Kat In Montana

Farming as Therapy

2010-04-14T19:38:00.000-07:00

Yes, don't fall over, I'm back. Where was I?

Life is good. Life is still hard, full of more bills than money, my father has breast cancer, Brad is hardly ever home, but life is good. All the animals have come through the winter well and in good health, Brad's travels are safe, and more work is pouring in, my job is going well, and spring is here.

The animals have been making conversations moodle around in my head lately. When people find out I have 40 acres, dogs, cats, horses, cows, and chickens, they are astonished. How can you work full time, take care of all those animals, and have time for anything else? And I'm astonished that they think is is so difficult. But it has become commonplace for me. It takes less than an hour a day to take care of all my critters. More if I have to clean the chicken coop, but really, the animals take far less time than laundry does!

And I certainly enjoy it more than doing laundry! The horses nicker when I go outside, the cats all come running to see me, the chickens talk a little louder, and of course the dogs are always happy to see me. The cows are over at the neighbors, and we have agreed to nod politely to each other across the pasture. It's better that way.

If anyone had told me five years ago that I would keep chickens, and still get a thrill everytime I find an egg in the nesting boxes, I would have told them they were out of their minds. And the fact that I have a garden, and actually have grown things, made my own tomato sauce???? I killed an air fern people. But more and more people all over this country are getting into farming, raising their own meat and produce. It's a pheonomenon that is sweeping our culture, and I'm fascinated by it.

It's not that farming, or ranching, or whatever you want to call it is inherently noble or romantic. Shovel out a really dirty chicken coop, and see how much romance you feel. But there is great satisfaction in cooking with produce you just picked from your backyard, making bread with honey from your boss's ranch, and eggs from your hens. Grilling a steak from a beef you raised, knowing no hormones were given to the animal. Hens clucking contentedly while searching for the juciest bugs, horses munching on fresh pasture, barn cats keeping the mouse population under control while checking in for head pats. It's dirty, it's smelly, it's hard work, and I love all of it. I feel more connected to my life. I can get out of my head.

I think, and this is only based on my experience, that this is the real reason why people are so taken with getting back to the basics of life. We have all gotten so disconnected from our own selves, our own emotions, that it takes weeding a garden, collecting eggs, caring for another creature, to allow us to feel again. To take some physical satisfaction from something tangible, real, and self-nurturing. Technology is fabulous, but I really believe caring for all my critters helps me care for myself.

Tylenol Baby

2009-12-26T11:20:00.000-08:00

Went to bed last night with a headache, and woke up with the new, improved version!! Almost migraine, not quite. So, after I nibbled a bit of breakfast, two Tylenol were in order. Almost migraine is gone people. I heart Tylenol.

Also, having eaten two very large holiday meals two days in a row, I'm so looking forward to my small turkey sandwich for lunch today. I don't think I'll be doing much cooking for the next few days. Hell, breathing was a problem last night!

All Will Be Well

2009-12-25T14:07:00.000-08:00

Positive thinking is not making things easier, or better. Some days it's been a struggle to come up with one positive thing. I had a huge meltdown last weekend, and while I needed it, crying for two days is not fun people. My nose rivaled Rudolph.

But I am determined to keep my head down and get through this patch of life. I have a husband who would walk over glass, through volcanoes, whatever it takes to be with me. I feel the same about him. I have a healthy daughter who, while making some choices that leave me banging my head against the wall, is making her own way through life, and I am proud of her for that. I have a safe, warm home that I share with the aforementioned husband, and some critters who are good for some laughs, and if all else fails, very good for snuggling with when meltdowns occur.

I have food in the pantry, chocolate covered peanut butter balls in the freezer (sweet mercy, I love my mother-in-law), yarn and fabric in the sewing studio. Family and friends all over the country who love me. And I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that they all love me.

So I'm gritting my teeth, marching forward, looking for at least one positive thing a day. And my mantra for 2010 will be "All will be well, all will be well, all manner of things will be well." It's a lovely quote, and I have no idea who said it, but they are my positive thing for today.

If you are reading this? I love you. Just the way you are. Thanks for being part of my life. The good part!

Ho Ho Ho Dammit

2009-12-11T14:58:00.000-08:00

Life has been - well kinda tough lately. Money is in very short supply, and it looks like Christmas will be a skimpy affair at my house this year. Now, I'm not looking for sympathy here. Lots of people are in much worse shape than my family. Much worse. I just need to get some things off my chest so I can get on with my New Year resolutions. Yes, New Year resolutions, before Christmas. I'm trying out a new approach here people.

Bitching, moaning, and whining about the lack of money does not, for some crazy reason, make more of it appear. I know, you'd think it would just be rolling in, huh? So, I decided this morning to try a different approach. I'm going to start picking one thing to be thankful for everyday. Through gritted teeth if necessary. Life isn't getting any better with whining, it's only getting more depressing.

So for 2010, I'm going to spend each day being thankful for something. It's going to be hard at first, because whining is much easier. But I hope by the end of the year, thankfulness will come easily to me, and life will be a little better. Something has to change, cuz the way I'm doing it now is not working!!

Kaboom

2009-11-18T12:12:00.001-08:00

Okay, so posting everyday for the rest of November went to hell fast, now didn't it? Go figure.

It's only Wednesday, and it's been a hell of a week. My Uncle Paul is very ill, very very ill. The doctors won't commit to wether he will recover or not, and it's scary as hell. Everyone in the family is praying. My mom says we have most of the North American continent covered. I only hope it's enough. Losing him just two months after my Grandma Betty would be to cruel.

And now Brad has laid a huge bombshell on me. Work in Idaho is good, and looking to get better. If it does get as good as things indicate, Brad wants to talk about both of us moving there temporarily. Renting the house out to Sara and her boyfriend. My first reaction? No, I can't leave my home, my chickens, my sewing room, my job that I love. Second reaction? I miss my husband terribly. And he misses me. He was out of town when Mason died, when my Grandma Betty died, and now while Uncle Paul is so very sick. I would love to have his strong shoulder to physically lean on while I worry. That shoulder is always there whenever I need it, for whatever I need it for, but I certainly miss having his arms around me. And it works on him that he can't be here for me in person.

So, that's my dilemma for the day. I am so grateful that the problem is too much work, and not the opposite. But whichever way things end up going, it's going to be very difficult. Sigh.

2009-11-15T16:04:00.000-08:00

Crap, I joined Facebook. Thanks alot Dani.

Bad day/Good day

2009-11-15T12:45:00.000-08:00

Hmm, I think I forgot I had a blog for a looonnngg time. Let's see if I can post every day in November, shall we?

Life is life. Good days, bad days, days I wish I didn't have to get out of bed. Today has been a bad/good day. Started out bad, got better. First thing this morning I get a phone call from my cousin Todd. Todd is in a bad situation that he really has no one but himself to blame for, but he isn't ready or willing to realize that yet. Alcohol and drugs are deadly to my family members. Todd hasn't hit bottom yet, and he may never do so. He was in a good rehab program, but he left it because it focused on behaviour modification, and according to him, he doesn't need that. I think he thought he could call me, and I would not know what was going on, and "help" him. I won't. My heart hurts for him, but I can't give him money, or a place to stay, or a job. He says he's sober, living on the streets, etc, etc. Who knows the reality? I wish I could wave a magic wand and fix him, but all I can do is fix the problems in my own life. And I'm so grateful that drugs and alcohol are not problems I have to deal with.

Work is good. I had two people out for two months, and I was working six days a week. Not a recipe for fun. Added to the fact that Brad is out of town all week now, lets just say Kathy was one tired girl.

The good part of today was that I got to talk to my Aunt Linda and my counsin Dani. Todd was the impetous for those phone calls, but these are two women I need to keep in closer contact with. Dani wants me to join Facebook, but I think I really need to get better at posting here and playing with Ravelry (online knitting mecca) before I add another internet thingie I join and don't participate in.

I want to use my time better, and finish projects, keep in touch with friends and loved ones, and not feel so alone. It is very lonely here with only the dogs and the cat for company at night. I am so grateful Brad is working, and we are going to be able to catch up all our bills, make improvements to the property, and lose some of our panic over money. But the price we are paying is steep. I am alone at home, and Brad is alone away from home. We are both homebodies, and love our quiet time with each other. There isn't much of that anymore. We just keep reminding ourselves that this won't last forever, and we have a goal, there is a purpose for this sacrifice. And our time together is so much sweeter. We focus more on each other and our relationship.

This post is rambling, but that's the way my brain is working today. I'm posting though, so that's the important thing.

Stick a fork in me, I'm done

2009-09-21T11:59:00.000-07:00

It's official, I've gone right over the edge, jumped the tracks, lost my marbles, and am ready for the men in the white coats.

Yesterday, my favorite chicken, Henrietta, disappeared. I was devastated. I bawled like a baby. And then, two hours later, Henrietta reappeared. I have no idea where she was, or what deviltry she was up to. I was so happy, I tried to hug her. For the record, chickens, (at least Henrietta) do no like to to hugged. I have the scratches to prove it.

Yep, I'm crying over chickens and trying to hug them. Someone call the looney bin, and get my room ready.

Hurt

2009-09-17T13:57:00.000-07:00

It has been a brutal time for my family. I've been wanting to blog about it for some time, but haven't had the strength. All of my energy has been taken by trying to hold others up, and keep myself afloat as well. The blows have been swift and devastating. While we are not out of the woods yet, hopefully we've found a clearing we can shelter in before forging onward.

Death has been an ever present shadow for about six weeks now. One nephew's best friend commited suicide, and my nephew was the one to find him. I can't imagine how aweful that must have been for him. Next my daughter's boyfriend's uncle passed suddenly. He'd been ill for sometime, fighting alcoholism and other problems, but one is never prepared for loss.

The next blow was the most devastating. My oldest nephew's son, two year old Mason, died. Mason had been born premature, with Cerebal Palsy, bleeding in his brain. He suffered from seizures, had physical and mental developmental challenges, but the biggest, best smile you've ever seen in your life. It has sent the entire family to their collective knees. I can't even begin to describe the torment my extended family has been through. For my immediate family, it has been hard enough. We all know Mason is in a much better place, that he is walking, and laughing, and doing cartwheels. But we hurt. The worst part for me was walking into his service, and seeing the quilt I made for him when he was born lovingly displayed on the altar underneath his cremains. I don't think about those quilts much after I make them. I didn't ever want to think about one being used in a child's funeral service. I'm not sure my heart will ever recover from that sight.

And then, three weeks to the day later, my maternal grandmother and the paternal grandmother of my sister-in-law, Mason's grandmother, both passed the same day. And I could not go back to Kansas for my grandmother's service. I did get to speak to her one last time, to tell her how much I loved her, and how much I appreciated everything she's done for me. But I couldn't be there with the rest of my family, going through pictures, telling stories, laughing and crying together. I couldn't be there to see my grandmother in the hospital, covered in the quilt I made for her several years ago. It hurts. I don't have the words for how badly it hurts.

I want to go into my room and quilt. I need to finish a baby quilt for Mason's little cousin, who is almost three months old now. My Aunt Linda has asked for a quilt, that I will gladly make for her. But all I can see when I walk into that room is Mason's quilt on the altar, and my grandmother's quilt covering a hospital bed. And all I can do is sit at my sewing machine and cry. That is the last thing I want to do. My grandmother is the reason I sew. She made my clothes when I was small, the best Halloween costumes. And I want to honor Mason's memory and courage in quilts for babies. But I just can't bring myself to sew.

I don't know how long it's going to take. But I hope soon I can sit at my beloved sewing machine and make lovely things for the people I love, and in honor of the people I love. I ache to create, but I ache more for one last moment with my grandmother, one last shot of Mason's amazing smile.

Go love someone

2009-08-15T10:31:00.000-07:00

Good news people. The cows got out of the pasture the night before Brad left for a week. I did not have to cry, go to the neighbors, or wonder which bullets went to which gun. An improvement, don't you think?

Do me a favor, ok? Go hug your pets. (No, I'm not hugging the cows, they are not pets.) Penny and Keon have been driving me crazy since last night, wondering where Dad is. And I haven't been patient with them. And then I read this and I'm crying and loving on the dogs. Even if they do need a bath. I'm so lucky to have two loyal companions who keep my company, no matter my mood. I think biscuits are in order as well.

Death by Livestock

2009-08-12T14:02:00.000-07:00

It's official, the animals on the property are out to make me more crazy than I already am, or to flat out kill me, and take the place over for themselves. Send help. I'm thinking a St Bernard with a cask of vodka. I hate brandy!

On Monday morning my beloved husband left me to fend for myself for a couple of days. The last time he did this, the cows, pigs, dogs, and horses all played musical pastures. I did not sanction this, but as the livestock outnumber me greatly, my vote was not considered. Since I control the food and water around this place, you would think they would all like to keep me happy, but apparently not.

So, back to this Monday. I'm up early (for me anyway, I like to pretend there is only one 7 o'clock in the day), and get the pigs fed. The horses and cows are on pasture, and have plenty of water. My darling hens, however, do need their outside waterer refreshed. As the darlings have begun to lay the cutest little eggs, I was in the mood to oblige them. Bad idea.

Keon the Yellow Lab was helping me with chores, mostly because he has an escape hatch built into the back fence that Brad has not had a chance to fix yet. I go into the hen's yard, and shut the gate, but do not latch it. I do not latch it because when I told Brad I'd really like a latch on the inside of the gate as well as the outside, his response was that I really shouldn't need one. Ahem.

Keon loves to fluster the hens. I keep both eyes on him when outside with the chickens. Now, he is not malicious at all about this. It is clear from the expression on his face, he thinks this is a delightful way to pass the time, and the ladies love to run about in all directions. Ahem.

When 13 hens hit an unlatched gate enmasse, it will fly open. Law of physics and all that jazz. Keon grins and goes his happy way. I am left to try to gather the girls back up, and put them back in their yard for the day. I don't like to let them run when I'm not home, as we have (a very few) neighbor dogs who roam, coyotes, hawks, eagles, things of this sort. All of the girls cooperated beautifully, except for two of my Buff Orpingtons. They were on the opposite side of the pen from the gate, and having a wonderful time rooting around in the lawn clippings from Brad's mow job of the day before.

I head around the other side of the hen house, certain I can shoo the Buffs ahead of me, they will obediantly toddle through the open gate, and I will contain everyone for the day. All was going well, until I stepped into the ginormous hole covered by lawn clippings. I was on my face before I knew it. Thank mercy Brad had mowed the day before, otherwise I probably would have landed on the wheelbarrow that had previously occupied that space. As it was, my right knee and shin took the blunt of the fall, and hurt like hell. Honestly, I laid there for a couple of minutes wondering if I hadn't broken something.

When I fell, the chickens, of course, left the yard enmasse again. I decided that they deserved a day of roaming, and it might just serve those two Buffs right if they did meet a coyote or hawk. I hobbled up to the house, Keon beside me grinning and very unrepentant of the trouble he had started. Happily, nothing is broken, although my knee swelled up to impressive proportions in the next couple of hours. It still hurts like hell if I bump it, and the deep bruise is turning a lovely shade of green.

I'm telling you people, I may not survive the animals here. I swear they have it out for me!

Eggs, I have Eggs!

2009-08-07T12:36:00.000-07:00

Let's just ignore the fact that I haven't posted in I don't know how long, ok? Thanks!

Now on to matters of great import. My two darling Rhode Island Red hens have begun to bless me with lovely brown eggs. I had scrambled eggs for breakfast yesterday morning, and they were delicious! Now I just have to wait (patiently, which is not one of my finer points), for the 6 Buff Orpingtons, and the 5 Barred Rocks to lay. My egg days have begun people! Good news is, I have lots of friends and family who want eggs, because there is no way Brad and I are going to be able to keep up with 13 hens.

Yes, I did have roosters. They are now in the freezer. One attacked my poor wee hens, and the other decided to attack me. I made Brad do the evil deed, and the girls are none the wiser that I ordered the execution of their boyfriends. Let's just keep it that way, hmm?

Brad and I are alone in our house for the first time since 1987! Sara and her boyfriend moved into an apartment the first of July. I miss her, but I've wasted no time filling the closet in her old room with unfinshed quilt tops, and I'm measuring the room to get my own longarm quilting machine. That won't happen until next spring, but I'm so excited!!! At this time, I have over 20 quilt tops waiting to be quilted. Yikes!

Life has been busy, money is still nonexistant (what else is new!), and Brad and I are adjusting to things staying where we put them, and having milk in the fridge. Also, it's amazing how much longer the bathroom stays clean! Who'd have thought?

No, I have not fallen into a volcano.

2009-06-18T14:43:00.000-07:00

It's so much easier to avoid life than actually live it. And I've been avoiding everything, work, play, my family, my pets, even the things I love. It's much easier to check out, surf the web, watch TV, start one project, only to start another. Spend money I don't have on shit I don't need.

But avoidance is only getting me depressed, angry, behind in everything, more overweight and out of shape. Did I mention depressed?

So, I'm trying to get back to my life. My loves, my hates, my mehs. Bear with me (if anyone ever reads this but me). I'm coming back slowly, and hopefully better than before. Hell, I'm even making potato salad for dinner!

I'm tired of avoiding. Time to start living again, no matter how stressful and wonderful that is.

Things Not To Ponder

2009-04-01T12:35:00.000-07:00

I had a delicious Water Buffalo Mozzarella, fresh basil, tomato, extra virgin olive oil, sea salt, and pepper sandwich on 9 Grain Bread for lunch. It was exquisitely delicious. Words cannot describe. I do not however, even want to begin to contemplate how one begins to milk a water buffalo. Just don't want to know.

Loss

2009-03-30T13:31:00.001-07:00

Sometime this week I would have been celebrating the 16th birthday of my second child. I am mourning instead, because I suffered a miscarriage 10 weeks into my pregnancy. Early I know, but no less devastating to lose my baby. It still hurts today.

Most of the time, I'm okay. This loss may explain my zeal for making baby quilts to be given to infants born at the local hospitals, babies who sometimes go home without a warm blankie to snuggle in. I honestly don't think about my missing child while I'm working on those quilts. I'm filled with joy, thinking of the child that particular quilt will end up with, sewing love and good wishes as well as stitches.

But today, that loss is heavy on my heart. Someone in my life is facing the emminent loss of their unborn child. I can do nothing for this person but love them, and grieve with them. And to be honest, that sucks. Big time.

Tomorrow, I will be working on three more quilts for babies I will never meet. And I'm afraid that I will be shedding tears as well as joy and love all over those quilts.

It's A Good Thing I'm Cute

2009-03-27T17:09:00.000-07:00

So, I made this grand decision that I was going to raise laying hens, reducing my family and friends need to buy eggs at the store. I, of course, jumped into this with both feet, and not much of a sense of what this was all going to entail, but hey, a positive attitude counts for something.

So on a Sunday morning, Brad and I headed down to the local feed store, because it was Chick Days! Over 1000 chicks, all tiny, cute peeping bundles of fuzz. Now mind you, we did not intend to purchase chicks on this day. We didn't have a coop built yet, and besides, Brad was sure this was only the first of four chick days. We'd have at least a month to get the coop up, and get ready for said chickens. On a side note, Brad and I have been together for almost 24 years now. He should know that I am totally powerless in the face of cute, tiny, fuzzy baby animals. This is why we have five barn cats. Barn cats that I feed twice a day, name, and worry over incessantly. And a house cat. The only reason we don't have more than two dogs is that Keon is HUGE, and the thought of another dog galloping around the house fills me with terror. All I'm saying, Brad should have known better.

Upon arrival at said local feed store, we found the room of chicks. Dear sweet mercy people, the level of cuteness was staggering. As was the level of peeping. I never stood a chance. Especially when our friend and next door neighbor who works there informed us that this was the only Chick Days. There would be no other days of suffocating cute fluffiness. What's a girl to do? Undetered by the fact that I had no coop for these darling chicks, I proceeded to pick out 16 darling, tiny Rhode Island Red Chicks. Was I at all concerned that only four of them were red, and the other 12 were yellow? No, not me. Remember that comment earlier about not much sense. Yeah.

People, I have 12 Cornish Cross broiler chickens, and four Rhode Island Red chickens. Cornish Cross broiler chickens are not egg layers. They are MEAT chickens. I did not want meat chickens at this juncture in my chicken career. Eventually yes, but not now. I wanted laying hens.

Looking at my darling Rhode Island Red chicks this morning (they are about three weeks 0ld at this point), I noticed that three of them appear to be growing lovely, curving ROOSTER tails. Yes, that's right. Out of 16 chicks, I managed to get ONE, I repeat, ONE freaking laying hen. Please excuse me while I have a little drink.

Home Again, Home Again

2009-02-24T21:51:00.000-08:00

As of Saturday, February 21st, we are home, sweet home. It was just a little over two months since the fire, but it certainly seemed like a lifetime. Everything went by the wayside, except for working on the house. Now we are trying to put everything away, and resume some sort of normalcy in our lives. Or at least what passes for normal around here.

I wish the blog had not suffered, but I only had so much energy, and to tell the truth, I spent a period of time terrible depressed. I am better now, and so grateful for my home and my family. I will be posting on a regular basis now. I find this helps me clear my mind, and focus. Now if it could only clear out all those boxes cluttering up my pretty new home! LOL

Hug somebody

2008-12-17T10:31:00.000-08:00

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?

I Am Thankful For

2008-11-27T13:46:00.001-08:00

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

2008-11-04T18:39:00.000-08:00

Good news, Brad and Sara were able to clear up the snafu, and both voted today. I don't want to jinx anything, but at this point, it looks like I won't have to move to Canada.

Election Day

2008-11-04T09:11:00.001-08:00

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!!!

791

2008-11-02T20:27:00.000-08:00

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!

Yikes

2008-10-24T15:49:00.001-07:00

Now I've done it, I've gone and joined NaNoWriMo. How in the hell did this happen? I blame it on my friend Shannon, and reading the blog of Rachel, of Yarnagogo fame. What in the world am I going to write? It's official people, I've lost my fricking mind. Send the folks in the white coats.

Tired, so very very tired

2008-10-06T13:53:00.000-07:00

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.

Hunting is Good

2008-09-24T09:18:00.000-07:00

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.

Crazy Ride

2008-09-18T10:19:00.000-07:00

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.

Oh Shit

2008-09-15T09:06:00.000-07:00

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.

I slept

2008-08-25T08:59:00.000-07:00

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?

Things that go snore in the night

2008-08-23T12:04:00.000-07:00

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.

I'm still here, sort of

2008-08-21T15:39:00.000-07:00

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!

Animals Own My Home

2008-07-09T11:32:00.000-07:00

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.

Different is the new Beautiful

2008-06-17T15:14:00.000-07:00

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?

Bittersweet

2008-06-16T15:08:00.000-07:00

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!

Here I Am

2008-05-13T14:37:00.000-07:00

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.