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...

Who you callin' Weird???

Shabby in the City tagged me. Seven weird things, she says, I must post about myself. Oh, please! The agony of attempting to select just seven! But here is just a taste...


7) When I say I'm a cowgirl, I mean just that. I learned to ride on the back of a Guernsey milk cow. Nothing like riding a cow. You can trust me on that.


6) I like pickles with my peanut butter. I've written to M&M/Mars several times asking for a candy with pickles and peanut butter, sort of an alternative to the Reese's candies, but they continually turn me down. I don't know why...doesn't everyone enjoy that combination? mmmm...pickles dipped in peanut butter...


5) I learned to speak pig Latin when I was nine. Not terribly unusual on it's own, I suppose...however...I came home from school and neither of my parents were home. I don't recall where they were...there was probably a note saying they'd stepped out to a neighbors or something. Shortly after I arrived there was a knock on the door. I answered it to find a warthog. Not just any warthog. This one was my uncle. Uncle Warthog. And while we waited together for my parents to come back home, he taught me to speak pig Latin. I'll bet none of you learned pig Latin from a warthog.


4) My uncle is a warthog.


3) I'm the official photographer in this county for slug weddings. No, really! The pay isn't great, but the dandelions are fairly tasty as long as you get to them before Uncle Sylvester.


2) When stores ask me for my zip code, I give them someone else's.


1) There's not much I enjoy more than a good, creepy cemetery! If it's got an angel with glowing eyes? All the better...

I swear her eyes glow at night! Really!

Soooo....now I'm supposed to tag seven others. But you know what? I'm not going to play the game. Well...not quite in the same fashion. I mean, the weird thing has been travelling around like a virus, and I think it's time to morph! So instead of seven weird things...

I'm going to hand out boogers. And this will be played like the thinking blog tag, but instead of blogs that make you think, you'll need to tag three blogs that make you laugh. Laugh enough for boogers! Which of course is somewhat weird, so it does fit rather nicely after all. And the best part is, you don't really have to think (about how weird you are or anything else!)

And here are my three little boogers for today:

Blind As A Bat. That would be Beth. She loves to laugh. She loves to laugh at herself. It says so in her profile, so it must be true. Plus, I'm pretty certain she's caused a snort or two in me over the past couple months. Trot on over and wish her little boy a belated happy birthday!

Catching Light. This is Vicki's blog. When I first 'met' Vicki, I realized we had a lot in common. We both blog. We both take pictures. We both have horses. Both of us are women. Women with children. We are also both Christians. However, the similarities end there, because unlike Vicki, I've never been to a sex shop. And if I had been? I seriously doubt I'd tell the world about it on my blog. Okay, maybe I would, but I've never been. Vicki, however, has both been and posted about it. And when I read about it? Well, booger worthy if anything ever was.

Dan's Blah Blah Blog. Okay, I tagged Dan a few weeks ago for the Thinkers Blog. Like me, he complained of the pain involved in thinking. Like me, he wished he didn't have to think. And yes I think my husband is the sexiest, best man in the whole world!!!

Wait! I didn't type that! My husband has nothing to do with Dan! Sheesh, step away from the keyboard for a moment and City Boy takes over...

Okay, back to Dan. Dan is funny. But not as funny as his cat. Go check out Dan's cat, Lulu. Poor Lulu is is hopelessly abused, and somehow she found a way to express herself on Dan's blog this week. And she hasn't even got opposable thumbs! Way to go, Lulu! You get a booger for your effort at the keyboard. (PS...my cats made me give the last booger to Lulu!)

Now...all three of you little boogers must find three more booger worthy blogs and pass it on... Hey, look at it this way, you're at the top of the booger pyramid! You don't have to worry about handing it out to someone who's received twelve dozen of these stinking awards already!

Taxes and Weddings

Who...me?

Those bad sheep are at it again!

I brought the ewes and their lambs down to the neighbor's pasture where they ought to be able to graze contentedly for the next month or even two without griping. But do they appreciate it? No. Yesterday I donned by favorite Farm Diva outfit (but I did put on pants this time) and walked down around the corner to check on them. On the way, I spotted a wedding, and thought to myself I'd better get some pictures! But first, I needed to check on the sheep.

I got to the crest of the hill and what did I see? My tax collectors are all loose! On the road!!! Four ewes, three lambs, all out for a walk and insisting that they be paid taxes from everyone's lawns! Baaaaaaad girls. I was going to take a picture, but I could hear a car behind me somewhere, so decided I'd better scoot down to the bottom of the hill pretty quick.

When the tax collectors saw me, they began bellowing out loudly for popcorn. That's become their favorite tax, and they'll knock you down and tap dance on your head if you haven't got any with you. Fortunately, I had a small bag left over from the day before in my pocket (I'd cheated on my taxes, don't tell the girls!) They ran wildly up to me and followed me back into their pasture, where I spent a great deal of time trying to figure out exactly where they'd escaped from and fixing up the fence.

We're not baaa-aaad! We just sound that way!

Thankfully, the wedding was still in progress when I walked back home. I just couldn't resist snapping a few shots of the happy couple and their guests! Thankfully, they were kind enough to allow me to post their photos here for you to enjoy.

The happy couple. The bride is wearing a lovely cherry blossom gown.

Their families traveled for feet, sometimes even yards away to attend the wedding feast.

Uncle Sylvester loved the fresh flowers, but what he really wanted was dandilion wine.

I know...I need to get a life.

I found out yesterday I've been tagged! Seven wierd things about me. Gee...where do I start? Well, since this post is already done for today, I guess I'll wait until tomorrow to divulge a few wierd facts. Not that you probably haven't figured a few of them out just from today's post alone...

I got Sunshine on a Cloudy Day....

Sun Storm

Remember Sunny? My recently adopted mustang filly? She was delivered on Superbowl Sunday, and she was a mess. Covered in lice and scared half silly.

Sunny had been adopted the same weekend Darling and I adopted Quiet Storm eleven months ago. Her owners lost their home and moved out of state, relinquishing both of the two year old horses they'd adopted back in June. One was a gelding, the other was Sunny. I just had to share with you her before and after pictures!

Before... all shaggy, and checking out the scary chair!

Today...shedding out and showing a bit of shoulder muscle!

Before...notice the patches of hair missing; this is due to lice.

Today! We're still battling lice, but it's no where near as bad.
See the white line on her neck? That's her BLM freeze brand.

After three months here, Sunny still can't be allowed to roam without a halter and lead rope. She doesn't want to be caught, and she doesn't want to be touched. She just wants to be left alone (she does a terrific Greta Garbo!)

People often ask if these horses are at least halter broke when you adopt them. I find myself explaining time and time again..."Wild means wild. Take the size of a deer or an elk, and put the fright and flight factor of a wild rabbit onto it...do you think you'd be able to lead either one of those animals around with a halter?"

The answer is no. It should be a quick and easy no, but some folks have to ponder it a bit more, forcing me to go deeper. "Have you ever tried to catch a wild rabbit on foot? Did you succeed? And if you did, were you able to put a harness on it and take it for a walk?" Usually, they haven't succeeded in catching it. Those that have were left bleeding without ever attempting to take their newly caught wild rabbit for a walk. It's at this point they get it. Wild horses are wild. And big.

I can see the resemblance, can't you?

Not that I mean to call Ms. Garbo a horse face...I just happen to think Sunny is beautiful!

Now, playing with my pretty pony isn't all that I've done today. Nope. I also went to a wedding. But hey, can't keep you here all day, can I? So those photos and the story that goes with them will have to wait until tomorrow =)

Later, Gator!