Tumbleweed Troubles

After a big wind storm, I walked outside to find this on my lawn...

Tumbleweeds against my fence. (Note the crack in the blinds as I am being watched while taking the picture. I've got nosy neighbors on all sides now.) Then I walked over to the fence by the horse paddock and found another big pile there...

Then I looked over at my neighbors' lot to the south...

They've had dozens of these piles of dried sagebrush just sitting on their lot for months now. Every year they bring in all these prisoners to do community service by raking all their sagebrush into piles on their lot until they dry out and turn into lightweight tumbleweeds that the wind can blow away. Apparently, they are too lazy to take it all to the dump or burn it, so they just wait for a wind to come along and blow it all over their tiny fence into my yard...

The man who lives there is a fire fighter. You'd think he'd be more conscientious about the fire danger of having piles of dried brush surrounding his house.

Some people just don't care how their actions affect others. I also spend my weekends picking up their trash, because they never bother to put lids on their cans and try to anchor them down. Thanks for all the extra work, guys. May you have lousy neighbors in your next life... or sooner.

I'm not kidding when I say I'm getting it from all directions. The neighbor closest to me is having a new roof installed, which means more neighborhood noise. This is the lady who has a knack for always picking the best horse training in the round pen weather in June and September to schedule all her major construction projects.

I have a To Do List that is two pages long, typed, and single-spaced. I had hoped to knock some of that down over my staycation last week, but I ended up being sick the majority of the week. What began with allergies led into debilitating headaches which indirectly led into having to schedule a bunch of doctor and lab appointments to rearrange all my medications to find other options for those that cause high blood pressure which indirectly led into a case of Salmonella poisoning which very directly led into additional health problems and everything has gone downhill from there. My white blood cell count must be off the charts at the moment, because those little guys don't know which infection to fight first.

I returned to work for one day and then had to call in sick because there was no way I could drive an hour to the office, sit in a chair for 8 hours and drive another hour back home without something inside my body exploding. I slept all morning in sweats, a sweater, my thickest socks and gloves while I shivered despite it being 80 degrees outside, then stumbled outside in the afternoon to fill up the horses' water troughs. Some strange man I've never seen before was standing in my nosy neighbor's front yard staring at me in my not-so-private back yard.

He kept wandering over to the front door, knocking as hard as he could and yelling out my neighbor's name. I knew she was home, but this man must not have called ahead of time, because she hides from people she's not expecting. He must have known she was home too, because he refused to leave. He just kept wandering over to my fence watching me when I felt like hell having just rolled out of bed after a long illness and the last thing I wanted was for people to stare at me.

I went to a chair behind my horse trailer to rest while the water troughs were filling. I thought I could sit there and have some privacy, but the man came over to the one spot in the fence where he could see me around the horse trailer and he continued staring. Why are there so many creeps in this world? I thought about opening the door and sigging the dogs on him, but the horses were out and they would have stomped on the dogs.

Then the man started calling me over to him, but I was in too much pain. I couldn't walk with shredded intestines, and even throwing my voice out hurt, so I chose to ignore him. I didn't want to go in the house to escape his unwanted attention, because I knew I would instantly forget about the hose running, and it would flood the yard. Plus I felt so drained and in so much pain that I wanted to avoid taking any unnecessary extra steps. This is one of those illnesses where if you roll out of bed, you don't have the strength to get up off the floor, so you just lay there for an hour.

Anyway, my neighbors' business is not my business, so I'm not willing to take messages for them. These people have been such a pain in my butt all these years that I don't want to associate with them or their endless stream of visitors in anyway whatsoever. I could tell that the man was contemplating walking down the street and up my driveway into my back yard to get my attention. Fortunately, right then my neighbor FINALLY came out of her house to ask him what he wanted. I staggered over to the spigot to turn off the water and went back to bed.

Curbing Aggression

Between me being so busy, it being so hot outside, and me having headaches all week, the animals have been lacking in my attention. Today I witnessed a couple of incidents involving animal aggression, which is behavior I won't tolerate. In one case, I was trying to give my Corgi Midge some attention by playing our "bark-kick" game. I say "bark" and she barks, I say "kick" and she kicks her hind leg out, then I say "bark-kick" and she barks and kicks at the same time. It's really quite hilarious.

Apparently, Scrappy, the new dog, found our game to be disturbing. I don't know if he misinterpreted Midge's behavior as aggression toward me and he was trying to protect me, or if he thought she was being aggressive toward him, or if he was just plain jealous that I was playing with her and not paying attention to him, but he lunged at Midge with his teeth bared and growling. Without thinking, I stuck my arm out to block him and he bounced off my arm into an obedient sitting position, looking at me quizzically. I said, "Biting is a no-no! We don't bite in this house."

I think he got the point, because he didn't try anything after that. My daughter commented that if I adopt an older, smaller dog, Midge will kick its butt. She was wrong. Midge was totally intimidated after that attack and she cut him a wide berth for a while afterward. I didn't want her to be afraid of her new buddy, so I worked with both of them on playing games. Scrappy acted like no one has played with him before, but he's very smart and he quickly learned how to play nicely. Midge began to feel more comfortable with him, and now is a little more open to interacting with him.

The other incident happened when I walked outside to feed the horses. Gabbrielle pinned her ears back, snaked her neck out, and bit Bombay on the neck, drawing blood. I was furious. I have seen more blood pour out of Bombay on a daily basis this summer that I can't believe that horse has enough blood in him to still be standing. Usually, he injures himself, but this was the first time I witnessed another horse hurting him.

I grabbed the long whip and began herding Gabbrielle around. At first all the horses took off at a gallop until they realized that I was singling out Gabbrielle. Then Lostine hid in her stall while Bombay tried to rub it in by attempting to corner Gabbrielle so that she couldn't get away. Bombay and I made quite a team herding her around together. I liked the fact that Bombay inserted himself into Gabbrielle's little lesson on respect, because it allowed him to rise higher in the pecking order, which will probably result in him having less horse-inflicted injuries in the future. When we were done with her, she was actually hugging up against Bombay for protection. Girls can be so fickle.

I didn't whip her, nor did I chase her. I just controlled her movements by either stepping in her path to block and turn her, or cracking the whip to keep her moving. When she showed signs of respect, I lowered the whip and approached her to pet her and make nice-nice. We'll see how long the lesson lasts.

On another note, I was amazed to discover just how much of what I say that the dogs and horses understand. Earlier in the day I was rubbing a wipe with fly spray onto Bombay's face, telling him that it's nice and cool, and it will keep the flies away. At first he ran away from the wipe, but when I explained it to him verbally, he stopped and let me rub it on his face.

I looked up to see some guy walking past on the other side of the fence looking at me and shaking his head like I'm crazy to be talking to a horse. I gave him dagger eyes for not minding his own business. My nosy neighbors have solicited the help of some other neighbors who live across the highway to do some work around their ranch, so now I have even more people traipsing up and down the road looking into my yard all day and night. It doesn't matter if I go out to see my horses at 5:00 AM or 9:00 PM, there are always people in my neighbors' yard.

Anyway, during feeding time Bombay was walking toward me while I was tossing hay to the mares. I said to Bombay, "Go back to your own food trough and wait."

I swear to you, he instantly turned and went back to his own food trough, then stood over it waiting quietly for his feed. Does that mean he understands English and can translate every word into horse-speak? No. It just means that he knows the intention of my words.

Scrappy is also quickly picking up on my catch phrases like "pee-pee outside" and "time to eat". He tries to be stubborn about some things, like refusing to go outside when I open the door, but I'm teaching him that it's not an option. If I say "outside", Scrappy must go outside. I think he got away with a lot of naughty behavior in his previous home. I'll get him into shape in no time. Horses and dogs feel safer when they have someone who says what she means, and means what she says taking care of them.

Meet Scrappy!

I found Scrappy through the Internet at an animal shelter that is quite a ways away from my home, but fairly close to my office, so I decided to inquire about him to see if I could visit him at the shelter one day over my lunch break when I am in the office. It was then that I found out that he was recovering from bladder stone surgery in a foster home, and the foster parents were thinking of adopting him. However, because I showed an interest, they agreed to let me adopt him if things worked out.

Scrappy is an interesting dog. He's got a Dachshund head and a Pug body, but without the curly tail.

The foster parents returned him to the shelter so that I could see him. I immediately knew he was the dog for me: Older, smaller, short-haired, quiet, sweet, cute, adorable, and likes to sit in laps.

However, he seemed a bit subdued like he wasn't feeling well. We turned him over and saw that his incision was red and swollen. So, the animal control officer took him to the vet while I went home empty-handed, but promising to return the next week. His vet visit checked out okay. The vet said that the redness and swelling was normal after surgery, that Scrappy wasn't showing any signs of pain and he didn't have an elevated temperature. So, I agreed to adopt him on Wednesday, after he had another week to heal and recover.

I had a doctor's appointment up in the city and was supposed to call the animal control officer when I was done to give her an idea of when I'd arrive on Wednesday. On the way to the doctor's office, I saw that I was almost out of gas, and I pulled into my regular gas station where I have never had to wait in line. However, on this day there was a long line and a long wait, so I had to turn around and leave. I just hoped I could get where I needed to go without running out of gas.

Once out of the doctor's office, I picked up my cell phone to call the animal control officer, and my phone started beeping because the battery was dying. I hoped I could just have a few seconds to spit out that I was on my way. However, she put me on hold, and my battery instantly died. Ugh. This was quite literally the first time my cell phone battery died in the past four years that I've owned this phone. Between that and the freak traffic jam at the gas station, I was beginning to get superstitious, thinking perhaps this adoption was not meant to be.

I decided to just race up the mountain and across the state border to try to get there before she left for her lunch break. Cops were crawling all over the place. I've never seen so many speed traps. So, I had to keep within the speed limit and just trust that I would reach the shelter before it closed.

I was supposed to stop at my office to drop off some equipment, but there was no time, so I skipped it and went straight to the shelter. When I walked in, the shelter office was jam-packed with people and puppies. They had found a stray Australian Shepard that had about nine puppies and people were flocking in to claim theirs. Scrappy was sitting in a cage under the desk growling and barking at all these puppies and people. I thought, "Oh no! I'm adopting a barker. I hope he doesn't bark at everything that moves when I get him home."

The animal control officer informed me that if I was the person who called who she put on hold, she completely forgot about me and apologized. I explained that my cell phone battery died, so I wasn't on the line for long. Pretty funny.

Then she informed me of something that wasn't so funny and made me question this adoption further. She said she had to take Scrappy to the hospital on Saturday, because he had blood in his urine. The medication he was on after his surgery was the wrong kind, so the doctor corrected it and now he's on the mend, but I will have to give him his medication over the next few weeks. I'll also have to bring him back to California for his follow up appointment and get him his rabies vaccination and tag once he's off the medication. Sigh. That's what I was trying to avoid by leaving him at the shelter another week while he finished up his vet appointments and medications. I have so little time to be taking on added responsibilities. That's why I chose an older dog. I don't have the time to potty train a puppy.

Well, considering that the doctor just had to put me on some new medication and gave me several assignments to monitor my health, it looks like I'll just have to make time for the both of us. Scrappy and I are a couple of old farts who are out of shape and need special care.

I signed the adoption papers and there was a long, teary farewell from the people who work at the shelter. Scrappy had been their front office dog since June and they had become attached to him. They gave me a cat bed to keep him in on the long ride home. It had cat hair all over it, which I am allergic to. My doctor had just told me not to take anything with decongestant in it, or my blood pressure could reach epic proportions and I'm already at risk of a stroke or heart attack. I knew I'd have to take something after being given a cat bed covered in cat hair.

Scrappy sat quietly in that cat bed as I drove to the office to drop off the equipment, then drove to a gas station to fill up the tank. He was so good and patient. I expected him to be vomiting from car sickness around all those curves all the way down the mountain, but it didn't phase him.

I got him home and Midge had an excited barking fit, but didn't attack him. They treated each other with respect. I told Midge that I brought him home for her. Now she has a doggy buddy. She's quite pleased. but she's still checking the dog house for her dear departed friend Monty.

Scrappy promptly ran around the house investigating every room. I thought it was cute until he started spraying to mark his territory. The dog is neutered, but I guess he still has that need to spray. I promptly kicked him outside where he sprayed every square inch of the fence line. Once he got that out of his system, he settled down and went to sleep.

He's only had one barking fit since he's been home, and that was because the barking pack of dogs across the street got going about something. Once he saw it was nothing important, he quieted down.

I put his pill in his dog food and he actually ate it. I didn't have to shove it down his throat. So, all the things I was worried about were things I really didn't need to worry about. He's been greeting everyone who walks in the door in a friendly manner, so I think he's adopted us as much as we have adopted him. He won't let me out of his sight. Each time I get up to walk into another room, he follows. I try to sneak away quietly when he's sleeping, but he instantly wakes and follows me.

I carried him outside to meet the horses, and he was a bit intimidated as they snuffed at him with their large snouts. He struggled a little in my arms to get away from them. I kissed the horses on their muzzles to show him that they are okay and they don't bite.

He's already taking on the role of guarding the house and he's only been here a few hours. We left the front door open with the screen door closed, and a truck drove up the street and honked. Scrappy ran to the screen door and growled.

We know that Scrappy was his original name, because he has a microchip. The animal shelter tried to contact Scrappy's owner at least four times and got no response. I like calling him Scraps, but no one else in my family likes the name. My son calls him Frankenstein because Scrappy has stitches. Midge just calls him Ruff.

Tahoe Rim Letterboxing Trip

I've been trying to find time to finish planting my letterboxes and find some letterboxes planted around the east side of Lake Tahoe. My son is going back to school on Monday, so letterboxing was a great way to spend some time with him before summer's end. The weatherman said we'd have 40 to 50 MPH winds, but we actually ended up having rain on and off with an occasional breeze.

We started out finding a letterbox at Spooner Lake, then drove across Highway 50 to plant our own letterbox near the trail head of the Tahoe Rim Trail. This trail is supposed to be a horseback riding trail, but I found it to be way too steep. It might be better fitted for a mule.

We drove down Highway 50 to Logan Shoals Vista Point to find another letterbox and enjoy the view. A man offered to take our picture together. It astounds me how much taller my son is than I am. He's even taller than his father.

You can see the wind on the lake...

I've been driving around Lake Tahoe to get to and from my jobs over the years, and I'm always jealous of the tourists on vacation who have time to enjoy it. All I can do is drive past on my way to work and home. Today I actually got to stop at a vista and appreciate the view.

Here's a picture of one of the letterboxes we found along the way. We won't show you where it was hidden, though. That's cheating.

We got to drive through that tunnel on our way to our next letterbox hunt...

We located the third letterbox near a market, then drove into South Lake Tahoe to eat lunch at Big Daddy's Burgers, the most delicious burgers on earth. If you are ever in SLT, I recommend you stop there.

We decided to go to the Adidas store at the Y. When we walked in the door we were informed that for everything we buy, a second item will be half price. My son was able to gather a lot of athletic wear he needs for track, and we both found new shoes. I remember there was a clue in which someone planted a letterbox in a store around there, but I didn't print it out, because I didn't think we would travel that far south. I had to guess which store it was. That was rather humorous, because I would walk into each store and ask, "Do you have a letterbox?"

Then the clerk would either say no, ask me what a letterbox is, or point me toward a box that could hold letters. One lady didn't want to let me leave her store until she found me a letterbox, so I had to explain that it's a game. I never found the right store.

We then drove to the other side of the Tahoe Rim Trail off Kingsbury Grade. I had high hopes to bring my horses to this trail until we stumbled upon these stone steps. I'm sure Lisa and Apache could make it up and down those steps since they've been practicing at home, but my horses would probably poop up a storm and break out into a nervous sweat just looking at that climb. They still occasionally spook at rocks. Sigh.

Oh well, no loss. I really didn't think I could haul my horse trailer up the steep grade to the trail head anyway.

Along the way we ran into a Fire Marshall and a Park Ranger. I think they were out looking for fires started by lightning strikes, but fortunately I didn't see any lightning or hear any thunder. We just got rained on.

My son misses taking his gymnastics class, I think...

Along this trail is a series of four letterboxes. The first was fairly easy to find. The second said to look to the right, but we found the letterbox to the left.

We went way too far in our search for the third letterbox and we weren't seeing any of the markers described in the clue, so we turned around and headed back. We halfheartedly looked for the third and fourth letterboxes in the series, but were really too tired by now to care whether we found them or not. We didn't.

After leaving the Tahoe Rim Trail, we searched for one last letterbox, but when I saw the climb, I said forget it. My legs were cramped up after six hours of hiking.

We set out to find 8 letterboxes, added in a 9th, and found 5. That's a record for me to find in one day. If I could give up my entire weekend, there are plenty more letterboxes around the west side of the lake as well. However, I think I'm letterboxed out. I'll look for more next summer.

I told my son that his guardian angel is floating above him in this picture...

But he insists it is a sun spot.

Emerald Cones

I laid out all my appointments, errands and chores that I need to squeeze into the next week on paper and realized I will have no free time on my staycation. So, I was trying to figure out the fastest, least expensive way to fix my Peeping Tom problem.

A lot of people have suggestions, but they don't know my set up. I can't plant something big underneath the window, because there is a concrete patio there. There's no point in erecting a fence, because we already have a fence and the neighbors can see right over it thanks to differences in elevation between properties. I also can't build another fence closer to the window, because the concrete patio takes up 90% of the yard. We have a huge apple tree in front of the fence, but it just misses blocking their view of our bathroom window if they are at their garage.

I've lived here 16 years and these neighbors rarely used their garage or hung out by my fence. Then the owner started renting out her guest house, and the man who moved in uses the garage quite a bit, especially when I'm naked and getting in the shower. The guy is like 70-years-old, so he doesn't scare me. He's just rude by not keeping his eyes within his own property line.

Going into the city for any kind of shopping takes a minimum of three hours, which I can't spare. I could order a different window treatment or shrub over the Internet, but it would take weeks to arrive unless I'm willing to pay through the nose for overnight shipping. Then I remembered a nursery we have just a few miles from our house. I asked my son to drive me in his pick-up truck there over my lunch break.

I told the nursery worker that I wanted something I could keep in a pot that is about 8 to 10 feet tall and thick that I can use as a privacy screen in front of a bathroom window on a patio. The guy's eyes got all big as he immediately went into a panic knowing he didn't have anything that would help. It's really hard to find anything that survives around here.

He first took me to a deciduous Maple tree that was way too big to fit in front of my bathroom window without blocking the patio sliding glass door, which I need my clients to be able to walk in and out of once my photography studio is set up. Plus once the thing loses its leaves, people can still see right into my bathroom window. I could plant it in my lawn, but that takes time I don't have, and the gap that would be needed between it and the apple tree would just leave a gap for the Peeping Tom. Plus it's one more tree to maneuver the lawn mower around, which we don't need.

He then showed me a small willow tree that looked like an umbrella, but it would need to eventually be replanted in the ground. It could only survive in the pot for a couple of years. The top portion needed to be just the right height to cover my bathroom window, so I didn't want to take any chances on it.

He suggested that I buy a vine from him, and then go up into the city to buy a trellis, but I didn't have the time.

He showed me a huge evergreen juniper-type tree, but again it would have to be planted in the ground sooner than later. I settled on a couple of Emerald Cones that can grow to be 25-feet tall, and need to be in shade, which they would get being in the corner of a patio surrounded by walls. These were just recently replanted in larger pots. He said I'll have to eventually replant in even larger pots, but that won't be for several more years. Deal!

They aren't quite tall and thick enough yet to offer total coverage when the window is all the way open, but they definitely help.

Unfortunately, the pots block our ability to turn the water spigot on and off, so we'll have to shove them to the side when we need to water. Once one of them gets thick enough, I'll probably move the other one to the other side of the patio and that will solve the new spigot problem.

Now I can keep the window open and enjoy the breeze.

What To Do With The Manure 2

The gentleman who came by to pick up my manure said he'd be back in a couple of days for the rest of it, but I didn't hear from him again. I figured he realized it was too much work. So, after a few weeks I posted another ad for free horse manure. This time I got two bites. One man wasn't willing to communicate via email and insisted that I call him.

Ummmm, no. I am in phone conferences all day with my job, so I can't pick up another phone while I'm in a meeting to make personal phone calls. And if he doesn't answer, then I have to leave a message and next thing I know I'm stuck in a game of telephone tag. I don't appreciate getting called in from the barn to answer the house phone while I'm in the middle of chores and losing my daylight fast. I blew him off.

Email is so much easier for me, because I can type out a response to an email while participating in a meeting over the phone. The other man was fine communicating through email, so I told him the entire pile is his if he wants it. I forewarned him that no one here could help him shovel, and it's really hard work, so he might want to bring some helpers. He said it shouldn't be a problem for him. When he showed up I understood why. He was a body builder.

He's a really friendly guy, but he keeps coming to our door and ringing our doorbell to tell us when he arrives and when he leaves, which gets our dog into barking fits. He's very appreciative for someone who is doing an awful lot of work to obtain a huge pile of cr*p. He's been by twice, has had to reschedule once, and is planning to come back four more times. I'm going to have to explain to him that I work out of my home and I'd rather that he just help himself to the manure quietly. If I see his truck on my property, I know who he is and why he's there. We don't need to have an hour-long conversation every time he stops by. He stops by after work and is in the mood to socialize, but both my husband and I are starting work on our second jobs right then. We need to be at our desks.

In the meantime, the first man who picked up my manure contacted me again and said he wanted more. I told him I had given up on him since he said he'd be back in a couple of days and several weeks passed. My manure was piling up faster than he was picking it up, so I had to take out another ad. He seemed annoyed and said that he needed to set a time to come by ASAP because he was planning a vacation and wanted to get this project done before leaving. Hey, I wasn't the one who waited several weeks to pick up more manure. Previously I had told him I'm always home and to pick a day and time that is convenient for him, but I meant on a weekday. This time he chose 7:00 AM on a Saturday.

Ummmmmmm. No. He's retired. I work all week. If I can sleep in on the weekends, I do. He had sent the email around 9:00 PM on Friday night telling me he was coming at 7:00 AM the next day, and I didn't see it because I was already in bed. Fortunately, by the time I saw his email, he had already sent out another saying he couldn't make it. Then he rescheduled for Sunday, my trail riding day. I told him he would have to come in the afternoon or evening and I didn't get a response.

I cut my trail ride short to get home by afternoon to let him in through the gate, and when I got home I found another cancellation from him. Sigh. This guy was turning out to be a real pain in the butt. All I wanted was for one person to come by and haul my manure away, but I ended up juggling my schedule repeatedly on a daily basis because of people who kept changing their minds. Now the second guy is on vacation and the first guy is threatening to go on vacation. All I know is that I'm not willing to let either of them come by and suck up all my time once I'm on my staycation. That's my alone time. I bought myself a week to clear my head, and I can't do it if I've got people stopping by my house every evening to chat.

I don't know what it is about me, but people who meet me for the first time often spill their guts and tell me their life story. I had that happen to me again this weekend when I did the marketing. The checker asked how I was doing and I said something to the effect of being fine, but wishing I had a three-day weekend so I could get more done. Normally, I would ask how the other person is doing in return, but I was so tired and unaware that my immune system was busy fighting off a virus. I just wanted to get the groceries home and go to bed.

However, the checker started telling me the story of her life, which was terribly sad. I actually got all teary-eyed listening to her troubles. It was obvious that she needed to get some stuff off her chest, because she kept asking other customers waiting in line to go to another checkout stand. She wanted to finish her conversation with me. It felt more like we were having a therapy session than purchasing groceries in the market.

I've always thought that working 8 to 10 hours a day standing at a checkout station scanning groceries would be a hard life. I see a lot of checkers wearing wrist guards and back braces. I can totally understand how a checker would want to have a meaningful conversation with a customer every once in a while. I gave her my sympathies without judgment. I'm a bit of an enigma, because even though I can be really harsh when talking about my nosy neighbors or people who have offended me, I am really good about not judging people who get trapped into undesirable situations. It happens to the best of us.

When I was younger and less jaded, I had way more patience with people, even the mindless ones who screw up their own lives and expect someone else to fix it. I was really good at helping people release grief and in diffusing their anger and guilt. I think I got burnt out soaking up all those negative emotions, so now I pretty much avoid people when I can. Having strangers come over to pick up my manure probably wasn't a good idea in the first place, because even though it saved me the time and physical labor of having to spread it myself, I ultimately lost more time dealing with the people who came (and didn't come) to pick it up.

Mr. Flaky, who previously insisted that he was in a rush to get more manure, ended up canceling for most of this week due to it being too hot. I suspected he was planning another 7:00 AM on Saturday run and I knew I had to put a stop to that. You see, I suspect he comes by mainly just to talk. Both Mr. Talky and Mr. Flaky are big talkers and time consumers. I told him I'm in phone conferences all week and to not knock on the door, but just let me know what time he's coming by in advance and I'll keep the gate open for him. So, I suspect he wants to come by on the weekend, so he can tell me his life story.

I sent him an email letting him know that I won't be available from Saturday for the next week, so if he's in a rush he should stop by Thursday or Friday -- otherwise wait until September. Of course, I will be around for the next week, but this is the last of my vacation days for the year and I have to use them wisely by knocking as much off my To Do List as possible, and I can't be doing that if this guy holds me captive with his conversation. Mr. Flaky did respond with, "I'll try to come by some time in the morning."

I'm leaving the gate open, but not holding my breath.

So, heed my warning: If you don't have a lot of spare time, don't advertise your manure for free.

Smoke and Mirrors

Early this morning at the crack of dawn, my dog started getting nervous about something she sensed going on outside. I opened the back door to let her out and saw smoke floating across the neighborhood. Thinking my neighbor's house was on fire, I ran barefoot in my pajamas across a minefield of dog poop to get a visual of exactly where the fire was located.

Instead of fire, I found my horses galloping around the paddock kicking tons of dust into the air. I mean this dust was floating through the yards of all my neighbors to the north. Bombay was doing one of his dances on hind legs and I hollered at him to settle down. He's had a bug up his butt about something lately, and he keeps playing practical jokes on Gabbrielle. Then Gabbrielle gets irritated about being teased and she threatens to kick him. Well, I guess those threats have turned into the real thing because I found yet another cut on Bombay's hind leg last night -- most likely from getting kicked.

I ran back inside to get my camera in hopes of catching Bombay on disk having the fitz, but all the horses stopped their shenanigans as soon as I came outside. I did get some dust in one picture just as it was settling. I snapped off other photos, but they didn't come out because the last person to use my camera had it set on a slow shutter speed and I didn't have time to check the settings. I thought the camera was still set to the fastest shutter speed after I took those pole vaulting shots. That keeps happening to me, so I think I'll set my point-and-shoot camera out for the grabbing since I don't have to worry about settings with that one. Here's Bombay saying, "Who? What? Me?"

Trouble maker.

I laid back down on the couch with Midge and tried to get more sleep. I left the back door open to let in cool air. I began singing a silly song to my dog when she suddenly started barking growling at the back door. The guy who is staying in my neighbor's guest house had come out again to loiter by my fence. I can't leave any windows or doors open and make any noise, or he comes to the fence to investigate. This was at 6:45 or so in the morning. Geez.

Midge was so scared by his snooping that she ran into my son's bedroom to hide. I shut and locked the back door to keep Mr. Creepy's eyes out. A short time later I started up the shower, but kept an eye out through the crack in the window for Mr. Creepy, knowing that he listens for my shower and always magically appears at the fence of my back yard every time I turn it on.

A few days ago I was keeping an eye out for him, because he backs his truck down to the garage and pretends to be loading or unloading stuff from the bed, but the whole time he's looking in my bathroom window. So, I was expecting him and his truck to appear, but they didn't. I got undressed, walked to the shower, and somehow within those few seconds that I turned my back on the window and got undressed, he and his truck appeared. You'd think I'd hear the engine, but I didn't hear anything.

So, there I was standing totally naked in front of the window and there he was looking directly at me. I jumped back and hid behind a wall only to realize that he could still see me in the mirror. I looked in the mirror and sure enough, he was still watching me. I ran to the window and slammed it shut, annoyed that once again I had to take a stuffy shower without any air to thin out the steam thanks to my Peeping Tom neighbor. I've slammed the bathroom window in his face many times before, so you'd think he'd be too embarrassed to keep coming back for more.

This morning I was waiting for him to show up as soon as I turned on the shower, but he didn't, so I left the window open a crack. When I got out of the shower, I was careful to look out the window to make sure he wasn't around. He wasn't. I finished getting dressed, turned around, and there he was again! He had materialized out of thin air and I could only guess at where he had been hiding and how long he had been watching me get dressed.

I've had it on my To Do List for years to hire a handyman to install a ceiling fan or air vent in that bathroom so that I don't have to keep the window open, but I've always had higher priorities. Keeping the window open a crack had solved our black mold problem, but now this guest of my neighbor is bringing that problem back by forcing me to close the window. I'd kind of like to get a fake sniper rifle and stick it through the crack in the window and see if that solves the problem. It might be cheaper than knocking a hole in my ceiling.

It's August 18th!

Dad says, "Happy Birthday!"...

So, does Mom...

Let's not forget your little brother...

Wait. That's a Chinese baby girl. Must be from your little sister of the summer. This hamster sends birthday wishes from Midge, Bombay, Lostine, and Gabbrielle...

Oh, and let's not forget Grandma...

Love you.

Little By Little

We're making progress little by little in reaching goals. When you have little spare time, problems get solved slowly. My husband repaired the leaking water tank hose in the horse trailer for me yesterday. That's one less thing I have to worry about. Dumping the water out of that trash can I was using to catch it was getting to be a daily job for me. Also, my husband and son figured out a plan on how to get the car to the mechanic in the city for repairs without me having to take more time off from work. Huge help.

Bombay healed himself and Mr. and Mrs. Mom helped me figure out Gabbrielle's health issues and what the next step would be in her healing. She has an old injury in the right shoulder and needs an equine chiropractor and some joint supplements. I was able to perform a little test that verified that her pain is in the right shoulder.

I've also slowly been making progress on my Corgi's problem of suddenly being the only dog in the house. It is clear that she is lonely without other dogs around. I've been doing my best keeping her busy with walks and playtime, but she still spends a huge chunk of her day just lying around feeling sad while I am at my desk working.

I've been searching the sites that the local animal shelters use to display their adoptable pets, looking for an older, smaller, short-haired dog to keep Midge company. I know some of you feel I should get a large, intimidating guard dog to chase off the trespassing neighbors, but the whole reason why I have to work from home is because my two dogs who have passed on, Monty and Simba, used to bark all day long if we left them at home outside while we went to work, and the neighbors' complained. One next-door neighbor has been trying to run a sort-of bed and breakfast out of her guesthouse, and my dogs were annoying her guests, so she was losing business. Right now we've got some new neighbors who have a pack of dogs who bark all day while they are at work, and with me trying to work from home, the barking can become like a Chinese water torture. I totally understand. I do not want to bring another barker into the neighborhood. I also don't want a dog that is so big that I can't get around my house without tripping over him.

I also would really like to have a lap dog. Nothing relaxes me more at the end of a hard day than a warm, little creature sitting in my lap. I can't own cats, rabbits or guinea pigs, because I'm allergic. My Corgi Midge will sit in my lap for a minute or two, and then she's bounding off for her next adventure. She only sits in my lap to humor me, but she'd much rather be in her Daddy's lap. He's always been number one with her.

In my Internet searches I found a Dachshund mix that was an older dog who is fully trained. I know Dachshunds like to play, so I thought this little guy might be a good match for Midge and a lap dog for me. I inquired about him and found out he wasn't at the shelter, but was in foster care after having a bladder stone removed. The foster parents wanted to adopt him, but were willing to let me take him home.

I visited him yesterday and found that he was perfect. I took him for a little walk in the mountains. He was really quiet. I didn't hear a single yap out of him. He also sat in my lap without struggling or trying to get away. The animal control officer said that he wasn't his usual self. Normally, he had much more energy, so she thought he was depressed from being returned to the shelter. I had the full intention to take him home with me that day.

Then I asked the question of whether he still had stitches that needed to be removed from his surgery. The animal control officer wasn't sure. She said, "Let's turn him over and see."

We found that he was all red and swollen at the incision site, which made us realize that he was sick and in pain, not depressed. She immediately scheduled a vet appointment for him that afternoon. I haven't found out the results of that yet, but I said that since I work 60 hours a week, I have no spare time to be taking him to the vet to sort this out. I asked if the animal shelter could deal with it, and I would be back in a week to adopt him if he's on the mend and back to his usual self.

Of course, I realize that in adopting a pet I should be all charitable and handle whatever the dog needs, but I'm trying to solve some of my own problems here. It would defeat the purpose if I brought another problem into my life. I just lost thousands of dollars over the course of two days thanks to a number of unexpected problems, and having to pay unexpected vet bills would push me over the edge. I also had to take a week off from work just to be able to set up some personal appointments such as seeing a doctor, an insurance agent, and a financial adviser. I obviously don't have the time to be making trips to a vet. My other big worry is that if the dog is really sick, I'd bring him home and then have him die, and poor Midge would just have to go through another period of grieving.

I bought my horse Gabbrielle knowing she had a respiratory tract infection. I felt pressured to buy her that day, because someone else wanted to buy her and was coming by to see her the following day. I ended up investing so much money and time into nursing her back to health. I had to pull her out of a horse show in which her entry fee was pre-paid, because she was obviously too sick to perform at halter. Though I have no regrets in buying her, I do wish I hadn't put all that pressure on myself when I was already so busy.

If I keep taking care of sick animals, I'm going to get sick myself from all the stress. I'm hoping that the foster parents won't say, "You didn't adopt the dog right away, so we're doing it."

But if that happens, so be it. I'm trying to just trust that things will work out while I try to protect myself from added stresses. Oh yeah, and you know how I mentioned that I had a hard time hiking that mile up the hill with Lostine on Sunday? It turned out I was coming down with something. I was sick on Monday. Fortunately, it was a short-lived virus. I pumped myself with vitamins and O.J. and was fine by Tuesday.

Could It Be?

My eyes have been playing tricks on me lately. My old reading glasses were too weak, so I went in to the optometrist's office to get a new prescription. I had to use store-bought reading glasses for the week that the lab had my frames, and I had headaches and optical illusions for that entire week. Now my eyes are adjusting to the new lenses. I often see things that aren't there and react to them, only to look at them straight on and realize nothing is there.

For instance, I was making coffee when I saw that someone had laid a hand towel down on the floor to sop up some water. I kept side-stepping the towel while moving around the kitchen, and then decided to just pick it up off the floor, but when I looked straight at it, the towel disappeared. There never was a towel there.

So, when I was out shoveling manure and saw something out of the corner of my eye, I ignored it, figuring it was just another optical illusion. But whatever it was just kept catching my eye, so I turned to look at it straight on. What I saw took my breath away. A little bunny rabbit had hopped right up to me and was sitting just a couple of feet away from me on the other side of the chain-link fence.

Jackrabbits don't do that, and this bunny looked more like the domesticated kind. In fact, it looked just like the pet bunny that escaped from a neighbor's house years ago and ended up living under my haystack. I kept trying to catch it to return it to the person who owned it, but it was just too wild by then. That bunny mated with a jackrabbit and raised her babies in my manure pile. I couldn't believe that with all the freezing cold winters and cars and feral cats and coyotes we've got around here, that a domestic rabbit could survive that long in the wild.

Of course, as soon as I started speaking to it, it cautiously hopped away a little at a time. My tarot reading told me an old friend was going to stop by, and then just as quickly leave. I guess it was right. ;)

Oh yeah, that reminds me... The other day I was driving through downtown and discovered a sign in front of a new business that read, "TARROT READINGS". Being a horse person who knows how to spell, I immediately imagined a woman dressed in gypsy garb placing tarot cards around a carrot telling me my horses' futures.

Trail Riding With Sticks in My Legs

Anyone who follows Mikey's blog, Postcards from Arizona, knows what I'm talking about with these titles regarding sticks in my legs. Basically, I've got a problem with being over-scheduled and over-worked and over-stressed and every time I try to do something to fix it, I somehow end up with an even heavier schedule. The more I fight it, the worse it gets. That's a problem... or a stick in my leg.

Anyway, I woke up late Sunday morning, fed the horses late, and got a late start on my trail ride. A number of ridiculous things kept happening to make me later and later. I lost a piece to her Old Macs and had to search for it, then I discovered that the leak in the water tank hose had gotten worse, so I had to dump out a trash can filled with water before I drove off and it spilled all over the carpet of my tack room. It was already quite hot, so I ran in the house to get some electrolytes for my horse.

Lostine refused to get in the trailer, which is very unusual for her. It was after 10:30 AM by the time I got her loaded up. I'm used to getting to the trail head between 8:00 AM and 9:00 AM and being one of two horseback riders there. However, when I pulled into the parking lot, the entire horse trailer side was in use. I had to park on the car side, which probably ticked off a lot of hikers who could have parked four cars in the space my truck and horse trailer were occupying.

Unfortunately, this parking spot was a bad one, tipping the horse trailer to the right, which caused the center divider and saddle rack divider to swing closed on both Lostine and I as we were trying to unload and load her. I already had problems getting her loaded at home, and now suddenly I had this problem of having to stand with my back against the dividers while begging Lostine to self-unload and self-load. Somehow we managed, but I was hoping for a nice, quiet, relaxing trail ride and really didn't need this puzzle to solve.

Normally, I hike the first mile beside Lostine to get my exercise before we reach the bench where I mount. The last time I hiked it straight through without having to stop to rest. However, on this morning I had to stop to rest five times before we reached the bench. I didn't know if it was because I was just so wiped out from being in overdrive all week or if I was coming down with something. I mean, this was pathetic. I had senior citizens with walking sticks and obese people passing me up while I struggled to catch my breath. I think my heavy breathing was making Lostine nervous. She kept looking around trying to figure out what was causing me to be so physically stressed.

The trail was loaded with hikers, dogs on and off leash, and horses. I'd never seen so many horses on this trail in my life. When all was said and done, we passed 15 horses and riders, some of them several times. Each time Lostine sensed horses up ahead, she'd lock up and refuse to move forward. I suspect she was overly concerned about where her place might be in the pecking order of a new herd, regardless of how temporary the herd may be. When horses pass each other on the trail, that's a 10-second herd. I say forget about the pecking order in that case, but Lostine feels she must be the alpha mare in every situation. She scared one horse so badly by taking a step toward it as it passed us, that the horse bolted. Fortunately, the rider was a pro and was able to get the horse under control.

At one point we had a duel with a lone dog on the trail. We stopped walking to wait for the owner to claim the dog, but there didn't appear to be anyone with the dog. We'd take a few steps forward and the dog would take a few steps forward. Finally, the dog thought better than to try to approach us, so it trotted off into the brush and went way around us. It was a good dog, but I did worry where its owner might be. I didn't want to find a hiker up ahead dead from a heart attack or passed out from heat exhaustion.

Lostine was being such a pill by spooking or balking at everything. At one point she balked because there were more horses and hikers and loose dogs up ahead. All of the sudden I heard hissing and rattling in the bush beside us. I kept kicking her and smacking her with the riding crop to get her out of there, but she wouldn't budge. I know you are supposed to hold still when you are on top of a rattlesnake, but I was kind of hoping Lostine could outrun it. The rattling stopped, and getting her legs unlocked was like giving birth, but she did finally move forward when the other parties moved on to other trails.

Here's a picture of all the horse trailers in the parking lot...

The silver truck and white trailer facing the wrong direction with all the yellow tractors behind it is mine. I went through way too much work to get Lostine loaded in the trailer to just turn around and go back home because the parking lot was full.

I fielded several more questions from people regarding why I put boots on my horse's hooves. Apparently, Nevadans think that is the strangest thing. I'll bet most of them haven't heard of the Internet yet, because if they simply searched for horse tack, they'd see these types of boots all over the Internet. I've had more people laugh at me or sneer at me for using Old Macs. I think it is so stupid that horse people often think that if you don't do things their way you are doing it the wrong way. I just don't see any point in paying $120 every six weeks for metal shoes when I only ride on sand and don't ride that often at all. The Old Macs protect her hooves really well and she doesn't have any trouble walking in them. The splint boots or wraps protect her legs from scratches, so I put them on all four legs. Some of the bushes on the sides of this trail are quite sharp.

Despite all the people, animals, and challenges, I could have stayed in those mountains all day. Lostine and and I kept stopping in the shade to just hang out and enjoy the view. Many people passed us and questioned me on why I wasn't riding. (I'm sorry. I didn't know that having a horse means I have to be riding it and moving every minute.) Lostine likes to stand around and do nothing just as much as I crave the time to do nothing. When you are over-stimulated and on sensory overload as much as I am, you learn to stop and appreciate things like silence or the sounds of nature and a cool breeze in the shade. I just wish all these people didn't have to be there pestering me with questions. Why are you doing this? Why are you doing that? I probably should have just said, "Why are you so concerned about what I'm doing?"

Like I said, I could have stayed in those mountains all day, but someone was coming by my house to pick up the manure and I needed to get home to deal with him. That's a whole 'nother post in itself. Of course, wouldn't you know it? I got home to find a message that he couldn't come by after all. I think in the future I'm going to just say no to people who want to schedule something with me on my trail riding days.

On the way home some guy in one of those bicycles you pedal while lying back came shooting out off a side street right in front of my truck and turned into my lane while I was going 45 MPH. Even if I was willing to risk slamming on my brakes and injuring my horse in the trailer, I still couldn't have stopped in time to avoid hitting him. So, I swerved into the oncoming lane and fortunately, no other car was in it.

I passed him and saw that he had headphones on and was listening to music. A part of me wanted to blast my horn at him so badly that he'd have to clean out his pants when I was done with him, but I didn't want to scare my horse even worse. That bicyclist by law was supposed to stop at the stop sign, look both ways, and then proceed into the intersection if it is clear.

That's one of my main issues with all the Californians who keep moving here. They think Nevada is so spacious compared to San Francisco or L.A., and so they get here and take liberties on the road, believing they are the only ones on the road and therefore won't affect others if they don't stop at intersections or if they drive straddling the center line. These bicyclists are making a bad name for themselves. I don't give a damn if you are training for the Olympics -- you had better follow the rules of the road just like everyone else. I think it's high time that bicyclists be required to pay registration fees since they hog the road, and sport license plates so that we can report them when they break the law.

I think in the future I am going to have to set my alarm to get outdoors before all the yahoos wake up.

Lostine agrees.

Oh, and I think I called Bombay's bluff. He's been limping around and feeling sorry for himself, but when I returned home with Lostine in tow, Bombay galloped full-tilt across the paddock to greet us. If he keeps moving like that, he's going to find himself in the trailer next weekend.

Running Around With Many Sticks in My Legs

I usually get to rest on the weekends to some degree, even if it is only for a few minutes here and there at a time, but not this weekend. The family drove two cars up into the city to drop off the car the needed to be worked on at the shop for the day. We had a nice, fattening breakfast at IHOP with a very helpful, very pleasant server who received a large tip for his kindness.

We didn't get home until 11:30 AM. I grabbed Bombay, hosed down his gimpy leg and gave him a bath. I hadn't even been outside for more than a minute, and my nosy neighbor came outside with the kid she babysits. I probably blurted out an expletive. I don't even hear it anymore, as cursing is getting to be like Tourette's Syndrome to me. Every time I'm in a hurry, which is pretty much all the time, and someone gets in my way, out comes the bleep. Fortunately, they climbed into a car and I thought they were going somewhere. But no. They just sat in that car by my fence and watched me. I wasn't sure if they couldn't get the engine started or if they intentionally came out just to watch me and got in the car to minimize the distraction to my horses. After a while they got out of the car and went right back into their house. I seriously need to post a sign pointing directly at their yard that reads, "NOT HERE FOR YOUR ENTERTAINMENT."

Then I washed Gabbrielle, who is supposed to be gray but was looking more like brown from rolling in the dirt to keep the flies off. Lostine didn't need a bath, but she begged for one because she was so hot. By the time I got done giving three baths and trims, it was 1:30 PM and the horses were long overdue for lunch.

I got help leading the horses out to pasture, and had planned to do a photo shoot since the horses were clean, but when I looked out the window I could see that my nosy neighbor had brought the kid she babysits out to play with my horses through the fence of my pasture. I couldn't do a photo shoot with that distraction. I waited for them to leave. Since they stayed on the side of the pasture that is against the road, I couldn't very well go out there and complain about the trespassing. They do trespass every time they take the road in front of my house, because it is within my property line, but they can't get to and from their house and their mailbox without traveling it. They picked up their mail and dawdled all the way back to their house.

As soon as I started my photo shoot, my cell phone rang. My car was ready. This meant that if I hurried, I mean hustled as fast as I could, my son could drop me off at the shop on his way to a pole vault practice in Reno. I got my son's help bringing in the horses, but my husband was busy pumping up the tires on my son's truck. I asked him to stop for a moment to help, but he said he had to finish what he was doing. I was getting nervous because we were so short on time and I didn't have a few minutes to wait. We couldn't walk the horses past my husband and his compressor, because air compressors are very loud and make sudden noises, so I had to wait for my husband to stop what he was doing.

He finished in the nick of time, because the very minute after we moved the horses back to the paddock, a huge flatbed tow-truck came up the street and proceeded to dump my nosy neighbor's broken down car right up against our fence. There was a lot of roaring and banging and the horses were terrified. There's no way we could have moved them from the pasture to the paddock with that going on.

When your car has been in the shop for two months and the mechanic can't repair it, that's when most of us take it to the dump. Not my nosy neighbors. They have it towed to their place for parts. If it turns out that this second vehicle they've been driving is broken down too, it looks like they are going to be starting another car garden against the fence of my horse paddock. I'm sure they'll have people coming and going with tools, helping themselves to items under the hoods just like a junk yard.

My son drove me part way to the shop until we discovered he was low on gas, so we had to stop. I had no cash, so I showed him how to use my debit card at the pump. He dropped me off at the shop where I paid an exorbitant amount to get my car back, but only half-way repaired. It turns out that the one mechanic they have who knows how to fix this other problem only works on week days, so either I have to take time off from work to bring the car in again, my son has to drive it up and sit in the waiting room for several hours, or I have to drive it up on my staycation and sit in the waiting room for several hours. Lovely. It's not like I haven't been waiting months for this staycation, so I can get a chance to attack other things on my To Do List. It's always the unexpected problems that win out and suck up all my time while my To Do List just keeps growing longer.

I then drove to my son's track practice, which was preceded by a barbecue. I thought this was rather ironic, because I had just been saying in another post that I haven't had time to participate in a barbecue in my entire life, and here I was participating in one the very next evening. I felt bad, because since I was so busy, I couldn't bring anything. A trip to the store would have eaten up another hour or so of my day, so I just offered to help cook, but it turned out that one of the kids on the team is studying to be a chef, so he and the coach and the coaches' wife handled it all.

This was also ironic because one of the men who picked up my manure gave me a jar of hand-grown, hand-ground seasonings to use with meat as a gift. He asked me via email if we had tasted it yet. I felt bad because I had to explain that we've been so busy these past few weeks that we've literally just been eating salad out of a bag for dinner each night. We have no time nor energy to cook. Had I thought of it and knew about this barbecue sooner, I would have brought the seasoning for everyone to try, because they served tri-tip and Alaska salmon caught by one of the vaulters on his trip to Alaska this summer. Mmmmmmmm.

After the barbecue, the kids started vaulting and I broke out my pro camera with telephoto lens. They jumped at sunset, which usually makes for great lighting, but not so much in this case where I am covering a sports event. I could only get certain shots from certain angles without everyone looking like silhouettes. I normally like to get shots of them posing with the pole before take off, shots of them running up the runway with this long pole balanced in front of them, shots of them planting the pole and bending it, shots of them flying over the bar, and shots of them falling to the pit. This time I could mainly only get the over the bar shots with my back to the sun. After the sun set, I had to use my flash, and it was messing up the athletes ability to concentrate, so I had to wait until they were over the bar before pressing the shutter release. I got some great "flying squirrel" shots out of it. Today I need to post-process all the images and mail them off to the coach.

On the way home, it was dark and I got lost in some road construction. I ended up being detoured to head in the opposite direction of home. I had to travel for miles before I found a freeway off-ramp where I could turn around. Once I was heading home and out of Reno in the country, I realized I was almost out of gas. I had to hyper-mile it and coast the majority of the way until I hit the next city and found a gas station. After that my cell phone rang. I normally don't answer phones in cars, but this was late at night and there weren't many other vehicles around me. It was my son worrying about why I wasn't home yet. I had left the track practice before him, so he expected me to be home when he got home. It's nice to know someone cares.

I usually wake up around 5:00 AM Sunday morning to feed the horses so we can hit the trails before it gets too hot, but I was so exhausted from such a busy Saturday that I overslept. The late start kind of set a bad pace to the day, and the trail ride turned out to be full of new challenges I was just too tired to face. To be continued...

Staycation Postponed

So, I postponed my staycation one week for a variety of reasons. The main reason is because I had planned to use that week to make a bunch of appointments regarding the setting up of my new business. I wanted to meet with a financial adviser and an insurance agent, things I can't do while I'm on my day job. I also wanted to see a new doctor who can help me get my blood pressure under control, but my job has kept me so busy that I haven't been able to get a moment during business hours to make the outgoing calls to set up the appointments. I needed another week just to get all that squared away.

Also, one of my neighbors is still painting his garage and house, and the painter drives a jeep with a really loud engine, making dozens of trips behind my barn each day. I didn't want any of his noises spooking my horses while I am riding them.

Insanity has taken over my life again. We discovered a foul up with my daughter's student loan, and we had to scramble to correct it so that she could keep her job and stay in school.

I went out to get the mail and found an appointment card for a dental appointment. The appointment was for my son, it landed right in the middle of his first day of school and my first day of staycation. I nearly flipped my lid! Our insurance does not cover the majority of the cost of our dental cleanings, yet my dentist insists we come in every six months. That gets really expensive for a family of four. It makes me crazy. These appointments almost always land on the week I take a staycation to get some rest, and then I end up spending my time sitting in a dentist's office instead. I immediately picked up the phone and said, "We need to push this appointment out as far as it will go, because I am overwhelmed with being over-scheduled right now. I am also not willing to pull my son out of school for a teeth cleaning." That fixed it. I bought us three more months.

Everything at our house has been breaking. First, our brand new dishwasher broke for the third time. Then we had car trouble. Then our security light broke. This weekend I have to take my car into the shop for multiple repairs. The mechanic said he doubted they could get it all done in one trip, so I'll probably have to bring the car back in the following weekend too! Summer is almost over. I can't spend every weekend driving into the city to see the mechanic. I need to be riding my horses so that I don't go insane.

That was all the trouble leading up to Friday, and then Friday morning I woke up and found Bombay limping around with a bump on his nose. I started cursing, because I had high hopes to start riding him soon. I looked at his legs, and they weren't swollen, but he popped a splint on the inside of his left front leg. It obviously wasn't the result of me over-working him, because I haven't been working him at all, so it must be that he suffered some kind of blow during the night.

I was trying to deal with him when we had another emergency at work and my phone started ringing off the hook and instant messages started popping up on my computer left and right. I was so torn, because I needed to work on Bombay's leg, but this is like the umpteenth time I have had to take time off from work due to a horse being injured and my employer is losing patience with me. I kept looking out the window as I was talking on the phone, hoping to catch my neighbor to ask her to tend to Bombay's leg while I dealt with the emergency at the office. She wasn't around, though.

When I got a break from the office communications, I ran outside to find Gabbrielle flat on her side. Oh bleep. I ran over to her and saw she was covered in flies. I ran to the horse trailer, grabbed the fly spray, ran back to her, sprayed her all over while she laid there, and when I was done, she hopped up and shook herself off. She was fine. She was just soaking in the sun, but scared the bleep out of me. I rubbed some DMSO on Bombay's splint, then ran back into the house to field more communications.

Because I was multi-tasking at such a rapid pace, I was making mistakes and my coworkers were getting mad at me. They wasted more of my time questioning me on why I didn't find this problem sooner. I wanted to say something to the effect of, "Have you ever tried putting out a fire, performing CPR on a person, answering a phone, and relieving yourself all at the same time? That's what my life is like every day... figuratively, of course, but not too far from the truth."

It cracks me up, because most days my husband comes home from work and says, "Did you read about such-and-such in the news?" and I give him this look that says, "Are you crazy? Do you actually have time to read the news at your job during the day?"

In the meantime, I had set several balls in action on other projects and everything was coming to a head. I was beyond overwhelmed. Basically, I found an adorable older Wiener Dog I want to adopt, but he's in California. I inquired about him and found out that he just had surgery to remove a bladder stone and is recovering in a foster home. The foster owners were considering adopting him, but when I showed an interest, they said they were willing to give him up to me. I had to make special arrangements with the shelter to meet the little guy. I didn't want to rush his recovery, though. Anyway, I was on the phone with the animal control officer when my boss called on another line, and I had to ask him to call back. Ironically, both people I was speaking to had the same name, so they were confused over who I was asking to hang up. I was thinking, "Could this get any more awkward or ridiculous?"

I know I should have just not picked up the second line, but the animal control officer had me on hold, so I thought I had time to answer. Anyway, I started having things go haywire on me. My cell phone was cutting off calls and my Internet was cutting in and out, so I couldn't complete any instant message communications. All these people were trying to talk to me at the same time, and I just wanted to run out of the house screaming and tearing my hair out.

On top of that, I've got three people fighting over my horse manure and I've been trying to sort that out in a fair manner. I took out another ad for it, thinking it would be as simple as one person coming by in a couple of trips to pick it up, but now I find myself having to field inquiries about it and rescheduling pick ups every day. If I knew getting rid of my manure was going to turn into a full time job, I would have just eaten it. (Not really. I just wanted to see how close you were reading this long, frantic post.)

Then right when I was talking to my boss about a critical issue, someone walked right past my NO TRESPASSING signs and rang my doorbell, getting my dog into a barking fit while I was trying to explain this issue to my boss. I had to leave him to go answer the door, but I only got it open enough to to see it was an older woman I don't know before my dog tried to bust through the door to bite her. I blurted out an expletive and shut the door on the dog's head to avoid a lawsuit.

I pulled the dog out and shut the door in her face, my son carried the dog to a back room where he could lock her up and I asked him to find out what the woman wants, because I was in the middle of talking to my boss. It turned out the lady was a neighbor I didn't know and she wanted to borrow a pack of matches because she was having a barbecue and had nothing to start the fire. You know, I don't think I have ever had the time to have a barbecue in my entire life. I can't wait to be retired like her.

Throughout all this insanity, my son helped me out by picking up some lunch for us, so that I wouldn't have to stop everything to make something. Now I have to go finish the laundry I started this morning and never got to finish with all the interruptions. I checked on Bombay earlier and it seemed that the lump on the inside of his cannon bone receded, which is surprising. Maybe he just has a bad bruise. I think it's time I hire someone to live my life for me, so I can get a break. Dang! I just realized... it's Friday the 13th! Well, that explains everything.

New Jeans

My daughter and I went shopping a couple of weekends ago. Once the kids became teenagers, we quickly learned that they prefer either money or a shopping spree to pick out what they want for their birthdays. I like to shop with them to see what catches their eye. I had a few pair of jeans catch my eye in the process.

In one case, I found something called "Jeggings", which are leggings made out of a very thin jean material. At first I thought they were silly, but then it hit me that these were essentially riding breeches! Just a bunch of tight-fitting spandex. I got a pair of those and found that they were even more comfortable than my pajamas, so I slept in them.

I also got a pair of jeans that fit nicely and only after I wore them for the first time did I notice all the embroidery and glitter on them. I think the design on the leg is really cool.


This is the design on the front pocket...

And on the back pocket...

Forgive the blurriness. I took these picture while I was wearing the jeans, looking at the LCD in the bathroom mirror to make sure I had the embroidery in frame. I know it would have been easier to just take them off, lay them on the bed and take pictures, but I was too lazy to make the effort.

Exploring the Dog Shelter

I couldn't stand seeing how listless Midge has been since Monty died, so I went outside and asked Gabbrielle if we should get another dog. She perked her ears forward and nodded her massive, yet dainty horse head. Of course Gabbrielle would say yes. She adores dogs.

I told my husband I was willing to go see what they had at the animal shelter since they hadn't updated their website since mid-June. My husband, son and I all piled into the car and headed out. I didn't have high expectations, because the last time I visited the animal shelter I found a bunch of dogs I was interested in, but the volunteers wouldn't let me consider any of them for one reason or another. All I heard was, "That dog wouldn't work for you because..."

They kept pushing this one dog on me (and everyone else who came in) that was not in line with what I was hoping for. I left empty-handed. This time all the employees and volunteers we spoke with were very helpful and open-minded. They let us look and didn't force us to only consider a subset of dogs.

I was hoping to find a small, short-haired older dog who wasn't a heavy barker. My only rule on breeds beyond that was no Pit Bulls. Of course, 75% of the dogs in the shelter either were Pit Bulls or Pit Bull mixes. My husband was attracted to a Border Collie mix, but it's hair was too long for me, and each time it ran outside it barked at everything that moved. It was hard for me dealing with Monty while working from home, because he barked every time I let him outside, so I had to keep leaving my desk to supervise him outside, and then bring him back in right away.

There was a really pretty white medium-haired Shepard, a senior dog that had just had surgery to remove a fatty tumor. We both liked her a lot, but we were looking for a male dog. I don't know if it's true, but I've been told by animal shelter volunteers that female dogs don't get along well. It's better to have one female and several males. I'm sure there are exceptions. However, my other concern was that this white Shepard probably didn't have more than a couple of years left in her life and I didn't want Midge to lose another buddy right away. I wanted a dog closer to Midge's age.

The Chiweenie, as Lisa called it, that I saw on the website had already been adopted... three times. Apparently, he kept having accidents on the carpet, so people kept bringing him back. A lady with a doggie door in her house finally adopted him and the problem was solved. I guess little dogs have little bladders and must be let outside often.

The nicest, quietest, most well behaved dog in the bunch was this huge Bloodhound / Bull Mastiff mix that was 10 years old. He connected with me and wagged his tail when I spoke to him. We took him out on a leash to the play area, ran around with him, gave him commands like "sit", "shake" and "come", and he was very well trained. His history was that his owners left him with a dog sitter while they went on vacation, and they never came back. He had only been in the shelter a few days.

There was absolutely nothing negative about this dog other than that he was huge, and I really want a little dog. Our house isn't terribly spacious, and one of the problems I had with Monty was that he always laid across doorways and refused to move when people needed to walk through. However, as soon as we tried to step over him, he'd start to stand up and trip us. One time he tripped me while I was carrying a laundry basket, and I thought I cracked my kneecap when I fell. Little dogs are good about avoiding people's feet. I can walk when Midge is close by, and she understands that it is her responsibility to avoid getting stepped on.

On the other hand, a dog as big as this Bloodhound / Bull Mastiff would make a great guard dog to intimidate trespassers. They did tell us he's an indoor dog, though.

The only little short-haired dog they had was a Pug mix that was morbidly overweight. I could deal with helping the dog lose weight, but my husband wouldn't have anything to do with the dog because it growled at us each time we came near it. He didn't want a territorial dog who was going to be over-protective of its people and space.

So, we left empty-handed again, but at least this time we have a better idea of what will and won't work for us. Plus we know we can keep going back to look at new dogs without being pressured into getting a dog we don't want. However, next time I go, I'm taking an antihistamine ahead of time. I'm very allergic to cats, and though we didn't go into the cat section of the shelter, all that animal dander floating around in the air did a number on my sinuses. My head was throbbing and I felt nauseated by the time I got home.

I suspect it will be a long wait until an older short-haired small dog shows up at the shelter. The most common breed the you find in shelters in my area that fits that description is the Chihuahua. I keep seeing the same story over and over in which the Chihuahua attaches itself to one person in the family and bites everyone else, so the owners have to find it a new home. Though this seems to be a common problem, I'm sure it isn't the rule with all Chihuahuas, and for those that do have this problem, I'm sure there are training methods to overcome it.

Of course, I'll be keeping my eye out for Corgi mixes. Since purebred Corgis are so expensive, I doubt I'll ever see one of those in my local shelter. It's hard enough to find a Corgi breeder in my area. Then when you do get a purebred dog, it has all these health problems because of inbreeding. Yup. I think I'll wait for the right mutt.