Animals

Current Events

Friday there was a big barrel-racing competition in Corona that Julie and four of her friends were riding in, and Julie invited me along to cheer them on. It was a nighttime event in a lighted arena to spare the horses from having to compete in the heat of the day, and I knew I’d be home really late, so the kids spent the night with Steve.

Julie brought a green horse she’s training and rode for “time only,” meaning that she didn’t pay the full entry fee and wasn’t eligible to take home any prize money.

This was an end-of-the-season event, which meant that the riders were not only competing for day money but also tallying the points they’d won over the spring and summer in hopes of taking home one of the prize saddles. Julie’s friend Shannon was already in the top of the points, and Friday she scored day money for her ride AND the saddle for the points she’d accumulated.

It was a fun night. I got home about 2:30 Saturday morning, and I would have loved to sleep in late. I didn’t get to though, because I had a calf to brand at Trinity that morning.

One of my cows (Steve and I split the herd when we separated) had calved after our spring roundup, and it needed to be branded. I asked Steve if I should handle that with some of my friends, but he said no, he’d come and help. In all honesty I was glad to have him there, because he’s bigger and stronger and more experienced than anyone I could have rustled up to help me. I still invited Julie, and she brought Josh’s two strapping teenage sons to lend a hand. And Steve OF COURSE brought his parents, because he is apparently unable to function without them.

Anyway, it all went smoothly. Turned out one of Steve’s cows had a new calf too, a little bull, so we branded mine and castrated his at the same time and had the whole thing wrapped up in less than an hour. I wish I’d gotten pictures, but my sleep-deprived self forgot my camera.

Sunday morning the kids and I went to church. Those of you who know me well are rereading that sentence, wondering if it’s a typo, because me and organized religion have never really gotten along very well. The one time I’d tried a local Anza church a few years back, it only reinforced my impression that home worshipping is, for me, the way to go.

So here’s how it happened: when school started up this year I volunteered to help out with an upcoming fundraiser. This led to having a very nice lady named Michelle invite me to join a walking group she was putting together. That led to meeting a bunch of other very nice ladies that I go walking with in the mornings now, and also to a recommendation that I try out a local nondenominational church with a great pastor.

So to church we went, and I did indeed enjoy it (and so did the kids, who got to make tie-dyed tee-shirts in the Sunday School part), and we’ll be going back next Sunday.

Sunday evening we had a dinner party. Not as fancy as the term might suggest, but fancy enough for us. It was a couple of weeks ago that Luke first said that he wanted to have a dinner party on Sunday. I kind of brushed him off, saying that dinner parties are expensive and the house was a mess and blah blah. A few days later he brought it up again, and I told him that the last thing I needed right now was a bunch of people in our house. This time he clarified that he didn’t mean for me to invite people over. He just wanted the three of us to have a fancy Sunday dinner together. I have no idea what inspired this request, but I told him that yes, that sounded like fun and we should do that sometime, and then I instantly forgot all about it. So when the next Sunday rolled around and Luke asked if we could have our dinner party, I had absolutely nothing on hand to serve that was worthy of such a grand event.

But THIS Sunday I was PREPARED. When we got back from church I sent the kids to go visit Steve, and then I got busy roasting a chicken, making mashed potatoes and gravy, baking biscuits, and chilling sliced cherry tomatoes and zucchini in a balsamic vinaigrette dressing. I got out the good dishes and some candles, and when the kids got back we had a perfectly lovely dinner party, just the three of us.

It was so nice that we’ve decided to make a Sunday tradition of it.

Today Julie came over with her truck and helped me get rid of the last of the trash, the big stuff that never would have fit in my car. So that’s DONE!! Whoot!

And because no Ramblings post would be complete without a bit of navel-gazing, I’ll share a minor epiphany I had this week.

I think I like being single.

I don’t mean that I’m glad Steve and his issues are out of my life, because duh, obviously.

I mean that I’ve begun to genuinely enjoy my life just the way it is. I like the freedom and the simplicity. I like the lack of drama, and the quiet sense of unity, and the cleanness of it. After 39 years of shaping my life around the expectations and demands of other people, I’m discovering an unexpected peace and joy in simply tending to my own spirit for a change. That sounds horribly selfish, but I can’t help it. It’s where I’m at right now.

And that was my weekend, and the rest of my week is even busier. Sadly, my immediate future is mostly full of oil changes and smog checks and doctor’s appointments and school meetings and similarly unblogworthy events, so if there’s a long dry spell that’s why. I’ll be back when things slow down a bit!

Categories: Animals, Family, food, Friends, Horses, kids, Life, Ranching | 2 Comments

Sampler Saturday: Gericault

This is an excerpt from a comic that Elizabeth drew earlier this summer, called “Gericault The Crime Fighting Dog.” Our dog Gericault excels at catching rabbits, and Elizabeth decided to…um…embroider the details with a bit of artistic license. I found it highly amusing.

Categories: Animals, Artwork, books, Comics, Dogs, Family, kids, Sampler Saturday | Tags: | 1 Comment

Carrots

Luke’s loaner horse Beau went back to his owners last spring, so for a while I was giving him lessons on Stormy. That worked out really well — my good old mare went out of her way to reassure him and build up his confidence. But then she caught a nasty respiratory bug and was under the weather for a couple of weeks, so we decided it was time to put Luke back on Trinket.

They got off to a shaky start — Trinket can be one stubborn little pony if she thinks she can get away with it — but after one scary bolting incident Luke decided he’d finally had enough. From that point on he never let down his guard, never gave her an inch, and she sensed the change and fell reluctantly into line.

A week or so ago Luke decided that it wasn’t enough for him just to bend Trinket to his will. He wanted her to love him. And being Problem Solver Guy, he quickly Came Up With A Plan To Make It Happen.

So now when I go out to feed the horses, he comes with me and gives Trinket a carrot. She’s begun to look for him, and trots up to him with a friendly eagerness that’s very unlike her former surly aloofness.

It makes me happy that Luke wasn’t content with just mastering Trinket, that he wants her affection and willing cooperation. It makes me happy that he thought of the carrot idea on his own and hasn’t missed a single day since he started. And also that he carefully washes each carrot before giving it to her.

I know that right now Trinket’s mostly just loving the carrots. But I hope Luke’s devotion will pay off in the long run, and a real friendship will form to replace the combative relationship they’ve had in the past. And I’m deeply grateful that at the tender age of eight my son has already realized that sometimes the carrot speaks louder than the stick.

Happy Love Thursday, and may we all remember the beauty of the carrot whenever we’re tempted to reach for the nearest stick.

Categories: Animals, Family, Horses, kids, Life, Love, Love Thursday | Leave a comment

Sampler Saturday

Due to popular demand, Elizabeth’s artwork and comics will be making regular appearances here on the blog!

My first thought was to post her comic books in their entirety, a page or two at a time, but in all honesty I don’t think her storylines are sophisticated enough yet to work well in a serial format. Also, she’d have fifteen new books written/drawn in the time it took me to post one whole story. Prolificacy, thy name is Elizabeth.

So instead I’ve decided to pick my favorite bit from each week’s output, and offer those here every Saturday as a regular weekly feature. I chose this week’s excerpt from “Dragon, Book II” not because it contains any particularly remarkable art, but just because I like the story it tells.

It’s interesting to me that in all of Elizabeth’s drawings, the people are depicted as nearly featureless stick figures while the animals are rendered in loving detail. Hmmmm….

Categories: Animals, Artwork, books, Comics, Dragons, Family, kids, Life, Sampler Saturday | 2 Comments

The Sting

I like bees. Me and bees have always gotten along just fine. When I was a kid I used to like to pick them up and let them crawl around on me, just to show what misunderstood creatures they really are. Even wasps, to a lesser degree. I am less likely to trust a wasp, probably because they can sting without any cost to themselves and they tend to get aggressive in the Fall, but by and large I have a live-and-let-live approach to our wasp friends. I remember when I was nine or ten, we lived in this house that had huge wasps’ nest under the eaves and all along one fence. I used to get right up next to them and peer into the teeming industry inside, so close that the wasps would land on my cheek before crawling into the nest. On the very few occasions when I’ve actually been stung, it was always because I’d accidentally stepped on one barefoot, or unintentionally disturbed a nest or some such. And the sting itself has never been a big deal — a little bump, some relatively minor pain, and then some itching, and then gone by the next day.

So yesterday I was sorting some trash into piles out behind one of the sheds, when for no apparent reason a wasp flew over and stung the everloving bajeebers out of my upper lip, just under my nose. Multiple times in rapid succession. I’m not sure how many times, because there are only two holes, but one is much bigger than the other as if that spot got hit several times. Anyway. The immediate pain was freaking unbelievable. I stumbled into the house, eyes streaming, clawed through Luke’s first aid kit for a packet of insect sting relief, and frantically applied it to my already-swelling lip. As far as I could tell it had no effect at all. I switched to a baking soda paste. No relief, and by now my whole upper lip was about four times its normal size. I’d heard that vinegar is supposed to help stings, so I dabbed some of that on. I think that may have actually made the burning worse. Now my cheeks were starting to swell. I called my friend Julie, and she said I should take some Benadryl, which I didn’t have any of in the house. I considered driving into town for some, but by now my face was pretty much balloon-shaped and I didn’t want to frighten any small children. Or risk having my eyes swell shut in mid-trip.

So I gritted my teeth and called Steve, whose parents’ house is practically an entire well-stocked pharmacy unto itself, and asked him if he could bring me some Benadryl. He drove some down as far as my back gate, and Elizabeth ran up and fetched it from there. I’m beginning to find his refusal to set tire on my property genuinely amusing…but I digress. I popped a Benadryl with all due gratitude, and popped a second one half an hour later when things didn’t seem to be improving, and then at 7:55pm I told the kids to put themselves to bed and stumbled off to a drug-induced loss of consciousness.

I woke up at three-something this morning, still looking a bit like the Sta-Puft Marshmallow Man, but the swelling was definitely going down. Whew!

I’d planned to take a load of scrap metal to the recyclers today, but I wasn’t really fit for public consumption yet, so I decided to take a break from the whole cleaning project and do some work in the garden. It felt really good to be puttering around in the cool, damp soil again, and before I knew it I’d turned over several spent beds and planted my fall crops. I am very happy about that, because this is only the second year I’ve ever managed to put in a fall garden, and the first year I’ve actually put one in the ground instead of containers.

By the time all that was done my face was looking almost normal; not good enough for actually interacting with people, but human enough to make a couple of runs to the dump.

With Steve gone, these trips to the dump always tickle my sense of the absurd. I drive a teensy toy Saturn, and when I’m hauling out large-ish pieces of scrap lumber and such I fold the back seats down to make the teensy toy trunk a little bigger. I’ve gotten rather good at arranging the variously-shaped pieces with Tetris-like precision to eliminate wasted space and squeeze in as much crap as possible, but there’s always this mildly sardonic voice in my ear pointing out that no matter how efficiently I pack it, it’s rather like a chipmunk with his cheeks crammed full of seeds. Sure, it LOOKS impressive…but it’s still just a mouthful of seeds. The two loads I hauled to the dump today, combined, would have filled maybe one fourth of Steve’s truck bed.

Today this task was complicated by my involuntary and uncharacteristic flinching every time a wasp flew too near. There are a lot of them around this time of year, and for the first time I was watching them with wary suspicion instead of friendly benevolence. I think we are no longer simpatico, the wasps and I. I think I will be picking up a few wasp traps on my next trip to Temecula.

Next thing you know the BUNNIES will be attacking!

Categories: Animals, Gardening, Life, Wildlife | 2 Comments

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