The View

There's lots of talk about Rosie and the View, but that's not the view I'm talking about today. No, Vicki over at Catching Light has requested a view from the front door. And, just because she's nosy, from the back door as well. It is obviously not enough for Vicki to see breathtaking photos of slug weddings, dogs eating horse poop and super creepy things from Brigget's barn loft. She wants to know what's outside my doors.

Well, be prepared to be shocked...

...because everything here is normal. Peaceful. Tranquil. A place where one may come to relax and enjoy all of God's creation. It's spring, maple trees are full of new leaf, the apple trees heavy with blossoms. Fragrant spring bulbs have worked their way up (finally) after a long, winter's slumber.

Apple blossoms have a light, sweet fragrance.

Open the front door, and this is what you see. The porch, a small red maple, and my driveway.

Step out onto the porch and peek around the railing. There are my daylilies, not quite ready to bloom. City Boy has just mown the yard; doesn't it look good? Off in the distance is the pasture, and across the road one of the many small foot hills that separate us from Mount Baker.

Uh...this is Darling, wearing her pink poodle pajama bottoms and her mother's sweatshirt. Yes, the little shoe thief has taken to stealing my clothes these days. She also seems to think it funny to jump out in front of the camera lens unexpectedly. I shall count this as my cardio-vascular exercise for the day.

Let's step out back, shall we? My father built Little Hitler and I the loveliest arbors! Originally we'd hoped to have a small stream trickling underneath it, but that hasn't happened. I'd like to plant a climbing rose over it, but City Boy isn't fond of the thought of getting scratched up while mowing.

Carpenter Creek is just beyond those trees, and it is this direction that our Homeland Security team spends most of it's time patrolling. It's coyote season right now, so the dogs are constantly on guard.

Chief of Security, Rufus, sits on the patio. Like the rest of his team, he's always on guard. Beyond the patio, to the north, sits my pick up. You can see just a hint of the barn and paddock.

Er...speaking of Homeland Security...seems Tait has found a predator in the bottom of a plastic bag. No wonder Rufus appears so disgusted in the above photo!

Yes, things are pretty peaceful here at Carpenter Creek, as long as you don't mind the 2 am rooster crow...

Or The Screamer insisting that it's feeding time as soon as she sees you walk out of the house (I do believe she picked up the tax cries from the sheep!)...

Yes, tranquil, peaceful, relaxing...nothing odd or out of place around here. Nothing creepy...nothing weird. Bet you didn't expect that, did you?

What's that?

Oh, sure! Bring that up, why don't you! Yeah, yeah...there's a skull hanging outside my back door. But, hey, it's a good fifteen feet from the house. And you can only see it from the sliding door in the rec room. Vicki never said which back door the view had to be from...

Random Silliness

Happy Birthday, Lanky Hanky!

Today is Lanky Hanky's birthday. Darling and I took her to the cemetery to celebrate. We feel it's important to do things on one's birthday that one will be able to look back on later in life and say "Gee, that was warped". Lanky Hanky, thanks to us, will be able to do that.

Lanky Hanky and Darling exchange a hug.
This is a birthday she will long remember!

Lanky Hanky is taller than Darling!

Lanky is the older sister of Miss Banana Head, and the younger sibling of Trouble. She is also more than a full year younger than Darling. Which why we're puzzled as to the size difference between the two. Lanky's mother is Little Hitler, who is a good four inches shorter than I am. Both City Boy and Lanky's father are about the same height. So how did Lanky grow so tall?

While at the cemetery, we pondered nicknames for Lanky. Darling suggested Skinnie Winnie. Lanky nearly fell of the tailgate of the truck laughing. No, she didn't think that was a good one. Hmmmm...how about Thin Min? No, that wasn't going to cut the mustard either. Darling sighed...Lanky Hanky? Another outburst of laughter from Lanky. "It's all about the rhyme with you, isn't it?" she asked Darling. "Yes. The rhyme an the fact that you're too skinny."

And that is how Lanky Hanky got her nickname. It was just one step above Skinnie Winnie, and as it's Lanky's birthday, we allowed her that one small token as a gift. However, it still doesn't answer the question of how she got so tall.

But I swear...it'll never happen again!

Dodson's IGA

We live in between towns. And by towns, perhaps I ought to clarify. One is a city; it comes complete with a mall and I-5 running through it's center. The other is...well...a hick town. Don't get me wrong, there's nothing the matter with a hick town. In fact, Darling is ready to move there.

The hick town in question has all the amenities one could want. At least, according to Darling. There's a post office, a gas station, a casino. I've never seen a fire truck there, but we did see Hick Town police officers dining at the greasy spoon, so there must be a police department. I'm not sure why they'd need more than just a few officers because the town is only five blocks long. I think Barney Fife could handle the job most days.

Darling loves hick towns. Darling loves Dodson's IGA even more!

Aside from these amenities, there is the grocery store. Dodson's IGA. Dodson's has been doing business out there for something like 100 years. Or maybe that's just how old the founder is? They have everything you could want at Dodson's. Need to pick up the makings for a salad? They've got the goods. Got a late night craving for some ice cream? No problem, their freezer is stocked with dozens of varieties. Need to dig a trench? You'll find shovels at Dodson's.

Darling loves Dodson's; she insists on stopping there nearly every afternoon after school. They've got a terrific selection of soft drinks there, and not just the kind in a can, either. No, you can get the real fancy stuff that comes in a glass bottle!

A couple months ago Darling and I decided we wanted to make some cheese. Trouble was, we didn't have any cheese cloth. I had to decide...did I want to run into the city? Or drive out to Dodson's and risk them not carrying cheese cloth. Darling looked at me like I was insane. Of course Dodson's would have cheese cloth, she insisted. So out we drove. We looked all over the bloomin' store for the cheese cloth. I couldn't figure out where they'd put it; the store isn't organized like your usual grocery. Then again, your usual grocery doesn't carry shovels. We finally asked, and found the cheese cloth in the tool isle. If you ever stop there and need cheese cloth, you'll find it next to the paint brushes, just beneath the screw drivers. Should you be an electrician, Dodson's will carry tape for you. I think it's next to the produce. Duct tape? Across from the jam. Or somewhere in that area.

The other day Darling and I stopped to grab a bag of chips on our way through Hick Town. "I wonder where they keep the chips?" asked Darling. "Probably across from the pitch forks, " I said with a chuckle. Darling nodded, "Makes sense." I'm not sure how it made sense. I had no clue where the pitchforks were, but Darling headed down the isle, found the pitchforks and did an about face. Potato Chips! Darling smiled, and said, "Mom, can we get a pitchfork while we're here?"

And to be honest, I never thought I'd be buying a pitchfork at the grocery store...but hey, it's a Hick Town!

That Never Happened...

Congratulations, Rachelle, on your winning entry in the photo contest! Winter Whiskers, it is!

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Darling cut her own hair!

I'm the queen of 'That Never Happened'. Really, I am. I never snorted boogers all over people while on a first date. I never dropped my cell phone in a public toilet and got caught fishing it out. And I certainly never go outside where truck drives can see me in my flannel pj's walking barefoot through muddy horse paddocks. No...these things never happened. Never.

Darling and Rufus

Today turned out to be quite lovely, despite the snow on the hill and chilly air. Darling and I decided to bring the dogs into town and walk along the old railroad tracks through Whatcom Falls Park. It's a lovely place; so picturesque and tranquil.

Now, I've not mentioned it before, but Darling has a habit of running into things. Little things, like walls, for instance. Fortunately for her, there were no walls out in the park. Unfortunately for her, there were trees. "That never happened," she said. That's Darling's second most favorite phrase. As I told her this afternoon, half of her life hasn't happened. She has no idea what I'm talking about, pleading complete ignorance. I really have no idea where she comes by such denial.

Someone is walking backwards...
Either the dogs are very talented, or perhaps it just never happened...


Hurry! She's old, we can outrun her!

While we're on the subject of Darling's favorite phrases...her most favoritist (is that a real word? The Grammar Nazi will come for me if it isn't) phrase is, "I was adopted, wasn't I. Please tell me I was adopted." I'm not really sure why she'd think that. We've always been very honest with Darling in terms of where she came from. Some years ago we sat her down and told her that, when a mommy and daddy love each other very much, they call the travelling pig gypsies who always have a supply of extra children. Pig Gypsies are always willing to barter a bit, so we traded a shiny bottle cap to them in exchange for a new daughter. To which Darling responded, "I was adopted."

Young Redwinged Blackbird pulls seeds from cattails growing in the pond.

Our walk this afternoon, as I mentioned, was along the old railroad tracks. Prior to entering the park, they travel past Scudders Pond, a gloriously swampy piece of water full of cattails, bullfrogs and mosquitoes. I told Darling how one early morning I'd decided to go for a stroll along this same trail. It was something like 6 am, probably not the safest time for a young woman to be out walking alone. That thought hadn't occurred to me until I'd been out there for half an hour and noticed that the only people I was meeting were a handful of male joggers. I was beginning to get just a bit nervous, imagining the worst each time I heard their crunching footsteps approaching me from behind. I'm sure they noticed my jumpiness, too, as I'd turn quickly around so as to get a good look at their faces just in case I lived through the attack.

My heart was racing by the time I was out of the woods and back alongside the pond. But I knew I was within sight of the apartments across the pond now; surely someone would be up and hear my screams should worse come to worse. Just as I was letting that thought slip through my head, my fears were realized. I was attacked from behind! I let out a scream; I'd been hit on the top of my head! I fell forward, the palms of my hands hitting the gravelled trail. I recall wondering briefly why I hadn't heard them come up behind me...

Quickly I attempted getting up to flee...or fight... Do you know how awkward it is to turn gracefully when you're on all fours and facing downward? Breathlessly I got up, but there was no one to be seen. I looked around. And then it happened again. Thwunk!!! On the top of my head!! What the heck??

That's when I heard the squawking and chiding from a tree above me... There sat a red winged blackbird, thoroughly ticked off at my hot pink headband!

Oh, sure, they look innocent enough...

I brushed the bits of embedded gravel from my hands, straightened my sweater and looked nervously around to see if there were any witnesses. Thankfully, there were no joggers at the moment. Hopefully, no one was awake over in those apartments to have seen what had just happened. Imagine, being attacked by a silly little bird and having it drive you right down to the ground.

But of course...That Never Happened!


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Now, a quick Taffy update! Here's what she's looking like from behind. Her udder is filling up, but we're not there yet.

Could this be considered Sheep Porn?
(Oh, never mind me...I'm up way past my bedtime!)

Photographs

Pink Rose from a wedding bouquet.

I've become quite envious of some of the photos I've been seeing out in blogland of late, so tonight I attempted to play a bit with Adobe Photo Shop a bit more. I've come to a conclusion...I ought to just hire it done! There is such a huge margin between what I'd like to do and what I do, that I get frustrated.

Okay, so I've only been at this photo shop thing a couple of weeks. But I've been looking at the loveliest photos of horses, and their manes are simply floating in front of a black background. Now, that background wasn't black to being with, so someone had to come along and do the whole editing and layering thing.

Inspired, I pulled up a photo of Quiet Storm. She has this annoying habit of sticking her nose into my camera lens whenever it passes by. So, being the sort to make lemonade when I'm handed lemons, I decided tonight to fiddle with one of the famous eyeball shots.

Here's the first shot. Her nose is right alongside the lens, no doubt wondering why I haven't brought her a treat. She refuses to stand even two feet from the camera. Some wild horse she's turned out to be!

Below is my shoddy attempt at deleting the yucky barnyard background and putting in a sophisticated black. Um...yeah...well, it could use some work. I like that long eyelash that comes down beneath her eye; I managed not to botch that one up so bad. But there's still something not quite right, and I'm not liking the hair up near the ear. Perhaps I'll take the black in a little closer to the eye and see how that looks...but not tonight, as I'm half blind just from this.

Another one I've been working on tonight is of Sunny. This has been twitched in a couple of different ways... It's been cropped way down, I changed out the background and then created a painted look using a tool called 'dry brush.' I also played with the lighting angle. Actually, I rather like this one. Giving it the painted look covers up a multitude of photo shop sins!

Well, that's it for now. Darling isn't feeling so well tonight; she's got a migraine. It used to be she'd get them all the time, but we got this little blue wonder pill for her. Her pediatrician gave us three refills, but since they hadn't come very often the past few years, it took her three years to use up that one bottle.

Now she's out, and the pharmacy won't refill it because it's been so long. And to make things more difficult, her pediatrician retired! We tried last month to get a refill, but even though it was the same clinic, no one would call us back. So tomorrow I'm going to call the naturalpath and have him do it for us. I'm guessing Darling won't be going to school; she used to get terribly sick with these headaches. (Amazing how the headaches stopped when she started homeschooling, and now they've started again when she's back in school...coincidence? Guess we'll find out as time goes on!)

And the Winner Is...

I'm so glad y'all have stopped in this past week to read the silly things I've written. I'm wondering how many of you will disappear now that you've realized there's no free beer?

But there is a winner. Darling and I sat here writing down the names of all those who've posted comments, then we folded them and she brought out a hat into which we deposited them. We wanted this to be a family affair, so Darling called the Grammar Nazi in to draw the name. He was just reaching in, when he had a swell idea (or so he said), and he called Tait the Australian Shepherd over.

Tait had nothing better to do, he said, although Tait disagreed. She'd been barking at Rufus, no doubt discussing tomorrow's security plans, as she'd been a bit concerned today about the neighbor dogs. Plus, there'd been several bicycles going up the road these past couple of days and she's been convinced they need herding. Of course you and I know that bicycles don't herd well, and Rufus was just explaining this to her when the Grammar Nazi called her away.

So anyway, the hat was handed to Tait, who promptly stuck in her snout and pulled up a mouth full of paper...lots of paper. Not just one name, but several! No, no, you don't all win, sorry. Darling and GN began pulling the wet, slobbery slips of paper out of Tait's mouth, determined to narrow things down from those she'd selected when they realized she still had one in her mouth.

Obviously, she'd spit out those of you she didn't like. And who did she feel the need to continue savoring inside that wet puppy mouth? Why, it was Laura, aka 2LMZ Farms! So congratulations, Laura, and I promise that we won't let Tait taste the soap!