My Little Bit of Heaven

Cursing Cat

2012-01-26T08:02:00.004-06:00


anthropomorphize [an-thruh-puh-mawr-fahyz]— vb
	to attribute or ascribe human form or behaviour to (a god,animal, object, etc)

First, let me make it clear that I can not say "Anthropomorphize" on the first try.

Seldom on the second try.

In fact, I have to see that word to be able to say it at all.

The way the letters are arranged, it wants to roll off my tongue as "Anthro PRO morphize", and not "Anthro PO morphize".

Who cares really?

I just needed to give the definition of how we tend to make our animals have human feelings and characteristics to explain their behavior.

I guess that only makes sense, seeing as how we're human and all.

It makes us think our animals understand us, and that we understand them.

Or not.

Mostly, not.

If you had been in the room when the picture above was taken, you'd have clearly heard Hobbes saying, "Who ate all the $#@* icecream!!"

He does a lot of cussing these days.

He is, after all, about 14 in human years.

A teenager.

While lacking the testosterone to back up his behavior, he is a snot.

A pillbug.

A brat.

A pain-in-the-tookus.

He picks fights with the dogs who outweigh him by 40 pounds and have infinitely larger mouths.

He bites, but doesn't draw blood, on those that wish to shower him with affection at a time he deems inappropriate.

He stalks the young lady cat from across the street. She dismisses him every. single. time.

He chases, but cannot catch the cheeky squirrels.

He does as he is asked (comes inside at dusk), but marches around the house in a snit for at least an hour afterward.

Often, the snit is accompanied by cursing.

Long, drawn-out, deep meowing to anyone within earshot--including dogs.

See, anthropomorphizing at its best.

Cats can't even talk, so how can they curse?

Anyone who has ever owned a teenaged cat, will attest to the fact that they do, indeed, curse.

"Who ate all the $#@* icecream!!"

Many Faces of the Birthday Boy

2012-01-25T09:18:00.004-06:00

Yesterday, my first born turned 20 years old.

I don't know how that's possible, since I'm only about 30.

Well, maybe I'm closer to 40.

Or 50.

Anyway, we celebrated.

We have a favorite pizza place that always ends up being the go-to place for birthdays.

Afterwards, we came home to eat the amazing homemade, triple layer German chocolate cake. James and Grandma created it with love, as they always do.

It also happens that Tom bought his first car last weekend. A '99 Ford Taurus.

It's a long way from his dream car, but "dream car" and "first car" seldom come at the same time in life.

It's in amazingly good shape mechanically and physically for its age.

He asked for money for a gift this year and that's exactly what he got.

Turns out buying your own car, tax/title/license, and a few other must-haves (jumper cables, extra oil for the slight oil leak, a tire gauge, etc.) can put drain on the bank account.

Happy Birthday, Tom!

I hope it was a good one for you!

I can't believe that it's been 20 years, but time flies when you're having fun.

By The Hundreds

2012-01-20T08:31:00.004-06:00

This is a map of American Robin sightings on Christmas day.

I didn't participate in this study, but I could have.

I haven't thought about Robins much since I moved from Missouri to Texas.

http://www.nenature.com/AmericanRobin.htm#map

We don't see very many Robins in central Texas.

Even in the winter when our temperatures are more....temperate.

Robins are invertebrate (bugs, larvae and worms) and fruit/berry eaters.

We may see one or two as the winter progresses, but never more than that.

This year, something has changed.

We see hundreds of Robins every single day.

They fly over in large flocks.

They stop in large flocks.

My pasture is littered with red-breasted birds, hopping, eating, and calling.

But why?

Why this year and never before?

I've lived in central Texas for 23 years and never seen anything like it.

Could it be our unseasonably warm temperatures?

It makes sense, but research tells me otherwise.

It seems that most migratory birds aren't necessarily trying to escape cold temperatures, they are trying to find food.

That's why you'll find Robins in Central Park in January.

They can stand the cold, they just have to be able to find food.

But we've always had food.

Despite our horrid summer, many of the bushes/trees in our area put on berries. My pyracantha and hollys are full of berries.

Normally, the Cedar Waxwings will come through and strip a bush in a day or so.

That can't be it.

I'm thinking it's the bugs.

The Robins have spent their time in my pasture and not my berried bushes.

We've gotten a few inches of rain in the last 2 months and had crazy warm temperatures.

Those two things rarely happen at the same time during our winters (rain and warm).

The bugs seem to think it's springtime.

In fact, most every plant and animal is confused.

The bluebirds are checking out the bluebird house.

The chickens are laying again.

A few trees have started to bud.

There are more than my fair share of flies in the house.

The grass is beginning to green up a bit.

Unfortunately, one hard cold front and all those things will change.

I always feel so sorry for the animals.

It must be so confusing.

Folks always talk about the weather.

Always have.

Around here, folks are wondering if our incredibly warm winter is a precursor to another summer of triple digit temperatures.

In any case, I've enjoyed seeing a bird I loved as a child.

I'd forgotten how sassy and funny they can be.

At least this weather is benefiting the birds.

For now.

Unaware We Were Playing a Game

2012-01-18T14:05:00.002-06:00

Do you see anything?

How about now?

I'm sure you do now.

Eggs. Chicken eggs.

Twenty-two chicken eggs.

Twenty-two old chicken eggs.

Evidently, sometime last summer, my hens started a game of hide-and-go-seek.

They failed to tell me.

I Don't Hate All Men

2012-01-14T08:43:00.002-06:00

Just this one.

Well, it's not really a man, but it is the male of its species.

This is the male Ash Juniper aka Mountain Cedar.

You can read all about it here.

Here is his female counterpart.

She is lovely and evergreen and provides berries for wildlife. Especially migratory fruit-eating birds.

She provides erosion control and nesting sites and nesting materials.

She provides shade where other trees cannot survive.

Her only enemies are fire, chainsaws and bulldozers.

But can't the male tree do all those things too?

Yes, he can, but he also does one extra thing that I hate.

One extra thing that thousands (perhaps hundreds of thousands) of people hate as well.

He pollinates.

He pollinates in a big way.

Central Texas is home to millions and millions of these trees. They grow up to 30 feet tall.

Every winter, usually just after Christmas, he and his fellow trees begin their quest to pollinate as many female trees as possible.

They do it with gusto.

Overkill is another word that comes to mind.

Two days ago, the pollen count was 5629gr/m3/High

What does that mean?

It means that 5,629 grains of pollen were counted in a cubic meter of air. That count is considered "High"

The thing is, they're only getting started.

The picture at the top is of a tree on my neighbor's property. The things that look like teeny, tiny pine cones are pollen that haven't "popped" yet.

But why all the fuss? Why do I hate this tree?

Because it makes me miserable in a very big way.

It makes nearly half of everyone it encounters, miserable.

Around here, it's called "Cedar Fever".

Itchy, runny, swollen eyes.

Respiratory problems.

Sneezing fits, followed closely by a plugged up nasal system.

The inside of my nose feels just as I would imagine it would feel if I snorted Tabasco sauce.

The outside of my nose becomes raw, despite my using those tissues that are infused with lotion.

I get sinus headaches bad enough to send me to bed.

I have to breathe with my mouth open, because my nose doesn't work.

I end up with a dry mouth and dog breath from doing all that mouth breathing.

I get achy, and whiney, and grouchy.

It's an allergic reaction that Zyrtec, Claritin, and Allegra won't touch.

Benedryl works, but taking a nap while driving your kids home from school is frowned up by most folks.

Central Texas becomes a town of zombie-like humans. Mouths agape, noses running, swollen eyes and brain fogged. Everyone is running on low sleep, too much OTC medication and lack of oxygen.

It is the price we all pay for living here.

Luckily for all of us, the pollen is often done with its lovemaking by mid-February.

Just in time for Valentine's day, when we begin our own lovemaking.

Until then, we suffer.

If you have business with someone from Central Texas this time of year, and they seem a little off, blame it on the Cedar.

Specifically, the male Cedar trees.

Men!

Office Assistant Misunderstands Signage

2012-01-11T08:47:00.005-06:00

Did you ever have one of those horrifying moments when you realize you had walked into the wrong bathroom?

Men into Ladies room or Ladies into the Mens room?

Often, restaurants will try to follow a theme and end up making your choice of bathrooms confusing.

Inboard and Outboard motors.--this assumes you even know what those motors look like in the first place. Then there's the biology lesson.

The signs for male and female.--goodness knows, I can't remember which is which.

The name in another language.--I know Spanish and that's it. Any other language and I'm left wondering.

Hippies with braids and Hippies without braids.--I've seen men and women wearing braids in Austin. This sign is no help at all.

What all those signs do is cause me to have to stop and think.

Not what I want to do when I'm searching for a bathroom.

One restaurant (Macaroni Grill) even goes so far as to confuse me when I am washing my hands and ready to leave. They have the opposite sex label on the inside of the door. In the ladies room, the back of the door has "Mens room" on it. I suppose it's possible that they print it that way so they can hang the doors as they please, depending on how the restaurant is set up. Mostly, it just makes me question their concept of humor.

I'm sure there must be a camera pointed just at the door to take pictures of people's reaction and them looking around wildly to be sure they are in the correct bathroom.

Misunderstanding signs is not only for the human population.

Take my office assistant, Hobbes here.

He is clearly laying on a bed marked with a pawprint for "Dogs".

He's even pointing to it. He seems not to care that he is in a bed made for dogs.

In fact, it may be that he purposefully laid down and took a nap, despite the signage to the contrary.

You see in Hobbes world, all thing belong to him. The rest of us only get to borrow the things that belong to him. Hobbes clearly knows the difference between cat and dog prints, but I began to wonder.

I looked it up, in case I'm ever at a restaurant that has paw prints on the bathroom doors.

(because everyone knows that all cats are "she" and all dogs are "he", or not)

Tutorial for those bathroom signage challenged like myself:

Dog print has one hump at the top of the main pad and two at bottom.

Cat print has two humps at the top of the main pad and three at the bottom.

Both animals have four toes.

So now you know and so do I.

Good luck with themed bathroom signs.

New Kitchen Toys

2012-01-09T08:39:00.005-06:00

I didn't post much over the holidays for a number of reasons.

However, I do want to show off some new kitchen toys that I got before Thanksgiving.

I try very hard to stick to the "No Unitaskers" rule when buying myself things for the kitchen. What normally happens when I've given in to my urge to buy a unitasker, is that I use it once or twice and then it just takes up valuable room in my cabinets.

I broke that rule, but I think it will be okay.

Lee and I were getting ideas for Christmas presents after seeing a movie at the mall.

When we're at the mall, he's sweet enough to wander Wm. Sonoma with me as I "ooo and ahh" over beautiful knives and shiny espresso machines and seasonal plates with matching aprons, soap, and dishtowels.

William Sonoma is just chock-full of unitaskers.

Microplanes for grinding nutmeg.

Avocado cutter/scoopers.

Apple corer/peeler/slicers.

Garlic holders.

Onion holders.

It would take all day to list them.

This is what I bought.

Well, not exactly this, but the same idea.

Tiny pastry cutters.

Mine are "Fall Themed Pie Crust Cutters".

A leaf, a turkey, an acorn and a pumpkin.

I love making pie. My family loves pie. I love that my family loves pie.

These tiny unitaskers will be used multiple times. I have renamed them Mulitaskers so Alton Brown and I can rest easy knowing they aren't wasting space in my kitchen.

I may even buy more of them this spring.

Maybe they'll have a duckling, bunny, flower, easter egg set?

Mr. Turkey fell in the apple pie, but he sure was pretty.

Apple pie with turkey and acorns.

Pumpkin pie with (what else?) pumpkins and leaves.

Cherry pie with leaves.

They didn't make the pie taste better, but they sure made them a little prettier and I had fun with my new kitchen toys.

Higher Math

2012-01-05T09:05:00.003-06:00

Molting has stopped.

Feathers are in.

The Winter solstice has passed.

The days are getting infinitesimally longer.

The "I Laid an Egg" song is being sung.

It was sung FOUR times in one day on January 3rd!

The other hens decided if an old hen like Penny can lay eggs, so can they.

Long live the yard egg!

Out with the grocery store egg!

I Love a Good Puzzle

2012-01-04T07:35:00.003-06:00

Yesterday, I tackled the herculean task of unChristmasing (I just know that's a word) the house.

It was too herculean!

The dang tree is 8 feet tall!

It's a beautiful fake tree, that needs to be unFluffed (another real word) and the tiers unConnected (probably not a word) from each other and put back in the giant box.

Herculean task, I'm positive now.

Plus, there was the peripheral decorations that had to be stored away until next year.

Getting it all assembled in one area to be repacked is the easy part.

Getting it to all fit in 3 bins-- THAT is the puzzle that must be solved each and every year.

I suppose I could take pictures of each layer in each bin as we are getting it out every Thanksgiving, but that would be too easy.

Where's the fun in that?

Getting a big box, perfectly packed with smaller boxes is a triumph.

It makes a person (me) stand back with hands on hips and a big smile on my face. "Well done", I say to myself.

It also makes a person (me) stand on the ladder I used to take down the tree and take pictures of aforementioned boxes.

It always feels so cruel to unChristmas the house, so I wait until the children have gone back to school.

That way, it's not all up in their face that,

"It's over! Your vacation is over! You are going back to school soon!"

I remember from my own childhood how horrible I felt when two events happened each year:

1. The appearance of "Back to School" commercials as soon as the last firecracker popped on 4th of July.

And

2. The appearance of "Lose those Holiday Pounds for Swimsuit Season" commercials as soon as the last package was opened on Christmas day.

I want my kids to have being on vacation and Christmas to last as long as possible.

So, for them, I wait until they've gone back to school.

Guess that means I have to get to work on losing those holiday pounds for swimsuit season.

Blogs and Personal Lives

2012-01-02T08:21:00.004-06:00

Here we are, January 2, 2012 and this is my second blog post.

Two days in a row.

Does that mean I'm on a streak to post every day?

Hardly.

In fact, I'd all but given up blogging, but my niece asked me to continue.

She has her reasons.

What's funny is that I believe one of her reasons is the same reason I started this blog in the first place----to be out in the open with my children about my life. Sarah wants my kids to know about my life.

I know that it's not necessary (or even a good thing) to share every little detail about your life with your children. It's also not a good thing to keep secrets.

Goodness knows that the secrets find their way out of the deep once you pass away.

I guess for some folks, being dead is the best place to be when people they love find out their secrets. It's also the cruelest form of punishment. There's no Q & A session when one party is dead.

All that said, I find that my blog posts have tapered off 57 posts in 2011 from 2010.

Theory:

Maybe I've said all there is to say?

Not likely. Just ask the humans and pets around me.

Maybe I've discovered my life isn't all that interesting---it hasn't evolved since I began this blog in 2008?

Partly.

In looking back over blog posts from the last 4 years, it's really about the same stuff. I think at my age and career choice (stay at home mom), life is supposed to be stable and quiet. Some folks would kill for a little boredom in their lives.

Mostly, the drop in posts is because of sadness.

It's not depression. Goodness knows I've battled that beast in my life and consider it beat back into a cage. I know the difference between sadness and depression, for certain.

The sadness comes from things in my life that hurt me.

Things I can't really talk about in my blog. I want to, really I do.

I want people to say,

"It'll be okay."

"I've been through it and this is how it turned out."

"You've said everything there is to say, but you have to let go."

"You can't do anything any different than you're doing right now."

The sadness blocks my creativity. It has gone so far as to block the very sun from the sky.

Blogging, picture taking, and cooking are creative things that I do. I haven't gone out with my camera in months.

In trying to remember how long I've felt this way, I looked back at last years blog. I found the first time I "didn't" blog about it in September.

Has it really been that long?

Three months.

One quarter of the year.

Don't think that I've just moped around the house and felt sorry for myself and our family situation.

No........well, not every day.

It's just that life has lost it's luster.

Mostly, I've gotten past it. Given up.

My son will do what he wants to do, whether it hurts me and his father or not.

I have come to a place that in my heart, with the help of some wise folks around me that says,

He will have the life he has chosen, whether he ends up liking it or not.

It will be exactly what he wants... or not.

He will discover 10 years down the road that he feels trapped or he will be glad he never looked around.

I believe that he has chosen a life that will be an mountainous struggle.

I believe he will be giving up dreams.

I believe he has given up his true self and most of his friends along the way.

He believes I'm out of my gourd for thinking those things.

The trouble is, I've been where he is.

I've walked in the very same path he's walked.

I know how it turns out.

Luckily, I got off that path before it swallowed me whole and spit me out.

However, every parent on the planet knows, you have to let kids learn their own lessons---they cannot learn from yours.

Profound sadness are the descriptive words I use when writing those "believe" sentences above.

And so, if my blogging isn't daily or weekly, it's because I'm missing something.

I think I'm mostly on the other side of this sadness. The situation is completely out of my control. I choose to move beyond it.

It will be what it will be.

The picture at the top of the page is a reminder of a happier heart. One where I did something for myself each week. I'm going to do that again. This year, I will do something for myself, my heart, one day a week.

I will be going back to the farm. I will be cleaning and packing amazing veggies and fruit.

The quiet labor of the farm feeds my soul. The smell of the earth feeds it as well.

Solo

2012-01-01T16:00:00.005-06:00

photo by Pearl, of course. :)

This is Solo.

She's a neighbor's barn cat.

I think she's our cat now.

Either that, or she's playing both of us.

I do know that Hobbes, our cat, is wildly smitten with her and spends his days following her from tree to pasture to tree again.

She would rather he find a new hobby.

I see what he sees in her though.

The perfectly clean, raven coat and the enormous golden eyes are hard to resist.

She's a wee bit of nothing.

I'd guess she's less than 4 pounds and tiny from head to tail.

I think the fact that she showed up at the barn, barely able to walk (about 4 weeks old) contributed to her diminutive size. Our best guess is that momma cat (feral) was moving her kittens and just petered out with little Solo when she reached the barn. There was never any sign of momma or any other kittens, thus the name Solo.

I say she's our cat now because she comes when I call her. She lets me pick her up and purrs up a storm when we're together. The neighbor says she runs at the sight of them. Their loss.

She's got a wicked side, too.

She'll love on me, roll and talk and purr one minute and the next she's latched onto my leg with all four paws and teeth to match.

She's an outdoor kitty. She prefers it.

She has places to go and rats to hunt.

If I didn't think it would be a terrible name, I'd rename her Tinkerbell.

She's just like the character from Peter Pan.

Full of spit and vinegar, standoffish and petulant.

She's also ready and willing to make my day by just being in my presence and purring.

Maybe she's not so much our cat, as we are her humans.

Whatever.

You cat owners know what I'm talking about.

Above and Beyond the Call of Duty

2011-12-26T15:52:00.003-06:00

The little hen you see at the top/center of this picture is the only remaining hen from my first chickens. She was hatched on October 15th, 2004.

All her sisters have succumbed to age related deaths over the last two years. The most recent being about 3 weeks ago.

If you've done the math, this little Americauna hen is seven years old.

Her name is Penny and she wasn't even supposed to be a "she".

When you order chicks from a hatchery, they will often throw in "cockerals for warmth".

What that means is, they're trying to get rid of their male chicks without having to kill them/dispose of them themselves. Their problem becomes your problem.

What they will do, is put a blue mark on the heads of all these chicks so you can decide what to do with them as soon as you get them.

I decided to keep the one they threw in "for warmth".

He turned out to be a she.

She's extremely shy and skittish.

She's of the breed that is also known as Easter Eggers because they lay colored eggs--Pink, green or blue.

Hers turned out to be a very, very light pinkish/brown. They're virtually indistinguishable from the brown eggs I get from my other hens.

What does any of this have to do with my title?

Penny, right on schedule, has finished up her molt and has begun laying eggs again.

For all seven years of her life she has only taken a break from egg laying to molt and regrow her feathers.

This year is no different.

The three chickens from my new batch of chickens have not begun laying again.

Penny has broken a record, I just know it.

She's made it possible for me to begin eating eggs again.

Anyone who has ever had "real" chicken eggs knows how difficult it is to eat those pale eggs that come from the grocery store.

After seven years, Penny is finally at the head of the pecking order.

Despite the lovely color and flavor of her eggs, I wish she'd take a break from her egg laying to finally enjoy being Head Hen.

Maybe later.

Right now, she's out announcing the arrival of another egg.

Unplugged...

2011-11-18T12:39:00.002-06:00

...for a while, anyway.

Just for the Sake of History

2011-11-16T08:14:00.003-06:00

I don't have any pictures.

I've "lost that lovin' feelin' " for photographing things like rain gauges and puddles.

Mostly because we rarely have anything in the rain gauge and puddles are only made by garden hoses.

Yesterday, we got 1/2 inch of rain.

Enough to lay down the dirt a bit.

Enough for the county idiots to lift the burn ban.

Enough to cancel soccer practice.

Enough to fill all my rain barrels, that aren't really barrels at all but buckets and tubs of every size and assortment.

Enough to make a nice hatch of mosquitoes and flies.

Enough to green up the pasture a bit and give the tired trees a drink.

Enough to slick up the roads.

Enough to drive up the mold count, AAaccchoooo!

Enough to temporarily lift everyone's mood regarding the drought.

Not enough to put a dent in our 25 inch deficit for rain in the last year.

Still, I'll take it.

Beep, Beep!

2011-11-01T08:05:00.005-05:00

Peek-a-Boo, I see you.

In all the years I've lived in Texas (22 in case you're wondering), I've only seen a handful of roadrunners.

This fall, I've seen one at least once a day. Most days I see more than one.

The roadrunner seems to be the only animal that thrived in the summers blistering temperatures and lack of rain.

Lee and I have wondered aloud more than once about why this might be.

Why are there suddenly more roadrunners after all these years?

Because I'm a biology nerd, I did some research on the subject.

Roadrunners build a stick and grass nest, 3-10 feet off the ground in brushy trees or cactus. The female lays 3-6 eggs.

Hypothesis: I didn't see one snake all summer. Maybe the heat kept their numbers down, thus keeping the snakes from raiding the runner's nest for eggs/nestlings?

Roadrunner pairs take turns sitting the nest over a 20 day period. The male always sits the nest at night, as his body temperature doesn't fluctuate. Hers goes up and down significantly with the ambient temperature.

Hypothesis: With our nighttime temperatures barely getting below 90* for most of the summer, Mr. Runner didn't expend so much energy keeping eggs warm. Maybe this allowed him to have better overall health/stamina for when the chicks hatched? Mrs. Runner doesn't have to wait so long in the morning to warm up and get moving to feed the chicks?

Once the chicks hatch, they are taken care of by both parents. Their food sources are insects, small rodents, lizards, and the occasional bite of road kill.

Honestly, about the only insects that I saw all summer were things with exoskeletons. Grasshoppers didn't mind the summer weather one bit. Lizards did pretty well, too. Because of the high fire danger, the Dept. of Transportation kept the grass beside the roads cut very short. So did those of us with property.

Hypothesis: Maybe the shorter grass made it much easier for the runners to locate grasshoppers and other insects to feed their chicks??

Photo credit: http://mirror-pole.com/collpage/roadrunr/roadrun1.htm

No matter what the reason there are more of them, I'm thrilled to be able to watch these funny birds more closely. The one in the pictures was very interested in me while I was working outdoors yesterday. He/She (no way to tell them apart) would look for a snack, eat, and watch me. When I moved to empty the wheelbarrow, it would follow along.

When I finally went inside for the camera, it suddenly became shy and I had to use the telephoto lens to get the pictures.

The Very Best $38 I Ever Spent. Ever!

2011-10-26T08:14:00.003-05:00

I have been mowing my pasture.

Four acres of pasture.

On a riding mower.

It has a 46-inch deck, which technically means it should mow a path of grass that is 46 inches wide.

It tries, it really does.

It's just that this particular mower is 10 years old and has been mistreated---by mowing the pasture.

It seems mower decks don't appreciate going over holes and rocks while trying to cut grass. They'd rather cut large areas (46 inches wide!) of perfectly flat, non-rocky areas.

Think baseball fields and soccer fields.

All that is to give you the impression that mowing the pasture is slow going.

Snails pace, slow.

It doesn't help that the grass is knee high in places, either.

Why didn't I cut it before it got that tall?

Because we haven't had rain.

No rain, knee high grass and rocky areas make up the perfect ingredients for a wildfire.

Hit a rock just right, cause a spark and away we go. The pasture grass would come alive with fire and so would the neighbor's houses.

That tends to make the neighbors angry.

Don't know why.

Well, I do.

Anyway.....

So, you're wondering what the danged title is referring to about now.

Well, while in Wisconsin, my pasture got rain. Two inches of rain!

That means I can mow with a little less worry about starting a fire.

And so mow I did.

Five hours yesterday and I'm only 1/3 done.

I said it was slow.

If I didn't have the "The Very $38 I Ever Spent. Ever" thing, I would not be able to be back on the mower today. I would be sick.

Despite the rain, the dust, mold, spores, and pollen are still out there.

Four acres of them.

Before I had this amazing contraption, I would blow dirt/mud out of my nose for a week and still end up feeling sick.

I might look completely ridiculous in my long-sleeves, long-pants, baseball cap and respirator, but my nose and chest are thrilled with the look. Thereby, I am thrilled as well.

It takes some getting used to, but is an amazing little contraption.

If it could only help with the aches and pains that riding a mower for hours and hours causes, it would be worth it's weight in gold.

Off to climb back on the mower.

Update: Finished mowing in 2 days instead of 3. Drought responsible--grasses/weeds not so dense. Ten hours on the mower instead of 15.

Wishing I Was In Wisconsin

2011-10-24T08:24:00.009-05:00

Not because of the weather there today (62* and Sunny), but because of these cuties.

I am drawn to Baby Gap at the mall because of them.

I am drawn to the toy section as most any retail store--including the grocery store, because of them.

I am drawn to baby Halloween costumes because of them.

I know they are being perfectly provided for by their parents and have enough toys and clothes for four babies, but I can't help myself.

I can't be with them or their parents when I want to.

I think my being drawn to buying them things is just me wanting to shower them with gifts because I can't shower them with hugs and kisses.

photo credit: Pearl

Bella: Hey Grayson, look. These are fun. Want some?

Grayson: Uh, not so fun in my opinion. Mom, how about giving me a hand here?

Bella: Ah, I'm sorry. I thought you'd like it. Gimme a hug.

Grayson: I don't know. I'm not sure a hug's gonna do it. Got anything else that might make me feel better?

Bella: Well, I have this Minnie Mouse. You can hold her for a minute.

Grayson: Hold her? I'm gonna eat her. That nose looks extra tasty.

Bella: Hey! Not what I had in mind. How about you try one of these leaves. They're tasty, too.

Dreaming of More Four-Leggeds

2011-10-22T08:51:00.004-05:00

My poor hubby. This week, I want goats.

Boer goats.

I know just where I can get some, too.

My friend, Jen, raises Boer goat and trains horses for a living.

Thursday, another friend and I went to Jen's ranch to borrow a pair of hoof snips.

Luckily, there were still two cutie pie babies to see.

A couple times a year, her place is swarming with babies.

All but two went off to the sale barn over the summer. They stayed behind because they were surprise babies that were born much later than the others.

I would love to have a couple goats as pets. Maybe this momma and her little buck?

Or not.

Goats are quite athletic and crafty when it comes to getting out of fences and pens. Boer goats also get pretty large.

Despite their size, they still love to snuggle and be scratched. They'd have climbed right up in our laps if we'd have gone in the pen.

Most of Jen's does are very friendly.

Maybe I should have these two girls instead?

They should be delivering cutie babies before Thanksgiving.

Then I'd have cutie babies all my own, plus friendly mommas.

What more could a girl want.........besides donkeys and a barn and a fence?

Neighborhood Supermodel

2011-10-20T08:20:00.002-05:00

I've been following Mr. Big for several years now.

We're on a first name basis, I just call him Big.

He lifted his restraining order last year, and I can now get within 5 feet of him.

This time of year, his career is in high gear and he is a bit stand-offish.

He's getting ready for his annual show.

"Rut, 2011 Whom Will She Choose?"

This year, some of his fiercest competitors in the modeling industry have been signed for the show as well.

He's obviously been working out over the summer, despite our wretched heat wave.

Unfortunately, his competitors often are catty when it comes to this show every year.

They taunt in him---but only from afar.

They know he outshines them every year on the catwalk.

This year looks to be no different.

His attention to his diet and work out program will pay off yet again.

Thanks for stopping by, Mr. Big.

See you tomorrow, right?

Big?

Hey, let's meet for a latte'! I'm buyin'.

Big?

We're best buds. He's just got another photo shoot.

Really.

Colors of Wisconsin

2011-10-18T12:41:00.018-05:00

A couple posts ago, I showed you "who" we saw in Wisconsin.

Today, I will show you "what" we saw in Wisconsin.

We saw color! Lots and lots of color!

I know folks must be tiring of how many days we had over 100* this summer ( 90, if anyone is just tuning in). Also, you must be tired of how many days over 90* (127 at last count). Lastly, you are mighty tired of hearing about our drought and how it hasn't significantly rained since October, 2010 (note: freak rainstorm dropped 2 inches at our house while we were in WI.)

All those facts add up to one thing about Austin, TX.

It's brown and tan and beige and greenish in certain places here.

Dirt has replaced grass.

Formerly green trees have begun to turn a strange shade of gray-green.

Flowerbeds were for naught.

Color in any intensity has disappeared.

In Wisconsin, they had a boat load of snow last winter and have had regular rain over the spring/summer months.

What does that add up to?

All the colors of the rainbow.

For James, Pearl and me, it was a cool, refreshing break from the last year in Texas.

"Wow!" could be heard coming from one of us, every time we went outdoors.

Reds, oranges, yellows and greens.

Soft creams and whites.

Bella's favorite!

Yellow and green!

Pink and green and red and blue and brown.

Helpful Pat the pig.

Cocoa, and black and white and gray.

Mother and children, three.

Yellows and whites and blacks and browns.

Hungry sheep teaching Bella the 'flat hand feeding method'.

Dark chocolate and creams.

Note to Lee: WANT one, really WANT two. Donkeys, not chocolate.

Honestly, every color in the rainbow. This tom was iridescent and handsome in his courting attire.

Orange and green, everywhere.

White and green.

Milwaukee Museum of Art on Lake Michigan

White and blue and green. Trees in their colors as well.

Orange, yellow, green, blue, brown and black.

Lake Michigan was so clear and beautiful. It was good to be a duck.

What color don't you see? Maybe purple?

We don't have this in Austin this year.

Nor this.

Thank you Sarah, Ryan, Bella and Grayson, for letting us visit and for sharing your bit of Wisconsin with us.

Love you truly, madly, wildly!

I think Autumn will be the time to visit Wisconsin in the future.

So very, very beautiful!

And Then There Were Five

2011-10-15T20:50:00.002-05:00

My sweet Sunny died today.

In looking back over her 'baby pictures', it turns out today is also her birthday.

She was born October 15th, 2004

Seven, presumably happy years.

She was my favorite hen.

She always came to sit in my lap and take a nap if I stayed put long enough.

She'd burrow her head in under my arm, like a chick would do.

She actually seemed to like being petted and would leave the flock to come hang out with me when I was outdoors.

She never had much to say, no gossip to share like a couple of the other hens.

She was quiet and gentle and a fine egg layer.

I won't venture to guess how many eggs she laid in her lifetime, but I do know she laid the occasional egg as late as this summer.

One last thing to note about Sunny--after our rooster died, Sunny grew spurs. There hasn't been much research regarding hens growing spurs, but the theory is that it's a hormonal change that occurs as they age.

She survived the hottest summer on record, only to die on a mild autumn day in her coop.

I'm quite certain there'll never be another like her in my lifetime.

Finally Meeting Them

2011-10-12T10:18:00.026-05:00

Last weekend I took Pearl and James to Wisconsin

Why?

Because they had a 4 day weekend and because they'd never met my niece, Sarah's, family.

How could that be?

Sarah and Ryan got married in Hawaii (their home at the time). Lee and I went, and left the kids at home.

When Sarah got pregnant with her first baby, she and Ryan moved back to the mainland to be closer to family.

Ryan is from Wisconsin. They chose there for a variety of reasons.

Ryan started his own business and Sarah got right to work as a pediatric nurse.

Bella was born. Then Grayson was born.

As often happens with young families and not so young families (theirs and ours)---we're busy.

We are also separated by 1205.52 miles.

So here it is, almost four years later, and two of my kids are just now meeting Sarah's family.

These are pictures of "who" we saw.

The next post will be of "what" we saw as well.

As usual, many of the photos are by Pearl.

Pearl, James, Grayson and Sarah

Ryan, Bella and Luna in their backyard.

Yummy baby!

Who loves his momma?

"I coming bunnies!!"

Bella's favorite animals at the Green Meadows Petting Farm are the bunnies.

Pony ride!

James being silly. He might have been a bit too big for this swing.

Bella waited so patiently for her turn with the bunny.

Sarah and Grayson

Bella with momma goat and her triplets.

We got there fairly late in the day, so many of the animals were just plain tired.

Momma goat and babies never moved.

Bella discovers that sheep cannot keep a secret. If one gets food, they all find out.

She also has to figure out how to feed them with a flat hand. Otherwise, they'll nibble her fingers.

James and the John Deere

Pumpkin time! The weeds were itchy to Bella's feet, so she hitched a ride with Pearl.

Straw bales and drainage pipes make for a great playground.

Bella at the top of the slide with daddy. It was quite a ways down, but she braved it anyway.

James and Pearl taking a break on the hay bale playground

Me and Bella with her "baby pumpkin".

Baby Pumpkin went everywhere with us for the next two days.

After the petting farm, we made a stop at place called Elegant Farmer.

It's a fancy grocery store/bakery that is attached to an apple orchard.

I didn't take any pictures because it was a mad house.

The sunny skies and 80* temps had folks from miles around coming out to enjoy the weather before the snow flies.

They are famous for their apple pies that are baked in paper bags.

We got a couple of those, some cheese curds, a chicken pot pie for dinner, caramel popcorn, beef jerky, and cinnamon sugar tortilla chips.

We got some apples, just to even out the good-t0-bad food ratio. :)

Impossibly cute baby!

Waterfront on Lake Michigan in Milwaukee.

The kids and I stayed in a hotel. We all decided to take advantage of their indoor pool. Bella loves swimming!

Grayson, Ryan, Bella and Sarah.

Who is that kid leaning into my picture? :)

Sidewalk chalk

It is officially Fall in Wisconsin. That means leaves on the ground.

I raked a few up and the kids played in them while we snapped pictures.

Luna

She's so good with the babies!

These two pumpkins are lucky indeed.

They have great parents. Parents who should pat themselves on the back for the great job they're doing.

I know they are sleep deprived and probably constantly question if they are doing the right thing in any given situation. They are.

They work seamlessly together in every part of their parenting and household chores. They both cover all the bases. If one needs a break, the other is happy to make it happen.

I'm so proud of both of them.

I'm so glad two of my kiddos got finally meet them and love them as much as I do.

Migration

2011-09-28T08:02:00.005-05:00

Pearl constantly amazes me with her photographic eye and ability to capture what she sees.

Last week we had what appeared to be an influx of hummingbirds. Migration has begun.

While they don't travel in flocks, like geese for example, it would seem that they all leave one place and travel south at the same time.

We have three feeders out and they were all swarming with hummingbirds.

Pearl said it looked like bees instead of birds, for all the activity. We once counted 10 at this one feeder alone.

They stayed around for the weekend, and by Monday we were back to the half dozen that normally fight over the feeders.

The "exceptional" drought (I take exception to the use of that word, there's nothing exceptional about it) that we've been having has put the migratory hummingbirds and butterflies at risk.

As they travel, they stop at flowers all along the way to feed. Their normal path south (through Texas) leaves them with little to no flowering plants to stop at. Bird folk have gotten the word out through the media that feeders are going to be the difference between a successful migration and the death of many birds and butterflies.

Some might say that it's the way of nature and to leave it alone. I'm not up to letting birds die from lack of food and water.

Call me a softie.

I can live with that.

Swept Away

2011-09-22T08:25:00.005-05:00

photographer Jean Guichard

Yes, the picture is real.

Believe it or not, the man in the lighthouse was not killed.

He was awaiting rescue via helicopter.

That was the only reason he opened the door.

The funny thing about my blog is that I started it so I could be transparent to my family.

Ironically, I am feeling as though I might be swept away by emotion that involves a family member.

The blog can no longer be the outlet.

That's perfectly okay.

So, in order to mark this place in time, I must be vague.

Opaque.

I must mark it though.

This week, I've been feeling very much like the man in the lighthouse.

I can't really share why, only to say that it involves a family member.

Family is the single most important thing in my life.

My children are my greatest gift.

No one has died.

No one is ill.

In fact, many many folks reading this would think this thing that I'm "not" telling you about is minor in the greater scheme of life.

To me it is not. To my husband, it is not.

So what is this thing that has me so awash in sadness?

Growing pains.

Being a parent is absolutely the hardest job on the planet.

If you want to be a good parent anyway.

I do.

I have to cling to the lighthouse and not be swept away by emotion.

I must lean on God and my dear, sweet husband for support.

Luckily, both he and God are excellent examples of how to be a parent.

Love without judgement.

Love unconditionally.

Hurt, but move forward with open arms anyway.

Listen.

Hear.

Respond in love.

I will be rescued eventually.

Right now, I just need to close the lighthouse door and work on it.

Mull it over.

Pray.

Happy Birthday My Girl!

2011-09-19T10:19:00.003-05:00

Yesterday was Pearl's 17th birthday.

How can that be?

Where did the time go?

She is my heart, my love, my joy.

I am so very proud of the young woman she has become.

So very proud of the decisions she has made for herself in this life.

So very proud of her heart and her soul.

Her love astounds me, Lifts me up.

Happy Birthday, my love.

I am so glad to have you in my life.

So, What Do You Do for A Living?

2011-09-13T14:13:00.006-05:00

The primary reason for this blog's existence is so I could become wildly famous and rich like Pioneer Woman.

Wait, no it's not. :)

The primary reason was so my kids could understand some of the inner workings, secrets and loves of their mom. What makes me tick? What makes me smile? You get the jist.

In talking with someone recently, I was reminded that I had many jobs before I became a mom.

Most were paid jobs, some were volunteer.

I can say, there was only one that I didn't like. I wanted to like it, but my boss was a head case.

I'll start at the beginning and add commentary if it's necessary.

*Answered phones at a Datsun dealership on Saturdays. I was 13. My dad was a salesman there.

*Waitress at a Shoneys

*Retail work at a Jean's West in the Blue Ridge Mall. Jean's West went out of business and the mall is gone.

*Daycare teacher. Worked every age from infants up to the kiddos that just missed the cutoff to go to kindergarten. Hardest job I ever had besides being a mom. Loved it.

*Usher for the Kansas City Royals. Knew my schedule for a whole year. Fabulous summer job. Did it for 5 summers. I think I got this job because I knew George Brett. Funny thing: Didn't like baseball one bit. Still don't.

*Waitress at Bennigan's. Loved this job like crazy. Love talking to strangers.

*Insurance filer/office assistant at a Dialysis unit. First "real job" I ever had (had benefits). I liked the work, but one of my co-workers hated me because I lost a bunch of weight when I got my heart broken. She made it her job to make me as miserable at work as I was at home.

*Back to the Daycare job. Quit when Lee and I got married and moved to Houston.

*Greenhouse/Nursery worker. Watered plants. Hot, boring, lonely work for a girl who just moved to town.

*Dental Assistant for an Endodontist (root canal). On the job training. If something seems too good to be true, it is. In his pre-dental years he claimed to have worked for CIA during the Vietnam War. Knew all about brain-washing. Spent his days messing with the heads of his dental staff when he wasn't messing with someone's teeth. No wonder he offered on the job training. He blew through staff like a tornado through open prairie.

*Back to Daycare. Loved it. Quit because my employer's husband spent far too much time hitting on me. Yuck!

*Last job before kids was a volunteer one: I spent the summer volunteering at a YMCA camp as a horse wrangler.

I am fortunate enough to have been able to stay home with my kids all these years. Everything after that was volunteer work.

*Room mom, helping out at their schools.

*Rehabber for Wildlife Rescue--so much fun having baby squirrels in the house!

*Sunday School teacher

*Church camp counselor

*Coordinator of our program at church to feed the homeless--still do this.

*Picker/packer of veggies at a community sustained agriculture farm.

It's possible I missed a couple things. I don't think so.

Now you can see how I know a little bit about a lot of things.

Natural Disasters

2011-09-07T09:18:00.008-05:00

Folks that follow natural disasters most often think of tornadoes, hurricanes, and earthquakes.

In the last 5 years, we've also been made painfully aware of tsunamis as well.

Wildfires don't get much press, because the really big ones are often in open ranges with miles and miles of land where few people live.

They all have one thing in common--they kill, devastate and destroy.

Last weekend, we had the "perfect storm" set up over Central Texas to make wildfires a very real possibility. We had very dry, cool air coming in from the North and high winds off the back side of tropical storm Lee come in from the East. Winds gusted over 40 mph.

That, coupled with our drought conditions (no real rain since October) and extreme heat (80 days over 100*), made for perfect fire conditions.

Three blew up within hours of one another.

One in my county.

Friends were in areas that were evacuated. So were their horses and goats and cattle.

That fire claimed 7,000 so far, is 40% contained, and destroyed 67 homes.

My friends are all back in place, as the winds have changed direction a bit.

Another fire, 15 miles NE of me, was in a neighborhood of 4,000 homes. The high winds caused power lines to touch and spark a fire in a canyon nearby. It's 40% contained, burned 125 acres, and destroyed 25 homes. Again, the wind direction allowed homeowners back in.

The fire that is in the news is the Bastrop fire. It's about 30 miles due East of me.

There's no word yet on it's cause, but it is catastrophic. There is no talk of containment, even after 3 days of fighting it. It's 30,000 acres at this point and 700 homes have been destroyed. The problem there is, the fuel source---dense pine trees. This fire continues to move rapidly toward the south. It continues to jump fire breaks and main roads. Two are confirmed dead. They refused to leave when evacuation notices were put in place.

Below, are just a handful of pictures (none by me). I'm sure there are hundreds online by now if you're interested.

If you're a praying person, pray for rain. That's the only thing that's going to stop the Bastrop fire. Unfortunately, there's none in the forecast.

photo credit: hippychickenfarmer

photo credit: Wendy Moore

photo credit: Deanna Roy

photo credit: Jay Janner/Austin Statesman

photo credit: dezelfeeder

photo credit: Jay Janner

Happy Birthday Baby

2011-09-05T09:08:00.003-05:00

Okay, so he's not a baby.

But, he is my baby. My youngest.

My youngest is now 13!

He chose peach pie for his "cake". :)

We had a family dinner with a couple beloved friends added in for fun.

We ate at the best pizza place in town--Austin Pizza Garden.

Of course, that's our opinion, but we're always right about these things.

He had 4 buddies (Jonathan, Cole, Jackson, and Diego) over for a sleepover to celebrate.

Burgers and dogs and chips and cupcakes and Japanese sodas were on the menu.

Swimming, watching YouTube videos and playing with their phones were the main activities of the evening.

I think they slept a little bit.

They beg to differ.

Cinnamon rolls and bacon for breakfast.

Tomorrow it's back to school and such, but it was a lovely weekend.

We are so blessed to have this boy in our lives.

A boy that is becoming big like his brother and his sister.

Happy birthday my love! I love you madly!

A Question of Genetics

2011-09-01T08:40:00.003-05:00

Let me preface this post with a disclaimer. I am not a biologist. I just play one on TV.

Not really, but you understand.

This buck is the 'alpha' in the wild deer herd that frequents my place. He outweighs the other bucks by what looks to be about 30-50 lbs. He looks like he's on steroids compared to the next buck in line.

I have several friends that are hunters that would love to put him in their freezer because of that extra weight.

BUT--there tends to be a code among deer hunters that says you always leave the largest buck for future breeding. That ensures generations of healthy, good looking deer.

In this case, I'm beginning to wonder.

If he is the father of all the fawns that have been born in the last several years, something is not quite right in what he is passing along.

I have observed several things in his fawns for the last 3 years at least.

1. They often don't live a month.

2. If they do live, they don't grow properly.

3. The bucks that he throws are what is called 'spike' bucks (single antlers with no branches).

I realize that he only provides 50% of the genetics for these fawns, but could all the does in the herd have something wrong with their 50%? Unlikely.

The only surviving fawn this year is tiny. I wonder if she'll make it through the winter.

The fawn in my header is from last summer. He did not make it despite his healthy appearance.

Weather could be said to be a factor this year. Extreme heat and drought have caused food sources for the deer to be incredibly hard to find.

The same cannot be said of last spring and summer (2010) though. We only had a couple days above 100* and we had plentiful rains. His fawns did not survive that summer either. Again, only a couple did and they are tiny this year. They look like they didn't grow at all over the winter.

The twist in this story: We have far, far too many deer for the acreage that is available for them. The fact that the fawns are dying off or not thriving is actually keeping the herd smaller.

On one hand, the big buck's genetics could be keeping the population in check.

On the other hand, many of the deer are suffering because of it.

The does carry a fawn to term---taxing her body during the winter months, only to have the fawn die.

The fawns die or are abandoned, I don't know which.

The question then becomes: Do we cull this buck to bring a healthier genetic base to the deer or leave him be so the general population stays where it is?

Beautiful Trouble in Paradise

2011-08-29T14:42:00.005-05:00

The Caribbean in the summertime can be a volatile place. At least as far as the weather goes.

A storm blew through almost every day. I guess heat plus water equals rain.

Below, are pictures Pearl took of an amazing sight--a waterspout.

It's funny, 'waterspout' sounds so innocuous, so innocent.

What it really is, is a tornado at sea.

Tornado equals destruction and death, if you happen to be nearby.

This one looked to be about 5 miles out, so Pearl, along with everyone else on the beach just snapped pictures.

For Posterity

2011-08-25T07:50:00.003-05:00

It's official.

It is the hottest summer on record in Austin, TX.

They started keeping records in the mid 1800's.

Yesterday, we hit 70 days above 100*

The former record was set in 1925.

Sixty-nine days.

Turns out that record is in question because the surrounding towns didn't log temperatures nearly that high.

Austin has always been an overachiever.

Or a great story teller.

Either way, it's hot.

I think I should whip up some t-shirts that say,

"I survived the summer of 2011" or "Member of the 100* Club".

Folks would buy them.

Anyway, looks like day 70 was just hitting it's stride. We have at the very least, two more weeks of this weather.

Some folks are just wishing for 100 days above 100*, just to make it look nice in the record books and on t-shirts.

Might as well. What's one more month of this stuff?

We're tough.

We're Texans.

A Grand Vacation

2011-08-22T09:12:00.010-05:00

Let me preface this post with a fact: These pictures are wildly out of order. Pearl and I both took pictures on different cameras. We both uploaded our pictures into iPhoto.

In addition, Blogger only lets me upload 5 pictures at one time, in reverse order, just to make it more confusing.

Also, this trip would not have been possible if Grandma and Grandpa had stayed at our house to look after the grandpets!

Thanks Mom and Dad!!

Onward.

Our flight left Austin at 0'dark-thirty. We changed planes in Dallas. We changed planes in Miami. We finally got off the plane in Grand Cayman about 3pm.

The airport is so tiny in Grand Cayman that you get off your plane on the tarmac and walk into the building. Quick run through customs, claim bags and we were on our way.

We walked across the street to a tiny building to get our rental car. Five seatbelts and cold air conditioning--that's all we required.

We followed the directions the lady at the rental car place gave us to get to our hotel. We got lost anyway. Turns out, they don't much bother with cross-street signs. Oh well, we drove around until we found it. The island is only 20 miles by 8 miles and things go in circles.

And so begins the out of order picture rundown of a lovely vacation.

Cool sign in one of the many gardens outside our hotel.

The only picture we took of the hotel, and it only captures a microscopic amount of the building. It's the Marriot Beach Resort. Very, very clean. Not a hint of mildew/ocean smell anywhere, even though it's right on the beach.

James---ready for snorkeling.

A red-legged honeycreeper at the Turtle Farm.

Three day old green sea turtle at the Turtle Farm.

One year old green sea turtle. Why are they called that? They aren't green.

Turns out their fat is very green because they eat only plant matter.

Smith's Cove.

A very popular area to snorkel. That day, the surf was wild and it made it impossible to see anything in the water. We were in for about 20 minutes, fought the waves and 'cloudy' water and then got out. A day-trip that failed. No problem, the kids were cool with it. We'd just alter our plans.

Someone altered them for us.

The locks had been popped on the rental car. Our purses (in the trunk) were most presumably stolen. Lee got on the phone, called 911, and then called our credit card company and bank.

A policeman showed up and couldn't get in the car either. Lee said he was very nice and very sorry that it had happened. He called our rental car place for us and a man from the rental place showed up with a new car and something to get the trunk open.

Glory be, our purses were still in the trunk!!! Since we were parked in a very public place, in broad daylight, the would-be thieves gave it one shot and gave up.

Cold air conditioning and 5 seat belts. We were good to go.

Boys entertaining themselves in the hotel room.

One of Tom's many dream cars. This car tempted him every time we pulled into the parking lot of the hotel. I'm guessing an employee owns it. An employee named Lee.

Some sort of curly tailed lizard. The tiny version of this lizard has a tail so tightly wound that it reminded me of the tail of a pug dog.

The island was swarming with feral chickens. When Lee and I were there 23 years ago, there was nary a chicken to be found. This hen appeared on our 4th day there with brand new babies. They were sitting, quite happily in the shade of the hotel driveway. The sprinkler system has just finished up, and the chicks were drinking water that was still sitting in the cracks of the drive. Momma was quite unconcerned with Pearl taking pictures and cars driving around her.

Lee, me, Tom and James, waiting to leave the dock. Obviously, Pearl is the photographer. :)

We are headed out to Stingray City to snorkel with and feed, wild stingrays.

More silliness with the boys.

Stingray city is located 5 miles off the island on a sandbar. It's crazy to be that far away from land and be standing in 3 feet of water.

Pearl captures one of the beautiful sunsets.

Just to show you how badly these pictures are out of order---this picture was taken on our first night there. Pearl, being our marine biology girl, was in her suit immediately and in the water. The rest of us settled with just getting our feet wet.

Proof that Lee was on our vacation. He's usually the one behind the camera.

Fresh water turtle posing for us in the hotel pond.

A rooster, hiding in the palms. More feral chickens. :)

A beautiful turtle at the turtle farm.

More turtles.

This cutie is the Cayman parrot. They are the "state bird" if that's what you'd call them. There are over 2,000 nesting on the island right now. The website I've linked says they used to be common household pets, but now it's illegal to capture and keep one.

Funny story. We visited a Car Museum and this story was attached to one of the cars. It turns out that when the first vehicle arrived in Cayman, no one knew it was coming. There had been several 'revival' sorts of preachers on the island recently and folks were ready for Jesus to come for the second coming. The car made such a racket and scared so many people, that they thought Jesus had come in this strange contraption. The article goes on to say that folks were relieved when it wasn't Jesus, as they didn't feel they were ready and wouldn't have been taken in the second coming. They didn't have their personal affairs in order. :)

Out of order again.

This is a newly hatched baby sea turtle at the turtle farm. In the wild, turtles bury their eggs THREE FEET under the surface of the beach. How these tiny, leathery creatures climb straight up through 3 ft. of sand and survive is beyond me. Here, in the education center, they show you a man-made nest and you can see the babies struggling to the surface. This tiny baby had just emerged.

A blue and gold macaw. Not indigenous to the island. They were pets at the turtle farm.

Pearl taking a picture of me, while I took a picture of her. :)

James enjoying the shade and a soda.

I don't know if you can see it, but the only "injury" anyone suffered on the trip to Stingray City was a stingray hickey. Pearl got swarmed by a group when trying to feed them. A large on sucked onto her leg while searching for the snack she was providing. She got the giggles, as it's really like being covered in puppies as far as she's concerned.

Lee, as we wait in the new rental car after our old rental car had the locks broken. We had to take it back to the garage because one of the tires needed to be changed before we could officially have it. Still, awfully nice of them to come rescue us from Smith's Cove.

My crazy kids. Waiting in the back seat for the tire to be changed. My, how I love their silliness!

Isn't he beautiful.? A green iguana that claimed the tree outside our hotel room.

One of many, many beautiful cars at the car museum. If you're ever in Grand Cayman and tired of the beach, this is most definitely a place to get out of the sun and enjoy one man's collection of amazing cars.

The end.

Not really, but I'll post more later.

Thanks for putting up with the mishmash of pictures.

I'll gush on how much I loved our vacation in the next set of pictures. Pictures Pearl took of a spectacular natural phenomenon that took place a couple miles outside our hotel in the ocean--a waterspout. It went on for over 10 minutes.

Happy Belated Birthday!

2011-08-15T19:03:00.003-05:00

My birthday wishes for my dear mother-in-love are belated because we were out of town for her birthday on the 10th.

Technically, we were flying home on the 10th, but I don't think birthdays should be celebrated late in the evening when the birthday girl should be in bed.

In other words, we got home too late to celebrate with her.

I made her a blueberry pie on Saturday night.

We took her to Threadgill's on Sunday after church and then home for pie and ice cream.

Thanks mom, for sharing another birthday with us and for making it possible to have pie and ice cream.

I love you skyfulls!

Silent Sunday

2011-08-14T16:25:00.002-05:00

Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures

2011-07-30T09:16:00.003-05:00

Last night I was on Facebook, lamenting the fact that I couldn't lock up the chickens until the doe in the chicken run had left. Presumably through the open gate she'd come in through.

She was eating chicken food.

I was afraid if I approached the run, that she'd blast into the fence instead of using the gate. Deer tend to fun first and ask questions later. I didn't want to risk her getting tangled and injured in the fencing.

I went out about 10pm and she was gone. So was the chicken food.

She'd come in and gone out through the gate.

Or so I thought.

I don't let my chickens out to free range until about 3 o'clock in the afternoon. What that means is, the gate to the chicken run is closed until then. Only their coop door is open

This picture was taken at 9am.

How'd that (same) doe get in there?!

Eating chicken food again, as you can see.

I know deer can jump. Straight up. I've seen the bucks do it. They clear fences without a look back.

I've never seen a doe do it.

Evidently, this one can do it with style.

The fence is 4ft. tall.

The only place she could jump it and not bang her head on a tree branch is on the backside of the run. The trouble is, that spot is downhill and on very unstable footing (years of leaf litter and grass clippings).

She's not only jumping in, she's jumping out as well.

All for some tasteless chicken food.

Why?

Because her natural food sources are drying up.

Deer don't eat grasses. They eat what's called browse (leaves, shoots, twigs, woody vines). They also eat forbs (weeds and broadleaf plants).

We don't have a lot of either thing around here right now.

No rain equals no plant growth.

So what's a deer to do?

Risk life and limb by purposely jumping into an enclosed space to eat chicken food.

I just hope she times each jump perfectly. Otherwise the results could be awful for her and for my fencing.

Wordless Wednesday

2011-07-27T08:30:00.002-05:00

Grumpy

2011-07-18T08:43:00.002-05:00

I haven't been posting with any regularity.

I've been grumpy.

I believe there are several reasons for the grumpiness, but just recently put my finger on the primary cause. Unfortunately, there's not a darn thing I can do about it.

It needs to rain.

It needs to rain in a really big way for days and days and days.

It's not going to.

It won't rain unless there's a hurricane that comes into the Gulf, and I can't wish hurricanes on anyone on the Gulf Coast.

I think the thing that finally put me in true funk was the recent release of information that this drought could go on for at least another year. In previous years, there always seemed to be hope that the drought would turn around.

This year, they've (the National Weather Service) has looked into its crystal ball (and into the Pacific ocean) and predicted a return of El Nino/La Nina. I can't remember which is which---I just know whatever is brewing in the Pacific means we won't get rain here next year either.

I can't really explain why the lack of rain is ruffling my feathers. I don't garden (gave that up). I don't have livestock I need to keep alive. I don't have crops that are withering and dying. I just have a tiny bit of backyard grass that I'd like to keep alive if I can. My pasture is long since dead.

If you look at the map above, Texas has the special distinction of being "Exceptional"---in a drought sort of way. I'm so proud of us (rolls eyes).

I think the thing that's getting to me the most is that our well could run dry.

In the past, there always seemed to be hope that the drought would lift during our winter wet season. It didn't rain last winter. It's not supposed to rain next winter either.

We don't have an alternate water source.

There's a sadness to thinking I may turn on a faucet one day and have nothing come out.

There's a sadness in thinking (and watching) our old growth trees begin to show signs of dying.

There's a sadness to seeing brown, dead foliage mile after mile after mile.

There's a sadness to seeing river beds dry or nearly dry.

There's a sadness to knowing that wildlife is suffering and dying because their food sources are gone.

I think I'm letting that sadness get into my daily life.

I'm grumpy.

So, if you know me and I don't seem myself---I don't seem to have an interest in much of anything---that's why.

I feel like I'm withering under the knowledge that this drought may go on for another year.

Update: 247/254 Counties in Texas are now under a burn ban because of this drought. Y'all know how big Texas is!

http://drought.unl.edu/dm/index.html