gotten one leg caught on a wire, and had not fallen all the way in the septic tank. She's looking at me with her big brown eyes, and I'm freaking out. Then Brad was there, grabbed her leg, and hauled her out. She was smelly (oh heavens, she was rank!), but unhurt.
All I could do was put my head on the ground and try to breath. Brad wasn't in much better shape, the poor man was white as a ghost. The cover immediately went back on the septic tank, and Penny went in the house for two very thorough baths. She smells like flowers now, thank you very much.
I love Penny dog more than is natural. I saved her from a hellish start in her life, rescued her from an abusive situation (verbal as well as physical. I hates people.), and she has repaid me a thousand times over with unconditional, unwavering love. She is my shadow, my velcro dog. She sleeps with me when Brad is not home, and cuddles with me on the couch when I'm watching TV. Her warm weight beside me is better than any sedative known to womankind. The only time I am not foremost in her heart is when it is bird season. And, as she is after all a bird dog, I do not begrudge being second in her heart three months out of the year. This was not Penny's first brush with disaster. She has been stitched up by my next door neighbor (a surgical nurse), our vet, and even Brad. She was lost for two days when a thunderstorm scared the holy crap out of her. I was out of my mind for those two days. The joy and relief I felt when she found her way home was unbelievable. Penny also has epilepsy, although we have been fortunate to be able to control her seizures with diet, rather than put her on medication.
I'm glad the weekend is over. I'm so glad my girl is safe and sound. And you can bet your bippy that Brad will be making sure the septic tank cover is ALWAYS on. We do learn from our close calls. Go hug your dog, cat, hamster, or whoever makes your life more bearable. Shit happens fast.
Monday, August 25, 2008
I slept
Good news, the microwave survived the weekend intact. Sleep was had, laundry was washed, folded, put away, the bathroom was sort of cleaned, and some progress was made on quilt instructions.
That's about it. I guess a quiet boring Sunday at home was my due. The dogs and Bast played outside most of the morning, I got caught up on my Project Runway viewing, and was able to find clean clothes to wear to work this morning. It's the little things, right?
That's about it. I guess a quiet boring Sunday at home was my due. The dogs and Bast played outside most of the morning, I got caught up on my Project Runway viewing, and was able to find clean clothes to wear to work this morning. It's the little things, right?
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Things that go snore in the night
Late night sleeping has been interrrupted the last two nights at my house. I love, love, love my sleep. I consider napping an art form (even though I am a crappy nap artist), and I aspire to sleep as late in the mornings as possible. The women I work with try not to call my house before 11 am, and even then they think twice. Now that we have that background out of the way, let's discuss the events of the last two nights.
Thursday night, Brad and I are trying to sleep, when we hear an unusual noise. We can't identify where it is coming from, and it stops pretty quickly. We chalk it up to some unkown critter outside, and head off to Sandman Land. Until 1:30 am. The mystery noise is back, very loud, and seems to be coming from my dresser. Have you every heard a moose call? That's what it sounded like...coming from under my dresser. Now, I like moose. But I don't want to meet the one that can make that loud of a noise while stuffed under a cherry dresser. And then I thought...where's Bast? So I call my petite little kitty's name...and she meows at me from under the dresser. The horrible, scary noise? Is my cat snoring!!!!
I've never heard a cat snore before. It's not pretty, trust me. And then she wants to play, and be petted, and purr louder than a Mack truck. It was a while before I fell back asleep, let's just say that, ok? And then I had to get up at the ungodly hour of 6 am, because Brad and I are carpooling whenever possible. It's worked well, we've saved almost $120 in gas the last two weeks, but it's hell on me. Remember, I like my sleep.
So Friday night, I'm ready for bed. At like 8 pm. I've had a lovely dinner of chicken breast, rice, black beans and sour cream wrapped up in a flour tortilla. I've finished knitting my second ever mitten, and it is the same size as the first one. And they both fit my hands. In other words, it's been a good evening, and I'm ready for a date with Vin Diesel in dreamland. I manage to stay awake until 9:30. And then Brad and I toddle off to bed, to sleep the sleep of the just, wrapped in two quilts, with the window open, and the fan blowing. I'm only 39, but occassionally I experience a personal warming trend, and I like to be cold when I sleep, to better enable the cuddling under quilts thing.
All is well until 2:30 am, when I am awakened by someone knocking on my front door. Now, we live in the country. When someone is knocking on your door after dark, it's not a good thing. At 2:30 am, it's very bad. So I did what every self-respecting country wife does. I woke up my husband to tell him someone is knocking on the door at 2:30 am. He laid there for a minute, and said, "That's the fan." I got up and turned off the fan in our window. Still knocking noises. He then informs me it's the fan in the living room, rolls over, goes back to sleep. I consider pulling the quilts off of him. I walk into the living room, and low and behold, it is the fan making that noise. I turn it off, go back to bed. Realize when I cuddle up to sleeping, unconcerned-about-ax-murderers husband, that if I don't turn the fan in our window back on, I'm going to melt in about 10 seconds. Turn fan back on, get back in bed, settle in, ready to resume my date with Mr. Diesel. Then Bast decides it's time for a cuddle and purr session. Have I mentioned she is LOUD! At least I got to sleep in until 7 am this morning.
Tomorrow is Sunday, and I do not have to leave my house. I will be sleeping as late as destiny and a 3 month old puppy will let me. And then I will be cleaning my bathroom, catching up on laundry (which seems to mean making sure it all gets folded and put away. Who knew?), and working on the instructions on my latest mystery quilt for the shop retreat this fall. I hope that nothing else in my house decides to make mystery noises tonight. Three nights in a row would be too much. And I own guns. I'd hate to have to shoot the microwave.
Thursday night, Brad and I are trying to sleep, when we hear an unusual noise. We can't identify where it is coming from, and it stops pretty quickly. We chalk it up to some unkown critter outside, and head off to Sandman Land. Until 1:30 am. The mystery noise is back, very loud, and seems to be coming from my dresser. Have you every heard a moose call? That's what it sounded like...coming from under my dresser. Now, I like moose. But I don't want to meet the one that can make that loud of a noise while stuffed under a cherry dresser. And then I thought...where's Bast? So I call my petite little kitty's name...and she meows at me from under the dresser. The horrible, scary noise? Is my cat snoring!!!!
I've never heard a cat snore before. It's not pretty, trust me. And then she wants to play, and be petted, and purr louder than a Mack truck. It was a while before I fell back asleep, let's just say that, ok? And then I had to get up at the ungodly hour of 6 am, because Brad and I are carpooling whenever possible. It's worked well, we've saved almost $120 in gas the last two weeks, but it's hell on me. Remember, I like my sleep.
So Friday night, I'm ready for bed. At like 8 pm. I've had a lovely dinner of chicken breast, rice, black beans and sour cream wrapped up in a flour tortilla. I've finished knitting my second ever mitten, and it is the same size as the first one. And they both fit my hands. In other words, it's been a good evening, and I'm ready for a date with Vin Diesel in dreamland. I manage to stay awake until 9:30. And then Brad and I toddle off to bed, to sleep the sleep of the just, wrapped in two quilts, with the window open, and the fan blowing. I'm only 39, but occassionally I experience a personal warming trend, and I like to be cold when I sleep, to better enable the cuddling under quilts thing.
All is well until 2:30 am, when I am awakened by someone knocking on my front door. Now, we live in the country. When someone is knocking on your door after dark, it's not a good thing. At 2:30 am, it's very bad. So I did what every self-respecting country wife does. I woke up my husband to tell him someone is knocking on the door at 2:30 am. He laid there for a minute, and said, "That's the fan." I got up and turned off the fan in our window. Still knocking noises. He then informs me it's the fan in the living room, rolls over, goes back to sleep. I consider pulling the quilts off of him. I walk into the living room, and low and behold, it is the fan making that noise. I turn it off, go back to bed. Realize when I cuddle up to sleeping, unconcerned-about-ax-murderers husband, that if I don't turn the fan in our window back on, I'm going to melt in about 10 seconds. Turn fan back on, get back in bed, settle in, ready to resume my date with Mr. Diesel. Then Bast decides it's time for a cuddle and purr session. Have I mentioned she is LOUD! At least I got to sleep in until 7 am this morning.
Tomorrow is Sunday, and I do not have to leave my house. I will be sleeping as late as destiny and a 3 month old puppy will let me. And then I will be cleaning my bathroom, catching up on laundry (which seems to mean making sure it all gets folded and put away. Who knew?), and working on the instructions on my latest mystery quilt for the shop retreat this fall. I hope that nothing else in my house decides to make mystery noises tonight. Three nights in a row would be too much. And I own guns. I'd hate to have to shoot the microwave.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
I'm still here, sort of
Well, that month went to hell fast. I keep wanting to post, but thinking I need to have photos, and my camera and I are never in the same place at the same time. Perhaps this will not be a photo heavy blog for a while.
I've been busy as anything, and doing the avoidance dance as well. I'll be honest, things have not been ducky at my house lately. Money is tight (read nonexistant), bill collectors are calling, my daughter got a new job, new car, my husband got a new truck (really, it was an amazing deal, and will save us money in the long run, mostly in fuel costs), hubby and I haven't been communicating about ANYTHING because neither has wanted to upset the other.....and the list goes on.
When I am upset, I get very turtle like. I withdraw, don't write, don't take care of myself, my house, I just try to hide as much as possible. And the more I hide, the worse the depression gets, because I feel so alone. And so I hide more. See the problem here?
I'm not saying things are miraculously better. Most things still suck. But last weekend Brad and I ran away from home for a couple of days. And talked. And cried. And talked some more. And suddenly, I remember why I love him so much, and how the two of us can get through anything, as long as we are together. Side by side, that's how we get through life. And that's how we will get through the current insanity.
On a happier note, the animals are doing fabulous. The puppy's name is Keon (it's Irish, means young warrior), and he has settled in like an old pro. We are having so much fun with him, and his sweet little personality. He's the happiest damn dog at 5 am I've every seen. Penny and Bast have become best buddies, so much so that I think I got Penny a cat, not myself! LOL Bast sleeps with Penny, and wars with Keon. And yells at me when her food bowl is empty!
I have an amazing life, I've just forgotten that in all the drama that comes with adulthood and bills. And I've avoided everything, including this blog, which is supposed to help me stay a little saner. So, I'm back, starting fresh. Perhaps even someday with pictures!
I've been busy as anything, and doing the avoidance dance as well. I'll be honest, things have not been ducky at my house lately. Money is tight (read nonexistant), bill collectors are calling, my daughter got a new job, new car, my husband got a new truck (really, it was an amazing deal, and will save us money in the long run, mostly in fuel costs), hubby and I haven't been communicating about ANYTHING because neither has wanted to upset the other.....and the list goes on.
When I am upset, I get very turtle like. I withdraw, don't write, don't take care of myself, my house, I just try to hide as much as possible. And the more I hide, the worse the depression gets, because I feel so alone. And so I hide more. See the problem here?
I'm not saying things are miraculously better. Most things still suck. But last weekend Brad and I ran away from home for a couple of days. And talked. And cried. And talked some more. And suddenly, I remember why I love him so much, and how the two of us can get through anything, as long as we are together. Side by side, that's how we get through life. And that's how we will get through the current insanity.
On a happier note, the animals are doing fabulous. The puppy's name is Keon (it's Irish, means young warrior), and he has settled in like an old pro. We are having so much fun with him, and his sweet little personality. He's the happiest damn dog at 5 am I've every seen. Penny and Bast have become best buddies, so much so that I think I got Penny a cat, not myself! LOL Bast sleeps with Penny, and wars with Keon. And yells at me when her food bowl is empty!
I have an amazing life, I've just forgotten that in all the drama that comes with adulthood and bills. And I've avoided everything, including this blog, which is supposed to help me stay a little saner. So, I'm back, starting fresh. Perhaps even someday with pictures!
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Animals Own My Home
I've been thinking about posts, but always when I'm at work and the camera and photos are at home. Guess what, I'm at work! Perhaps some pics this weekend when the NEW PUPPY comes home!!!!!!
Yes, we are just a wee bit excited. My co-workers are ready to kill me if I so much begin a word with the letter P. Well, maybe just bludgeon slightly...
Bast the new kitten is a holy terror. And totally adorable, which is her saving grace. Last night I had been scratched one too many times, so out came the clippers. I was shocked to see that her nails have started to hook down already, so it was time for her first trim. Brad had to hold her for me, and it took no time at all to get those needles taken care of. She was not amused. And then she tried to jump up on the arm of the couch, which requires claws to hold onto the couch while she finishes boosting herself up. She just hung there for a minute, and then slowly slide off. It was hysterically funny. But look ma, no new scratches today! Yeah!
Penny the Viszla deserves the Noble Peace prize, I'm telling you. She should be snapping at Bast every time the kitten comes near her. But Penny is trying to get along, and has gotten good at hiding. Poor girl, she's going to have a nervous breakdown when the puppy comes home. Did I mention that will be Saturday??? LOL
The pigs are growing nicely, and will look very good in the freezer this fall. Right now, they are muddy and smelly. I just keep reminding myself how nice it will be to have a freezer full of pork. Reminding myself lots, to tell you the truth.
The horses are all fat and happy. Sam's leg, which was injured pretty badly in February, is totally healed, and he's galloping and trotting on it. We are so thankful for a great vet. Brad would have been lost this hunting season without one of his two main guys.
Sorry, no deep thoughts today. My mind is totally full of thoughts of impending puppy invasion. I may be able to think coherently after the weekend, but I'm doubting it. I'll probably be sleep deprived at that point.
Yes, we are just a wee bit excited. My co-workers are ready to kill me if I so much begin a word with the letter P. Well, maybe just bludgeon slightly...
Bast the new kitten is a holy terror. And totally adorable, which is her saving grace. Last night I had been scratched one too many times, so out came the clippers. I was shocked to see that her nails have started to hook down already, so it was time for her first trim. Brad had to hold her for me, and it took no time at all to get those needles taken care of. She was not amused. And then she tried to jump up on the arm of the couch, which requires claws to hold onto the couch while she finishes boosting herself up. She just hung there for a minute, and then slowly slide off. It was hysterically funny. But look ma, no new scratches today! Yeah!
Penny the Viszla deserves the Noble Peace prize, I'm telling you. She should be snapping at Bast every time the kitten comes near her. But Penny is trying to get along, and has gotten good at hiding. Poor girl, she's going to have a nervous breakdown when the puppy comes home. Did I mention that will be Saturday??? LOL
The pigs are growing nicely, and will look very good in the freezer this fall. Right now, they are muddy and smelly. I just keep reminding myself how nice it will be to have a freezer full of pork. Reminding myself lots, to tell you the truth.
The horses are all fat and happy. Sam's leg, which was injured pretty badly in February, is totally healed, and he's galloping and trotting on it. We are so thankful for a great vet. Brad would have been lost this hunting season without one of his two main guys.
Sorry, no deep thoughts today. My mind is totally full of thoughts of impending puppy invasion. I may be able to think coherently after the weekend, but I'm doubting it. I'll probably be sleep deprived at that point.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Different is the new Beautiful
I've been reading blogs for about 1 1/2 or so now. Two of my favorites are the Yarn Harlot, and The Panopticon, and todays entries struck a cord. A HUGE freaking cord.
All my life, I've felt like the odd girl out. I've never been stunningly beautiful, wildly popular, or anything but a geek. My shining moment in Junior High/High School was at 8th grade graduation. I'd been taking sewing classes since the 6th grade, and conned my Home Ec teacher into letting me make my graduation dress. This was when the Gunny Sack dresses were popular. There was no way on earth my parents could afford to buy me one of those dresses. So I marched my little self down to the only fabric store in Jackson, Wyo, bought the pattern, fabric, and more fricking lace than one planet should contain, much less one dress. It was light purple, and I felt like a princess in it. I won an award for sewing, and my teacher announced to the whole school/parent/teacher consortium that I had made my dress. I was in seventh heaven. After the ceremony, one of the popular girls who had made it her goal in life to make my life hell, came up to me to tell me how beautiful she thought my dress was. AND SHE MEANT IT!!!! Seven years of torment, and that is the only time I ever felt included.
I still feel like the odd duck. But I've gotten better at faking not being the odd duck. On the inside though, baby I'm cowering in a corner. The only time I don't feel that way is when I'm creating something. Cooking, knitting, quilting, sewing, teaching a class at the quilt store I work at. And I'm tired of being patted on the head, and told that is so cute, or quaint. This is my damn ART, not a piece of crap. This is what keeps me from becoming a clocktower sniper!! What I contribute is meaningful, and just as important as the Hail Mary pass in the Super Bowl, or the game winning Home Run.
I take compliments these days, and I take them well. I've discovered the world has more geeks in it than beautiful people. And I'm not letting that little bitch from Junior High ruin my life any more. I make art, whether it is a beautiful dinner for my family, a pair of socks for a friend, or a baby quilt for the newest addition. And if you can't handle that? Don't patronize me. What have you done meaningful with your life lately?
All my life, I've felt like the odd girl out. I've never been stunningly beautiful, wildly popular, or anything but a geek. My shining moment in Junior High/High School was at 8th grade graduation. I'd been taking sewing classes since the 6th grade, and conned my Home Ec teacher into letting me make my graduation dress. This was when the Gunny Sack dresses were popular. There was no way on earth my parents could afford to buy me one of those dresses. So I marched my little self down to the only fabric store in Jackson, Wyo, bought the pattern, fabric, and more fricking lace than one planet should contain, much less one dress. It was light purple, and I felt like a princess in it. I won an award for sewing, and my teacher announced to the whole school/parent/teacher consortium that I had made my dress. I was in seventh heaven. After the ceremony, one of the popular girls who had made it her goal in life to make my life hell, came up to me to tell me how beautiful she thought my dress was. AND SHE MEANT IT!!!! Seven years of torment, and that is the only time I ever felt included.
I still feel like the odd duck. But I've gotten better at faking not being the odd duck. On the inside though, baby I'm cowering in a corner. The only time I don't feel that way is when I'm creating something. Cooking, knitting, quilting, sewing, teaching a class at the quilt store I work at. And I'm tired of being patted on the head, and told that is so cute, or quaint. This is my damn ART, not a piece of crap. This is what keeps me from becoming a clocktower sniper!! What I contribute is meaningful, and just as important as the Hail Mary pass in the Super Bowl, or the game winning Home Run.
I take compliments these days, and I take them well. I've discovered the world has more geeks in it than beautiful people. And I'm not letting that little bitch from Junior High ruin my life any more. I make art, whether it is a beautiful dinner for my family, a pair of socks for a friend, or a baby quilt for the newest addition. And if you can't handle that? Don't patronize me. What have you done meaningful with your life lately?
Monday, June 16, 2008
Bittersweet
Time is a slippery little bugger. I've been thinking about posting, but that's all the further it's gotten. Guess it's a good thing this blog is still in its infancy, and no one is reading it yet!
Life has been slightly bittersweet at my house. In September of 2007, we had to put our house cat, Jubilee, to sleep. She was 18, and spent 16 1/2 years with us. She hated dogs, other cats, horses, and was a menace to the squirrel population. The only beings she liked were people. She terrified the dogs, to the point that my husband's Lab, Zeus, would come looking for a bodyguard when he needed to go in a room Jubilee was in. Now, she weighed about 80 pounds soaking wet, and he weighed 100. Go figure.
Her kidneys failed, and we had to face the inevitable decision that it was kinder to let her go. And then the double whammy came. In October, we had to face the same decision with Zeus. He was 12, and healthy as a horse, except for his kidneys and liver. I took him to the vet, and while it tore out my heart, it was the gentlest way to go, for both of them. Zeus hadn't been eating, sleeping, and was trying to head off on his own to die. When the vet gave him the first sedative, he finally slept comfortably for the first time in days. Hearing him snore one last time was quite lovely actually. They both went to sleep quietly and quickly, and I wish we could be so humane to people.
It's been a long time of healing for us. These were the first animals my husband or I had ever had for this length of time, and my daughter barely remembers a time without Jubilee or Zeus. They are buried on the property, and are thought of daily. It's not unusual for one of us to break into tears, but we know that's part of life. Even knowing how it all ended, I'd do it again in a heartbeat.
And now is the time for moving on. Sharing our home with some more beloved furry babies. The barn cat, Prim, had a litter of 3 kittens on May 1st (also my Vizsla Penny's birthday). There were two boys who have gone to good homes next door, and one lovely black little girl, who has moved into my heart. Her name is Bast. (Yes, after the Egyptian goddess. She is fearless.) She picked me when she was one day old, and hissed at me with all the fury her little body could muster. She's been in the house for two days now, and we are getting along wonderfully. Penny is a little leery, but after living with the terror of Jubilee for so long, I'm not surprised. She's adjusting well, but not too happy about living with this little interloper!
And in a few weeks, we will have a Lab puppy as well. Long story short, we rescued a very nice Chocolate Lab, Prince, from certain death a few months ago. We were able to reunite him with his owner, and his lovely Yellow girlfriend, Montana. Montana had a lovely litter of puppies, 3 Black, and 4 Yellow. One of them is coming home to live with us. Yeah!!!
I know there will be sadness as well as joy. We will always miss Jubilee and Zeus. But it's time for some new footsteps around the house. Don't worry, there will be photos. Probably more than you will ever want to see!
Life has been slightly bittersweet at my house. In September of 2007, we had to put our house cat, Jubilee, to sleep. She was 18, and spent 16 1/2 years with us. She hated dogs, other cats, horses, and was a menace to the squirrel population. The only beings she liked were people. She terrified the dogs, to the point that my husband's Lab, Zeus, would come looking for a bodyguard when he needed to go in a room Jubilee was in. Now, she weighed about 80 pounds soaking wet, and he weighed 100. Go figure.
Her kidneys failed, and we had to face the inevitable decision that it was kinder to let her go. And then the double whammy came. In October, we had to face the same decision with Zeus. He was 12, and healthy as a horse, except for his kidneys and liver. I took him to the vet, and while it tore out my heart, it was the gentlest way to go, for both of them. Zeus hadn't been eating, sleeping, and was trying to head off on his own to die. When the vet gave him the first sedative, he finally slept comfortably for the first time in days. Hearing him snore one last time was quite lovely actually. They both went to sleep quietly and quickly, and I wish we could be so humane to people.
It's been a long time of healing for us. These were the first animals my husband or I had ever had for this length of time, and my daughter barely remembers a time without Jubilee or Zeus. They are buried on the property, and are thought of daily. It's not unusual for one of us to break into tears, but we know that's part of life. Even knowing how it all ended, I'd do it again in a heartbeat.
And now is the time for moving on. Sharing our home with some more beloved furry babies. The barn cat, Prim, had a litter of 3 kittens on May 1st (also my Vizsla Penny's birthday). There were two boys who have gone to good homes next door, and one lovely black little girl, who has moved into my heart. Her name is Bast. (Yes, after the Egyptian goddess. She is fearless.) She picked me when she was one day old, and hissed at me with all the fury her little body could muster. She's been in the house for two days now, and we are getting along wonderfully. Penny is a little leery, but after living with the terror of Jubilee for so long, I'm not surprised. She's adjusting well, but not too happy about living with this little interloper!
And in a few weeks, we will have a Lab puppy as well. Long story short, we rescued a very nice Chocolate Lab, Prince, from certain death a few months ago. We were able to reunite him with his owner, and his lovely Yellow girlfriend, Montana. Montana had a lovely litter of puppies, 3 Black, and 4 Yellow. One of them is coming home to live with us. Yeah!!!
I know there will be sadness as well as joy. We will always miss Jubilee and Zeus. But it's time for some new footsteps around the house. Don't worry, there will be photos. Probably more than you will ever want to see!
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Here I Am
For better or worse, thus begins my blogging adventure! Corny I know, but there is a bit of drama queen in me.
I set up this blog quite a while ago, but delayed writing a first entry because I wanted to say the right thing, in the right way, and be brilliantly funny. Hate to say it, but I'm not brilliantly funny. That's my brother. But I am a good writer, and I do want to work on my skills, so here goes the blogging thing.
My life is pretty ordinary, calm, kinda boring, and that's just the way I like it. The latest excitement? We just brought home three piglets to raise for the freezer. Honestly, I love to eat pork, but the actual pig kinda freaks me out. My husband says it's the beady eyes. I think he's right. But, I'll put up with the beady eyes for a full freezer this fall. Only two of the pigs are for us, the other one is for my husband's brother and his family. Their names are Bacon, Pork Chop, and Sausage. I'll post pics of their progress.
Other details? I'm 38, married to the best man on the planet for 18 years, been together for 23. We have a 21 year old daughter who is in college, and not making us grandparents any time soon, thank mercy. I live on 40 acres in Northwestern Montana. Were it not for my husband, I would probably be living in a large city somewhere. Seattle, London, New York, etc. I love my home, but I was born a city girl. However, it's difficult to beat this view from your front door. No I'm not kidding!
I love to quilt, and knit. Okay, it's fair to say I'm a bit obsessed with both. But hey, I don't smoke, drink, or do drugs. I manage a quilt store in the small town about 27 miles from my house. Can you say Dream Job? I even manage to bring home most of my paycheck! We have five horse, one dog at the moment, although we're hoping to have a puppy by the middle of August. Maybe two. Four barn cats, and one house cat who is just a little over 10 days old at this point, so still living with Mama in the shop. More on all the critters at a later date.
Not sure if anyone will ever read this post, but for better or worse, I'm here.
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