Peeg's trauma

Peeg is so grateful that BS finally trimmed the mess around his second favorite tree--he really likes to rest there, and now he can get a good waller up and sun at the same time, without dealing with weeds. And he needs this rest because he had a hard weekend.
This morning, Peeg was on high alert when I left for work. In fact, he has been on high alert since Sunday nite, when the big trauma happened. Really, I just included this picture because those belly wrinkles absolutely crack me up. Anyway, Peeg finally got his tusks clipped Sunday night. And what a spectacle it was! This required a rope to go in his mouth and be snugged up over his snout. But first you have to catch him.

The screaming started long before we ever got our hands on him. Boce loves visiting, and being petted on his own terms, and he particularly loves having his belly scratched, and sometimes his butt scratches make his leg shake like a dog--but he does NOT like being held. Not at all. He must have known he was going to be trapped, because he started screaming like a mad man when we first even thought of catching him.

We chased him around in the garage for a while--and you have not seen a disaster area like our garage. Much of that is Boce's fault but even when we did not have him, it was a disaster. He makes piles though. All of this is to tell you what a circus this was--three people chasing him, me cackling like a loon, Head cussing and Linda laughing and asking Head if he was really having a heart attack. Eventually, Head tackled Boce on a mattress, and got the rope in his mouth. That just made him scream more. Boce not Head. Well maybe both.

The next step was to get the cutters. Bolt cutters. I stood behind and over Boce and scratched his belly while he got nipped. When he was not screaming, he was humming because he really likes that tummy scratching. At some point, I fell down backwards and he plopped right in my lap. That just made me laugh harder, which he did not appreciate. I think he was just overwhelmed and maybe a little mad at us for laughing at him. So he got his teeth did, and the second we took the rope of his snoot, he shut up. Then he ran like hell.

This process does not hurt, so please do not think we are evil. He was starting to use those things as weapons. He bit Simba just before we did this, for no reason at all, other than that she was standing there. He was just tasting her, not being mean, but with tusks three inches long, some damage can be done.

By the time he got back from dinner, Boce loved me again, but when he saw Head, he turned around and ran away. Guess that will take more than an hour to get over.

But look how pretty he looks! No more ouchy tusks sticking out. He is such a handsome peeg.
Charlie on the other hand, is one angry cat for some reason. Maybe he watched this whole thing go down, and is holding a grudge on Boce's behalf. I am never sure about Charlie--he is a strange dude. Why else would his best friend be a pig?

There is a new man in town

Is that the most handsome face you have seen in a long time? I think so. And he could not be sweeter if he tried.

He arrived last nite, after running loose and receiving threats of being shot by angry neighbors. He lived in a junk yard, but evidently was not supervised well, and fortunately, the owner agreed to give him to someone who could keep him safer. Linda brought him to me.

And here is the sad part. Look at that poor child. You can see every rib on him, every vertebrae, his hip bones protrude, and he has calluses on his butt bones. It is truly heart breaking.

I took him to the vet today. He weighs 104 pounds, and according to the doc, needs to gain 40-50 pounds. We got very lucky, and he is heartworm negative. We hope he is just full of worms, and we have started treating that. Slowly but surely, we will get this weight back on him. The vet also thinks he is 3 years old or so, which is older than we were told, but still not bad. I was dreading finding out that he was very old, so that is a relief. She based that partly on his teeth, which are in pretty dang good shape, but also the shape and size of his neck--that is all testosterone. Which is the next thing that will be addressed--he gets neutered in a few weeks, and will also have his stomach tacked so that if he bloats, he will not torsion. That is what killed Stumpy and Thor, and I cannot bear to go through it again.

He looks very much like Argo, who we had for several years. That was a wonderful dog, and if this dude is half as wonderful, we will be very happy with him.

He will not meet the other dogs for a few weeks, in case he has picked up something out in the world. At Simba and Slater's advanced ages, kennel cough could do them in, so better safe than sorry. He is currently spending his time in the laundry bathroom except when I am with him, because he thinks he has to mark everything. That is an unpleasant habit that I am not used to, since I do not have intact dogs ever. We will deal with it though.

The current hurdle is to get him to eat. He refused last nite, but ate over night. He has decided not to eat so far today, but maybe he will eat over night again.

I will admit he cuddled up in bed with me for a half hour this morning. I really missed that, as Thor was the best cuddler ever, and it has been a while.

Now--the immediate situation---this boy has no idea what his name is. And I did not like the one he came with, so we need some suggestions. I do not like people names for animals--as you probably know by now--but I dont really have any ideas for this dude. I want something big and strong, because he is sure gonna be!

Cutest thing ever

I just saw a story on the news about a baby hippo being born somewhere. All I caught was some video and that the zoo keepers do not know if it is a girl baby or boy baby because Big Mama hippo will not let them close enough to find out.

So I went in search of more info, and instead found this instead.

http://www.zooborns.com/zooborns/2010/06/baby-hippo-takes-to-the-water.html

That might be the cutest thing I have seen in years.

I almost cannot stand it.

I hope this does not send me back to the Nat Geo Wild channel for more kill em and eat em shows--I do not have time to waste laying in bed for days on end, crying about what animals do to each other.

Who else does this?

Sometimes, I stay up late in the night, knowing full well I have to work, and read about horrible things. I mean I might research for 10 hours and never get up out of the chair, and then be surprised when it is daylight. I read until I am irritated that I cannot find more information, and wonder where I can find it, or what to believe, and what it would be like to talk to the parties involved to get the real story and not the one that all these other people wrote up thinking they knew what they were talking about. I do not wonder this about the people most people wonder about, like celebrities, or politicians.....I wonder about killers. Killers and other bad-doers.

Tuesday nite, I stayed up most of the night reading about Leopold and Loeb. I realize that a person like me should know pretty much everything about them, but I really did not--just the basics. Something set me off though, and I got on a mission to know more, and it made me stay up all night. That makes it hard to get to work and deal with today's killers, which is really what I should be more concerned about than the killers of the 1920s. But that is what I did.

I do not even know what got me on them really. I have always been fascinated with killers--particularly serial killers, and killers who happen to be women but kill people other than their husbands and children. That is probably my main killer interest niche. That I have a killer interest niche at all is weird, but I can blame that on work mostly. I hope I can, at least, otherwise, we have a whole other batch of problems over here. I am going to pretend I was not always interested, long before I got sucked into the internal workings of some of these people

So now I am wondering about this. Richard Loeb was killed in prison but Nathan Leopold was ultimately paroled, moved to Puerto Rico, married and died there in the 1960s. I wonder what he was like then. Was he normal? What caused him and Loeb to be who they were? I do not believe it was as easy as planning the "perfect crime" as they were known for, especially because it seems like they sure screwed up a bunch of stuff, and clearly they were way too smart to screw up that bad. Was it the world of entitlement they lived in, along with some of the odd things they lived through growing up? Was it just spoiled brat-itis? Was there something more?

This is the kind of stuff I think about.

Do other people think like this? Is it odd that I get so drawn in by this stuff? Or that I have a whole bookcase full of true crime books, and can watch some Dateline or 48 Hours around the clock? Is that strange?

My other hang up right now is the story of William Heirens--a man who has been incarcerated longer than anyone in the US, and who is quite likely not guilty of the murders he is convicted of committing. He is almost 82 years old....but that is a whole other story.

A story for another day I guess

What kind of thing drags you in until you lose track of time?

Surgery update

Dad is fine. His surgery went well, they got the tumor out of his bladder and did a biopsy on something else. When I was there at lunch, after having been directed to buy him a diet Dr Pepper at a particular place, he complained it was too big.

So he is totally back to normal.

He should get out of the hospital tomorrow and have the results of the biopsy in a week or so. They are testing the tumor as well, but no reason to think it is not cancer, since there is an 80% chance of recurrence once you have had bladder cancer.

He will be fine

What they do with free time

These horses are worse than a barrel of monkeys when it comes to getting into trouble. This is Reno, who is in to deal with his cut up leg and ouchy hind hoof. He needs to be walking around to keep the blood flowing, and everything healing, so I do not make him stay in a stall. I just shut the gates by the barns, and let him roam around. He stays pretty busy, stealing food from Playmate and flirting with Riot, and supervising babies, all of whom are in lots that are close to the barn. He is healing really well too--especially the puncture wound that we never did see, on his left hind. His gait is almost normal now--just a little limp every once in a while, and I am starting to think he is faking that.

Anyway, this is what he looked like after breakfast on Sunday. Normal--with a stringy mane, but every thing else on his head was as it should be.

And this is what he looked like after lunch....missing some hide on his forehead. It is a big ol chunk too--with a teeny tuft of hair left in the middle. Not a drop of blood anywhere and it does not hurt--he just knocked the hide off.

Evidently, he has some free time on his hands to find things to get into and tear himself up further. I may not be able to stop that, but I can for sure give him something else to think about.

So tonight, while the waters were running....and running....and running... I decided to see just what Reno would put up with. He was "helping" me get the feed buckets ready, with his head stuck in the deep freeze, so I tossed a saddle pad on him. He was not sure what he thought of that, but he was not horribly upset. He trotted off a bit, not in a panic, and not in enough to get it off---he just moseyed away and started grazing. Hmm, I thought....that was easy.

I decided to up the ante, and tied him to see what he would do if I put it back on there. He did nothing. Not a damn thing. Just stood there and looked bored. It cracked me up to see him with that big oversized cutting pad on him. He is a little bitty squirt, only about 13'2" so far, and just a little over two years old, so not even close to being ready to start. I get so used to how little they are at that age, I do not think about it. These pictures though, cracked me up--he looks like a little kid playing dress up.

I figured I might as well keep pushing him, since the waters were STILL running. I got out the barrel saddle, as it is the lightest, and I put it on him. I was not super easy about it, but I did not flop it up like I normally would do. He was a little tense, so I took it easy and obviously did not cinch it up tight. I left him there to think about it for a minute or two while I went to flip the hose. When I got back, he had relaxed a lot, and seemed fine with it, so I took it off. I put it on again a few times, and snugged it up a little more and waited for a reaction. Nothing came.

Fine, I says. Now what? The water was still running, and I had already mowed the yard. I did not feel like cleaning up all the junk in the barn from when the other marauders tore it all up, so I took Reno on a walk. We visisted the other pastures and flopped the stirrups on his sides, and wiggled the saddle. I never got much reaction out of him, but he seemed more in tune to seeing what I wanted from him than he normally does when I am just leading him somewhere. I almost think he had fun having some mental stimulation, processing all that was happening.

Interesting. That was pretty easy. I will keep at it, so that this little bit of business will be done by the time he goes to the trainer, whenever that may be.

It won't be tomorrow though, since Dad is having surgery for his bladder cancer and I have a board meeting after work, and am taking Rita out to dinner for her birthday.

Barry is leaving

Not me. Well kind of me. Not the marriage. He is moving to another job. This one is not nearly as cool for us as the last one is.

He leaves in the morning for Columbus OH. Who knows how long he will be there, several months at least.

That just sucks

Water babies

well not babies. Horses of all ages evidently do get in the ponds at the farm. I have never seen them do it and of course, they quit by the time I got there. That means the only pics I have of them are the ones Barry got with his phone and texted to me.
So the pics suck. But the still make me happy because they look like they are having so much fun
No wonder they are always so filthy.

This looks hard

Somehow, this does not look like it is worth it to me. They shovel all that manure by hand, then drive the horses to spread it.

Then again, who am I to talk? My manure spreader is actually UNDER part of my manure pile. And they do not even HAVE a manure pile.

I am always amazed at the huge number of things these big horses can do. My little cutters would not get very far dragging that turd wagon

Are we proud or what?

Big doings in the great state of Illinois this week--and what better way to draw attention to us than to have these sorts of shenanigans going on, putting us in the national news.

The most obvious is the hung jury in the Blagojevich trial. Everyone is in an uproar screaming about corruption being the cause of the jury being hung, but I disagree. The prosecutors just flat did not make their case. I deal with juries every day of my life, and the fact is, juries are predisposed to convict people. For anything but that to happen, you have to look for a good cause. I have thought all along that the feds acted too quickly on Blago, and beat themselves out of their best evidence. Now they will have to start all over again

The only reason I care is that it is a waste of money, and that is in short supply. Illinois is corrupt, always has been and always will be. Whether Blago is any worse than anyone else is still up in the air--a little stupider perhaps for running his mouth so much when he knew full well he was being taped, but arrogance is a powerful drug. It is also a common one--he just managed to get sideways of the wrong people and is being made an example of as a result. I have to admit though that I can't help but laugh at how absurd he is. I am not saying we should tolerate all this corruption, and we have to start somewhere trying to clean it up, but I think it is disingenious for everyone to act so shocked. Chicago politicians are a breed unto themselves, and we should quit acting like we are surprised when they keep it up.

The far more interesting thing to me is a little closer to home. This weekend, Tila Tequila got tore up at the Gathering of the Juggalos, held about an hour and a half from me, in the deeper hillbilly section of Illinois. The gathering is a four day event, hosted by the Insane Clown Posse and is attended by their followers, who come from all over the country to camp out and participate in all manner of debauchery. Even in the bowels of southern Illinois, Juggalos are a whole 'nother breed--and most are not from here, so it is not like we can take credit for it all ourselves (or the blame, is probably the better way to put it). I bet most people never even heard of a Juggalo until this mess happened this weekend, where she was attacked on stage by thrown bottles, feces, and other nastiness. I would not know about them either if this event was not held so close to us.

They do have some interesting entertainment that I would not mind seeing, but I am not going into the belly of the beast with those crazy, demented and some very dangerous bastards to see them. Every year there are problems--there was a stabbing this year, and I just read that Method Man was injured as well. Last year, some dude just rolled up dead from an OD. That is pretty typical Gathering behavior

It is fascinating to me that people said Tila Tequila asked for it. Excuse me? She got paid to make an appearance and despite warnings that the Juggalos were going to hurt her, she tried to do her job and trusted security to take care of her. There is no excuse for that sort of ridiculous behavior. The videos online show that she did not make this up, as many people have suggested.

These people are crazy. I cannot understand why anyone would think this is ok behavior.

How bout that for a big week in Illinois? From the governor's mansion to one of the southern-most points in the state, we had bad things happen.

I'm so proud.

Day one of Work Camp

This week, Barry was supposed to be home helping get all these properties in order. He has not been here for more than a weekend (and usually a weekend day at that) in over a year--and things just fall behind. I planned to work shorter days this week and use a bunch of vacation time to help him with big projects in the afternoons and evening

Well, it has not worked out that way. He ended up working all morning and I knew when he called me at 2 pm to see if I was coming home early that he had not done a damn thing on the list. I got home at 3:30 and what did I see? Barry standing in the driveway with a weed-eater in one hand (I almost did not know what it was, it is so rare I see it doing anything but hanging from the rafters in the garage), and talking on his phone.

I swear, I would like to shove that phone right up someone's ass. Being around him is like being around some huge business tycoon running a multinational corporation. He is not however doing that, and damn sure not getting paid like he is, so it is irritating that we cannot get through a meal without that thing chirping or cheeping or beeping or making some other absurd noise.

He did get more done than I would have thought this afternoon though. He finally cut up the tree that attacked my horse trailer last October and hauled it to the burnpile, along with a whole bunch of other trees that have lost branches--like the one that fell on the house. That is a pretty big job. Nowhere near as big as the one he really needs to do this week, which is clean up down trees that have fallen all over the pasture fences here at the house. I swear, it is a good thing Sly loves me too much to leave, or he would have long since left for greener pastures, as there is no way this fence can be working very well past a certain point, because there are huge trees down on the fence. Fortunately, the brush around those areas is so thick, he cannot possibly know how easy it would be to leave. Anyway, that was to be the job for tomorrow and Wednesday, leaving the rest of the week to work at the farm tearing down old fence, and repairing, etc.

He also wanted to go mountain biking and play golf, and lay in the pool etc.

Not gonna happen.

He is already called back to work to deal with the empty apartments of most of his crew--they were shipped out so fast, their apartments were not cleaned up at all, so he has to deal with the cleaning crews. He also has to haul out a bunch of stuff from the warehouse etc, so I guess he is out in the morning and will be back Wednesday nite or Thursday.

I already mowed like a wild woman tonight, and started Roundup-ing where he weedeated, but there is plenty to keep me busy while he is gone.

Things never go as planned around here

I bet this will be an unpopular opinion

I have been thinking about this some today, and because every other post on FB is about this topic, I cannot stop myself from popping off about it.

I am talking about this business of the mosque and Islamic cultural center planned near Ground Zero.

On FB, there is another one of those "post this on your wall if you agree" things about how wrong it is that this may happen--it says "If you think, that putting up a mosque, 600 ft. from ground zero & having the inauguration, on the anniversary of 9/11/11 is immoral, inhumane & a complete lack of respect for the memories of all that perished there, on that day & their survivors. That politicians are doing a grave injustice to the fallen heroes, their families & all

the people of New York City, THEN COPY AND PASTE THIS TO YOUR WALL.

What do you think about this?

I will tell you what I think. Of course I will, I mostly always do. I am ashamed and disgusted by people that call this "immoral and inhumane". I agree that it is in poor taste, but I think that about a lot of things. But I do not think I am so important that what I think matters so much that it should trump what other people think.

First of all, who are we to say what a private organization can do with its money, as long as it is within the bounds of the law? Isn't the very idea that the plan should not be allowed to go forward simply echoing the problem that allowed the Twin Towers to fall in the first place? By that I mean, why should any one group (and I include, Americans as "one group") have the right to dominate other groups just because they do not like them? Isnt that why the whole thing started in the first place?

What ever happened to freedom of religion, and freedom of speech and the freedom to assemble? Why do so many people think those rights only matter when everyone agrees on how those things are expressed? The whole point of ensuring those freedoms is to protect the less popular among us--the rest of us do not need it. Why can people not see past themselves?

This article was in the Washington Post this morning.

"President Obama's remarks Friday and Saturday on a proposed mosque and Islamic cultural center near Ground Zero sparked heated exchanges on the Sunday morning news shows.

Rep. Peter King (R-N.Y.) said on CNN's "State of the Union" that the issue is not that there is a legal right to build the mosque but that those involved should listen to public opinion, which he said is strongly opposed to the project. I Totally agree with this. But there is a difference between SHOULD and FORCING the builders to abdicate to public opinion. Also, we are not a homogenous public--we are a mix of people with different opinions and beliefs. Sure, if the US government was going to do this, it would be a different story--but this is a private interest acting.

Rep. Jerry Nadler (D-N.Y.), whose district includes Ground Zero, countered that there is a "fundamental mistake" behind the thinking of those opposed to the project.

"The fallacy is that al-Qaeda attacked us. Islam did not attack us," Nadler said. To this I say: RIGHT ON! HALLELUJAH--someone gets it.

On "Fox News Sunday," Sen. Jack Reed (D-R.I.) said troops in Afghanistan are being asked to find common ground with Muslims. "If we can't do that here in the United States, we're going to have a very difficult time over there," Reed said. He makes a good point--being the self-annointed police of the world comes with it the responsibility of practicing what we preach--that is not happening in this situation.

National Republican Senatorial Committee Chairman John Cornyn (Tex.) responded that "it's unwise to build a mosque in the site where 3,000 Americans lost their lives as the result of a terrorist attack." Unwise?--maybe. But they are free to, just like you and I would be free to do what we want with out property

On "Face the Nation," Republican strategist Ed Rollins said the mosque is "going to be a big, big issue for Democrats across this country" at the ballot box". I think it should be but for a different reason than I bet he thinks---Obama supports the development as a manifestation of the right to build. He clearly said he did not speak to the wisdom of it--just the right to do it. Why do people forget that his role is not to carry out the wishes of the majority blindly, but to do what is constitutionally required (at least as far as he has anything to do with this). Why would people turn on him simply because he stood up for the rights of everyone, and not just yours?

I do not understand how people can be so obtuse about things like this---something is not wrong just because you do not like it. I do not like seafood, but I do not think it should be banned country wide. Why is this any different? People have to be able to separate their emotions from their brains, and it seems to me like a whole pile of Americans cannot do that. That makes me sad, because it does not offer much encouragement that we are any different than those who flew into the towers in the first place. Is that really who you want to be?

CD Olena dies

CD Olena (Doc O'Lena x CD Chica San Badger)

1991-2010

Well this sucks. He was such a nice horse that seemed to be enjoying a bit of a resurgence in popularity in the last couple of years. I never had a son or daughter, but I had a couple of grandbabies, and always intended to have one someday. Of course, I still can--but I won't be making one myself, I guess.

He sure left a lot of good ones to represent him.

No way to start a week

Yes, that is a toilet. My toilet in the middle bathroom. The one I use in the middle of the nite. I stumbled in there half asleep around 2:30 this morning, and thought the cleaning lady needed a talking to about not doing a good job cleaning the toilet. So I lifted the seat. There was a FROG in the toilet. Turns out she cleans fine, but there was a frog in it. That is weird even for me.

He scared me to death, so I went to get Barry out of the bed--no way he would believe this if he did not see it. I dragged him out of bed to the middle bathroom, and what did he say?

"sure enough. That is a frog". And he went back to bed.

I went after him of course, and asked him to get the frog out of the toilet. He refused. He told me to shut the lid and he would get it in the morning, and to use one of these many other bathrooms. I swear, I even forget about the other ones, as I think of them as his bathrooms. I loaded up the toilet paper, just in case there was not any in these bathrooms I never visit, and wandered around looking for another one. I shut the lid on the way out.

When Barry left for work this morning about 6 am, I reminded him to get rid of the frog. He said he could not find him.

WHAT? Already I am worried frogs are coming out of the septic tank up into my toilet and now he is telling me he cannot FIND IT? Is this some sort of superhero, freak frog? WTF? I am not scared of a frog, for Pete's sake, but one in the can, then disappearing is a whole other deal.
I slept some more, as well as a person with a magic friggin frog can sleep, and when it was time to get up, I wandered back into my regular bathroom. And there he was. Just chilling on the frame of a picture hanging above the toilet. By the way, my bathroom is not pink. Not even close--more terra cotta. I tell you this just in case you think my biggest problem is not a frog in the bowl, but a six year old decorating my bathrooms. The flash made it look crazy.

I somehow did not think it was right to dislodge this industrious fellow, so I went to work, and called Barry on the way to tell him the frog was not missing, but he was quite possibly not the best husband in the world for leaving this transient amphibian up in my house with no supervision. He did not care.

When I got home after work, about 6:30 tonight--he was STILL there! It did not look like he had moved a bit at all. I got him off of there to take outside, as the last thing I need after finding a frog in my toilet bowl is a frog using my toilet bowl, and he was very cold. Poor little dude.

He is now re-homed in the back yard.

I hope he has a better week than he started me off on. I cannot get the idea that things might come up in the septic tank out of my mind, and my work did not help by telling me snakes and rats can do that. By God, they better not, or I may never poop again

Wonkers is a klepto

We are still recovering from Reunion Weekend, so not much to report on. At least not that I am GOING to report on, that is. Maybe in a few days. But I knew I had better get something up here before every one totally quit reading this thing.

We worked on a few more pics today for Project Update the Website and sell these horses, and as usual, Baby Wonkers stole the show. If it is not one thing, it is another with him. Not only did he want to come out with every other horse to interrupt the photo session, he would run off with something.

First, it was a halter that was hanging on a gate. That interrupted things for a while, as every time we would get a horse set up for pictures, Wonk would come shooting through the shot, flopping that stupid halter around.

Fine then, we thought, if he was bound and determined to distract everyone, he could do his photo shoot. He is obviously an attention hog. He wanted Barry to love on him, or scratch him, or lay something down so he could steal it. I think that was his main goal.

And finally, Barry did--he dropped HaidaGirl's lead. Wonkers swooped in to save the day--he sure did not want his mama to go anywhere without him. Obviously, the best way to make sure she did not go anywhere without him was for Wonk to hold her lead in his teeth. He dragged HG around in circles for a while, and Barry just got out of the way. It was so funny to watch her plant her foot and just spin around and try not to run over Wonk, but Wonk was not about to drop that lead rope---at least not until he made sure I got only really bad pics of it.

This one is a character--the last baby I had this much fun with was Peter Pan, ten years ago. Some of them just have so much personality, they don't have anywhere to keep it all.

And you should see him play this game with a water hose--I cannot just drop the hose in their water trough and go do something else--either HG is in the water kicking it all out, or Wonk runs off with the hose. These two are a full-time job

Pre-Reunion--the Warmup

This weekend is our 20 year HS reunion. I think it is quite possible it will kill me. Last nite, Adam hosted a mostly-girls nite at his house, and cooked for us, and made daiquiris, and was a great host. He pretty much rocks

I only took a few pics, but if I do not get them up now, I never will.

I cannot imagine what Stacey is doing here

Adam and Stephanie

Melissa and Vanessa

Tranae
Amy, Adam and Steph

There were other people there, but they escaped my camera--probably on purpose. I will get them though, whether they like it or not.

Notice how sedate these pictures are? Its all a fraud. We acted up, danced in the living room, and stayed up half the nite. We had a blast. So much so that I only worked part of the day and am going back to bed in preparation for tonight.

Stay tuned for much foolishness

I would blog but....

It is just too hot. I am afraid to break a sweat. My A/C cannot keep up with the 112-123 heat index we have had this week. Neither can the one at work, where it was 82 when I got to work this morning, so they sent me home to work at home. I knew it was messed up yesterday and even last week I mentioned it, but I guess no one cared enough to do anything about it. When I was there one nite, I kept having to print my work, then go down to the car to edit in the car with the A/C on full blast

I thought that would be swell to work at home. It usually is, I get so much done. It was not swell today. I was typing typing typing, with the plastic covers of transcripts on my lap, and the heat from my computer made me sweat. That is just nasty. I even bought a fancy dehumidifier last week because someone said that it would help the sweating situation while in my house, and I busted it out today

I don't think it does help much.

It is now getting down to the lower 70s in my house--at 10:30 pm almost. I like it no hotter than 70 degrees. I think it is 74 right now. I would go to sleep but that is even worse. The coolest room in the house this minute is the living room---and who ever goes in there? I wonder if I could sleep on that couch? I have never tried it, but this might be the day.

Ugh. This is too much activity for me, I have to quit

What Happy Looks like

we have worked our tails off all weekend--and that is no exaggeration. In the middle of it today, we took a little break for play time, and I am glad we did, because this reminded me why we do all the work we do.

Bree had never ridden Hawk before, and did not really mean to this time--she just fetched someone, anyone, out of the pasture to play with this afternoon. She cleaned up his sitting spot and climbed on and started playing. I suspect Hawk has never been ridden bareback--I know I have not, because I suck at it and my legs are too dang short, and Barry does not play. Hawk was happy about the whole arrangement though.

We get so caught up in the business end of horses, and the competitive angles, and the sales goals--and it is so easy to forget that they are supposed to be fun. They are supposed to make us happy and take us away from real life, if even just for a minute.

Bree had fun, Hawk had fun, and I had fun--it was fun to watch, and satisfying to know that a 12 year old could drag him out of the pasture after months since his last ride, and he would be just fine for play time.

Thanks Bree for making me remember why we bother, and what the point of all this is---and I will get the rest of the jillion pics edited and posted soon. Can't wait til you come back!