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 |  A Journal of our Adventures in Country Living.... |
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"Home is where the heart is" and this is the continuing story of our life on the farm....where our heart is and where we make our home. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** I want to thank janieruthryals for this wonderful Merit Badge: ![Merit Badge in Nature
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For the wonderful visit to your farm, all through the words in your blog.](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/genre-Nature-1125.gif) |
| I just wanted to let everyone know that we have a wormy computer. Somehow, somewhere we caught a virus. When I scanned for it, it said it was a WIN32 Trojan. I tried to quarantine it and it wouldn't allow me access, so it said to delete the file. I did........ and then we couldn't connect to the internet. I took our wormy computer to the computer doctor and he said he would see if he can fix the file. I guess there is a nasty virus going around and if it attaches itself to an important file, then you can really wreck things when you delete that file.... like I did !!! To make matters worse, David had today and tomorrow off and he planned on doing some work on his stories and do a blog or two. Without the computer he decided he would just lay back and play games on the Xbox 360. He went to turn it on and it was messed up. So there he sat, with two days off and no computer and no game !!! He was going stir crazy. I mean, he even cleaned the house... vacuumed, did the dishes swept the floor... then he headed outside to cut the grass. hehehehe.... tell me I don't know how to get a man out of his chair and helping with the housework.... just take away his play toys !!!! Hopefully, the computer doctor can fix our computer and we can get it back in a day or two. Oh.... after David got the house cleaned and the grass cut, I conveniently fixed his Xbox !!! So now he is sitting at home, happy as a kid, playing with one of his toys. I'm still at my sisters so am using her computer at the moment. She missed her train connection in Chicago yesterday so will be home tonight instead. I have been hopping back and forth between my house and hers all day. My brother showed up, sort of unexpectedly last night. We knew he was coming to visit after my sister got back from her vacation, but we thought it would be this coming weekend. We didn't know it was to be the day she was to have gotten home. So it's been fun visiting with him. Hopefully you will see David back online soon. |
| Torture, that’s all it is. I know that these technicians get a kick out of watching us squirm on the table, making faces and holding our breaths. I hate it. Especially now that I am older, and my bladder just doesn’t want to carry the work load it use to. You ladies know what I am talking about. It’s that dreaded ultrasound to check out our womanly parts deep inside of us. They say that the bladder has to be next to overflowing to get a good picture of our uterus. I never understood that concept, but the doctors know best... don’t they. Or do they just like to watch us squirm? I had to have one of these test done last week. The last time I was in to see my doctor, she scheduled an appointment with the radiologist to have it done. I had put it off several times, but they always managed to find another time slot for me in the next day or two, so there was no way I could avoid it altogether. Ok, might as well get this over with. No food after midnight. That I can handle. I rarely eat that late anyway, and I am not a breakfast person, so I knew this would be a breeze. The morning of the test ... Drink water. Then drink MORE water. Then after that... drink even MORE water. I remember the last time I had this done, probably 10 years ago or more. At that time, my bladder was in excellent working order and I had no worries at all. I would show them how much my bladder could hold.... a small lake if I had the inclination to. I drank and drank and drank. I even took a bottle of water to the doctors office with me and sipped on it while I waited. That was the little word that broke the straw.... waited. You see, my appointment was scheduled for 10am. My bladder was beyond full by that time, as I had planned it to be. What my plans didn’t allow for was the doctor being late !!!!!! I waited, and waited and waited. My bladder started talking to me, telling me I had better find the closest bathroom within a reasonable amount of time. I waited...... My bladder told me that the reasonable amount of time it had given me was just about up ! And I continued to wait.... and pace, and cross my legs. My bladder started screaming at me....... Then they finally called me in. When I rose up from my chair, I swear my bladder almost mutinied. It was all I could do to contain it and keep it under control. It was kicking and punching to be emptied.... NOW ! I thought the worse was over. Lay down, get the test done, and then RELIEF..... I forgot all about the slow, meticulous running of the scanner all over my lower regions, and the prodding and the pushing to get that perfect shot. I am sure, if the radiologist had looked closely at the screen, he would have seen my bladder in all out warfare with cannons blasting, trying to lessen the pressure that had built up within it. More prodding and pushing. God Almighty, was this man just trying to make me pee right there on the bed???? He had that smug look on his face, like he knew darn well what kind of torture he was putting me through. Well, I made it... barely. Thank goodness they had a small bathroom right there in the room and I didn’t even have to pull my clothes back up... just run... FAST. So now I had this to look forward to again. But this time, my bladder was semi retired and would never accept the work force it was going to be asked to do. I fretted all morning. I waited until the very last minute to start drinking water. I sipped, delicately, trying to convince my bladder that this was going to be easy. Well, you know what? The old girl surprised me. She did good. I ended up drinking about 8 glasses of water before I left for my appointment. As I stepped into the doctors office, I could just feel the faintest hints of my bladder starting to complain. It’s ok, ole girl, I told her. Just hang in there, this will be over in no time at all.... I prayed. My appointment was at 11am, and I was on the table and the scan being done by 11:05. Sure, my bladder shuddered a bit when she was pressed and prodded, but she held up. I was so very proud of her. When all was done, she even let me get partially dressed before I had to make a run for the bathroom. Whew............. how do you spell relief...... PEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.............. Gosh was I glad to get that over with. Oh, my doctor said something about a upper and lower GI..... wonder how long I can put those off ??? |
| Since a lot of my friends have decided to do blogs touching on the subject of sex.... especially of our battery operated boyfriends B.O.B. I couldn't resist this. I hope the link comes through. http://www.funstufftosee.com/funstuff/vibrator.mp3 |
| How can the most simplest of things cause a person to sit, entranced and spellbound for minutes and sometimes hours? Or at least keep me spellbound for hours at a time !! I hollered for David the other evening as our three resident deer were in our front yard eating the wild cherries that had fallen off the tree. “Come quick.” I yelled. “Come see the deer.” David walked up, nodded, acknowledged that they were nice and started to walk back into the house. “Where are you going?” I asked. “Don’t you want to sit out here on the porch and watch them?” He looked at me kind of weird and just shook his head. “I saw the deer, honey,” he replied. “Now I am going back inside to play my game.” “But the deer are here.” I exclaimed. “Honey, you act like this is the very first time you have ever seen the deer.” He explained. Well, he was right. They do come up in the yard almost every night. Sometimes there is only one, sometimes three and sometimes more, but you can almost count on them to show up right after dark. I have moved the apple block out there and also cast some corn around, so they have more to chose from in the way of a menu. But I am always amazed by them. I so anticipate them walking into our yard and hanging around for over an hour every night nibbling on the dropped berries and all the other goodies laying before them. Once the sun goes down, I anxiously start checking, looking out the window to see if they have come yet. Every 15 or 30 minutes I look, and once I see them, I breath a sigh of relief and settle down in the chair on the front porch to watch them. I always sit out on the front porch and await David’s return from work. These past few weeks he has been working a later shift and usually gets home around 8:35 or so. The other night he drove up, got out of the car and started walking up to the side steps on the front porch. I waved to him to stop and told him to walk around to the front steps instead. He stood there looking at me, giving me that weird look again, but then did as I asked. He walked up onto the porch and sat down and then asked my why he couldn’t use the side steps. I pointed down the porch, towards the steps. He looked, and looked and finally turned back around to me and said, “And what am I looking for, honey?” “The Spider.” I said excitedly. It was a beautiful evening and I walked out on the front porch early, around 7pm to enjoy the time and watch the sun set. As I sat there I noticed movement off to my left. There was a huge spider weaving a web. He was working so diligently traveling along an existing web he had just woven, laying a new one along beside it. Around and around he went with an occasional side trip to secure the new web to a solid foundation close by. I sat there for over an hour keeping an eye on my spider. By the time he got done, he had a web that stretched across the full width of the front porch, a good 5 or 6 feet at least. He continued to go over and over the web strengthening it where it was weak and tweaking it here and there. Then he settled down, right smack in the middle of the web and waited. I waited, he waited. I was waiting for my honey to come home, he was waiting for a good juicy bug to fly into his trap so he could have a decent meal that night. I could have just let David walk smack dab into the web, but I hated to see the spider lose his meticulous nights work. But it would have made for a good laugh though, to watch David wave his arms wildly trying to escape the sticky mess covering him. Every night since then, as I wait for David, I watch my spider spin his web. It is always in the same place, just at different angles. Sometimes it stretches across the porch as it did that first night I saw him, or sometimes it is perpendicular to the wall. It can stretch from the cockatiels cage to the porch railing, or from the wall to the steps, but it is there every night. He is a clean spider, as the web is always gone in the morning, not a trace of it left. I wondered out loud how the spider got his web stretched all the way across the porch. It would have been a long trip for him to crawl up and around the ceiling and then back down again on the other side. David just shook his head, gave me that weird look again and said it was a shame that a man couldn’t even walk across his own porch because his wife has a pet spider. Last night, the spider showed me how he spun his silky thread and how he attached it to one of the post across the porch. He had already spun a partial web from the bird cage to the wall. I watched as he went out to the furthest spot on his web and turned his butt towards the far side of the porch. Then the silk thread started coming out, catching a breeze that I couldn’t feel. I watched it as it snaked out, flowing gently, waving and curling in the air. It stretched further and further until it finally made contact with the railing on the other side of the porch. As soon as contact was made, the spider turned around and gathered up the slack and glued his end of the web in place. Then he quickly moved across this new thread to the other side and secured that end in place and started the intricate maneuvers that ended up forming a large web over 6 feet in diameter. I have identified this spider as an Orb Spider and they are most commonly found out in barns, gardens and around the outside of the house. They are dangerous only if you walk into their web and they scamper over your face to get out of the way and cause you to have a heart attack. I saw last night that I have another Orb Spider that is has taken up residence along the outside of the porch. I will have to keep my porch light on at night so they get plenty of action in their webs. I have also noticed that when I do leave my porch light on to attract the insects for the spiders, that I also have some little critters gather on the porch for their easy meal. The toads. It’s fun to watch them come. I turn the light on and sit and wait. In about fifteen minutes you start to see the blades of grass moving about 15 feet away. As they get closer, you can make them out, their brown bumpy, warty bodies slowly making their way towards the light. Up on the front walk they come, up the two steps and onto the porch to sit, along with myself and the spiders, to wait for their juicy morsels of moths and bugs while I wait for David to come home. Such simple pleasures.... who needs TV when you have nature’s entertainment right at your front door !!!!! |
| Several years ago, I started to feel tired all the time and any exertion just totally exhausted me. I had lost a lot of weight, and I was walking and jogging almost every day, feeling good. Then I noticed the change. My jogging became walks and my walks became shorter and shorter. I was frustrated as I didn't know what was wrong with me. I decided it must just be due to older age. I had turned 52 and just wasn't a young chicken anymore. But I would notice that there were a lot of women out there, way older than me, jogging and having fun. What's up with that? When the exhaustion started affecting my work, I finally went to the doctor. He did some test, drew some blood and poked and prodded all over. "Come back in two weeks, and I may have an answer for you." So in two weeks I went back and the doctor did some more prodding. I noticed that every where he poked, it hurt like hell ! "Yep." He said. "Just what I thought." He then proceeded to tell me about Fibromyalgia and the muscle pain, cramping and tiredness it causes. He also talked about Polymyalgia Rheumatica. Polymyalgia rheumatica (PMR) is an inflammatory disorder that causes widespread muscle aching and stiffness, primarily in your neck, shoulders, upper arms, thighs and hips. You are one of the few lucky ones who happens to have both of these conditions, he told me. Thank God for small favors !!! Ok, I can live with that, I thought. No big deal. So I am sore all the time and exhausted and feel like I have just run a marathon like The Literary Penguin  did in his blog entry "Invalid Entry"  !Then it really started affecting my work. I worked as the head floor tech at an elementary school in Texas, and one of my jobs was to change lights, paint and whatever else needed to be done that the head custodian couldn’t do during the day when the kids were there. School was out for the holidays, and the head custodian, a good friend of mine, ask me to do the trim work on the hallway we were painting. I have a real steady hand and can do it freehand and fast. Of course I said yes, as I like to paint. I grabbed the ladder, got my small can of paint and brush and went to step up on the first rung of the ladder. I put my foot on the rung and that’s as far as I got. I didn’t have the strength to even step up on the ladder. I looked at Dawn and she asked me if anything was wrong. I told her, yes... there was something wrong, I couldn’t step up. Then I noticed that I couldn’t work a full 8 hours. I would just become exhausted beyond belief. I have a high pain tolerance and reserve, but I couldn’t do my job because of the muscle pain and total exhaustion. Dawn worked with me, and changed my area and responsibilities around so that the job was easier. I was so embarrassed ! I have never, in my whole life, had to be catered to in the job field. I have always held my own, and usually held up a few others also. I loved my job and was always proud of what I could do. I was a fast worker, would get my job done, and then go check on my co-workers, who I was in charge of, and see if they needed help. Now I couldn’t even do my own work and had to give in to a easier position. My condition kept getting worse and the doctor put me on Prednisone. That helped a little. At least with the Prednisone, I could get out of a chair by myself without help, but I was still weak, exhausted and achy all the time. At night I would toss and turn in bed with major muscle cramping in all parts of my body. We have all had the normal leg cramps, or back cramps... but have you ever had a cramp in your throat, or chest? Sometimes my toes or fingers would take on the weirdest contortions because of cramping. I knew that the day was coming, fast, that I would eventually have to quit my job. I just didn’t want to admit it. They were working with me the best they could and had made great concessions to make my work easier, but it wasn’t fair to my co-workers at all. But even the easier work was getting hard to perform. Then we made the move to Missouri. The excitement of the move temporarily made my symptoms easier to live with and I forgot about my illness. Once settled, I got busy trying to find a job. The first morning, I got up, showered, dried my hair and got dressed. All of a sudden, I was exhausted. Oh well. I headed out the door to check out some local businesses and to leave my resume with some of them. By the time I drove into town, parked and walked the half block to the court house, walked up the stairs and found the office I was looking for, I almost couldn’t take another step. My body ached and my legs felt like lead. I was totally exhausted. I turned around and came home and cried. What in the world was I to do? I can’t even get ready for work, let alone work a 8 hour job without being done in for the day. David and I talked and we made the decision that I would apply for disability. I had talked to a couple of other people who had Fibromyalgia and they said that they were eventually able to get on it. I was 56 years old now and would be eligible for retirement in another 6 years, so why not try. I made an appointment and gathered all the information that I needed. I spent the whole day talking to my case worker and filling out paperwork after paperwork. They asked crazy questions like; how many steps can you walk in a day? How many times do you stand up in a day? How many times do you sit down in a day? Do you lift things and how high? How many times do you lift this during the day? How many times do you lift your arms up over your head during the day? Are you able to stand on your toes? For how long? How often do you do this during the day? How in the heck do you answer questions like that? Well, to make a long story shorter.... my case has been open for 6 months now, and I just got the letter through the mail that I have been denied. My case worker told me that 90% of the cases are denied the first time they are presented. The reason they put was that although I have been diagnosed (by their own doctors that they sent me to, along with the reports from my old doctors) with Fibromyalgia and PMR, and they know that this prevents me from doing the work that I am accustomed to, that they feel that I can be a ‘Secretary’. Now I do have good days, when I can actually get out and do something. Most of the time, I head on over to my sisters and play with the horses and work with Scarlett for an hour then visit with my mom. But I pay for it dearly the next day. Just ask David. I can hardly get out of bed, and the bad headaches hit (PMR symptom). So they want me to be a Secretary? Can they find an employer that will allow me to take breaks every 45 minutes or so and lay down for an hour? After 5 hours of work, will they have someone to help me out of my chair or off the commode? When the migraine like headaches attack, will they let me go into a dark room and lay down? I have worked all my life, one and sometimes two jobs at a time. I am not afraid to work and I actually like to get out and work. I love the atmosphere and the people you meet in the work field. I have worked as a secretary before and have to admit it is interesting work. You get to know the business inside-out and the responsibilities are enormous. I loved training horses, the showing, the breeding, the youngsters and the people that I trained for and gave lessons to. I loved working as a head custodian and interacting with the teachers and children. I think the only job I ever really hated was as a phone solicitor for a company selling some gimmick to the general public. That’s the only job I ever just up and quit for no good reason. I have tried here at home, to sit at the computer and edit some of David’s stuff. After an hour, my shoulders ache, my back aches, my legs start to cramp up. I have to get up, move around, take some pain meds and go lay down for a bit. Then I can get up and work for another hour before I have to get up again. I walk out to feed the goats and sometimes I wonder if I will make it back to the house, I am so exhausted. I get so damn frustrated. So anyway, now I have to file an appeal. I have talked to a lawyer already and plan on meeting him soon. He will file the paperwork for me. I don’t need a lawyer, but everyone I have talked to said that your chances of winning are greater if you have a lawyer that specializes in Disability to represent you. The good news is that if they don’t win my case, I don’t owe them a thing. If they do win my case for me, then they get 25% of my retro pay that I would receive. I figure it’s worth that much. The big problem is that the judge’s dockets are so full, that it may take 12 to 18 months before my case gets heard. So anyway, that’s where I am standing on my disability claim and my ‘condition’. What I find fascinating is that I had never heard of Fibromyalgia before, or Polymyalgia Rheumatica. Once I was diagnosed, it seemed like every other person I ran into either knew of someone or is related to someone that had been diagnosed with one of these two conditions. It’s like when you buy a new car, you never notice all the other cars out there just like yours, until you buy one. Oh well, at least I know I’m not alone !!! |
| Well the time has come to come up with an official registered name for our Quarter Horse filly we call Scarlett. The American Quarter Horse Association demands that foals must be registered by their 6 month old birthday. If you wait until after that time, there are some hefty fees to be paid. Scarlett is only 4 months old, but I need to get her papers in. Usually, horses have a registered name and a barn name, something more simple and easy to say. Because she had such a red, shiny coat on her, and in honor of our friend across the pond, we started calling her Scarlett. Now this filly has not been a piece of cake to raise. She came out of her mom kicking. I don’t mean feel good, run around, kick the heels up in the air kicking; I mean, turn her butt and down right kick the crap out of you kind of kicking. I did the imprinting on her like we always have done to our foals. Imprinting is a form of touching and stroking that you do within hours of a foals birth. It has been proven that foals that have been imprinted are a lot easier to work with, and accept human interaction better when actual training begins. You run your hands all over the foal, rubbing their legs, their body, their head. You run your fingers in their mouths and ears, all gently of course. You do this over and over again to let the foal know your scent and to realize that you are not going to hurt them. It is amazing that you could turn this foal out for two years, and when you brought him back in to start training, he would accept you and trust you. Now we don’t turn them out, we continue to work with them on a daily basis rubbing and scratching them, loving on them. We halter them and teach them to lead, stand tied and just have fun interacting with them. Scarlett must not have read the book though. Every time you would get around her, even at a day old, she would whip that butt around and let those hind feet fly. It took time and a few spankings to finally convince her that her kicking was an inappropriate behavior. We would walk out and catch mom and try to lay our hands on Scarlett, and she would turn that rump and we would yell; “Damn It Scarlett !” Well she finally learned and now she will turn her butt to you, but she wants you to scratch it. She loves to be scratched on her belly and her butt. When she was about 4 weeks old, if you read my blog, she stuck her face through the field fencing and just about filleted herself. She peeled the skin off, right down to the bone, from her eyes down to her nose. The large flap of skin was hanging down over her nostrils while she just looked at us in amazement. “Damn It Scarlett !” We muttered. A trip to the vet and 50 stitches later, and now she is all healed up with just a few minor scars to remind us of the accident. Then when she was approximately 9 weeks old, she came up severely lame. Both her front right knee and her back right hock were swollen immensely and she didn’t even want to get up. “Damn It Scarlett !” We exclaimed. “Now what have you done to yourself?” It had rained that night, and apparently she must have been running and goofing around on the hill side and slipped and fell. She pulled the muscles in both of those legs. I had to force her to stand and hosed her legs down with cold water for about an hour. I did this every day along with a dose of Bute (horse pain killer and anti-inflammatory) and the swelling eventually went down after several days and she was able to get around again. My sister and I would be standing there watching the horses, and Scarlett would walk over to the fence, back up to it, and start rubbing her butt as hard as she could. You could just see the fence strain under her weight. “Damn It Scarlett !” We would yell. “Get off the dang fence.” My sister keeps a chair out by her barn so that after feeding in the evening, we can sit and watch as the horses wander back out to their pastures. I don’t know how many times I have gone over there, and the chair was gone. “Damn It Scarlett !” My sister would cry, as she walked out to the pasture to retrieve her chair. Scarlett thought it was a personal play toy just for her pleasure. I can’t count how many times we have mutter “Damn It Scarlett !” throughout the course of the day, as this filly was always testing our reserve. She is a super sweet filly now, loves to be loved on, and is fun to be around.... BUT.... she is always getting either herself or the other horses in trouble. She chases the cats up the trees, and I can hear my sister yell; “Damn It Scarlett !” leave the dang cats alone. She is always pushing herself into tight spots and getting stuck. “Damn It Scarlett !” we cry. “How in the world did you get yourself into this mess?” Well, it just seemed natural to name this boisterous filly “Damn It Scarlett !” But the Quarter Horse Association won’t allow the use of such words. So I think I will put her name down as either “Dang It Scarlett” or “Darn It Scarlett”. Which sounds better to you? Or do you have any other ideas ? |
| Sometimes the animals on the farm get the blunt end of the stick. Lessons learned are not always fun, but a necessity. Take for instance, our little ankle biting dog, Booker. We have a rather large yard for the dogs to play in. There is plenty of space for them to run and chase each other in play. There are some big trees, some fruit trees and some bushes that offer shade on the warm, sunny days. Plus we have an enclosed back porch and we leave the back door open so they can come in and lay down if they so desire. They are also in and out of the house all the time. Are they satisfied with this set up..... HECK NO !! One of the problems lies with our next door neighbors. We have no neighbors across the road from us, and the neighbor to our south is some distance away, but our northern neighbor sits right on the other side of the fence. They are nice people and always holler over when they see us out and about, asking how we are, and what have we been up to, and what are we doing today. David just calls then ‘nosey’ and I sort of agree with him. Jessica is one of the residents that lives in this small cluster of three manufactured homes that consist of the parents and two daughters and Jessie, the granddaugher. Jessica and her mom live in the home closest to us. They are neat and clean people, and as I said, very friendly. I think Jessica is 7 years old now. She is the typical tomboy, in that she loves to climb trees and chase cats and feed our dogs. Oh, did I mention that she is a very spoiled little girl. She is forever calling our dogs over to the fence to pet them. Of course our dogs love all the attention she lavishes on them. In fact, they love it so much that Sherman started jumping the fence to get over there when Jessica was out playing. Now they informed me that they didn’t mind at all. They liked Sherman and all he did was run around and chase the cats with Jessica. That’s all find and dandy, but after Sherman gets tired of that little game, he takes off down the road to newer and better adventures. We live on a small country dirt road, and it’s not very busy, but when cars do happen by... they fly. Most people around here drive fast and don’t give an inch if there is an animal in the road. So one of my fears is that Sherman would get hit by a car and either killed or badly injured. The second fear is that right across the road is a 300 acre cow pasture with 30 or 40 head of cows and calves in it. Now chasing cats is fun, but dang, why chase cats when you have those big cows and calves to chase right across the road. The farmers don’t take to kindly to dogs running their cattle, and are free to pull out the old gun and shoot. I talked to the neighbors and voiced my concerns about Sherman getting out, and if they could, please tell Jessica to quit calling him over to the fence. The moms answer was: “Well you know she just loves that dog, and I don’t think I could stop her from doing that. I will just tell her to pet him through the fence down at the bottom, and not have him jump up on the fence.” That little curve didn’t stop Sherman at all, over the fence he would go. Ok, there are always other solutions, so I went out and bought some wire, insulators and a low charge electrical box. I put up an electric fence all along the top. I told Jessie’s mom and she was aghast that I would so such a thing. “What if Sherman touches it?” She asked. “Won’t it hurt him?” I explained the workings of an electric fence, that it would give him a minor shock, enough to make him respect the fence and stay off of it and to prevent him from jumping it. "It's for his own good." I explained. "I would rather have him receive a minor shock than get shot or killed out on the road. I wouldn't have to do this at all if Jessie had not taught him to jump it." I also warned her to tell Jessie not to reach through the fence and touch it, as it would also teach her to have a healthy respect for the fence. Wow, what an easy fix. Now I didn’t have to worry about Sherman jumping the fence anymore. When I first plugged the box in, I stood and watched and sure enough, Sherman jumped up on the fence, touched the wire and jumped away looking all around to see what in the heck had bit him. We had no further problems until about a month ago. I had let the dogs out, and about an hour later I heard Sassy barking and putting up a fuss. I looked out and there was Sherman AND Booker chasing cats with Jessie next door. “What the HECK.” So I marched over there and grabbed both dogs and brought them home, throwing their butts in the house. I went back out and walked the fence. Lo and Behold..... Sherman didn’t go over the fence... he went UNDER it. Jessie’s mom walked over to the fence and she was telling me how Jessie begged her to buy treats for my dogs and how could she say no to Jessie !!! Easy...... N O So Jessie was handing my dogs treats through the fence. I don’t mind that, but that just made Sherman more determined to find a way over to Jessie’s house, and he did. Of course, since Booker is Sherman’s right hand pup, he followed right along. I put bricks and stones and logs and what ever else I could find along the bottom of the fence, but Sherman would always find another spot to dig under. “OK SHERMAN ..... YOU ASK FOR IT!” I had some left over wire and insulators and I ran a hot wire along the bottom of the fence. This took some hard work, and I had to pull all the weeds and brush away so the wire wouldn’t be shorted out. It took me all afternoon, but I finally got it done. My sister happen to pull up when I was working on it, and she helped me finish it up. I walked over and plugged the fence back in. As I headed back towards my sister and the dogs, I had a quick thought that maybe I should put Booker on a leash, so I can sort of control the first time he hits the fence. He had never felt the charge before since he is so low to the ground and never could jump high enough to touch the top wire. Before I could say anything, Booker ran right up to the wire and his chest hit it. He yelped and must have jumped 2 feet in the air. It was a major surprise for him. That would have been fine, except when a dog jumps into the air, they must come back down. He did............ Right on top of the hot wire. He yelped again and jumped ..... coming right back down on the wire again. This happened several times in a rather quick succession and I was running to the fence to step on the wire and ground it. This would have stopped the charge and let poor Booker get away from it. By the time I got to the fence.... about 10 seconds after the he first felt the sting, he finally jumped clear of the wire and ran yelping all the way to the house and up on the back porch. My sister and I ran to make sure he was ok. He was, the fence is just a low charge and doesn’t burn or leave marks, just a mild electrical sting. I have touched electric fences many times and it just scares the living daylights out of you. I walked back to the fence and watched as both Molly and Sherman checked out the new wire. They both touched it and jumped back, and then turned around and left the area. They know what it means, and will stay away from the fence now. Sassy learns by observation, and I am sure she will never go near the fence after seeing what happened to Booker and watching Mollie and Sherman. Poor Booker, the next time I let him out, he would only go halfway across the yard, and then look way over towards the fence to see if that dang monster was still there. He has finally realized that the only time he gets stung is when he tries to go under the fence, so they are happily running and playing in the yard again. I only have the one side hot wired, so all stay away from there now. As I said, we have a very large yard for them to play in, and they have learned to just stay away from that fence line. Jessie has also refrained from calling them over and enticing them with treats and candy as I think she also touched the wire !! Lesson learned !! I just felt bad that Booker had to learn a lesson the hard way. |
| Yakima, continued.... Thursday we had to start packing for our trip back home. I hated to leave, but was also anxious to get back to my little farm in Missouri. I would love to live in a mountain valley somewhere in the Cascades, but only if we were both retired and financially secure. Some of the little towns we passed were just idyllic, so rustic and charming sitting in quaint little valleys tucked between mountain ridges. It was hard to believe that people actually lived in these beautiful places. How amazing to sit on your front porch and watch the sun set over a snowy peak or listen to a river as it tumbles pass your house. Since our plane was scheduled to depart around 6am in the morning, we decided to take a shuttle bus from Yakima to Seattle and get a hotel room for the night. Richard was on duty again, and we sure didn’t want Lindsey driving us there by herself with the baby. Seattle traffic was a nightmare, and just driving over the pass can be troublesome if weather sets in. Lindsey drove us to the Yakima airport where we caught the shuttle at 5pm. We hugged and said our goodbyes and settled in on the small shuttle bus for the 3 hour ride to SEA-TAK, Seattle’s airport. The bus made several stops along the way, in some of the little towns along the pass. I thought it was neat to get off the main path and traverse these towns and watch the local people. By the time we left the last pick-up station, the little bus was full. It was cloudy going over the Snoqualmie Pass, but it was still beautiful. The clouds hung onto the mountain slopes and sneaked into the small valleys dropping rain as they went. The air smelled fresh with pine scent as the clouds retreated back up the slopes. I had made our hotel reservations with the cheapest hotel at the airport. Since we were only going to be spending a few hours sleeping in the room, I saw no need for anything better. Well, I guess you get what you pay for. After waiting for over 45 minutes for their shuttle to pick us up.... they forgot after I called them to notify them we were there and had to call them a second time, we trudged into our room and just shook our heads. The room was small and old. I don’t think it had been updated since the 60’s. The bed was uncomfortable and they had two little fake pillows to use. The bath towels and washcloths were skimpy and threadbare and the telephone didn’t work. Oh well, by this time it was 10pm and since our plane boarded at 6am, we had to be at the airport no later than 5am. I fell into bed and went soundly to sleep. I had the alarm set for 4am, that would give us time to take quick showers and dress, catching a 4:45 shuttle to the airport. At 3am, the room light brightens the room as David stomps around. “What ever are you doing? We have another hour to sleep.” I mumbled. “I CAN’T SLEEP!” He yelled. “So if you can’t sleep, I can’t sleep?” I questioned. “That’s darn right !” He shot back at me. “Now get up and do something !” Gawd, I rolled my eyes and crawled out of bed. “I guess we could get ready and catch an early shuttle to the airport and grab something to eat.” I suggested. “THAT WOULD BE WONDERFUL.” David sarcastically replied. “SINCE I HAVEN’T ATE ANYTHING SINCE THOSE DINKY HAMBURGERS YESTERDAY AT NOON.” You see, we went out and grabbed some carry out, and David and I ordered hamburgers. They were delicious, but they were really small, sort of like sliders or White Castle. If we had known how small they were, we could have ordered more than one, but it was to far to go back and reorder. So we ate what we had not knowing that it would be our last meal until the next day. So we dress and pack up and catch the shuttle. We arrive at the airport around 4:15 and look for a Kiosk so we could check out luggage. They were all closed. So we head inside and up to the Northwest counters. The counters are dark and no one is around. All the restaurants are after you go through the security check, and we couldn’t do that until we checked our luggage. I walk over to Virgin Airlines next door and am told that Northwest doesn’t open their check-ins until 5am or after. “WHAT A FINE PICKLE YOU HAVE US IN.” Cried David. “NOW WHAT DO WE DO, MISS SMARTY PANTS.” “Simple.” I calmly replied. “WE WAIT.” So we stood in line for almost an hour before the Northwest personel decided to show up for work. Now we had less than 45 minutes to get through security and to our gate. There went a leisurely breakfast. I don’t know how many of you have flown out of SEA-TAK, but it was our first time, and it’s a bit confusing. After going through security, with minor difficulties, we followed the signs to our gate. Down the concourse, take a left, down the stairs, around the corner, on a shuttle train, off the shuttle train, back up the stairs and down another concourse take a right and finally.... our gate. I think we both slept most of the way home. We were worn out and tired beyond belief when we finally departed the plane in Memphis. We collected our luggage and I called for a shuttle from the hotel where we left our car. We waited, and waited. What’s up with these hotel shuttles anyway. After a second call, and a 45 minute wait, we were finally reunited with our car, loaded up and headed home. All I can say is that we made it home safe and sound. I had doubts a few times. You see, David insisted on driving again. I offered, but his excuse was: “I GOT YOU HERE, BY GOLLY I WILL GET YOU HOME !” Can you tell that David is a sort of a grouch when he is tired !! We pulled into our driveway around 5:30 to a bunch of happy dogs, cats, birds and goats. My sister took care of them while we were gone, but they were all happy to see their mommy and daddy. Our bed never felt so good as it did that night. Poor David had to go to work the next day and I don’t think he has fully recovered yet. Here is a picture of Lindsey with Aric. He is 8 weeks old in this picture. He really is a wonderful baby, even sleeping through the night most of the time. I can’t wait for him to come visit Grandpa and Grandma and ride ponies, chase chickens and feed goats. Grandpa can take him fishing, and I can bake his favorite cookies. Grandchildren are grand, aren’t they !!!! ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| Our trip to Yakima continued. We woke up somewhat refreshed and ready to go on Sunday morning. My son had duty that day and had already left the house for his 24 hour stint at the base. He is a Blackhawk helicopter pilot but is flying Huey’s for a Medivac unit at Yakima Training Base for Ft. Lewis. He told Lindsey that he would be flying a special training mission around 3pm that afternoon. David’s youngest son Ricky lives in Yakima and we made plans to meet him for lunch at a wonderful place called “Track 29.” It is located in downtown Yakima and is a series of 22 railcars along with pseudo-victorian buildings that house a variety of shops and stores. Here they have gift stores, jewelry stores, tattooing places, photography shops, craft stores and a couple of nice restaurants. Ricky wanted us to try out Tequila’s Family Restaurant and he made a good choice. I love enchiladas and the two that made up my dinner were scrumptous along with the beans and rice. David and Ricky had a chicken dish that consisted of long strips of chicken cooked along with green peppers and onions in a rich white sauce. They both said it was delicious. I asked the owner of the restaurant what the sauce consisted of and he said it was simply sour cream with a little bit of enchilada sauce mixed in. I am going to try and make the dish tomorrow. Lindsey had a Mexican salad that she said was really good. Aric, being the youngest at 2 months old has his bottle of milk which he was rather pleased with. We caught up on all the events in our lifes since we last saw Ricky while we ate our tasty meals, then headed to the training base. The base is a small post linked to Ft Lewis in Seattle. It consist of a dozen or so barracks for the troops to stay in when they are not out in the field training and the airbase and their hutches. The base resides on 260,000 acres of land and used primary for artillery training and target practice. Because it sits in the high desert, it replicates some of the conditions that our troops find over in Iraq and Afghanistan. There were about 5000 troops in training at that time. It is hard to get use to seeing soldiers walking around with rifles strapped across their chest and in full fighting gear. While we were hanging out in the hooch waiting for Richard to fly, a brush fire was started by some artillery barrages on the other side of the base. We could see the smoke billowing up into the sky on the other side of the ridge. The fire crew start up their helicopter and fill the bucket hanging below it with water and head out to the fire. It was neat to watch them drop the bucket and fill it. Richard walked us over to the helipad and we were able to crawl around on one of the old Hueys. These helicopters are old work horses and have withstood a lot of abuse, surviving Viet Nam some 30 years ago. They are now used in Medivac units and for training. Here is David and Ricky sitting on the Huey. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Ricky had to leave as he had other commitments to attend to and we wished him a farewell. We were going to try to get together with him again before we left. The call finally came for Richard and his crew to fly on out. We got to stand pretty close while they did a precheck of the Huey and then finally started her engines and took off. Lindsey, Aric, David and I loaded into the car and headed home. I have to admit here, that David does have a special touch with babies. Aric was a good baby, but there were times when he was just not a happy camper. He would start fussing or crying and nothing I would do would appease him. David would come over and take him and Aric would quiet right down. Hand him back to me and the crying would start up again. David held him out in front of him and gently rocked him back and forth and Aric would just stare at David, never taking his eyes off of him. Maybe it’s the mustache ! ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** We spent the rest of the evening resting up as our big trip to Mt. Rainier was going to start the next morning. It’s about a 2 or 3 hour drive and we wanted to get an early start. Richard would get home around 8am and after he freshened up, we would be on our way. Mt. Rainer is the highest mountain in the Cascade Range standing 14, 410 feet into the sky. It also has the largest glacier ice of all the mountains in the contiguous United States. These ice fields cover over 36 square miles of land. This makes it one of the most dangerous mountains because of it’s volcanic possibilities. Richard fixed breakfast for us all, a dish of hash browns mixed with sausage, scrambled eggs and cheese. We loaded up the car and headed out for a full day of adventure. Richard took the northern route to get to Mt Rainer National Park, and it was just a breathtaking drive. Canyon after canyon, waterfall after waterfall and mountain peak after mountain peak filled our vision. Around every curve in the road, our mouths fell open with the beauty of the land surrounding us. Pine forest blanketed the skirts of the mountains and then their jagged peaks jutted above the trees and reached for the blue sky. Pictures can’t do it justice. You can’t just see the beauty, you had to be there to feel it. Curve after curve passed us as the road made a continuous climb to higher elevations. Snow filled in crevasses and rivers developed at their base rushing downward to finally meet the sea at some distant point. Alpine wild flowers colored the sides of the roads with brilliant oranges, deep reds, white and soft yellow blooms. You just didn’t know where to look next. Here is a picture of David taking a picture of a mountain meadow below us... ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** We stopped at a little roadside park and ate lunch. There was a thicket of old growth trees called the Grove of the Patriarchs. These trees have stood for over a 1000 years and some of them have reached 25 feet in circumference. In this ancient place, the only hazard is a strained neck when trying to look up into the tree tops. This is a picture of one of the smaller trees that was close to where we ate. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** A few more miles down the road and we pulled over again to hike one of the hundreds of trails in Mt. Rainier National Park. There were not many people around and that made it extra special. This trail was only 1/4 mile long and led us to a beautiful mountain stream as it tumbled down it’s granite path heading down the mountain side. The quietness of the forest and the sound of the rushing water was wonderful. It treated your inner soul to a sweetness not found anywhere else. Lindsey and I stopped at the falls with the baby, and Richard and David did some more trekking deep into the woods and up the waterfall. We met them back at the car about 1/2 hour later. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** We continued our drive deep into the midst of Mt. Rainier National Park and still hadn’t seen the mountain. I don’t know how such a grand summit can hide itself so well. Finally, still 40 miles away from the mountain, it made it’s first appearance. The road curved around a ridge and there it stood like a sentinel, guarding the land below. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Another thirty minutes and we were finally parking at the base of Mt Rainier and trying to take in all its grandeur. As you walk up to the observation deck, you feel intimidated by the mountain. I was also a bit fearful of it as I recognize the havoc it could cause if it erupted. It is a live volcano with many small earthquakes taking place every day. To think that this huge mountain is full of hot lava, boiling and rolling in its bowels is just scary. There are some small steam vents that escape from the mountain and create caves where the climbers can take shelter in. This is where David and Richard decided to go on their own adventure and hike one of the trails that gives you a view of one of the many glaciers that cloak the mountain. Lindsey and I went on up to the observation deck and checked out the climbers that were on the face of the mountain that day. They had the telescopes where you could scan the area and watch as the climbers made their way up and over jagged boulders and snowy peaks. Baby Aric was so good the whole trip. He ate and slept most of the time and only got really mad as we made our way home from this astonishing trip. Oh what memories this trip to the mountain has produced. Richard had to work the next day so we picked up lunch and met him on base to eat. He took us to a secluded small pond somewhere out on the range and we sat in the shade and enjoyed our meal. The weather had been beautiful the whole time, even on our trip to Mt Rainier we were lucky that the sky was clear and fresh. The nights were even a bit on the brisk side and felt really nice. Here is a picture of my son with Aric, my first grandbaby. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** To be continued..... |
| It is so good to be back home. Our trip to Yakima, Washington was wonderful. It was great to see Richard, Lindsey and Aric. We got to meet up with David's son Ricky and had lunch with him, and the Cascade Mountains are just beautiful. But still, it's so nice to be home. We left our house on July 25 and drove to Memphis, TN. I should have known then that things were starting out on the wrong foot when David grabbed the keys out of my hand and said HE was going to do the driving. I took a deep breath and tightened my seat belt down, this was going to be a LONG ride. It's a pretty straight shot to Memphis with just a few minor turns in some small towns. We dropped out of the Ozark foothills and into the flat lands and headed southeast towards Elvis's home. At one point we came upon a signal light with directions pointing in every different direction. I told David that he just needed to go straight. He did, and 50 yards pass the light, the main road curved to the left with a small local road branching off straight ahead. Of course, since I told him he had to go straight, way the heck back there, he just drove off the main road and straight onto this little no-name road that led to someone's driveway ! "Well you said to go straight, didn't you?" He barked. "YES, I did." I replied. "Way back there before the light. Couldn't you see that the main road curved?" I yelled. "YES I did see that the main road curved, but you said to go STRAIGHT !" "I MEANT THAT YOU HAD TO GO STRAIGHT THROUGH THE LIGHT" I huffed. "WELL WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY THAT IN THE FIRST PLACE." He retorted. I just sighed and rolled my eyes as I waved to the people who lived in the house whose driveway we ended up in. He turned around and off we headed in the direction of Memphis. We had 75 miles to go, I tightened my seat belt even more. We crossed the Mississippi River and skirted around downtown and located our hotel just a mile from the airport. We checked into our room and relaxed.... well I tried to relax, David was still grumbling something about going straight. I had watched on both the Travel Channel and the Food Network shows talk about the best restaurants in Memphis. Both of these channels had featured a place called Marlowe's Restaurant and Ribs. I called them and they said they would be there in 20 minutes. I told David that we were going somewhere and a limo was going to pick us up. "A LIMO?" He asked. "YEP." I said. Sure enough, about a half hour later, here comes this big, long PINK limo driving into the hotel parking lot. "Our rides here." I said. "PINK? Oh no, don't tell me we have to ride in that there PINK thang." He cried. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** The chauffeur held our door open and we rode in luxury to eat some of the best barbecue we have ever had. The ribs were meaty with just the right amount of smoky flavoring that was not hindered by the slight sauce bath the ribs had washed on them. We ate until we were hurting, but it was soooooo good. The restaurant is awash in Elvis memorabilia. All the tables had glass tops on them and throughout the years, travelers have left notes of where they were from, tucked up under the glass. It is interesting to read these notes while you wait for your meal. I looked and there was a note from a person from Wyandotte, Michigan; the place I was born. “Oh look, honey.” I exclaimed. “I was born in Wyandotte.” I glanced and right next to it was a note from Livingston, Texas; the place David was born. “Look !” I cried. “Here is one from Livingston!” How unique that here we sit, in Memphis, eating at a restaurant and there right before us were two notes, among several dozen, sitting right next to each other, from the same towns we were born in. Was it an omen? The limo took us back to our hotel room and we settled in awaiting the continuing saga of our trip to Seattle, Washington. We caught our flight with no mishaps. I was walking on eggshells the whole time, but we sailed through the check points and onto the plane and before long, we were flying northwest, towards the city of Seattle, home of the Space Needle and the Seattle Mariners. The land flattened out as we flew over Kansas and into the eastern part of Colorado and Wyoming. Then we crossed the Rockies and the Tetons. As we flew along the Cascades, we could see a mountain that rose high above the rest and capped in snow. “That must be Mt. Rainier.” I said as we gawked out the window. You could see other snow covered mountains off in the distance, rising over the ridges and peaks. The one directly to our left was definitely the highest amongst them. “Yes, that has to be Rainier.” I told David. I returned to reading my book, and a few minutes later, David tapped me on my arm. “Look.” He quietly whispered. I looked out the window, and there was the biggest dang mountain I had ever seen. It rose up ABOVE the plane we were riding in. The sight of it took my breath away. It was a granite monster, covered in white. “OK, THAT IS RAINIER.” I exclaimed. I lowered my head and looked through the window at the peak. The sky was clear and blue and the mountain rose from the earth and seemed to paint the sky with it’s presence. I was still in awe when the plane landed at SEA-TAC a half hour later. Richard, Lindsey and Aric met us down at the baggage pickup and we loaded up the car and headed to Yakima. The drive over Snoqualmie Pass was just stunning. I have seen a lot of mountain ranges, but the Cascades have to the most impressive range I have ever seen. Tall, jagged peaks holding the sky up over small towns nestled in forested valleys with rivers running wild over walls of granite. We stopped at one of a dozen or so waterfalls that we passed. Snoqualmie falls is one of the most visited waterfalls in the state and it deserves to be. It is stunning to watch as the water cascades down the 268 foot granite face and tumbles into the river below. We were up at the top of the falls and they have a little viewing deck that hangs out over the river. The first time I walked out to the railing and looked down, I got dizzy and had to step back. I took a deep breath and walked to the edge again, and this time I was able to look down at the river raging below. Down stream a bit, the river widens out, and there is a trail you can take that puts you at the rivers edge. From our observation point, you could just barely make out the people playing on the boulders and rocks along the shore. I would have loved to take the trek down, but I knew I would never make it back up so we headed back to the car to continue on our way to Yakima. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** As we came over the pass, you could see the change in scenery. As the weather fronts come off the Pacific Ocean, they drop rain on Seattle and then head up the face of the Cascade Mountain Range. As they rise, the moisture is loss and rain falls on the western slopes which are lush and forested. Once the front moves over the peaks and heads down the eastern face of the mountains, there is no moisture left. As we traveled down into Yakima, the surrounding countryside was brown and burnt. Richard turned off Hwy. 90 and took the Canyon Road the rest of the way in. This road follows the Yakima River through miles and miles of canyon walls and cliffs. The river was running fast over rocks and boulders and was so enticing., you just wanted to get a kayak or tube and flow with the current through these canyon walls. We saw a large herd of elk grazing on the side of one of the hills, and further down I saw three mountain goats climbing along the rocky cliffs just on the other side of the river. It truly was a beautiful drive. We finally pulled into the driveway of Richard and Lindsey’s house. We unloaded the car and stumbled onto the couch and chairs, exhausted but awed by what we had just seen. To be continued..... |
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