One Giant Step Forward

It's official.  My mother's house is now the responsibility of new owners.  I closed out the last of her utility and home insurance accounts today.  Now I just need to finish paying off her debts, pay her taxes, and normalcy should reign in my life once again.  Of course, it won't be the normalcy I used to know, but perhaps a new kind of normalcy.  This came just in time, too, because my husband is sick of being worked round-the-clock by his new boss.  He's ready to start looking for a new job and a new home elsewhere.

Today he bought a bunch of pipe to replace the rotting wood panels that the horses have destroyed.  Little by little we are making improvements on the house we are in now, so that we can either rent it out or sell it.  I suspect we will have to rent it, because nothing is selling around here.

I was at home alone and wanted to put the horses out to pasture.  Usually, my husband leads Gabbrielle and I lead both Bombay and Lostine, but since there was only me, I had to take the horses one-by-one to the pasture.  I put Bombay in the pasture first, and as soon as I walked away, he freaked out and galloped all over the place tearing up the grass.

I then haltered Lostine and led her out of the paddock.  Gabbrielle had a full-on heart attack and began galloping back and forth along the fence line squealing while Bombay continued his fit in the pasture.  I hand-grazed Lostine on the lawn between the two of them and refused to lead her in either direction until the other two horses settled down.  Lostine couldn't care less about being separated from the other two.  She was just happy to be eating.

Bombay settled down, so I put Lostine in the pasture with him.  My husband came home with a bunch of pipes sticking out of the back of his truck with a red flag hanging off them right when I was getting ready to lead Gabbrielle to pasture.  She had a snort-fest, neck arched, tail up over her back when she saw that red flag.  I insisted she walk past it, and she did.

Just when I was a few yards away from leading the last horse to its destination, Gabbrielle sensed something behind her and spun around me.  I looked over to see what spooked her, and found that my husband came out the front door onto the lawn to watch.  Getting the horses back from the pasture to the paddock was much easier with him home.

I didn't work on separation anxiety with the horses at all this year, beyond taking Lostine away for our trail rides and sending Gabbrielle off for training for two months.  I did work on it a lot last year, but we are now back to square one.  Horses always need so much work to get them to a manageable temperament.

We are even back to them panicking in their stalls when my annoying neighbors drive behind the barn at night.  I heard a huge boom from them kicking the stall walls a little while ago and looked outside to see that my annoying neighbor had driven his rickety truck and noisy trailer home from work.  He was parked in his front lot with his headlights on.  A couple of minutes later I heard two more big booms and went outside to find that the annoying neighbor had driven out of his driveway, behind my barn, turned around in my driveway, drove behind my barn a third time, only to end up parking in his lot again.

Now you know why I call them my "annoying" neighbors.  They can't seem to make up their minds on whether they are coming or going, and they spend the majority of their time behind my barn and in my driveway.  So, I went outside in my socks and stood on my driveway to deter the man from doing it again.  I also checked to make sure I locked my gate since he could be up to no good.

The annoying kid that my annoying neighbors babysit was standing on a boulder watching everything that was going on over at my friend's place.  I've caught him doing that a lot lately, and my annoying neighbors don't think to tell the kid that it is rude to spy on neighbors.  They let him stand out there all day calling out to my friend for her attention.  She's told me that kid drives her crazy.  He used to run over to her property and wreak havoc, so at least the annoying neighbors are now keeping him on their own property, despite letting him continue to pester my friend from their property line.  Oh well, I've learned that any improvement at all with these people is a huge step forward.

A Good Laugh

I got a good laugh this morning -- something I've come to appreciate when it does happen, especially since not many humorous things have been happening to me lately.  My farrier came out to work on hooves, and much to our good fortune, both of my nosy neighbors drove off instead of standing around at the fence watching and listening in on our conversation.  So, their absence freed up our conversation.

I was telling my farrier the story behind the studio photo shoot and three of my neighbors interfering during the process.  He said that he has a neighbor who takes walks all day long, but is really just out looking for someone to talk to.  My farrier is a lot like me, in that he likes peace, quiet, privacy, and his alone time, so when he sees this neighbor coming, he hides in his trees and waits for her to pass before he gets his mail.

He told me to Google Map his house and I will be able to see him hiding in his tree line while this neighbor is walking up the road by the mailboxes.  We were both cracking up about that.  What are the chances that one of those "street view" cars with a satellite on top would drive by right when you don't want to be seen?  He probably looks like some kind of pervert getting ready to jump the lady.

I told him about all the great lengths I have to go through to avoid my annoying neighbors, and he said, "It almost makes you wonder why you even have a couple of acres, because you can't ever enjoy them."

One other funny story that is testament to what amazing creatures horses can be.  I was leaning on the gate to the paddock and the horses were standing around just looking at me.  I said, "I've got a headache.  Will somebody rub my head?"

Gabbrielle immediately stepped forward and began rubbing her muzzle back and forth on my forehead.  She did it for a good 30-seconds or so.  Unfortunately, I had just shaved her whiskers, so it felt like sandpaper and she rubbed some of the skin red.  But it makes you wonder if that was a coincidence or if she somehow understood what I was communicating.  I have never had a horse more in tune with me than Gabbrielle.  She forces me to censor my thoughts.

Close One

I believe I've told you about my wild domestic bunny that appeared this year and spends most of its day sitting under my daughter's car.  It's creme colored and sometimes hangs out with a gray jackrabbit.  This weekend I tossed it a carrot to see if it would eat it, but it just looked at it.  It's comfortable enough with humans that it won't hop away if we go outside and do our own thing.  If I walk up to it talking to it, the bunny will let me get about 5-feet away from it before it will hop away.

I've been getting up around 5:30 AM and letting the dogs outside to do their business.  Yesterday morning Scrappy was barking up a storm, so I had to open the backdoor to let him in.  I was standing in the doorway in a teddy only to find my neighbor from the guest house standing on the other side of the fence looking at me.  I slammed the door in his face since he was obviously being a Peeping Tom again.  He's been so good this year, not trying to look into my bathroom window when I get in and out of the shower like last year.  I was disappointed that he took advantage of watching me through my lace curtains in the wee hours of the morning when most people should either be asleep or getting ready for their day.

So, this morning Scrappy started barking again and I figured Mr. Peeper was out there.  I decided to let Scrappy bark for a while, hoping he would wake the man's wife and she would catch him in the act.  However, Scrappy's barking was getting up to a frantic pitch, so I opened the door just in time to see a coyote galloping away from our property and up the road.  It was huge and could have easily jumped our 4-foot fence to eat my little dogs.

Then I thought about the bunny.  This was about the time of morning when the bunny hops into my yard for breakfast.  I ran to the front of the house to look out the kitchen window, and my heart dropped when I didn't see it under my daughter's car.  However, then I saw movement out of the corner of my eye, and the bunny came hopping up my driveway.  Yay!  She survived. 

Why can't the coyotes just eat skunk?  We are still having to go outside with a flashlight at night before we let the dogs out, because despite all the skunky roadkill on our highway, there are still plenty of skunk trying to get into our dog yard.  And believe it or not, after multiple special baths with all the formulas you guys recommended, Scrappy still smells like a skunk.  The last time he got sprayed was several months ago.  I may have to take him to a groomer for perfuming once I know all the skunks are gone for the year. 

It appears that Gabbrielle is the culprit behind destroying our wooden fence.  It seems Bombay went through the same phase at her age.  7-years-olds have a lot of pent up energy and just always have to be doing something.  My goal (smirk) is to work with her every day and wear her out so that she'll stay out of trouble. 

I worked with her yesterday only to lose her attention to my nosy neighbor, whose sunbonnet was peeking up over the roof of her car.  She sneaked out her back door around the side of her house and was using her car for cover while she watched us.  Gabbrielle was quick to point her out.  I stopped and stared at the woman along with Gabbrielle.  As soon as she realized that our attention was on her, she scrambled around pretending to get ready to go somewhere in her car.  She surprised me by actually getting in and starting the engine, so Gabbrielle and I went back to our work.

However, when the woman backed up, she stopped so that she was facing us and watching us through her windshield.  Gabbrielle and I stopped and stared right back at her.  I said out loud, "We will get back to work as soon as this annoying woman leaves, Gabbrielle."

The lady had her window rolled down and must have heard, so she drove off down the road.  We returned to our work, and 10 minutes later the lady came back.  She went around the side of her house to the backdoor again.  This was odd, because she parks just a few feet away from her front door.  Next thing I knew, she was returning to her car with her purse and the little kid she babysits.  Apparently, when Gabbrielle and I caught her spying on us, she got so flustered that she drove off without her purse and the kid, and then had to come back to the house to get them!  Sigh.  She's just plain nutty.

Horsies on My Back

I walked outside Sunday morning and found this...

This is getting old.  Every night one or two wooden fence panels are broken.  At first I couldn't believe the horses could be doing all this destruction.  They usually break a fence panel once every few months or so, but not every single night.  This is getting to be ridiculous.

So, I considered that perhaps one of my trespassing neighbors was breaking fence panels under the cover of night just to piss me off.  I admit I've been leaving the gate unlocked.  Saturday night I heard what I thought were three gunshots, but it could have been someone hitting the fence panel with a hammer really hard.  So, I have started locking the horses up in their stalls to see if there are any broken fence panels in the morning. 

So far, nothing new has been broken.  Either the vandal knows the horses can't be blamed for the destruction if they are locked away, or my horses have been on a rampage of epic proportions.  My husband is getting angry and does not want to spend any more money on the horses:  That means no more fencing materials, no more training, no new stock trailer to treat Bombay's phobias, etc.  I think he's one hair short from asking me to find new homes for them.

I also slathered Halt Cribbing and motor oil all over the remaining fence panels...

...and the back of the barn where someone has been having a chew-fest.

All the locations where there are metal poles are the places where my husband has replaced broken wood panels over the past few days.  Don't you think that much breakage is a bit excessive?

Our hay delivery was looking like the Leaning Tower of Pisa.  The hay farmer tried to fix it with his harrow, but the claws just kept breaking strings on the lower bales and making the stack even less stable.  So, my husband got up there and knocked down the top layers, and I moved my truck so that the stack wouldn't fall on it.

You can really see the instability from the back of the stack...

I was trying to re-stack what my husband knocked down, and the hay hook kept coming off the strings while I was pulling backward with all my might.  I fell backward onto my tush and nearly did a somersault on three different falls, and simply fell down tripping over bales two other times.  Too bad my nosy neighbors were at church, because the show was as entertaining as The Three Stooges.  Next time I work around hay, I'm going to wear a helmet and padding.

I let the horses out to eat what hay landed on the ground, but re-training them not to eat directly off the haystack was difficult. I enforced the "three strikes -- you're out" rule. The first time they snatched some hay off the stack, I said NO to remind them of the rule. The second time I threw a rock in their general direction (without hitting them) to let them know not to test me, and the third time I called out the culprit's name, waved my arms around like someone on a tarmac directing an aircraft carrier back into the paddock, and I locked the offender away from the hay and the other grazers. You should have heard the pitiful cries from those who lost their grazing privileges.  Maybe next time they will stick to the generous spillage carpeting the ground.

Sunday Stills: First Signs of Fall

A clump of frozen crab apples high atop a tree...

The next thunderstorm moving in...

A rainbow coming up out of the canyon where we just had a big wildfire burning...

A few golden leaves on the Locust trees...

My arch enemy...

...sagebrush in bloom.  This is what makes me ill all September and October.

We're On a Roll

September may turn out to be the most expensive month yet for us.  I actually went into September saying that we should be alright financially since there is nothing we have to spend money on beyond the usual bills -- no car registrations, no surprise bills, and I didn't want anything for my birthday.  Boy, was I wrong.  When it rains, it pours.

First, our window blinds have been broken for a while and I've been waiting for a big sale on them before ordering new ones.  Of course, the big sale came in September.  Then the horses started breaking one to two fence panels a day.  The wood is rotten, so they are just snapping the panels in half, and every day my husband has to come home from work and replace the broken wood panels with metal poles.  I tried to do the job myself, but found that I was too weak to hammer a nail in.

Then our new microwave that we bought when we remodeled out kitchen a couple of years ago died, and I'm afraid to contact the insurance company, because then the mortgage company will get wind that my mother passed away, and we won't qualify for a loan in our names, and we can lose our home if we can't pay off my mother's loan with cash.  So, we're just living without that microwave for a while.  We have a smaller, cheaper Wal-Mart model that has lasted us years sitting on our counter top.

Then our PlayStation3 broke.  It stopped reading discs.  Sigh.  I was so into trying to win Borderlands.

Then we ran out of hay.  I frantically started calling around to every hay farmer in the valley whose phone number I had.  I left messages with most of them.  I talked with one really nice guy who was all out, but said if I called in the spring, he would put me on a list to get some of his first cutting in June or July.  He only charges $10 a bale and claims to never raise his price.  His bales are also heavier and larger than most of the bales that people sell around here.  They are certified weed-free, which means they are good quality, so I'll definitely have to work my way onto his list.

I got a hold of one farmer who said I could come over in 20 minutes.  I agreed.  Then my usual farmer called and said he'd bring me a delivery in 20 minutes.  Oops.  That's my life story.  Everything always has to happen in the same minute.  I told him we were on our way out, but would be home at 1:00 PM.  He agreed to come then.  He warned me that he had to raise his prices a lot because "everyone else in the valley raised theirs."

We drove the truck over to pick up the hay from the other guy and no one was around.  There was this very narrow dirt road that drove past a lot of barns and houses, and we had no idea where we are supposed to stop.  I asked another driver I was passing where I was supposed to go to pick up hay.  It turned out we passed it.  He didn't know which hay pile we should take from, so he gave me his father-in-law's phone number.  We drove back to the hay and called him.  He said he'd be right out.

A pick up truck came racing toward us, and there was a young man and woman in it.  They said, "May we help you?"

I realized the man was not the person I spoke to on the phone, so I explained that I had just called Fred and he was on his way out to show us which hay we could pick up.  The couple put down their defenses and apologized for the confrontation.  They said they'd been having problems with people trespassing on their property and doing odd things like making out in their cars as if their ranch were Lover's Lane.  They certainly had my sympathy with that.

Fred arrived on an ATV and gave us a choice of two piles, told us they were $12.50 a bale, and told us to come to his house when we're done.  There were so many houses around that I had to ask which was his.  He gave a vague description of how to get there, and drove off.  It was clear that he did not want to help us load our truck.  My husband forgot his gloves and long sleeves.

One pile was green, but way too wet.  I could smell they were starting to mold.  The other stack was brown on the outside, but drier, so I chose it.  The bales turned out to be super heavy and large.  The two of us struggled to get them loaded in the back of my truck.  Of course, we drove to the wrong house to pay.  We were greeted by a pack of barking, biting dogs and couldn't get out of our truck, so a lady stuck her head out the window and told us which house to go to.  She said to honk really loud and Fred will come out of the house.  I guess that's the only way you can pay without getting attacked by their pack of dogs.  We could only load up 9 bales, because we had gone over the weight limit for the truck.

Once home, we unloaded the nine bales, and then my usual hay farmer showed up driving a harrow to deliver a block of hay, which is 84 bales.  He asked me if I wanted him to save me another block over winter.  I said, "That depends on how high your prices are."

He said, "No, that depends on how much I'm willing to set aside for you."

It was then that I knew the guy was playing games with me and thought he had the upper hand.  He said, "I'm the only farmer in the valley with certified weed-free hay."

I said, "No, you're not.  I just spoke to two other farmers who have certified weed-free hay on the phone today."

"What are they charging?" he asked. 

"$10 and $12.50 a bale," I said.

"Go look at it," he said.  "I guarantee you it won't be as good a quality as mine."

I said, "I just bought some and not only is it good quality, but it is bigger and the bales weigh about 40 pounds more than yours."

He said he raised his price from $12.50 a bale to $13.50 a bale plus tax ($80) plus $50 delivery.  Right then my husband stepped in and told him we can't afford his hay anymore, because he has had a pay cut and I'm still out of work.  We didn't even go into the fact that my mother died and we are paying off her debts too.  Ultimately, if we can't afford the hay, then we should find new homes for our horses, but our goal at this point is to put pressure on the hay farmers to control their greed.

Then I found out that this hay farmer is one of those who betrayed the locals by shipping his hay off to Japan for inflated prices.  I was really angry about that.  We've been loyal customers of his for 12 years, and now he's giving our hay to the Japanese and letting our horses starve.

My husband was trying to get him to come down on his price but he wouldn't.  Then he wanted to buy a second block and pay for it now if we could get a discount.  The hay farmer wouldn't give us a discount, but he agreed to hold a block for us.  He said he couldn't promise to hold it at the current price he's charging, which is already too high for us.  This is the second time he's pulled a fast one on us.  Another time I found out that he was charging me $13 a bale and giving my neighbor the price of $10.50 a bale for the same stuff, just because they've been friends for 40 years.  And he thought we wouldn't get together and talk?

Of course, as soon as he delivered the block of hay, the sky opened up and started pouring rain.  My husband doesn't want to climb up a slippery ladder, so we had to wait for the rainstorm to end before we can cover the hay, but obviously we don't want to do that because then we will just be trapping the moisture in and causing mold.  I'm planning on going back to the guy we bought the big bales from next weekend to get another load from him.  I just don't trust this other guy to hold a block for us.  If he does, I'll make good on my word and buy it, but these are desperate times, so I just have to stock up with whatever I can find.

This rain wasn't even predicted.  Had it been, I would have never ordered hay today.  I can't believe my lousy luck.  In just 10 minutes of rain, our yard is already flooding.  The whole time we were out there standing in the rain arguing with the hay farmer, our nosy neighbors were standing at the fence watching, of course.  I'm sure they need some hay too.  It's about that time of year when the horses they board get moved to their property, but they can't move them if they don't have something to eat.

Studio Stars

The studio photo shoot with the shelter dogs went well with the exception of three of my neighbors letting their curiosity get the best of them and me.  It never ceases to astound me how nosy everyone in my neighborhood can be.  I mean, when I see a strange car pull up at a neighbors' house, I don't go running over to their house to see who it is and why they are there.  Do you?

So, the good, sweet, kind lady from the animal rescue organization showed up and we took the first dog into my back yard to sniff around and relieve itself before going into the studio.  She was talking to me and paused, I looked over to see what was distracting her and found my neighbor to the north standing at the fence waiting for my attention.  I was like, "No way.  I'm trying a run a  business here and I am not going to let this neighbor complain to me in front of a client about a new dog showing up in my yard, nor am I going to explain to her what I'm doing, because it is none of her business," so I turned my back to the neighbor and kept talking to my client.

My neighbor got the hint and left, as I did the same thing to her the previous day when she tried to stop me while I was rushing around doing chores to get ready for the photo shoot.  She was trying to ask me questions, but I kept moving and tossing out short responses to clearly communicate that I was busy.  If I let this woman stop me, she would get her claws into me and that would be the end of both my time and my good mood.

We went inside the studio and I took photos of the dog in different lighting situations, with different backgrounds, different props and different "costumes".  Then my client left to exchange dogs.  We repeated the same process with the second dog.  Since each studio shoot took a little over an hour, she decided to only do the two dogs.

As I was walking her down the walkway back to her car, I spotted my nosiest neighbor walking her dog behind my trees on my driveway.  I stopped and asked her to wait until my neighbor passed by since the shelter dog was a Pit Bull and we weren't sure how she would behave if she spotted another dog.  Unfortunately, my annoying, nosy neighbor didn't keep walking back to her house.  Instead, she walked her dog back and forth between both ends of my driveway so that she could spy on us and eavesdrop on our conversation.

I was fuming and wanted to go out there and tell her to move along, but didn't want to lose it with her in front of my client.  Another neighbor came out of her house to investigate, and she started a conversation with the dog walker at the end of my driveway.  Argh!  So, we just walked the Pit Bull to the car at an angle where the car would block its view of the other dog.  We said goodbye, I went back into my studio and found that she forgot something.  I grabbed it and chased her car down the road calling her name.

Fortunately, the Pit Bull spotted me chasing the car and barked to alert her to my presence.  She told me I could keep the doggie accessories as a gift for my studio.  How sweet.  I thanked her and turned around to walk back to my house, and almost ran right smack into my nosy neighbor who was walking her dog right up to this lady's car to listen in on our conversation!  I glared at her, and she put her head down, turned around, and walked back the other way like a child who got caught doing something bad.

Then the other neighbor ran onto my driveway to stop me from going back into the studio.  It turned out that she wanted to know why I pulled my horse out of training.  I explained that it was too expensive and I still haven't seen any money from settling my mother's estate.  The whole time we were talking, the nosy neighbor was walking her dog back and forth next to us listening in.

It turns out that my neighbor has a trainer who comes to your home and only charges $25 per session.  I can afford that.  So, I went over to her house to watch the trainer ride my neighbor's horse.  She was using spurs, a riding crop, and had the horse's head cranked into its chest with draw reins, which I didn't like.  She also had two tiny kids running around while she rode, and I worried that if her kids got hurt on my property, she might sue, so I would have to have her sign a liability release.

However, once we got talking I could see that she knew her stuff, and she does train for whatever discipline the horse owner wants.  Since I like to trail ride, she'd do a lot of trail obstacles and de-spooking exercises.  So, I might give her a whirl.  I'll just have to specify no spurs and I don't want to see my horse's head pulled beyond the vertical.  Gabbrielle's last trainer said she carried a riding crop, but never had to use it, because Gabbrielle always did her best.

This trainer at my neighbor's house also told me that she could hook me up with competent riders who trail ride locally who would be willing to help me with my more nervous horses.  You know how long I've been looking for someone to ride with?  I actually had given up and convinced myself I was better off riding alone.

The lady from the dog rescue said that they are having a wine tasting event and plan to display my photographs on a grand piano at the winery.  She asked me to come to the event and bring business cards and other examples of my work.  I also asked her if she would be interested in a part-time job assisting me if my photography business takes off.  She's very competent with dogs, has a low key energy level, which is much needed to keep the dogs calm and relaxed, and she knows just what to do to get the dogs' to stay and where to put their attention while I snap away at the shutter release.  It would have taken twice as long to do these photo shoots without her.  She said she'd be happy to assist me.  Yay!  So, in one day I made several connections that will help both my photography career and my horse training efforts.

Oh yeah, and then guess who drove up to get her mail in the same second that I was getting mine?  The neighbor to the north who keeps coming to the fence to pester me every time I walk into my back yard.  I was tired of her always being in my space and I knew she wouldn't leave me alone until she got whatever it is off her chest, so I approached her car window and said, "Is there something you've been wanting to tell me?"

She looked embarrassed and said, "Oh no.  I just wanted to say hi."

Ummmm, I don't believe that for one second.  She's always got an agenda.

Coming Together

I was about ready to give up on my photography business, because it's been a year and a half since I started it, and one thing after another keeps getting in the way of me being able to focus on it.  I threw a lot of money at it in the beginning, when I still had a paying job, but that job had me working 60 to 80 hours a week and gave me no time to do photography assignments.

After I was laid off, I invested a lot of time and money into advertising, but it didn't pan out.  I did not get any jobs as a photographer.  In the meantime I wrote a couple of ebooks.  Then my mother died and I got swept away in the vast abyss of estate settlement.  It suddenly hit me that I only have three months left in the year to get a paying photography job so that I can prove to the IRS that I have a legitimate business.  I was going to do one more advertising campaign, and if that didn't work, I was going to close down my business.

I had it in the back of my mind that I wish the animal shelter would allow me to take some dogs to my studio for photo shoots, instead of just having me take pictures of them running around the shelter compound.  I could do so much more in a studio environment, because I can control the background and props.

Then, out of the blue, a lady I had chatted with on Facebook contacted me about photographing some of the dogs in my studio!  It was like she read my mind.  She did all the arguing and was able to convince others that this would be a wise move in helping these animals find homes, since animals in impressive photographs tend to attract more attention than those just sitting in kennel cages.

First I went out to the shelter to do my usual routine of photographing the dogs there.  That gave me a chance to get to know the lady who would be assisting me in picking out and posing the dogs.  She and I had a great time.  I found out that like me, she's been out of the loop for a while and wants her life back -- only in her case it was because of a divorce.  In my case it was because of a death in the family.  Already we had so much in common, struggling to resume our lives after big setbacks.

The way she interacted with the dogs brought tears to my eyes, and I found myself photographing her just as much as the dogs.  Of course, the photos where she was included turned out to be the best.
 

Today I have to clean up the backyard patio, photography studio, and bathroom to get ready for the studio photo shoot.  The fun part will be looking for creative backdrops and props.  Unfortunately, before I can do any of that, I get to fix another fence panel that the horses broke last night.  I swear, those horses have the worst timing.

Beyond These Walls

My neighbor to my immediate north is still polluting the air with her construction noises.  The front loader is still pushing boulders around and men are cutting things all day long with power saws.  The neighbor to my south has been revving dragster engines again too, so I just let my dogs out to bark all day long and wait for someone to dare complain. 

My nosy neighbors to my east arrived home from church on Sunday with a young couple driving a little pickup truck behind them.  Apparently, this young couple has moved in with the older couple, and they do the exact same annoying things that my nosy neighbors do.  Each time I walk outside to shovel manure and fill water troughs, the young couple comes out of the house and starts pretending to load and unload stuff from their truck, the whole while looking into my yard and watching me.  Maybe there is an evil spirit in that house that possesses everyone who enters and uses them to torture me.  I mean, this nosiness thing seems to be contagious over there.  Either that or I'm the most fascinating, most mesmerizing woman on earth.

The old woman has been driving me crazy by always walking to the mailboxes at the exact same time as me.  I'm not exaggerating.  Literally, every time I walk out of my house to get my mail, I jump out of my skin to find that woman hot-footing it down my road straight toward me.  I'm so sick of her constant presence that I immediately turn around and go back inside my house.  I don't want to give her the pleasure of seeing what I got in my mailbox.  When I go back inside, she suddenly slows way down and barely puts one foot in front of the other, as if stalling and waiting for me to come back out.  I watch her through the window, waiting for her to leave, so I can get my mail, and she actually pauses behind the trunks of each of my trees as if waiting to ambush me. 

Her routine reminds me of an old Charlie Brown movie in which Charlie is tip-toeing between trees while stalking Lucy or some other female character.  I remember the scene, because my brother blurted out, "He's going to rape her!"

My mother's reaction was interesting enough that I had to ask what "rape" was -- something I thoroughly regret learning about while watching a Charlie Brown movie.  So much for sex education.  I honestly don't know how this weird neighbor can choose the exact same minute as me to pick up her mail.  She must have a spy camera in my house or something.  This whole stalking thing is beyond bizarre.

The shades in both my kids' bedrooms have been fussy -- difficult to open and close, so I took advantage of a 70% off blinds sale.  Tonight I walked into my daughter's bedroom, which faces east and faces the nosy neighbors' house, to find my husband up on a step, interior lights blazing, hanging the new blinds in his underwear.

Oh, how I love that man.

Lostine's No Good Lousy Son of a Gun Day

I took Lostine into the mountains for a trail ride Sunday morning. Even though she loves these trail rides, she always has to run from the halter. I tried to block her and she came to a stop in front of me, but then shoved me aside with her powerful head and neck, and then ran past. I whacked her on the rump for that and she suddenly decided to cooperate.  Getting spanked was not a good start for her day.

All the way to the mountains, we were passing bicyclists in a race. I worried that they might be using the trail head parking lot as the check-in point and starting line, as they have in the past. These bicycle races are becoming more frequent, and I don't understand why they chose our valley for racing, because we have no bicycle lanes. All the bicyclists ride side-by-side in a 55 MPH zone and make it dangerous for cars to pass. Driving a truck hauling a horse in a trailer is a very sensitive process and it is not safe or good for my horse for me to constantly be braking for bicyclists.

I decided that if I got to the trail head and had no place to park, I would complain to the event organizers. After all, the trails are for horseback riders and hikers, not bicyclists, so they should leave the trail head parking lot for the horseback riders and hikers. Fortunately, the parking lot was clear. The organizers were starting the race further down the road.  Perhaps someone complained at past events.

During our ride, several people stopped me to ask how old Lostine is. When I told them she is 23, they told me that I'm lucky I can ride her at that age. Most horses that age are put out to pasture, they said. Nobody ever believes me when I tell them she is 23, because she looks so good. I also had several people ask me if something was wrong with her since she was wearing rubber hoof boots. I guess they think those boots are only for soaking hooves in medicine or something.

Lostine seemed to be on high alert most of the ride. I had hoped to work with her at the river crossing, but she refused to head up that trail. I fought with her until she backed into a trail sign and nearly knocked it over with her big butt. At that point I just wanted her to relax and have a good time. It wasn't worth it to fight over which way we want to go at a fork in the road. Bravery and self-confidence just don't seem to be traits I find in many horses. Stubbornness, on the other hand, is a common trait found in mine.

On the way down a stick-filled narrow trail, I was keeping an eye out for snakes, and that caused Lostine to also start nervously looking around for snakes too. We heard a noise in the bushes beside us, and Lostine reared up and swung her front end 90-degrees to the right away from the sound. At least her self-preservation skills are intact.

There were hikers and loose dogs everywhere. Unfortunately, some of the owners didn't have control over their loose dogs and one of them blocked us from getting down the trail. The dog stood in front of us barking an attack bark. The owner grabbed its collar and let us pass. It looked to be a Pit Bull mix.  After nearly getting gnawed to death by a couple of Pit Bulls at the animal shelter last month, I didn't want this dog chewing on my horse's legs.

I tried trotting Lostine for a ways to put some ground between us and the angry dog, but she came up lame during the trot. I thought that was odd, because I had just been trotting her for a while and she didn't have any issues before. Now that I really needed her to go fast, she couldn't.

I was walking her and leaning from side to side to see if one of her rubber boots was coming off when I heard the dog owners yelling for "Harley". I turned around and sure enough, here came that angry dog charging down the trail at us, intent on attacking my horse. I spun Lostine to face the dog and it kept circling us, trying to get to her hind legs to bite them. Lostine and I just kept spinning to prevent that. I was swinging my riding crop at the dog, ordering it to leave, but it just kept circling us, so Lostine and I charged at it and chased it back to its owners. She was limping after that, so I decided to turn toward the parking lot at the next turn off.

We got to be about 100-yards away from that turn off, and Lostine came to a sudden stop. Her attention was up in the trees high above us. There was a breeze, and she was flaring her nostrils as if she smelled something menacing up ahead. I tried to push her forward, but she refused. Even while both kicking and tapping her with my riding crop, she kept backing up, fixing her eyes on something off in the distance.

I sighed and said, "Okay. I'm going to trust that you are not just being stubborn this time. Maybe there is a mountain lion or bear up there, so let's go back the way we came."

I turned her, and she reacted by bolting. She did not want whatever she smelled and saw behind her where she couldn't watch it. However, the pain in her hoof won out over her fear and she slowed to a walk. The people with the attack dog still hadn't moved off the trail, so we had to stop and wait for the sounds of their voices and dog barking to dissipate.

When we got home, I found that the neoprene part of the boot that wraps around the pastern was degrading. A hole was forming, which was rubbing her fur and skin, making her sore. Bombay has managed to all but destroy those Old Macs in his trailer freak-outs, and now Lostine is paying for it. I guess whenever some money falls into my lap, I'll have to look into getting new hoof boots.

Here's a video of when we were hiding from the attack dog.

This and That

Mikey commented that I hadn't posted in a while and she was concerned because the Reno Air Races accident was so close to me. Since I was stuck in a roadblock in front of the iHop shooting right after the gunman finished himself and his spree, it's not inconceivable that I might have been at the air races too. I didn't mean to worry anybody. I was not at the air races, but I have been deeply affected by it and other tragedies we've been experiencing in Northern Nevada lately. We get all the uncensored local news, and it's almost impossible to not let it affect you.

I seem to be in one of those Final Destination movies again, so I've been laying low. After nearly being broadsided in Siren Intersection, I was walking out to pick up my mail at the roadside mailboxes when a neighbor came racing into the mailbox turnout in her car and almost hit me. I couldn't understand how she couldn't have seen me, but my husband thinks she was drunk, because he sees her husband standing around on his driveway drinking all the time. So, I'm tired of having my heart beating in my throat. I need a break from all the shock and adrenaline. Having horses spook and trample me is a minor setback after dealing with all these inattentive humans driving killer hunks of metal right at me.

Thursday was my birthday. My husband brought home this gorgeous bouquet for me. Yellow roses and sunflowers have always held a special place in my heart, and I love the colors yellow and purple together.

My kids sent me cards that fit my sense of humor and enough pens to keep me writing for a while. The timing was perfect, because the day before I had to throw 3 pens in the trash that ran out of ink. I specifically asked that nobody buy me any gifts since our house is already so cluttered after I brought home everything sentimental I could grab from my mother's house this year. I've had my fill of stuff, so flowers and pens and funny cards were perfect for the occasion.

My son also introduced me to Skype, which allowed me to see his handsome face while he spoke to me through my computer, instead of just hearing his voice on the phone. And, BONUS! Skype is free. It made me so happy to see him. He showed me around his dorm room, and I brought the dogs over to my computer camera lens so he could see them and whistle to them. Midge always gets so happy after she hears his voice. She was in a serious funk after my son left home.

At the market yesterday I found a display of a new-to-me brand of coffee by a company called Blind Dog Coffee Roasting. What caught my attention was a picture of a cowboy riding his horse with a dog at his side under a full moon, and the coffee was called Nevada Black. I turned it over, but couldn't read the print without glasses. However, I did see that the company is in my town. We also have a Starbucks plant here, so I admire anyone who competes with them locally.

I bought some and am drinking a cup right now. Great stuff. I also put my glasses on and read the back. The man who owns the company is blind and proceeds from sales go to blind children. Yippee! Many years ago I had the most amazing job volunteering at the Braille Institute in Los Angeles. Believe it or not, I taught those kids how to build and race soap box derby cars. Seeing the expressions on the kids' faces when the cars first started rolling was priceless.  It was a totally new sensation for them.  There were a lot of crashes, but everyone had a good time. We made sure the hill wasn't steep enough for the cars to get up to high speeds.  This kids laughed heartily, couldn't care less whether they won or lost, and not a single tear was shed during the competition.  It was a stark contrast from what I've seen at other children's sporting events.

Sunday Stills: On the Road

Siren Intersection

I've talked about Siren Highway, but Siren Intersection is another story.  Probably about 60% of the time that emergency vehicles race past our house, they are going to a car accident at this one very dangerous intersection in a rural part of our county.  I pass through that intersection almost every time I drive, so I thought I knew all the hazards and illusions it had to offer.

Today I was returning home from getting some x-rays done, heading south on the highway, approaching Siren Intersection.  The traffic coming from the north and south have the right-of-way with no stop signs and a speed limit of 55 MPH.  The traffic coming from the east and west do have stop signs.  The most common accident at this intersection occurs when there is a short break in the north / south traffic, and both the east and west drivers go at the same time, but one is headed straight while the other is making a left.  Boom!  Some left-turners are the cause of the problem because they don't use their turn signals, but other times the turn signal is on, but the sun prevents the other driver from seeing it.

Another common scenario is that someone at a stop sign has their view blocked by a car in the right-hand lane and they don't see that the left lane of the north-south direction is occupied.  They pull out and blam!  They're blind-sided by a ghost car that came out of nowhere.

What happened today was a totally new scenario for me.  I was traveling south with my turn signal on so that I could make a left turn to go east.  There was a break in traffic when a northbound vehicle slowed down into his right-hand turn lane.  It was a long lane, so there was time for me to turn left before he made his right.

I was in the middle of my turn when the west-bound driver stepped on the gas to cross the intersection quickly during the break.  He had a stop sign and did not have the right-of-way until the intersection was clear.  Apparently, he was only looking to his left at the right-turner, and had assumed that I was going straight.  He timed it in his head that I should be out of the intersection by then, but because he didn't look to his right again, he didn't know that I had slowed down to make a left. 

Anyway, I was in my mother's little Toyota Camry and he was driving a big huge RAM diesel truck.  All I saw was his grill bearing down on my driver's side window.  I braced for impact and leaned on my horn while gassing it harder in hopes that he would hit the back seat of the car instead of directly hitting me.  He slammed on his brakes and it was a one-foot miss.  Scary as heck.  You'd better believe I got the biggest shock of adrenaline I've ever experienced.  When I get too much adrenaline pumped too fast into my system, I get light headed and can pass out from fright.

When I looked up in my rear view mirror, the guy was stuck halfway in the intersection because the jerk behind him pulled up to the stop sign, not allowing him to back up, and the north-bound traffic was having to stop.  The driver making the right pulled in behind me much sooner than he should have, so he was probably speeding and adding to the problem by cutting down the time people had to take advantage of the break in traffic.  He was pulling a trailer too, and I know you have to make the turn slow with trailers.  There's a fruit stand right on that corner, so drivers are always pulling on and off the road there at the corner of the intersection.  There are also fruit stand shoppers crossing the street on foot.  So, anybody who lives here locally knows to be cautious when making that turn.  I just couldn't believe that guy couldn't slow down, especially after he saw that I almost got hit by a driver who wasn't paying attention.

Ultimately, all it takes is for a couple of drivers to either not be paying attention or not respecting the speed limit or not respecting someone else's right-of-way in order to cause an accident.  I think it is dangerous to have cross traffic on a busy highway where the speed limit is 55 MPH.  There are many intersections in our community where there is cross traffic even where the speed limit is 65 MPH.  We have memorials off the the side of most of these intersections to honor those who lost their lives when cross traffic pulled out in front of them.  That setup was fine 10 years ago when the population was low and there weren't many vehicles on the road, but now that our community has grown and we have bumper-to-bumper traffic, the county really needs to either lower the speed limit or put in traffic lights. 

Looks Like They're Here to Stay

The boulder moving is still going on next door. The engine of that front loader starts up at 8:00 AM every morning and goes all day, with the exception of when the workers take their lunch break. Since this lady always ships in outhouses each time she has a construction crew working on her property, I take it that she doesn't like sharing her personal bathroom with strangers. I, of course, can't use my own toilet without the sounds of male voices yelling at each other over the din of the motor just outside my bathroom window. Oh well, at least they are making more noise than I am, so they can't hear me. Hee hee. I always love it when I have to use the bathroom while her guests are having a quiet barbeque just a few feet away.

Anyway, I got a chance to see what all the racket is about. Apparently, my neighbor is tearing up her sagebrush yard and installing a beautiful garden with boulders and bulbs and roses. I'm glad that she's tearing out some of that sagebrush, because it has been wreaking havoc on our sinuses over the years. People complain that we use too much water for all our grass, but we also have horses that need to eat that grass, and because we have grass, we don't get much sage or other weeds compared to our neighbors.

The Puncture Vine on our other neighbors' lot has overtaken the road and our driveways now, so I've been going out everyday pulling these vines up out of the ground. Once they mature, they lay down dozens of goat heads, which get stuck in the frogs of horse feet and the soles our our shoes. They get tracked into the house, stick to the carpet, and then someone in bare feet comes along and steps on them. Ouch! It's very painful.

In other news, I got another offer on my mother's house. The house has been on the market since May, was in escrow once, but the buyer backed out after seeing the inspection report. My real estate agent was bugging me to drop the price by another $30,000 to $80,000 every other week, and I got fed up. I signed a contract with him, because he said he could sell that house for me at a certain price within a matter of weeks no problem. Here we are four months later and there were no more offers. I told him I would not drop the price on the house anymore, because in reality, if I dropped the price far enough, I could sell the house myself, because I may as well be giving it away for free. He got really bitter about that and I knew that both of us were sick of each other and on the verge of prematurely ending the contract.

Then, out of the blue, came this offer to buy the house with cash. The offer was $69,000 less than my latest asking price, and $189,000 less than the price my real estate agent bragged he could sell it for back in May. My first reaction was, "No way."

However, then, amongst all the forms sent to me, I found a letter written to me from the buyer. He explained that it has been his life-long dream to own a Spanish Colonial home of this character. He has served a historical housing committee and promised to retain the original character of the home during his renovations. He said that his family is growing with one small child and another on the way, and they have outgrown their current home. He really wanted this house, but could not afford to pay any more than what he offered.

I looked him up on the Internet and was surprised to see that he is a gifted photographer and his wife is a freelance writer. That sealed the deal for me. I'm a photographer and a freelance writer, so I know how hard it is to make money in those professions. The house and neighborhood are perfect for a family with young children. I'd much rather sell to them at a lower price than to some contractor who is just going to remodel everything without preserving the integrity of the home, and then sell the house for a profit. So, I accepted their offer, and now the house is in escrow again. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that this will work out for all of us. The buyer was even nice enough to ask me to stop by next time I'm in town so that he can meet me.

This means that if all goes well, our financial troubles should end around the middle of October, and I can wrap up settling my mother's estate by December when I shouldn't have anymore debts to pay off. It will be so nice to relax and stop worrying for a change.

Rotten Wood

I woke up to a rainbow over my pasture, hoping that rainbow set the tone for the day.

However, immediately after taking this picture, some construction workers showed up next door. This is a job that's been going on since last week. I remember going outside and getting the pasture water trough ready for the horses, but before I could move them from the paddock to the pasture, a huge truck and trailer showed up next door and began dumping what turned out to be one of several loads of boulders. If you've never heard a truck dump boulders, trust me when I say it is eardrum-crushing. Obviously, I wouldn't be able to take more horses out to the pasture until they were done with the dumping.

It eventually quieted down, so I walked outside to halter the horses, when another huge truck and trailer pulled up onto my property next to my pasture and began unloading a front loader. So, I had to abandon moving the horses to pasture again.  Apparently, my neighbor didn't think she had enough room on her property for this truck, so she sent them over to my property without permission.  That's typical.  I have some neighbors across the road who had an empty lot, and all the other neighbors were always instructing their guests and truck deliveries to park there.  The land owners got sick of it and put a fence around their lot, even though they don't use it for anything.  I know how they feel.  It's the principal of the matter.  It's always polite to ask, and not just assume that it's okay to trespass on the neighbors' land.

Someone drove the front loader over to my neighbor's place and began pushing boulders around. Today they showed up and continued pushing boulders around. I have no idea what they are doing, but I suspect it has something to do with preventing weeds from growing, because this neighbor is obsessed with weeds.

I figured the horses would be terrified, but they surprised me by being curious about all the activity next door -- so curious that they chewed through two panels of wood fence to try to get a closer look.

I was wearing sweats and no makeup and hadn't brushed my hair all day when I needed to run outside to feed them. I thought I would just feed them really fast and no one would see me for more than a few seconds. However, when I ran outside and found the fence in this condition, I knew I had to fix it because once they got the third panel down, they'd be loose.  (The top panel was actually hanging to the ground.  I moved it up and propped it higher up against the middle panel.)

I ran over to survey the damage and pulled the old rusty nails out of the post. I couldn't fix the bottom panel without a replacement, so I tried to re-nail in the top panel. I was talking to my horses, asking them who was to blame for this and exclaiming my disgust over the fact that they broke two panels in the same section on the same day, when I heard someone say something nearby and jumped out of my skin.  I thought I was alone.

I looked over, and just on the other side of my chain-link fence were these three strange men who had been moving boulders around in my neighbor's yard, and they were all just sitting on the ground eating their lunches watching me throw a tantrum over the broken fence in my so-called private yard. I really did not want anyone to see me when I went outside, and here I had an audience the entire time I was out there. It turned out I couldn't nail the panel back in, because the wood was too rotted and split from just me touching it. I need two new panels, and I know my husband wants to start replacing the wood with metal poles, so I'll have to wait for him to get home.

The timing of this couldn't be worse, because my husband was home for an entire week last week doing work about the house, and I'm sure now that he's back at the office he is swamped. The last thing he needs is to be repairing broken fences when he gets home from work. He'll have to show me where he's hiding all the hardware, so I can do it. He had hired a lady to help him at the office, and the lady kept complaining about the work he was giving her, (I guess it wasn't interesting enough or important enough), so she quit the day that he left for his vacation, which put the office in a tailspin since she was supposed to be doing my husband's job while he was away. I was like, "Really, lady? You couldn't have waited one week to quit so that my husband could have had a vacation?"

He ended up doing work from home pretty much every day of his vacation and doesn't get paid for any of that time. I guess bad timing seems to be the running theme for us lately.

Heavy Rain and Hail

The videos speak for themselves...


It's a good thing I covered the hay...

Afternoon Thunderstorms

Afternoon thunderstorms have started moving in each day in our area. I have to learn how to plan my days carefully. I noticed that Lostine needed to have her mane washed and detangled, but first I had to feed the horses their lunch. By the time they finished eating, these clouds and some wind gusts moved in.

It was cooling down quickly, so I didn't want to get my horse all wet and give her the chills.

Lightning struck off in the distance, followed by siren after siren after siren. We've got another fire in the mountains to our east. This one is threatening homes.

We had a fire up in Lake Tahoe near Spooner Summit a couple of days ago that they believe was caused by lightning. I'll have to check on the letterbox I planted there to make sure it didn't burn up. These are trying times for people all over our country thanks to Mother Nature, people going crazy, and a number of other nutty things. Please, please, oh please, let our country have an uneventful Sunday tomorrow.

New Color for the Master Bathroom

For 17 years we've lived in a house with a pink bedroom and pink master bath. The wallpaper was pink with baby blue ribbons and dolls on it. We hated it, but never had the time or energy to redecorate... and before someone suggests we could have hired someone, we don't let strangers into our house.  We've had bad luck with that in the past.   I think my husband was a good sport for putting up with it for as long as he did. I always tried to make our bed covers mostly blue to bring a little masculinity into that part of the house.

Anyway, my husband and I spent several weeks tearing the wallpaper down in the master bathroom. There was wall to ceiling wallpaper, including wallpaper on the ceiling! We discovered that the wall had never been painted. There was nothing but drywall underneath, so my husband sanded the walls, painted primer on, and then we picked out a color called "Lightweight Beige". Does this look beige to you?

We find this to be so ironic, because we meant to paint our other bathroom and kitchen beige too, and now all three rooms are yellow. I don't mind yellow. It's better than pink, but since our master bedroom is still pink, this area of our house looks like a nursery.

There must be something about the lighting and the carpet in our house that brings out the yellow in paints.  My husband pretty much gave up his entire summer to work on this project, and the bathroom feels so much cleaner and spacious now without that cluttered wallpaper.

I know I have a lot of lotions, perfumes, and make up on the counter.  I'm really not a beauty supply fanatic.  Some of it came from my mother's house.  I've already stuffed all her other beauty supplies in the cabinets under the sinks, so there wasn't anywhere else to put the rest except out in the open.  There's still dust all over everything, so I have it on my To Do List to wipe off each item on the counter, wipe down the counter top, and clean the mirrors.

It's nice having one of the problem rooms in our house fixed.  I consider this one more step toward being able to sell the house some day.  Nevada is so depressed that every other house on the main road in front of our house is up for sale and has been up for sale for years in some cases.  Most of these houses are selling for a lot less than what the owners paid for them.  I suspect that either the owners could no longer afford the variable mortgage rates, or got sick of the non-stop traffic on what used to be a quiet road.  I'm getting used to the traffic now, but I can't stand all the emergency vehicle sirens blasting past our house at all hours of the day and night... which leads into my next post...

Do I Feed My Horses Too Much?

I just cleaned all the manure out of the paddock yesterday.  How can three little horses poop this much?  The view looking west:

The view looking north:

Gabbrielle's stall:

Bombay's stall:

Of course, you know Lostine is the one pooping in the other two horses' stalls.  She always has to mark her territory.  Lostine!

Seriously?

This manure pile is about two and a half feet high and I can no longer push the wagon up on top of it.  I need a new place to start piling manure.

Now, before anyone starts giving me advice on how to feed my horses, this is a J-O-K-E.  See the label.  It reads, "humor".  I know that my humor doesn't always come through in my writing, so I thought I had better spell it out.  This is also a warning to anyone considering owning three horses.  Get your pitchfork ready.

Time to Set Up an Ambush Again

It appears that my night stalker is back.  I was walking up my driveway looking around for a bunny,

and spotted something strange on the island on our driveway.  We have a U-shaped driveway with a bunch of bushes and trees in the middle of the U,

and it points directly at our kitchen window, which we leave open late at night even if the lights are on inside the house, because we can let the cooler air into the house.  I walked right onto the island and found a partially full bottle of Smirnoff vodka sitting upright.

I brought the bottle of vodka in to show to my husband and said, "You see?  I'm not imagining things when I say that someone is trespassing on our property at night and looking in our windows.  This was out in our driveway island."

He just laughed at me.

Well, it didn't blow in from off the street and land upright now, did it?  This is a big part of why I can't call the police for help, because my own husband doesn't support me.  He thinks I'm just paranoid, and he probably wouldn't hesitate to dismiss my complaints should the police talk to him.  So, I'll probably have to set up one of my ambushes.  I wish I could get night vision glasses so that I could see the guy coming.

This is really a shame, because things had really settled down and I was feeling comfortable leaving the gate unlocked at night, but I see that I really can't relax at all.  I'm surrounded by perverts and creeps.  I don't think this is one of my nosy neighbors, because they don't drink.  I suspect this is a young man who lives in a house across the highway, because my son has seen him standing next to my pasture smoking cigarettes and drinking beer some nights after sunset.  I guess he's not allowed to do that on his own property, so he walks over to our property to do it. 

I wouldn't mind if he'd stay on the edge of our property and clean up his garbage, but he always leaves his cigarette butts and beer cans behind.  Apparently, now he has graduated onto hard liquor and just tries to hide the bottle in the bushes on our driveway, so he can come back later for more.  I have no doubt he's watching us through our open kitchen window while he's hiding from his family and drinking on our property. 

What the hell do I have to do to get some privacy in this neighborhood?

If it's not one neighbor, it's another.  They are all freaks.  I've been trying to clean the paddock every day instead of just once a week on Sunday mornings when my nosy neighbors are in church, because now that Gabbrielle is back home, the poop piles up three times faster than it did with two horses.  I always look for a time when my neighbors' vehicles are gone, so I can shovel without an audience.  I only got two scoops in today before the woman came driving up the road into her driveway.

I shoveled some more, waiting for her to get out of her car and go inside her house, but wasn't hearing any door slamming.  I looked up, and she was sitting in the driver's seat with the door open, leaning out and stretching her torso, sticking her head up in the air like a prairie dog, just staring at me.  I sighed in disgust and shook my head, and then went back to shoveling.  She got the hint and got out with her little boy that she babysits and her dog, and went inside the house.

But that wasn't the end of it.  Of course, she had to forget something and walk out to the car again to get it.  After years of living next door to her, I was expecting it, so I left the manure fork and wheelbarrow and went behind my truck to pet the horses while they weeded my RV lane, where she couldn't stare at me.  I stopped shoveling manure, hoping that she will make the connection that every time she or her husband comes out to watch, I leave and the manure piles up, while every time they are gone, my yard stays clean.

Although, considering the toilet, wash basin, washing machine, dryer, oven, furniture and piles of other junk they have in their yard, I doubt they really care whether my horse paddock is clean or not. 

One More Reason To Get The Heck Out of Dodge

I haven't been able to function well lately as I've been hit with a whole slew of health problems.  I was due for my annual appointment anyway, so I set up an appointment to see a nurse.  One of my doctors left town and my other doctor is semi-retired and only available on Thursdays, so now I have to see an APN instead of an MD.  That's the state of health care where I live, but this nurse actually does a more thorough job than any doctor I've ever seen.

So, I was driving to my appointment this morning, a 45-minute drive into the city, and I got stopped at the same traffic light three times.  It has been a while since I've driven into the city, but I couldn't imagine that the population exploded that much over the summer, so I blamed all the traffic on the Labor Day tourists.  However, as we inched along, it became apparent that there was a serious problem up ahead.  There were police cars everywhere and the main highway was shut down in Carson City.

I got up to the intersection where most of the activity was, and saw that both the iHOP and the McDonalds across the street from it were cordoned off with police tape and customers were standing in huddles out in front of the restaurants.  My family and I eat at the iHOP all the time and love the staff there.  We always leave big tips, because the waiters and waitresses are so friendly that they just make your day.

Reporters were running all over the place with their cameras and I didn't see any wrecked cars, so I suspected this must be a shooting incident.  Just yesterday my husband and I drove past a  new business in town that is a gun pawn shop.  They have a sign out front that says, "Semi-automatic weapons and assault rifles."

My husband said, "That's just great.  All we need now is a bunch of idiots running around with assault rifles, as if this town doesn't already have enough problems."  Nevada has the highest unemployment rate in the nation, so you don't want a bunch of disgruntled workers having access to guns.

Well, when I got home an hour later, we looked up the news story on the Internet and sure enough, some idiot with an AK-47 went into the iHOP and shot 11 people!  4 are dead.  They had to care flight some of the shooting victims out of there in critical condition.

I was trying to find a route that would still take me to the medical office, but traffic was backed up on all the side streets.  They had police directing traffic at all the major intersections.  I looked at the clock and saw it was 3 minutes until my appointment and the medical office was about 20 miles away.  So, I grabbed my mobile phone and tried my darndest to read the touch screen, which looked just like a block of black in the sun's glare.  I covered it with my hand and found the doctors' office number, called and was instantly put on hold for about 5 minutes.

I got up to another intersection with a bunch of cops, and it suddenly hit me that Nevada recently passed a law that it is illegal to drive and talk on mobile phones.  Here I was sitting there in my car with this stupid phone pressed to my ear while I was on hold.  So, I struggled with the glare some more, trying to find which centimeter of screen to push to get it on speakerphone.  I couldn't really tell, so I guessed, hoping I wasn't pressing "End Call".  I got lucky and pressed the speakerphone, and then set the phone on the seat beside me.

When I finally got a live person and explained the situation, she rescheduled me for an appointment the next day.  She said.  "10:30 or 11:00?"  I said 10:30.  She said, "Let's do 11:00 because it will give you more time to get here."

I was annoyed by that comment.  I would have been there on time if they hadn't shut down the highway.  This was totally out of my control.  I'm probably the most punctual person on earth.  But I knew that the receptionist wasn't in the middle of this snarl of traffic and couldn't possibly understand how dire the situation was for every driver in the city.  I suspect she probably received dozens of calls right after mine from people in the same predicament.

I ended up driving through a supermarket parking lot just to get out of traffic, and I found a driveway that took me in the opposite direction, so that I could go back home. 

You know what is weird?  The last time my husband and I went there a few weeks ago, I remember sitting in a booth and thinking, "If someone walked in the door right now with a gun and started shooting up the place, there would be nowhere for us to hide other than under the table."

I have no idea why I even had such a morbid thought.  I've never had that thought in any other restaurant where I have eaten.  But for an instant there, I remember feeling terror and nervously watching the people coming in the front door while also looking around for a back door where people could escape.  As of this moment, no one knows what the shooter's motives were, because he shot himself.  Some State agencies in the city have been put on lock down.  Apparently, the guy shot up several businesses surrounding the iHOP and some cars in the parking lots.  Like I said in the title of this post, the increase in crime in this area is just one more reason to get the heck out of Dodge.

UPDATE:  I went into the city the next day for my appointment, and they still had the entire shopping center and street blocked off.  Various investigative agencies were still processing the scene.  It looked like the news media still hadn't moved out.  A lot of people have been affected deeply by this incident, because that iHOP has been around forever and has been a favorite of so many locals.  I'm sure everyone is thinking, "That could have been me or someone I knew."

My condolences go out to the victims' families and friends, and all the survivors who had to experience such senseless violence.  This act by one man is so far reaching.  All the businesses in that area are now losing money while the incident is being investigated, and so many businesses were already struggling to begin with.  I suspect some of them may have to close down permanently.  A lot of employees are out of work.  Instinct tells me that the iHOP won't come back.  They'll probably have to sell the building and whoever buys it will have to completely remodel it. 

As I was driving past the scene this second time, a woman in front of me turned her head to look, but also turned her wheel and almost drove up over the cones into the oncoming lane, which makes me wonder how many car accidents have been caused by gawking drivers in the area since the incident.  Since there doesn't appear to be anyone alive to prosecute, I hope that law enforcement will wrap things up soon and let the surrounding business owners get back to making their bread and butter.  There's no point in making a terrible thing worse.

Hay Troubles

I've been seeing signs up all over the valley regarding hay for sale for the past month.  I don't know what happened exactly, but I kept sleeping through the weekends and struggling with a variety of illnesses, and before I knew it I was down to 3 bales of hay and most of the signs regarding hay for sale had come down.  I called around, but there was no alfalfa-grass mix to be found -- only grass.  I can't feed my horses straight grass, because it doesn't keep the weight on them.  I'd have to buy double the amount I normally buy, and give the horses free choice since they have such fast metabolisms. 

So, I called the expensive hay farmer who delivers a block, and asked for one, assuming he'd have plenty of blocks since he out-priced what most of his customers could afford, and lost a lot of business.  Boy, was I wrong.  That's was last year.  This year is completely different.  He didn't have any blocks left, so he said he'd deliver 10 bales of uneven mixed hay to hold me over until the third cutting of the season.  If things are that bad this year, I had better pay him in advance for a second block to be delivered this winter.  I'm also going to have to race around the valley and buy as many pick-up bed loads as I can as soon as I start seeing the third cutting getting baled, because I don't think that two blocks will hold over my horses until next year's first cutting.

I really would like to know what people do when all the hay in their area sells out.  Do they order a shipment from out of state and pay for the transportation?  From what I hear, other states aren't faring much better.  What happens when our entire country runs out of hay?  Do people just cut their horses loose in some mountain meadow near a stream? 

This whole situation just seems ridiculous.  It gets worse with each year.  Somebody called me last night asking if they can have my support to keep Obama in office.  I was sitting there thinking, "I've been out of work for 10 months, can't find a decent paying job, can't sell my mother's house, we lost our employer-paid health insurance, we can't afford medical care for ourselves at all anymore, the price of everything is rising around us, and I can't find hay to feed my horses anymore." 

I gave her a resounding NO.

We've been watering our pasture like crazy, but it's that time of year when it is just too hot and the soil has been stamped down by the horses, so it is poor quality, and the grass has been eaten down to the roots so it is poor quality as well.  We can't get the pasture grass to grow anymore this year, so I'll have to start hand-grazing the horses on our front lawn.

I just went outside now and was surprised to see that the hay fairy stopped by my house and neither the dogs nor I heard a thing!  No one came to the door to let me know they were here, and they left the hay without leaving a bill.  I'm sure I'll either get a bill in the mail or I'll pay for the 10 bales when the block is delivered in a few weeks, but it was a nice surprise to just have it delivered without having to give up an hour of my day to chat.  I think this is the first time in the history of me ordering hay in which I received next day delivery without excuses.  I guess he sensed the desperation in my voice when I said I was down to three bales.  It's nice to know that someone cares.

Siren Highway

There's a section of highway near where I live that I call "Siren Highway", because emergency vehicles are always racing off to some accident in that area.  I have never understood how some many drivers can have head-on collisions in the same spot.  There are several crosses and memorials off to the side of the highway, yet so many drivers keep on thinking that won't happen to them.  You can see for miles ahead, yet somehow people just keep taking chances and regretting it.

So, when my friend and I were returning home from our day trip, we had to travel that stretch of highway.  I was driving exactly the speed limit, because the NHP has been busting everyone left and right for minor offenses.  Of course, I had a line of cars with California plates behind me, because everyone in California speeds.  My philosophy is, "When in Rome do what the Romans do," because I figure the locals know what is going on. 

However, not all other people share the same philosophy.  So, I was driving along when I noticed the driver ahead of me swerve into the oncoming lane and then back into our lane.  I said, "I wonder what that was about..."

As we approached the spot where the driver swerved, I saw a coyote standing on the shoulder of the road.  I said, "Well, I guess I'll give it a wide berth too."

Just as I began to swerve into the oncoming lane, the coyote shot out in front of me across the highway at a trot.  I swerved back into my lane and braked at the same time to avoid hitting it.  I had forgotten about the guy tailgating me and all the other drivers tailgating each other, and looked in my rear view mirror to see what was going on.

The guy behind me decided to try to pass me in the oncoming lane while I was braking and swerving, and he almost hit the coyote.  He braked, but couldn't get back into our lane because the car behind him moved up to my bumper and took his spot.  In the meantime, we had a line of big trucks and cars coming straight at us.  As soon as the coyote cleared my bumper, I gassed it to open the space to let the guy in the oncoming lane back in, hoping other drivers would have the sense to let him back in as well.  Fortunately, they did, but after that incident I think I have a better understanding of why there are so many head-on collisions on that stretch of highway.

I said to the driver who tried to pass me while I was trying to avoid hitting the coyote, "Yes, this is Nevada.  We have wildlife here.  That's why we don't speed or tailgate."

Of course, he couldn't hear me, but he learned his lesson and did not try to pass me again after that.