tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64508997138786149502024-03-17T14:39:02.990-07:00Range to RangeA glimpse of life on a 250,000 acre working cattle ranch.peteyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04842363901612535790noreply@blogger.comBlogger287125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6450899713878614950.post-16663063206584714812024-02-27T17:00:00.000-08:002024-02-27T17:00:15.096-08:00The Journey Continues<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwKGBAGgbdYsjr5KQHXx-JoYlOpYwE8Z5of-SO7buvzdlQeai7Lh2MjhoOrr1C6WhGHcgrPw3yDXJbNnhdRnaWldLhMJb_MzdfizWFunnXfmaZiljW0iTFwJW6M4bcVsaiIUpkph4-UYXEqE9Gmy-1Txye2swoEBbbPtQHGO8FQF6pzLb62_LqLba1NuQ/s4032/IMG_7592.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwKGBAGgbdYsjr5KQHXx-JoYlOpYwE8Z5of-SO7buvzdlQeai7Lh2MjhoOrr1C6WhGHcgrPw3yDXJbNnhdRnaWldLhMJb_MzdfizWFunnXfmaZiljW0iTFwJW6M4bcVsaiIUpkph4-UYXEqE9Gmy-1Txye2swoEBbbPtQHGO8FQF6pzLb62_LqLba1NuQ/w300-h400/IMG_7592.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><p>Boone is 4 1/2 months now and is already enormous. Just guessing but I would bet he's close to 70 lb already. He's on IAM's large puppy food and eats 5 cups a day. Ouch!</p><p>Fen's food lasts almost 3 months. Boone's doesn't quite make it a month, I had to get an emergency delivery from Chewy, as we obviously can't just go to the store and buy dogfood. As he has bonded so much to me, more than to Fen, I am having to send him outside more as I don't want him resource guarding me from Fen. I hope to pick up a couple of bottle lambs this week that we will butcher when they are big enough...actually I plan to butcher 1 and sell the other two, hopefully getting enough to help pay for a couple of hair sheep, that will be permanent. I really miss my sheeple. Especially Rosemary. She was the absolute best. Anyway I will move Boone outside and the lambs can hang out with Mister, on the other side of the fence from Boone as he is too young to be with young stock. This way he can bond to livestock, and I can take the lambs to the round pen to let Fen do a little herding practice. Win-win.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-7yloU_k2CCs4wueb0lMMPFZfBUE3tTa1IVeYNhR8Rrtz5t7mNOV9yA0CY6nzOeafNObIis0WHgsw4VrWoqfJM769e2KZPc2Nzvf3vgLWa3-btOzFZJ4YfgEyOanBGS5AeArTS6dP7N_DQ_XSQoC6xpErKnomsF-vrL2l6MzNuboNn_lf1AtXR8Zs0Jw/s4032/IMG_3844.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-7yloU_k2CCs4wueb0lMMPFZfBUE3tTa1IVeYNhR8Rrtz5t7mNOV9yA0CY6nzOeafNObIis0WHgsw4VrWoqfJM769e2KZPc2Nzvf3vgLWa3-btOzFZJ4YfgEyOanBGS5AeArTS6dP7N_DQ_XSQoC6xpErKnomsF-vrL2l6MzNuboNn_lf1AtXR8Zs0Jw/s320/IMG_3844.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSh4RrI9njYaFBanIg1jaVfNN4wcJxN5FV47dHZhMLncgWJNVDVe-Q8uTOb_5QUJhOxZSNu4qQYMrdvnmgimOB8kSMySr-SKPLOLLJzwZTb70c3jK4i1vAuUdFH3AgQYBRw-VQcXq8zHHdNnn3Y23M6dbFPrmCK22XdNNrskht0iC79L1x9GWa3nbuzlY/s4032/IMG_3275.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSh4RrI9njYaFBanIg1jaVfNN4wcJxN5FV47dHZhMLncgWJNVDVe-Q8uTOb_5QUJhOxZSNu4qQYMrdvnmgimOB8kSMySr-SKPLOLLJzwZTb70c3jK4i1vAuUdFH3AgQYBRw-VQcXq8zHHdNnn3Y23M6dbFPrmCK22XdNNrskht0iC79L1x9GWa3nbuzlY/s4032/IMG_3275.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSh4RrI9njYaFBanIg1jaVfNN4wcJxN5FV47dHZhMLncgWJNVDVe-Q8uTOb_5QUJhOxZSNu4qQYMrdvnmgimOB8kSMySr-SKPLOLLJzwZTb70c3jK4i1vAuUdFH3AgQYBRw-VQcXq8zHHdNnn3Y23M6dbFPrmCK22XdNNrskht0iC79L1x9GWa3nbuzlY/s320/IMG_3275.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div></div><p>Fen had a hard month this past month. Because of the roosters attacking him, he developed a fear of chickens. Of course I killed both roosters, so sadly unless I can find a dog friendly one, no chicks for us. He's been attacked by ranch dogs, so he has also developed a little fear and a bit of reactivity to strange dogs (but it doesn't stop him wanting to go out front anyway *sigh*) which is not acceptable in a Service Dog, so we are also working through that. With Boone out back, in the house with me is</p><p>Fen's safe space, although he still prefers to be out playing with Boone or standing in the open front doorway, watching all the other dogs. He runs in and shuts the door if he gets scared and watches from the window, then opens the door again when he feels safe. He's the funniest dang dog!</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaSvqVWMOU5Ps5MbeDqgMi5iKG8BIcS_YVpdFgpW1-iJuANKtD5zDsgp7S9GrXo5rbyANYi-mkeQj0FQV0orKt2QmhdUCvpK9MRBBlugmnTP12Ue2Kb93F9nHNIel3FefhoWTFf94fFN_DJzTGT1-e20yihvjdctQkkqYchg1Dt-hfIfsutlYfbb8WZ9A/s4032/IMG_7562.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaSvqVWMOU5Ps5MbeDqgMi5iKG8BIcS_YVpdFgpW1-iJuANKtD5zDsgp7S9GrXo5rbyANYi-mkeQj0FQV0orKt2QmhdUCvpK9MRBBlugmnTP12Ue2Kb93F9nHNIel3FefhoWTFf94fFN_DJzTGT1-e20yihvjdctQkkqYchg1Dt-hfIfsutlYfbb8WZ9A/s320/IMG_7562.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><p>Although he has proven to be pretty resilient, I still want to work at restoring his confidence, because even though his overly exuberant personality used to drive me crazy, I have come to be very fond of it, along with his clownish ways. He's a hard dog not to love, not that I would try. Our beginnings were a little difficult as it was right after Heath's death and Fen had some baggage, but we worked out all the bugs and I am crazy about him. He's a great riding partner, and chore partner, and even though he isn't fond of doing public access still, he's a pretty good Service Dog for his age and limited experience.</p><p><br /></p><p>I've been making a LOT of sourdough bread, and loving it! The bread bowl recipe wasn't really what I wanted in a sandwich loaf so I finally found another recipe, that I have labelled "THE ONE". It's a little bit of a learning curve to make bread using such a wet dough but it's actually a lot easier than yeast breads. There are a few things I highly recommend having on hand before you start.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRM9gCMRyLTZj1398Xc84bFlRcvpjvknlM_y8yzvCSCCubnFYi-2Na2JbSLib4opKFsuFnaro5Ggx1VqX4gicIdv1QzUb09sJiVgEe9B2aOfqAadjsU-6cp1t1UsQa9f9xUqawQeXBHrfjQ6Sm8-hRaG-vfseVhHELEzIlWr7mQ0mGoTV308jAZNgKDnw/s4032/IMG_7569.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRM9gCMRyLTZj1398Xc84bFlRcvpjvknlM_y8yzvCSCCubnFYi-2Na2JbSLib4opKFsuFnaro5Ggx1VqX4gicIdv1QzUb09sJiVgEe9B2aOfqAadjsU-6cp1t1UsQa9f9xUqawQeXBHrfjQ6Sm8-hRaG-vfseVhHELEzIlWr7mQ0mGoTV308jAZNgKDnw/s320/IMG_7569.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKl13FB-DFt366u-MmjzM3o1UgASiRz4JwgTKF81p0CGCeDlkmg7Liw64HuL1CTAIBgQjGwsZsoM76bqG1Efrn-3igvDflUWPYOJ_PLRpWLaRqUEJ_mqyMRWKY9WQsRAmtwh1vnUHuDhD7H0zOWvmmT176KvQDj-fswHeNV2G2IYwBNloL4ZMb1orOyoU/s4032/IMG_7563.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKl13FB-DFt366u-MmjzM3o1UgASiRz4JwgTKF81p0CGCeDlkmg7Liw64HuL1CTAIBgQjGwsZsoM76bqG1Efrn-3igvDflUWPYOJ_PLRpWLaRqUEJ_mqyMRWKY9WQsRAmtwh1vnUHuDhD7H0zOWvmmT176KvQDj-fswHeNV2G2IYwBNloL4ZMb1orOyoU/s320/IMG_7563.jpeg" width="240" /></a></p><p>Of course you need a really active starter. I keep 2 jars going. One is in the fridge as backup and it gets fed once a week. The other jar I keep out and the day before I make bread, I pour everything out of the jar and either use or dispose of the discard. (don't pour it down the sink because it will clog your pipes when it hardens. It is great for your compost pile as the yeasty beasties help keep it going) Then I feed what is left in the jar which is just the stuff sticking to the sides and the bottom. I feed equal amounts of flour and water by weight to make enough for what I need the next day. It makes for a super happy bubbly starter that doubles itself in just a few hours, even in our very chilly house.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgefDGTP2bHtFkMVveXyWNmxnuQDDjHD_lG6GfZF0sCN4Qhc6B4-LG7tyDhKoD4cdT4-zMwMKHl6uusa2U-eKN770QbgV0t7ZJ0Awscb5oToN4zMUbSVyZVpv_6UAteHcta9NHYHkJ18W7568BJDO6m_eIVfYjwRy6h72yuH6IYLXGTh2iPl_Pk84msENI/s4032/IMG_7599.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgefDGTP2bHtFkMVveXyWNmxnuQDDjHD_lG6GfZF0sCN4Qhc6B4-LG7tyDhKoD4cdT4-zMwMKHl6uusa2U-eKN770QbgV0t7ZJ0Awscb5oToN4zMUbSVyZVpv_6UAteHcta9NHYHkJ18W7568BJDO6m_eIVfYjwRy6h72yuH6IYLXGTh2iPl_Pk84msENI/s320/IMG_7599.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>Another must is a kitchen scale, as to be successful, you need to measure your ingredients by weight not volume. I have this one:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjKAUGsctqUN_j-uKFyDIYKRo3ODfq8SHkMoA7_R3O7wWQk5OImIzfDmCKLcq-25aEK9gk5ly1HoRRVZaFw6h9QMgb-yEB3H7YmYro1dfw6j8CcuNCXLUiRyZ2r2rnKwrLfeRkZbT1U3XZKuhFDIql9kqWb_ghbhhqp-N4XcC7K_p59OmAKF1sx9xG584/s970/Screen%20Shot%202024-02-27%20at%202.29.10%20PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="471" data-original-width="970" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjKAUGsctqUN_j-uKFyDIYKRo3ODfq8SHkMoA7_R3O7wWQk5OImIzfDmCKLcq-25aEK9gk5ly1HoRRVZaFw6h9QMgb-yEB3H7YmYro1dfw6j8CcuNCXLUiRyZ2r2rnKwrLfeRkZbT1U3XZKuhFDIql9kqWb_ghbhhqp-N4XcC7K_p59OmAKF1sx9xG584/w400-h194/Screen%20Shot%202024-02-27%20at%202.29.10%20PM.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I like it because I can fit my mixing bowl on it if I need to, and still read the weights. It's plenty easy to tare and to change units of weight, and easy for me to read, even with my terrible eyesight, which is competing to be as bad as my hearing.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A dutch oven is also necessary. I have two and I'm glad I have 2 because we are easily going through 2 loaves a week and I want to be able to give some away to ranch family...and also try and ship some to my kids as I have heard you can actually ship sourdough without it getting stale.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The first one is just some cheap cast-iron I got on sale through a magazine ad when I was in my 20's, the second was my grandma's and then my mom's. It might even have been my great grandma's originally, as these things last forever and ever. They both measure 10' across at the top so are probably about 9' inside.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-qO7Dxf5OUX3KCw14dKWzGt_yhyphenhyphenklKOXH5xGtAslBTwW8kRnlZbgUaUrKDYEIhUnVyaS2v5r9wwSGh0ZZkbbJ7_laq9uhw0cHjRqfyapSLrCcBLpnetEWHIUfCreoPrNdnfrT0DJwDvtOdsA1fCExUli3U0PS_2IfsJcomZ8nlAYSQp9pW05uAO7fx0g/s4032/IMG_7637.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-qO7Dxf5OUX3KCw14dKWzGt_yhyphenhyphenklKOXH5xGtAslBTwW8kRnlZbgUaUrKDYEIhUnVyaS2v5r9wwSGh0ZZkbbJ7_laq9uhw0cHjRqfyapSLrCcBLpnetEWHIUfCreoPrNdnfrT0DJwDvtOdsA1fCExUli3U0PS_2IfsJcomZ8nlAYSQp9pW05uAO7fx0g/s320/IMG_7637.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP61dgrgFfyTuEgGeIDZ36GJMqLyKn3H6dQlqVkUhsSK0EiWx5-70gNS6yBqvQW5a99JNrb7rNOxwRq3HkwjCxbS4xvLkI6JNTOElGvQh7T473uoHRTCKJSK3JOwiiU6KWDufctQ9bn9Z0ena9qu0xGhke2KJJTBolBtMiLUFT_v7YKqPtS5tKJy9Q42g/s4032/IMG_7638.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP61dgrgFfyTuEgGeIDZ36GJMqLyKn3H6dQlqVkUhsSK0EiWx5-70gNS6yBqvQW5a99JNrb7rNOxwRq3HkwjCxbS4xvLkI6JNTOElGvQh7T473uoHRTCKJSK3JOwiiU6KWDufctQ9bn9Z0ena9qu0xGhke2KJJTBolBtMiLUFT_v7YKqPtS5tKJy9Q42g/s320/IMG_7638.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Three other things I would not do without are a </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1. a dough scraper. Mine are stainless steel and flat on the bottom, fine for dividing dough but a pita to try and scrap wet, sticky dough out of a bowl. I recommend the plastic, rounded edge ones.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">2. bannetons to let the shaped dough sit in to ferment</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">3. a bread lame to slice it so it will allow the dough to expand when cooking</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Amazon has a pretty nicely priced kit with all the stuff except the DO right now.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> I recommend watching a few videos on making SD. especially any that show you how to do the stretch and folds or slap and fold. Then if anyone is interested, just leave me a comment and I will post recipes.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We very nearly lost Mister last month. It began with an odd swelling on his mid belly but it wasn't "pigeon fever" aka "dryland distemper". He also had problems with his mouth. He went completely off feed, right away. I flushed his mouth with peroxide, which he didn't appreciate but it seemed to help. A few days later, he was eating some, but his face and chest was horribly swollen and the edema continued all the way to his sheath and down his hind legs. I couldn't find my thermometer (as my tackroom is pretty much non existent. Stuff is there, but you cannot get to it, much to my annoyance. ) One of the ranch wives who has worked for a vet for years said it looked like either heart or renal failure, but in his condition, we all agreed that 1. he would most likely not survive the trailer ride and 2. we couldn't afford the tests anyway. Nothing was likely to help him.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-OfodgY-toVcqRpRCpjivz0cVD0ApYYiydYlwVUfSmpbK8A5rGXn_A6btpxncqvIMnTkjtgC8EKq_ni2Rx2GyLq7hDG0oWQBzrhI_gDzFXjASI8KLA9cPFZPFykh1lje5PiTaK2D9bTF3-GAPBd1Sm_Mb5NPuzpc5kaqgW9cQt7BHJ8IWPOG1EDY2_Zg/s4032/IMG_7257.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-OfodgY-toVcqRpRCpjivz0cVD0ApYYiydYlwVUfSmpbK8A5rGXn_A6btpxncqvIMnTkjtgC8EKq_ni2Rx2GyLq7hDG0oWQBzrhI_gDzFXjASI8KLA9cPFZPFykh1lje5PiTaK2D9bTF3-GAPBd1Sm_Mb5NPuzpc5kaqgW9cQt7BHJ8IWPOG1EDY2_Zg/s320/IMG_7257.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyfb62KbC49EhDdW6QX9PzXeY4ws1obj0oHR7cxnLfynYdGWJ-agVNhD1Lr4Y70lHO3jOpO5FZgwjmaX_OMdSeEnadykd1zqO5Yh-qaAdAMUyaXYWod8oWH2yNCvmghf-TZIiXzxQwtH9PifNDOKeUBnx7YMgbDWuXCK_cr1rBTrB6vTnBLkPqypdGXo4/s4032/IMG_7259.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyfb62KbC49EhDdW6QX9PzXeY4ws1obj0oHR7cxnLfynYdGWJ-agVNhD1Lr4Y70lHO3jOpO5FZgwjmaX_OMdSeEnadykd1zqO5Yh-qaAdAMUyaXYWod8oWH2yNCvmghf-TZIiXzxQwtH9PifNDOKeUBnx7YMgbDWuXCK_cr1rBTrB6vTnBLkPqypdGXo4/s320/IMG_7259.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My friends on FB were all helping me to pray for him, the cowboys were on standby for if he started to suffer. I was praying to not have to make that decision and that if it was his time that he would just lay down and go quietly, with dignity.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A week later, he was eating fine, he was running and bucking and demanding his breakfast before we fed everyone else, and very little swelling was left. Now he is back to his old self, looking and feeling amazing. I am so grateful that he survived whatever this was. I will still have to face that day, sometime, but that day is not today. I pray when it comes, he will go quietly into the night. I pray we will have another summer of riding ahead of us as he and Fen and I had such great times last summer though they were far too few.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeaGMx67kbbbkH0gFz9weQ7V438VhMByv2UoJWk-7FZz8Kls0x1pRdmwSwa42TdKYsshJzvKRi2Ca7oZaFIxXBcZFqmlHKio_Zvx_kr5bPQv_lfOl6Bucqstdh8Ka8ynRV-grR9fywn7YzeKd4r3WrEBqM99taiB4ZfJVWdDuMc-9O8niu02-cirpMxsU/s4032/IMG_7502.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeaGMx67kbbbkH0gFz9weQ7V438VhMByv2UoJWk-7FZz8Kls0x1pRdmwSwa42TdKYsshJzvKRi2Ca7oZaFIxXBcZFqmlHKio_Zvx_kr5bPQv_lfOl6Bucqstdh8Ka8ynRV-grR9fywn7YzeKd4r3WrEBqM99taiB4ZfJVWdDuMc-9O8niu02-cirpMxsU/s320/IMG_7502.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">lookin' good old man!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Til next time, your friend Petey, (aka Kim) and the critters</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p><p></p>peteyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04842363901612535790noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6450899713878614950.post-9540248511435036732024-02-18T11:16:00.000-08:002024-02-18T11:16:57.653-08:002024 Already?Those of you who knew me when the blog was active, know that my health took a dump and I quit blogging. There was also a great deal of depression, which comes with my condition, and I would not subject my readers to what I felt or wrote. So in short, I got pretty flakey with my blogging. I will probably continue to be flakey about it, as my condition is incurable, but manageable at times I will try to write when I am able. <div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihpyj2lBrbdH5DZXOlQT6v1YWE7k8PmQRNZf3RhbWZJ2tKEksSCGU3NX-xiUi5zhUke3439oBnkUX2nHhfD0CYV4YbjFzvMJyy_zNv7f0U8Y4Oqc3Pm_G5ys_0P1GZgyUHZ1VfXwVpGGtm3c72_dgBFYx86I-nNaVv0EFDqWn3dkMcHALdbxXjMQ1C9xY/s3088/IMG_2799.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihpyj2lBrbdH5DZXOlQT6v1YWE7k8PmQRNZf3RhbWZJ2tKEksSCGU3NX-xiUi5zhUke3439oBnkUX2nHhfD0CYV4YbjFzvMJyy_zNv7f0U8Y4Oqc3Pm_G5ys_0P1GZgyUHZ1VfXwVpGGtm3c72_dgBFYx86I-nNaVv0EFDqWn3dkMcHALdbxXjMQ1C9xY/s320/IMG_2799.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /></div><div>Fen came home shortly after I lost my Heathen. It was a little challenging as his temperament is very different than Heath's was and his energy levels are HIGH. His mind is going constantly and I can hardly keep up. </div><div>He was 5 months old when he came to us, and technically had 3 owners in that short time. He knew how to counter surf and demand bark really well, but at least he was housebroke. So there's that.</div><div><br /></div><div>Every morning at 5:30, he would demand breakfast, getting louder with every second he had to wait, and of course I had to comply because waking TheMan is a big no-no. Interestingly, his demanding has taken the form of climbing in his crate and quietly waiting to be served by his inferiors. (That's me) </div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyNAxCwEfqDSJ5EXibt_ZJ0qx0vvCch_Im_CvIYWvWxgaxTzkNKg6JNbE9az2B29Xm00SyuFvIMIp4GJBJUQoUo8DIq4IRZpWesL83rZJahoe7oQe5Q-S-QqcEdNydozNk__d5P5kMBcw31vkiwVllJMLw6GoL9hUT1nVjLrp0A38XHSWUCJ_uPBXOfz0/s4032/IMG_3435.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyNAxCwEfqDSJ5EXibt_ZJ0qx0vvCch_Im_CvIYWvWxgaxTzkNKg6JNbE9az2B29Xm00SyuFvIMIp4GJBJUQoUo8DIq4IRZpWesL83rZJahoe7oQe5Q-S-QqcEdNydozNk__d5P5kMBcw31vkiwVllJMLw6GoL9hUT1nVjLrp0A38XHSWUCJ_uPBXOfz0/w240-h320/IMG_3435.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Also, if I am slow in feeding him, he makes scary faces at me.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgfkBLUArLHqdrAENcLAeAEKr7wnSM89VELCav6sOCZUZZ2nlGR_v8Bs72t9yPybTfVW_EAeWHbAVEwHmsrRZHJuoZUWez3XV6Af2Y3lZe-7ArRg1VCsfyVJ9z3sII9gzTjPLUmsjTRG2lYCoqtcHyVzhqeifUEyULFJQl-sY5cYhtozVoY-cGT68oAI4/s4032/IMG_4038.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgfkBLUArLHqdrAENcLAeAEKr7wnSM89VELCav6sOCZUZZ2nlGR_v8Bs72t9yPybTfVW_EAeWHbAVEwHmsrRZHJuoZUWez3XV6Af2Y3lZe-7ArRg1VCsfyVJ9z3sII9gzTjPLUmsjTRG2lYCoqtcHyVzhqeifUEyULFJQl-sY5cYhtozVoY-cGT68oAI4/s320/IMG_4038.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div><div>Then he would begin his extortion. He would find a plethora of things he knew he shouldn't have, and threaten to destroy them if I didn't "purchase them" with cookies. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcKxZ8Z6Zp_svOIJyjIMvPH_dePwyiOGeWTqS8zs73xhQ9kDZShyphenhyphenNXk_nQNgWoeHv9tA3TRY22U7XV6llBe2PtuR6LixZ1bHK7oYcAxBKVX8473NEh7MPF_-JXcFVer-Vbibu4kkghzzg4X7GolRgUkYGmE27Id5sLVTZ8rHleMZAMGdkjxM9MIpLhBcA/s4032/IMG_3761.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcKxZ8Z6Zp_svOIJyjIMvPH_dePwyiOGeWTqS8zs73xhQ9kDZShyphenhyphenNXk_nQNgWoeHv9tA3TRY22U7XV6llBe2PtuR6LixZ1bHK7oYcAxBKVX8473NEh7MPF_-JXcFVer-Vbibu4kkghzzg4X7GolRgUkYGmE27Id5sLVTZ8rHleMZAMGdkjxM9MIpLhBcA/w150-h200/IMG_3761.jpeg" width="150" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Every cloud has a silver lining. As Fen was consuming a fortune in cookies with his criminal activities, he was also learning to bring me anything he had, that I asked him to, as well as learning to hand me things. It translated really well to his picking up things I drop and handing them back to me, as well as bringing items I request.</div><div><br /></div><div>Ten months later, I still have to feed him at 5:30 every morning, but now he nuzzles me to wake me up, instead of screaming at me.</div><div><br /></div><div> I had a REALLY great summer! I fought like crazy to get stronger. I have been out of the wheelchair for over a year now and I don't want to go back to it. I started in spring by doing a TON of pruning overgrown bushes, and trying to find what plants survived the years of neglect while I was housebound. Not many did. But I still have roses, and hollyhocks seed like crazy here and even though they have overtaken the yard and choked most everything out, they are pretty.I planted annuals and stuff from seed to make me happy, and got a garden in (late, because the stupid pig was living in my garden and TheMan procrastinates a lot, and moving pig was no different) We had lots of squash and tomatoes. I canned straight tomatoes and made a bunch of the best Marinara sauce I have ever tasted.
It was too late for the brocolli and peas, the greenbeans were tough and the basil and everything tender was destroyed by a locust invasion. But I. Had. A. Garden. And I have plans for next year.
Everything else had a bumper crop. The raspberries were amazing. Fen was picking and eating them off the canes himself. Then there were millions of tiny apricots. (nothing got pruned)Then blackberries. Then more of the best peaches in the world. (Everyone on the ranch agrees, this peach tree is magical) I had tons of beautiful apples, but have no idea what kind because we bought the tree with three different kinds grafted on, but that was when we had goats and they broke into the yard and broke the trees and only this one of the grafts made it. They ate the tags so we are clueless but they are the best apples I ever had. VERY crisp, and both sweet and tart so perfect for cooking, canning and eating.
And lastly, my elderberry bush produced tons of beautiful medicinal berries for me to dehydrate to help us battle colds and flu this winter. I'm learning more about natural medicines so am encouraging the yarrow and prickly wild lettuce, and what I always considered weeds, are now going to be given a prime spot in my garden.
I spent time with Mister who is 29 this year. He still looks amazing and feels good as well, so we took a couple of rides when we could get Randy to saddle for me. We didn't go far, because the locusts were all over the ranch and Mister wasn't enjoying them jumping up in his face at all, but I am grateful for every second I got to ride. I hope next summer we ride much, much more.
I am still battling to gain strength and endurance. I haven’t gained a lot of ground, but today I lifted 59 lb Fen onto the grooming table. ( He’s like Pigpen, he hates to be groomed)
The fear of doing this, is that the surgeon who reattached my bicep tendon (which tore completely off of my shoulder while lifting my saddle onto Wimpy’s back) said if I tear it off again, he won’t be able to fix it, because I have had so many rotator cuff tears there is nothing to attach it to. Therefore, I get nervous when I have to use my arms for heavy stuff, like cleaning the floor of the chicken coop after TheMan threw straw down to combat the mud.
Anyone who has had livestock, knows what a huge mistake this is. Common sense should tell you that straw in mud turns into adobe brick.As we aren’t building any structures in the near future, adobe or otherwise, I am desperately using a garden fork to peel up the heavy stuff in layers before it’s too late. Then I proceed to push (or pull) the heavy manure bucket full of the stuff to the front of the yard by the garden where Pig is spending the winter, for TheMan to empty. I won’t risk losing the use of my arm for that. :)
Then I wrestled Fen and carried him from the end of the couch to the grooming table where I proceeded to clean him up. I had to risk it because his nails were getting too long
So I’ve been trying to stay busy between flares. I’ve been cooking, cleaning, painting the kitchen, taking care of meat rabbits aka rabids, training the dogs, etc. I have a lot of sewing projects to complete but my hands need to be in better shape for that.
Fen has been helping as he is able and the spirit moves him.
Our stove AND washing machine went out in November, right before Thanksgiving, and right before a very good friend came to spend a week. We muddled through just fine though and several weeks later, we had a new stove and new washer/dryer, courtesy of the ranch
Last night I made sourdough bread bowls and homemade clam chowder for dinner. The bread bowls I started yesterday as they needed bulk ferment overnight in the fridge. It was a new recipe and it is AMAZING!! I’m posting it here.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicW1Z6rvbvJW0ugcuvwUJvG8r1j8xRMvW7USyv1lBljdjZOt4WGfQPASYtvda9Dqj-RFq6V1eVJg86TtPt4kSJid_102EufR1D4vq-60i743Xl7_raAzOPY05It92-PSp0VBQCCZFqurw7s6OvxTc7aXk1DTyLzLwq80mqcpeDPe1HoQGc-40LCvdmYVU/s4032/IMG_7047.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicW1Z6rvbvJW0ugcuvwUJvG8r1j8xRMvW7USyv1lBljdjZOt4WGfQPASYtvda9Dqj-RFq6V1eVJg86TtPt4kSJid_102EufR1D4vq-60i743Xl7_raAzOPY05It92-PSp0VBQCCZFqurw7s6OvxTc7aXk1DTyLzLwq80mqcpeDPe1HoQGc-40LCvdmYVU/s320/IMG_7047.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWYko8K2R9zrmMYTvgPlP-cP91jTRJB6nhbr-wz4T5SnV0ST3YkaHnmrXuUn8NpgZ1AyfUWM2PAtTgxeb3TxBCZGg5Mt4Ffee0E5i0gwZyVihsxJSsliw48-8NQoBhF6rBkjDg0pbdoqHL0h7hpVAphts-Q0EstxtvQv2BKQewV9Sf9a9pLlJKTI3vCIg/s4032/IMG_7052.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWYko8K2R9zrmMYTvgPlP-cP91jTRJB6nhbr-wz4T5SnV0ST3YkaHnmrXuUn8NpgZ1AyfUWM2PAtTgxeb3TxBCZGg5Mt4Ffee0E5i0gwZyVihsxJSsliw48-8NQoBhF6rBkjDg0pbdoqHL0h7hpVAphts-Q0EstxtvQv2BKQewV9Sf9a9pLlJKTI3vCIg/w300-h400/IMG_7052.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div> https://myculturedpalate.com/sourdough-bread-bowls/
They really were excellent. I tied tea towels to hold the shape when they were rising for last time before baking, but this recipe was so excellent, I am going to invest in little bannetons for them.
We have a new LGD puppy, who is not going to be an actual full time LGD, but a farm dog. When Bruno passed, the predators slaughtered all my chickens and ducks in one night, the same week, as they realized he was no longer here. We now have 5 young hens who are just beginning to lay, and two roosters, soon to be just one…and I am not willing to lose them, so Boone, the Anatolian puppy is here. He weighed 43 lb at 12 weeks of age. Fen is 59 lb at 15 mo and is a little overweight.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsPi4NKbmYRTR7OhxrCW-vRjhk5i2k7R79uYoFPHNbaC4PBx_csz3ZqsziuNbRU_bNr-9lgjw7jgSa9ffdUxuCk6eGimRmcctRRSk_CUXrLVfCI6p91kV_nUXZ63b1d59H6ETMg6ucnz21WNrj1vEso8smd0-pQZiE59zs3Q0O2HNJxcocxez1_ZOs4Hw/s4032/IMG_6794.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsPi4NKbmYRTR7OhxrCW-vRjhk5i2k7R79uYoFPHNbaC4PBx_csz3ZqsziuNbRU_bNr-9lgjw7jgSa9ffdUxuCk6eGimRmcctRRSk_CUXrLVfCI6p91kV_nUXZ63b1d59H6ETMg6ucnz21WNrj1vEso8smd0-pQZiE59zs3Q0O2HNJxcocxez1_ZOs4Hw/s320/IMG_6794.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div> Fen is thrilled to have someone to play with and its working out well, as Boone sleeps outside in his big crate, with the door open. Fen gets to go out when he wants, and in when he wants, Boone is allowed in for a little while each day to socialize with us. I will be using him for counter balance because I have fallen 8 times in the past few months for no apparent reason, and have nearly fallen about 2 dozen other times. Whatever is causing it, (one Dr thinks its a crystal in the ear, another thinks it’s my meds ) Fen is able to pick up on it by sniffing behind my left ear. He checks me out daily and if he only does a cursory scan of my ear, I never have a problem, but on the mornings he is fixated on my L ear, at some point that day, my balance fails me.</div><div>It's all a little scary but it is what it is and I will deal with it. </div><div>Meanwhile, Boone has gone from 43 lb to 55 lb in less than a month. He's already bigger than Fen as of today. All I can say is, he grows on ya.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn3Fd6DRvQeH14fx25fG6kh5aWjqpNutNzRLbcNBQjUwwrOSoWv9F-s-7bJJXiKGAFjmWKpzZqEZ0Ne56xVH6sIorD11AsYp3Igs168O33wkU9nHmO9naPLrcuXUSg_lg9IbILx3zneqFF8Npcx9UlLmxP2ZWgGrxqfReCSvNarZuqfEBpbkf6Ef9lzfo/s4032/IMG_7159.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn3Fd6DRvQeH14fx25fG6kh5aWjqpNutNzRLbcNBQjUwwrOSoWv9F-s-7bJJXiKGAFjmWKpzZqEZ0Ne56xVH6sIorD11AsYp3Igs168O33wkU9nHmO9naPLrcuXUSg_lg9IbILx3zneqFF8Npcx9UlLmxP2ZWgGrxqfReCSvNarZuqfEBpbkf6Ef9lzfo/s320/IMG_7159.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div>peteyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04842363901612535790noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6450899713878614950.post-67375370179564436062023-05-09T20:37:00.001-07:002023-05-09T20:37:34.609-07:00LEFT BEHIND<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcyx-NsAwMYOh-BmHWSjW4OYNZAvXO9bQVrI3CLfR5RphCiD-wL_lJxQutucSwyFtsWgjorsaX82vanzxgX95bnkk0Exbv7IQxGeEWKwHzoa5DXf4Ys24B4XmvYhYheaenDUuuBlXWfvQlQ99tGB1bBHa4CnbAXW4nbQupqPn34zcHY54Eqnt_taci/s2048/F7890468-2A0D-4A21-AE4B-1B21CB11E84C.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcyx-NsAwMYOh-BmHWSjW4OYNZAvXO9bQVrI3CLfR5RphCiD-wL_lJxQutucSwyFtsWgjorsaX82vanzxgX95bnkk0Exbv7IQxGeEWKwHzoa5DXf4Ys24B4XmvYhYheaenDUuuBlXWfvQlQ99tGB1bBHa4CnbAXW4nbQupqPn34zcHY54Eqnt_taci/w640-h640/F7890468-2A0D-4A21-AE4B-1B21CB11E84C.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p>The summer of '22 and winter of '23 were one of the worst. Both of our sweet Maremma Livestock Guardians died. First Mr Potamus, then only months later, his brother Bruno. On the heels of these losses, softened only by the fact that they were both elderly at 12, came the loss of Heath who was only 7 years old.</p><p>Since he was 8 weeks old, we have never been separated except when I was in surgery. We spent every living minute together. I had no idea he was sick, when a lump came up on his chest. Fearing it was a foxtail abscessing, I took him to the vet. A biopsy was done and came back as angio sarcoma. A rare and aggressive cancer. Three weeks later he was gone. I have never been so devastated. I would have given everything I have to have gone with him as the loneliness, the isolation, the hardship of not having his help, the loss of a being I loved so deeply and loved me back unconditionally was excruciatingly painful.</p><p>Knowing I could not cope with the isolation here unless I had a dog, at the very least, for company we began looking for a companion. Nothing can ever replace Heathen but I needed something living to spend my days with as I am utterly alone. I only see Randy in the morning while he eats and watches TV, and at night, while he eats and watches TV. The rest of the day I don't hear or see another living thing. Heath's breeder, and the breeder she got his mother from began discussing the situation with Heath. Coincidentally, she had recently repurchased a puppy that had not worked out in its home. He is a very active, highly intelligent, independent puppy. They felt he might make a Service Dog prospect for me so they pitched him and we made the 7 hr drive to pick him up. We enjoyed a too short time with my friend then returned home with Fen. Another oddity. I didn't name either dog. Heath and Fen are both habitats. Fen is a distant cousin of Heath. Fen was a little over 5 mo old.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiEFGOVrQ1cZX4r2amZSpXIsNGFp_-COEFjh8j9szu5ogSZxp-kbcUg_5Wsu1vbi566KUop-ryssOFwpbQBzzawqhysJBGlpzy7iyGTA-il-fi71jZz0d3w9EzEfUIGuhlmFooL0Ybr9el2Dc9yB4QsT7hyQgHwTogiIYW8d2OyYTfPuzf8ZzbT7ct/s719/IMG_2098.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="719" data-original-width="684" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiEFGOVrQ1cZX4r2amZSpXIsNGFp_-COEFjh8j9szu5ogSZxp-kbcUg_5Wsu1vbi566KUop-ryssOFwpbQBzzawqhysJBGlpzy7iyGTA-il-fi71jZz0d3w9EzEfUIGuhlmFooL0Ybr9el2Dc9yB4QsT7hyQgHwTogiIYW8d2OyYTfPuzf8ZzbT7ct/s320/IMG_2098.jpeg" width="304" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fen</td></tr></tbody></table>Fen quickly began finding jobs for himself. He added a new cycle to the dishwasher, instead of prewash we now have a Fen cycle. I began to attempt to clean up the back yard. The water troughs I used as planters were filled with grass and as I would tug it out and shake the dirt off, Fen would grab another and violently shake the dirt off of his as well. I got a 6" chain saw and began cutting back the overgrown badly neglected rosebushes and he chewed on the canes. Anything to be of service, really. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmsU6SK_6fPR-lnCiP7x7XdJXLX4bMk0AcqZ7okhK1imScHZAT4BwRPjDa3qfMQ4FIu3cFVm5jK9vzSkuoCdcGClMkKlOxPZtB8OVTTqkCJ-VvhlwTm2msKLckmB0-hM7SUfEv2QAwdENHGEZ8oosU228iOMDyJiwicCRmnoeL-4O5PXpXpLjPMsPD/s4032/IMG_2350.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmsU6SK_6fPR-lnCiP7x7XdJXLX4bMk0AcqZ7okhK1imScHZAT4BwRPjDa3qfMQ4FIu3cFVm5jK9vzSkuoCdcGClMkKlOxPZtB8OVTTqkCJ-VvhlwTm2msKLckmB0-hM7SUfEv2QAwdENHGEZ8oosU228iOMDyJiwicCRmnoeL-4O5PXpXpLjPMsPD/s320/IMG_2350.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><p>Aside from counter surfing and demand barking he didn't know an awful lot other than what his breeder, an amazing woman and a pillar of this breed, was able to teach him. I began working with him and was surprised at how smart he really is.</p><p>It took no time at all for him to learn to hand me things. It took less time for him to realize if he stole something he knew I didn't want him to have, it was a guaranteed swap of treat for item. I awoke every morning to collect contraband on my lap.</p><p>He has a very sensitive nose. He can find a toy antler with rack wax on it anywhere, inside or out. I used that to teach him to find my phone and kindle by placing small pieces of tissue with a couple drops of EO inside the case.</p><p>He learned the basics of sit, down, stay is barely a concept with him, but TheMan has to have his hip replaced and the ortho wants his teeth worked over first so Fen's first outing was to a dental office. We spent a great deal of time laying on a mat or taking short walks. He actually did pretty well, going from barking at the first two people he saw, to ignoring people coming and going and paying scant attention to two very noisy children in the waiting room. On the way home, we got stuck in Jordan Valley for the night because of a traffic accident blocking the snowy roads.</p><p>The following morning we woke up to this:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkeujgm7p8nAVBXWMt1RkgLFx_ROrxEsbASHuck2nKnz-_6O2mlKDr8mXhcW3BZ31lOztWdFmEEdE-NJcZiV2k_205nnIpDEBM70tAtqRXowUm6p2SJmQdj-zcMG65dGMNK_wHqoqMY7OIFbE_9DJL15ZKbsocxUDZTemS81Eg3KbJ-V1SdUDlWiXe/s4032/IMG_2489.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkeujgm7p8nAVBXWMt1RkgLFx_ROrxEsbASHuck2nKnz-_6O2mlKDr8mXhcW3BZ31lOztWdFmEEdE-NJcZiV2k_205nnIpDEBM70tAtqRXowUm6p2SJmQdj-zcMG65dGMNK_wHqoqMY7OIFbE_9DJL15ZKbsocxUDZTemS81Eg3KbJ-V1SdUDlWiXe/w400-h300/IMG_2489.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Life with Fen has been interesting and a bit demanding. He is rarely quiet. But because of him I am forced into activity. He cheers me up...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGHDvwU9GkGctzXBZ2ghPtc_Atm7vbXIQWS3P8dQvuI0p98ViWsZtQLTpxJw0jxXblK3e4DeLmuKEVTES_df8v_Zvw3gIPAJkzEyfIBZyTP468VsBJ-E4XCH5NZWrNB0YRjqdKp3ZoBJRAf_d9RqToFCxct85veRZoaHtJmrbTzdDRQ-t5QXMhNXis/s3088/IMG_2799.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGHDvwU9GkGctzXBZ2ghPtc_Atm7vbXIQWS3P8dQvuI0p98ViWsZtQLTpxJw0jxXblK3e4DeLmuKEVTES_df8v_Zvw3gIPAJkzEyfIBZyTP468VsBJ-E4XCH5NZWrNB0YRjqdKp3ZoBJRAf_d9RqToFCxct85veRZoaHtJmrbTzdDRQ-t5QXMhNXis/s320/IMG_2799.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div> Has helped me make soap to thank the many friends on FB who helped me survive Heathen's loss and donated to the cause so I could afford to buy Fen...<p></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyqI2dDMBl7qAIWNUnwMnwyJXrbqldahd5iDKH2roWd4vqEpTIH_Gg4aKa8lDKIJErprxXsZ_jOFB5L7d2VHyeuQEfLH8tobCBdyZVE6sGPXG3WZZkFVLZdvE1WBAql40lUobRkNr4Y8BN8trnVhNynCm7ly3dAjU7UQD_IlI1PiUorXRLLfrMcxmB/s4032/IMG_2880.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyqI2dDMBl7qAIWNUnwMnwyJXrbqldahd5iDKH2roWd4vqEpTIH_Gg4aKa8lDKIJErprxXsZ_jOFB5L7d2VHyeuQEfLH8tobCBdyZVE6sGPXG3WZZkFVLZdvE1WBAql40lUobRkNr4Y8BN8trnVhNynCm7ly3dAjU7UQD_IlI1PiUorXRLLfrMcxmB/s320/IMG_2880.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">There HAVE been times we both thought I might strangle him...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpF_aShWrl2qIkJsxyoiazIJ7Mg16y66HyzfXI7SyhX2z6HDAg2Sl9ezInimKugxudYLDZj6b04DTXeS1HHaup7YdfqgnFQgcbrLhIVCdy5etFJmF2YWKLPyryVbq_aGJEIrG0jQVtVNPs9Ze1SSRzJ4LNVNPEYRKZ17LtcAhkonzwFHBo76iZ88Te/s4032/IMG_3063.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpF_aShWrl2qIkJsxyoiazIJ7Mg16y66HyzfXI7SyhX2z6HDAg2Sl9ezInimKugxudYLDZj6b04DTXeS1HHaup7YdfqgnFQgcbrLhIVCdy5etFJmF2YWKLPyryVbq_aGJEIrG0jQVtVNPs9Ze1SSRzJ4LNVNPEYRKZ17LtcAhkonzwFHBo76iZ88Te/s320/IMG_3063.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>He is the stealer of socks, neck pillows, tupperware containers, glasses and chairs...<p></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT_262HNrwhqnIb4x7z_9AczUHnBBtXNwt-YipIFr9yvIyCQwTZlzBskzo1B2FDV8fRfYVDbSVJHaBBuRVoCmbyOysF1Lk9ZPPdotRvbOuDbwA23ylZUTFc-pOreJlkl6in7OmIsCPRoY-r6GxSqRjCKJGYIjILQmUKe8kLTi9A5Cts_FetYDsKnUB/s4032/IMG_3095.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT_262HNrwhqnIb4x7z_9AczUHnBBtXNwt-YipIFr9yvIyCQwTZlzBskzo1B2FDV8fRfYVDbSVJHaBBuRVoCmbyOysF1Lk9ZPPdotRvbOuDbwA23ylZUTFc-pOreJlkl6in7OmIsCPRoY-r6GxSqRjCKJGYIjILQmUKe8kLTi9A5Cts_FetYDsKnUB/w300-h400/IMG_3095.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><p><br /></p>He woke me up enough to finish embroidering my ballcap...<p></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzbN8tROUUNe55rCH9MhMbjDa7kYVYruOQQKbUzolx5TPH1GrVtNqcBd64-6LQnsNlcgdB4BKUbixA-OGeHIkUwWRKJSIt9Ph48lr0rdbM4DTbp3J5--7Rkm6E1WCq1kgNOdYkoFsJNIS4L8YiBFdKu5mwrfs6UNxdt1gydeIpxkySDVnORGt_4ZxZ/s4032/IMG_3178.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzbN8tROUUNe55rCH9MhMbjDa7kYVYruOQQKbUzolx5TPH1GrVtNqcBd64-6LQnsNlcgdB4BKUbixA-OGeHIkUwWRKJSIt9Ph48lr0rdbM4DTbp3J5--7Rkm6E1WCq1kgNOdYkoFsJNIS4L8YiBFdKu5mwrfs6UNxdt1gydeIpxkySDVnORGt_4ZxZ/s320/IMG_3178.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br /></p>and encouraged me to clean the carpets...<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwfsh8fEtoNuNZn4E3SgD14hUwIoX49p6OFvLKOmH1BDOEzVXZ2DwVWvcWr9vZFjZK7a1c5Fma7ShQXWAx81hPKEMYu4iKk2XQzcGJFM-vp3lN3K64bLEln3sGf3LtANI_V-o9bUtQLkFoFdrpjsV26Y4aVjrjg3s87O7qEPFRrBRMrm7ToAJzxEkS/s4032/IMG_3268.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwfsh8fEtoNuNZn4E3SgD14hUwIoX49p6OFvLKOmH1BDOEzVXZ2DwVWvcWr9vZFjZK7a1c5Fma7ShQXWAx81hPKEMYu4iKk2XQzcGJFM-vp3lN3K64bLEln3sGf3LtANI_V-o9bUtQLkFoFdrpjsV26Y4aVjrjg3s87O7qEPFRrBRMrm7ToAJzxEkS/w300-h400/IMG_3268.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We have done some canning,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjknQVDqHjG28ZHBqv1mP1HCTCoY9_OTZWGmfa5p_z6eTJ_nXZjAe5xdJG0U1KfsgInfTggRVrtvrNT1t846z_PLJC-pdEYbJxQ6grXFpTBvzHGOLpGrq8UAe-JXb4GZccrZtw0macABvfUPJRbJZ54UQtVKPZasPEWOWQfgA3gwb1gYvxVwiiG_Rp_/s4032/IMG_3443.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjknQVDqHjG28ZHBqv1mP1HCTCoY9_OTZWGmfa5p_z6eTJ_nXZjAe5xdJG0U1KfsgInfTggRVrtvrNT1t846z_PLJC-pdEYbJxQ6grXFpTBvzHGOLpGrq8UAe-JXb4GZccrZtw0macABvfUPJRbJZ54UQtVKPZasPEWOWQfgA3gwb1gYvxVwiiG_Rp_/s320/IMG_3443.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>and gone to the Dr together, where she was talking with her hands and Fen kept trying to give her a high five...<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXbevbbb1teh8Hk-MxM8LqCsLd2zrFyq33ceYO23iPtcHs_Km92JaY4TeXWu8q8VBWEfygeNWp19SKDX5VZ69Qqc-Ta5ci0M5EIgtGPGlVHuPUAQxJJb_EEB4dvsvc7qlqLo-ChDZfxfSg9-7X1QcNtpiDEnDGtnqVrW_lYviL4eXsTHplX8qdgCIT/s4032/IMG_3638.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXbevbbb1teh8Hk-MxM8LqCsLd2zrFyq33ceYO23iPtcHs_Km92JaY4TeXWu8q8VBWEfygeNWp19SKDX5VZ69Qqc-Ta5ci0M5EIgtGPGlVHuPUAQxJJb_EEB4dvsvc7qlqLo-ChDZfxfSg9-7X1QcNtpiDEnDGtnqVrW_lYviL4eXsTHplX8qdgCIT/s320/IMG_3638.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><p><br /></p>In 6 short weeks, he has learned to take off my socks and hand them to me, to find my phone and kindle, to pick up anything I drop or ask for by pointing, (I dropped both a flat canning lid and a credit card which he quickly picked up without being asked, as I didn't think it possible) to pick up and put his toys away with some help, to let himself out the back door as well as open and close the bathroom door for me when I am in a wheelchair, how to help me get clothes out of the dryer and a few other simple tasks. As I said, he is exceptionally intelligent and he loves to work. I do believe when he matures he will be a stellar Service Dog. <p></p><p>I still grieve Heath, I still cry at night because I miss his presence. Fen isn't Heath, Fen is Fen and I love him for who he is, but there is still a void that cannot be filled.</p><p>It is going to take time.</p><p>I hope to do all the things with Fen this summer that I had planned to do with Heath, starting with riding again.</p><p>Til next time,</p><p><span style="font-family: Dancing Script;">Petey aka Kim&Fen</span></p><p> </p>peteyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04842363901612535790noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6450899713878614950.post-31724698844692230212023-05-05T14:17:00.003-07:002023-05-05T14:17:42.083-07:00Done. Here.<p> Well, I painstakingly wrote a blog that was very difficult and painful for me to write, regarding the sudden loss of my Service Dog, Heath.</p><p>Google saw fit to delete and destroy the entire post, not even leaving me with a draft of it. As the pain in my hands is extreme, it is too great a cost to write again. I am pretty much done here with this.</p><p><br /></p>peteyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04842363901612535790noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6450899713878614950.post-23478064718298671372022-10-13T19:33:00.001-07:002022-10-13T19:33:42.892-07:00THE HAPPY HEATHEN-The puppy days<p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXWnopeGvaKQ_BdWhq3Lko-4FbP8uJmMT0LdA69PeJzHXqLZ_5-B0ZFIPFdLfMIlad21H9bcxQS656t7UzIblS2zq9CaRnMbmKSyjSWK_Mtliy-7X9X03YisCkt2ZCwBtY67IPeeMokyuGutgJwGhy4FTqswqCOfml4GFn0sq5W1srmGC7-3yAMff3/s2048/IMG_0113.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXWnopeGvaKQ_BdWhq3Lko-4FbP8uJmMT0LdA69PeJzHXqLZ_5-B0ZFIPFdLfMIlad21H9bcxQS656t7UzIblS2zq9CaRnMbmKSyjSWK_Mtliy-7X9X03YisCkt2ZCwBtY67IPeeMokyuGutgJwGhy4FTqswqCOfml4GFn0sq5W1srmGC7-3yAMff3/w400-h266/IMG_0113.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> <span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue";">My last post was dark and depressing, and I ask your forgiveness for that.</span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I have finally sat down and pondered my life and realize I need to once again, live in an attitude of gratitude, in spite of my pain or circumstances. God has been patient with me and for that I am grateful. His thoughts are higher than mine and His ways are higher than my ways. He keeps me on a need-to-know-basis as far as the "why" in my life, and apparently I don't need to know.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">So the following posts will center around a critter God sent me, that has made life tolerable and kept me afloat through the dark times. </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">To all of you who recommended an English Shepherd years ago, when I did the post about getting a new dog, I thank you. And to Jennifer Keuhn and Mary Peaslee, I owe you my deepest gratitude.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">When Heath (The Happy Heathen of Shepherd’s Way, named for his sunny disposition) first came home with us at 8 weeks, it was a 7 hour drive. He settled into my arms and never complained. He let us know he was very uncomfortable a few hours into the drive and we pulled over and took him out on his leash. He pee’d immediately. We were impressed. He never cried, not even that night. It was as if he instinctively knew, he was created, just for us.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4FZMrCQNeRE9yCwTLsalQkhFSOUxGvuluoDm1dIMPO4HBn2kKr3tkqx21oNf4pilkYeq_3LXC7SB8Qh9P7ztP4PrJ95Io_ahXMm5qqF6wje0gB2O6qhlHtJ9jFJrwAwXemIiHaKAn5-Dms0cwvfks0nzd6RmQBwiQ5YsEZ-PDxm6dqSYsWGuhWbRT/s2048/IMG_0273.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1530" data-original-width="2048" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4FZMrCQNeRE9yCwTLsalQkhFSOUxGvuluoDm1dIMPO4HBn2kKr3tkqx21oNf4pilkYeq_3LXC7SB8Qh9P7ztP4PrJ95Io_ahXMm5qqF6wje0gB2O6qhlHtJ9jFJrwAwXemIiHaKAn5-Dms0cwvfks0nzd6RmQBwiQ5YsEZ-PDxm6dqSYsWGuhWbRT/s320/IMG_0273.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghwOJj7RBeiv4Ex408truqFkU877Y4BI2MOzF5J-H64S2lFbltUPop9lffbbxXCq3SMBnwPipJDJpEepxUvmQH7rsj9Yu4bV5o48VeuN7gwLUMmuMo20vmumG5NrJOn3dXrPLC2zqqRppf5BjOEGx3WHWoYvxsjmYstbUIfVQCMZo85VYvqB4WUimW/s2048/IMG_0047(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghwOJj7RBeiv4Ex408truqFkU877Y4BI2MOzF5J-H64S2lFbltUPop9lffbbxXCq3SMBnwPipJDJpEepxUvmQH7rsj9Yu4bV5o48VeuN7gwLUMmuMo20vmumG5NrJOn3dXrPLC2zqqRppf5BjOEGx3WHWoYvxsjmYstbUIfVQCMZo85VYvqB4WUimW/s320/IMG_0047(1).jpg" width="180" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I began his training right away, along with basic obedience. Using positive reinforcement and a clicker, after he learned to sit and lay down, I began teaching him to pick up his toys and give them to me. Then drop them. Then put them in his toy basket. Little did I know how helpful this would be to me in the future, as I was looking forward to having him help me with sheep and calves, not to be my service dog. He was and is, a very quick learner with a very biddable attitude. He loves to just be a good boy. At 12 weeks he was putting his toys away in the basket and learning to open and close the back door. </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDxjRiC9M8It3dMQtI-yxPbUlSe8mZ3uf2XpDdNhTTXUs1tFjZIbSiUgQqCyucsP1nZO-jXmiXQGkxCxQZkyJupUfs-z6RRZgPIlfMd4KBzKeZBHOUcBjZewtl8Isfai69aDdIfpXOUsnj2J8BQmQ0HjN-rhMW299kQYUE-NO3o7TbutzIY3hKq14i/s2048/IMG_0076.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDxjRiC9M8It3dMQtI-yxPbUlSe8mZ3uf2XpDdNhTTXUs1tFjZIbSiUgQqCyucsP1nZO-jXmiXQGkxCxQZkyJupUfs-z6RRZgPIlfMd4KBzKeZBHOUcBjZewtl8Isfai69aDdIfpXOUsnj2J8BQmQ0HjN-rhMW299kQYUE-NO3o7TbutzIY3hKq14i/s320/IMG_0076.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwrIDJAR-VJcg2rBJgNGKWW9sPi2zXsndqTTDGpEim_33OFsE_3OR3FfyCgq0fyTgIu1NWormnbZTv2iCgkFg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Of course, during this time, he was also learning more obedience commands, and reinforcing what I had already taught him, never working more than two minutes at a time, but working several times a day. This suited him well, as herding dogs have a lot of drive and energy and need their minds kept busy. I never punished or spoke harshly to him, and he seemed to thrive on that. When he did something wrong, like biting or chewing on things, I would just tell him “you know you can’t do that” in a happy voice, hold him on my lap and let him teeth on the big knot to the shoestring I wore around my neck with the clicker on it.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOo8r2CDOz1AHQY8-n8eyiX28Wphh6tVp-YBJBUdiUsvGb8Ot5SYZ7PARdPz1SbuheKh-PYgJMCTRdkUYsXvi0qfjYvAwALae55u062A-S4aLfmWm0EVNDpsSFrB0t3S7j0PCtneH6deNIxvPD0jnS2G_juvoCj2clNKOQpzR72gZVxO_jhwChTKuu/s2048/IMG_0091.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOo8r2CDOz1AHQY8-n8eyiX28Wphh6tVp-YBJBUdiUsvGb8Ot5SYZ7PARdPz1SbuheKh-PYgJMCTRdkUYsXvi0qfjYvAwALae55u062A-S4aLfmWm0EVNDpsSFrB0t3S7j0PCtneH6deNIxvPD0jnS2G_juvoCj2clNKOQpzR72gZVxO_jhwChTKuu/s320/IMG_0091.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;">The Maremmas would come in to visit and in terror of his little needle sharp teeth, would both hide on top of the ugly pink leather couch together, out of his reach. Once he was able to hop up there, they quit coming in for awhile.</span><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPwdB965GxGZw9ajJcONijIVG4on4onf3qbdT90E-iIJ-f-_T0pp0yew8fmCmVWQ-beldq4VMBjeiZrBvOLknoxyQQMMS6XO94FAe8ovzdjcoww0MZYs8XiNNzloFhDQte7TBwBPvgUBlfH9mvcoNK9yyadoHCtmcGzzV2gYWzOyK0YsOzQNY9U-Gz/s2048/IMG_0085.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPwdB965GxGZw9ajJcONijIVG4on4onf3qbdT90E-iIJ-f-_T0pp0yew8fmCmVWQ-beldq4VMBjeiZrBvOLknoxyQQMMS6XO94FAe8ovzdjcoww0MZYs8XiNNzloFhDQte7TBwBPvgUBlfH9mvcoNK9yyadoHCtmcGzzV2gYWzOyK0YsOzQNY9U-Gz/s320/IMG_0085.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Once, Heath escaped my notice and made it to the back pasture where the sheep were. The Livestock Guardian Dogs, amazing creatures that they are, worked as a team to protect the flock and bring him back where he belonged. Mr Potamus got between Heath and the flock and Bruno sacrificed himself to deal with Heath. He engaged him and redirected him, bringing him back through the gate to me.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghFF-yay6g5baZgohVmS9txBhUkaH1BpadqQKsPFQ-sL_-t8fhTfh8ou5LeTmKCqUPexJWX5o0RqJ2ChUO5L9YyyhF2-McwVGByW2OFguSfjCRnBvBzIhYUXiqMuZC-UCH_O_uSjUP_KTRqODm0H1joVFGrIUwI7wI42Pbe55FpweE6cqVWJp_Z8rR/s2048/IMG_0457.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="342" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghFF-yay6g5baZgohVmS9txBhUkaH1BpadqQKsPFQ-sL_-t8fhTfh8ou5LeTmKCqUPexJWX5o0RqJ2ChUO5L9YyyhF2-McwVGByW2OFguSfjCRnBvBzIhYUXiqMuZC-UCH_O_uSjUP_KTRqODm0H1joVFGrIUwI7wI42Pbe55FpweE6cqVWJp_Z8rR/w513-h342/IMG_0457.jpg" width="513" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We had some meaty chickens that ran loose in the yard during the day. At night we had to round them all up out of the bushes, etc to put them in the shed. It wasn’t long until 3 mo old Heath was walking the chicks into the shed himself, one at a time. He enjoyed doing it and liked going out to check on them and watch them during the day.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">There was one chick that had deformed legs, not unusual for the fast growing Cornish X, but not a big deal as we processed them at 8 weeks. I was surprised one day when Heath opened the back door, walked in and handed the chick to me, unharmed. Then he just sat and looked at me as if to say “fix it”. He brought the chick to me daily until we finally decided to dispatch it.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He was our chief rabbit herder as well, as many of them escaped the shelter we raised them in. He would either hold one down with his front feet, or if it was small enough, gently pick it up and bring it to me. We had a lamb born with a crooked neck that was unable to nurse. I have a disability that was beginning to manifest itself at that time so we kept the lamb diapered in the house so I didn’t have to go outside and find her, so I could bottle feed her. Heath nurtured her and slept with her.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">One day when cleaning house, I heard a strange noise. I looked at Heath who was just laying in his crate. I heard it again. It was definitely not a noise a dog would make. I called him to me and the mystery was solved when he reached back, picked up a young bird he had found and brought it to me. He had carried it in himself and chose take a nap with it. For a herding breed, he is amazingly gentle.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He enjoys other animals, calves, ducks, rabbits, sheep, goats, chickens...</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2lDV22mRAb6RwBmjsrrDJr6kC1us4JOK6NT-O-Denz2V0Ev-r1A9vOSCQf5iNOITDvDZpLdn_m-tHM95R2QrRjb3kqoYvj4CF1RHiuCAOjPeWO1LHLNt0Iqrz-8b_Uc-2-Bw8AlqNWNHZuzPYfAtu6N5OC8nCv1f7SXdQrVl77lJDeT6cxlROrRz3/s2048/IMG_0069.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2lDV22mRAb6RwBmjsrrDJr6kC1us4JOK6NT-O-Denz2V0Ev-r1A9vOSCQf5iNOITDvDZpLdn_m-tHM95R2QrRjb3kqoYvj4CF1RHiuCAOjPeWO1LHLNt0Iqrz-8b_Uc-2-Bw8AlqNWNHZuzPYfAtu6N5OC8nCv1f7SXdQrVl77lJDeT6cxlROrRz3/s320/IMG_0069.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtuQomUg2Dho8CYQczYz5uG_GoLY0QBl1q-zVR_TQIb9FleFxP1BvICIvQ8KNhHzyczVSLduBEuyS4ujrjVHPem339Pi9ubkdWvC0BA0YJgPfxZCCd8j9orUUbOgKx5KVfU7LWo9GpT_eULo5GgfOTr-uN-qcm4A82HWAyZsU_cWfjZ8lLVx_svXkj/s2048/IMG_0311.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>He has, from the very beginning, lived up to his name as a very happy, Happy Heathen!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipsQ5NueCVwFQhzr8zwRjQEas_mVICBCcJnC0gTvABU4dXxvtzAAZYcBM6gq8230QmljAf5JgCVHR-igkJzMHXB32FjvPtSH4BvRY0bJBv2tmJZH2u5dr17gpIeuPKwppYP7i1wxR-3UhhIKOre8qT0Be4yCEO1ZdhTRoISM5gaXtTYNiNj4xgqW7X/s2048/IMG_0096.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipsQ5NueCVwFQhzr8zwRjQEas_mVICBCcJnC0gTvABU4dXxvtzAAZYcBM6gq8230QmljAf5JgCVHR-igkJzMHXB32FjvPtSH4BvRY0bJBv2tmJZH2u5dr17gpIeuPKwppYP7i1wxR-3UhhIKOre8qT0Be4yCEO1ZdhTRoISM5gaXtTYNiNj4xgqW7X/s320/IMG_0096.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj63g3t98Ric27b1YqE6nhZt8T-ABlGdMTsTgIXUMTXFh_cN_se20KhUL-70Fftkloy4Q4UzPVvRnhrWc0i7_SUZNB-E38u0BQwpofi6H2pfzt-PPMdxnTuOQcEPHDY0noYSUZybT4xx-4srvgFXChhZs3pkULAwI2fxS9lr6EyFLIl7BDCv7KPf2f/s2048/IMG_0098(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj63g3t98Ric27b1YqE6nhZt8T-ABlGdMTsTgIXUMTXFh_cN_se20KhUL-70Fftkloy4Q4UzPVvRnhrWc0i7_SUZNB-E38u0BQwpofi6H2pfzt-PPMdxnTuOQcEPHDY0noYSUZybT4xx-4srvgFXChhZs3pkULAwI2fxS9lr6EyFLIl7BDCv7KPf2f/s320/IMG_0098(1).jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvcVaewPIgldmFI2vZoNKHb6VWovc5CghB9E5G1NOa8LMPnnTkKhQFbSo7knJiKLCJbomeFXr15XrlYksQGM5zRBRfd7L90Ufvy9WLbDNguwbB-hJf7e8qlNhiwxe-2f2RpBhwli3x3sExs3umiEj_F-fajlOljmJaL6gQDuiP1tC0MJmKXby5P91n/s2048/IMG_0113%202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvcVaewPIgldmFI2vZoNKHb6VWovc5CghB9E5G1NOa8LMPnnTkKhQFbSo7knJiKLCJbomeFXr15XrlYksQGM5zRBRfd7L90Ufvy9WLbDNguwbB-hJf7e8qlNhiwxe-2f2RpBhwli3x3sExs3umiEj_F-fajlOljmJaL6gQDuiP1tC0MJmKXby5P91n/s320/IMG_0113%202.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Til next time, God bless you!<div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: Dancing Script;">Petey & Heath</span><br /><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p></div>peteyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04842363901612535790noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6450899713878614950.post-39001696169203115002022-08-09T16:03:00.001-07:002022-08-09T16:03:55.067-07:00Feeling the Darkness<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdqMjw_QRY6KpERbRs7nCSydn-SBCYBX9vikIy7aiTICK3qbooos2spsM2TM05n3zK_WWk80fbjX7Bh7I8jF1Cxsfvc6l3-IX4PqqJ1Xf3Nf69cr5yit3U3IkVjt45z6E9EdeVslcspxhSLvmodbbJlMecBkUj9UD9Bai1CMAYPmHUANitM_kux5Vz/s4032/IMG_1414.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdqMjw_QRY6KpERbRs7nCSydn-SBCYBX9vikIy7aiTICK3qbooos2spsM2TM05n3zK_WWk80fbjX7Bh7I8jF1Cxsfvc6l3-IX4PqqJ1Xf3Nf69cr5yit3U3IkVjt45z6E9EdeVslcspxhSLvmodbbJlMecBkUj9UD9Bai1CMAYPmHUANitM_kux5Vz/w640-h480/IMG_1414.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p> <span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px;">It’s been awhile since I posted again. I know. I said I would try to be better, but I also said I have to be happy to blog. Believe me, you don’t want to be anywhere near the inside of my head when depression hits.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">But today I am going to blog anyway.</p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Facebook has totally censored me again and I have NO ONE to talk to or listen to. If you recall we are about 4 hours from the nearest town, I have no friends here or neighbors to speak of, no phone service and now I am completely housebound with chronic pain.</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">I will come clean and share things no one actually knows about me. Or at least some of it.</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">I am an extreme introvert. I have zero self esteem. I am, to my detriment, an empath. I am unable to stand up for myself because it pains me to think about hurting someone else. Words cannot be unsaid. Actions cannot be undone. Sorry’s don’t heal you.</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">I thrived when I was in my element, training horses and kids. But being forced to give up my only real home, which also had my barns, arenas, etc. along with health issues took that away from me. Knowing I will never have a home again hurts a lot. The home I had was my dream home.</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">I don’t make friends easily. I am terrified of people and their rejection. I have lived with rejection from a parent, older siblings, a husband, a son & daughter in law, and a host of other people and that pain lives in me daily.</p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">I have 2 sons. One does love me, the other could care less if I am dead or alive. At least that is my understanding as he hasn’t actually spoken with me in over a decade in spite of my many efforts.</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">My stepdaughters never much liked me and were always pretty demonstrative about it until the past few years where the relationship at least SEEMs to be better, to me..</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">I am lonely as hell with no hope of my circumstances ever changing.</p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Coming to know Christ was a big help to me 22 years ago, but since we moved here in 2007, there is no church, no bible study, no fellowship, for obvious reasons, so even that resource is gone to me. Oh, I pray but I don’t feel much relief from the agonizing loneliness.</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">So, I’ve been feeling pretty hopeless.</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">They are going to destroy the nerves in my lower back, finally, to give me <i>some</i> pain relief. Then we move on to seeing what they can do about my hip. My disease hasn’t given me much of a break. I’ve had both knees replaced and multiple other surgeries and have yet to have a period of time where I can actually make progress in gaining strength and gaining back the ability to do even the simplest of things I used to be able to do, but lost those abilities because of pain and weakness. Pisses me off no end.</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">I foolishly keep hoping because it’s what keeps me alive. That, my two biological granddaughters, their dad, and my honorary daughter/son/3 grands who shower us with love and acceptance. I’m walking a tightrope but they keep me tethered.</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">So, now you know why I don’t blog regularly or when I am not happy!</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Best to you all,</p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Thanks for your time.</p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">May God bless you richly.</p>peteyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04842363901612535790noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6450899713878614950.post-2529667497066339452022-05-11T15:07:00.002-07:002022-05-11T15:07:36.735-07:00LAST JUNE<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLdFYphYTqF7jwBcHV0wGcLZNBL2hTwUAgMzrLOp63hjovebdvuxc5YPBQ3y8FbXVjADM2_b1dt8cIAXa1o-ILnzkS6o7-9WO-JrrEdJzOAToJHQ6mkfS3Ls055Pz34Y3Clbi_1XnIxl3jFLhN0XVZpr6G2OAKc5LDh0Y7vcE1oNBe9bflMwS_kJqR/s4032/IMG_4544.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLdFYphYTqF7jwBcHV0wGcLZNBL2hTwUAgMzrLOp63hjovebdvuxc5YPBQ3y8FbXVjADM2_b1dt8cIAXa1o-ILnzkS6o7-9WO-JrrEdJzOAToJHQ6mkfS3Ls055Pz34Y3Clbi_1XnIxl3jFLhN0XVZpr6G2OAKc5LDh0Y7vcE1oNBe9bflMwS_kJqR/w640-h480/IMG_4544.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue; font-size: medium;">I</span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">’ve been having problems with this site and off and on with my laptop so its been awhile. Over a year, really, and so much has happened. </span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Somehow my page got stuck on html view so when I would work on it, it would post gobbledygook instead of what i was typing. I finally found the right button to fix it today.</span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">I have been stuck in the house, so have taken up new hobbies to keep me sane. Sewing, embroidery, and cross stitch, in addition to some of the other stuff I do, which I haven't been doing much of lately, but hope to soon. I have a stained glass project I've been wanting to start if i can find the right glass.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I had 2 of the grand-girls coming up last June. It was a long drive for them, spending 13 hours in the backseat with Heath. It looks as if it might have been a long trip for him as well </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYCEU4WjqZ3gVvFjka3ANZQ4T31dpzsi6Vld4dPOegdJkYojaltcGOPjjKxSa6fRIuazDcJToYyCSH3iLEBq8Xmbv_l8LBWWIOscKS2OzAyL6qUBtuope7L4sVE3sS_yJm-OUw5p9aSykwyB2cJyJlR7eQbZpAc3BuFBfTeswjFyTLErI5VisNeieH/s3088/IMG_9646.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2320" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYCEU4WjqZ3gVvFjka3ANZQ4T31dpzsi6Vld4dPOegdJkYojaltcGOPjjKxSa6fRIuazDcJToYyCSH3iLEBq8Xmbv_l8LBWWIOscKS2OzAyL6qUBtuope7L4sVE3sS_yJm-OUw5p9aSykwyB2cJyJlR7eQbZpAc3BuFBfTeswjFyTLErI5VisNeieH/s320/IMG_9646.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"> I bought a new sewing machine, which I LOVE. I had given my old one to one of the older granddaughters who has been using it. We decided making the girls’ dad a BBQ apron would be a perfect gift from them. I ordered some denim and taught them how to make the apron and they embroidered it as well. I had spent the first couple of days here teaching them embroidery. Abby was ready to embroider everything and our new towels have very cute mushrooms embroidered on them now, as she was practicing on them.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" dir="rtl" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE7m1ssZ78LI59Y54UIyfN2pmozc1qczTUYa9EgodAk4U20wd6i_jfJ3CyRzZ2nct_Izz8mctSbbGQkoHsKL7m7r2qG45wqs6_lsBNjG65zXhanbFF5-waNlZE8xiLC-QcqDiwXTvyjo3dBYNgpD3pwXTfP63zVvF6rHDRNzgKHKGJmN5yuctWiAvs/s4032/IMG_9649.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE7m1ssZ78LI59Y54UIyfN2pmozc1qczTUYa9EgodAk4U20wd6i_jfJ3CyRzZ2nct_Izz8mctSbbGQkoHsKL7m7r2qG45wqs6_lsBNjG65zXhanbFF5-waNlZE8xiLC-QcqDiwXTvyjo3dBYNgpD3pwXTfP63zVvF6rHDRNzgKHKGJmN5yuctWiAvs/s320/IMG_9649.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>She free hand embroidered a hamburger on his apron. I had them cut it out and taught them how to use the machine and they helped each other sew it up</span><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I would really like to spend more time with them with the sewing machine as there is so much I want to teach them, but its hard when you live in different states and only see each other once or twice a year.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvk3oqGUHLu6BP3phy56vsWc2rd3RA0Y4TeOdqL1VGAz5TMhZVr6MLLGqMXfBzazPSjcmAJT2TJ_IoJ7oRRTBL1iUk-R-qRmRgoVt1fS4ZuR-jVGc5JcogLxeYkGYgUKvVJpdZ_NexzM7oXxLxMlgfOwyjcZYureCOXu1ougu37bdcNUmlmGZkTDzN/s4032/IMG_9666.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvk3oqGUHLu6BP3phy56vsWc2rd3RA0Y4TeOdqL1VGAz5TMhZVr6MLLGqMXfBzazPSjcmAJT2TJ_IoJ7oRRTBL1iUk-R-qRmRgoVt1fS4ZuR-jVGc5JcogLxeYkGYgUKvVJpdZ_NexzM7oXxLxMlgfOwyjcZYureCOXu1ougu37bdcNUmlmGZkTDzN/s320/IMG_9666.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Abs helps Kinley with her stitching<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">During the week, they made sourdough cinnamon rolls and sourdough waffles, by request. It was so much fun cooking with them! We also made a pavlova, which is one of my favorite desserts. It's a huge meringue which is split then filled with whipped cream and berries. We have also filled with with french pastry creme in the past which is oh so good! </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Then we top it with more whipped cream and berries.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbrLUXgZWwZzdeCjpck2-6X-rkkD4mlUR4n7LfUTSE43CAHx1KwqoIC8DGlZ0wMe5JaCH3TeD7nuiQEzaJGbTBa76qTWGcitwfeohulyrEEf-aU7ammHPfsaOP-ceO-eFVDixz86VBWmwreX4GiQ44e-gEAOGczLG6ktMvNVE_p-HuFX5kr8a-q0R-/s4032/IMG_9727.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbrLUXgZWwZzdeCjpck2-6X-rkkD4mlUR4n7LfUTSE43CAHx1KwqoIC8DGlZ0wMe5JaCH3TeD7nuiQEzaJGbTBa76qTWGcitwfeohulyrEEf-aU7ammHPfsaOP-ceO-eFVDixz86VBWmwreX4GiQ44e-gEAOGczLG6ktMvNVE_p-HuFX5kr8a-q0R-/s320/IMG_9727.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">pavlova</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigCJLjirH7VmB2qaVczowfrMEMO0yEpWKv2X-TsL4QXieF5Nyb5gHccVwtkQfYkusRHBh6yIQRKh0U6wzOzUdZbvHtrbjfujOXzr5tkvXpBlIhUpTq-oX80XWiMy-2Gar9hdpjmTpBNdnJUJW2JRp2QCWxbkQ30PezyPu-3end2mvPIINKtAUYDDQA/s4032/IMG_9687.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigCJLjirH7VmB2qaVczowfrMEMO0yEpWKv2X-TsL4QXieF5Nyb5gHccVwtkQfYkusRHBh6yIQRKh0U6wzOzUdZbvHtrbjfujOXzr5tkvXpBlIhUpTq-oX80XWiMy-2Gar9hdpjmTpBNdnJUJW2JRp2QCWxbkQ30PezyPu-3end2mvPIINKtAUYDDQA/s320/IMG_9687.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">TheMan can't help himself from licking the dasher from our homemade ice cream</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span></div><p></p></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHzSPPDarPAv4YUJ8Lj0Dd14Vh83-b1LhtCKjN-om-eT1NVh_v5VFt9LI39dI-yryXzzunk8cEEAlXQp86kE_uD_XVHRXIjKWS4hXRPVncRfOg3JUj3eSvwafL9d0bEQsMBqzoWFmqxt2Nqu0_FqTSSeYiyJ7VRvmf3ml5IBpCr7iHPjCAwqz2Bd5T/s4032/IMG_9654.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHzSPPDarPAv4YUJ8Lj0Dd14Vh83-b1LhtCKjN-om-eT1NVh_v5VFt9LI39dI-yryXzzunk8cEEAlXQp86kE_uD_XVHRXIjKWS4hXRPVncRfOg3JUj3eSvwafL9d0bEQsMBqzoWFmqxt2Nqu0_FqTSSeYiyJ7VRvmf3ml5IBpCr7iHPjCAwqz2Bd5T/s320/IMG_9654.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Best waffles EVER</td></tr></tbody></table></div><p></p></div></blockquote><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">There was a lot of critter feeding and grooming. Mister developed a crush on Kinley so she held him while he had his feet done. She also groomed him several times which I know he appreciated.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhh_J7j9RCvByedv8MbD30PzOlV3fwRJz0rijVLbtk0C1iwbbkDz54y_BOdNC2Wq9DOJPritWl7kpq2dlVAlVDBEMlrTq6wNErRbxB02fNmj--W0r95fTivluEzHPF3lun_O3ISx81bl0f38JtQIvMBvqwW9_WpCHo_atR3Ib1-nobqAFsHAkSqiOp/s4032/IMG_4373.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhh_J7j9RCvByedv8MbD30PzOlV3fwRJz0rijVLbtk0C1iwbbkDz54y_BOdNC2Wq9DOJPritWl7kpq2dlVAlVDBEMlrTq6wNErRbxB02fNmj--W0r95fTivluEzHPF3lun_O3ISx81bl0f38JtQIvMBvqwW9_WpCHo_atR3Ib1-nobqAFsHAkSqiOp/s320/IMG_4373.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNWNSqOWfB3EiVQ8cjpYv96vobGtDuVSKIUVvTM5T6hsst7gJnzuaPDFDjCwg9VtDyk7otRm6quoB0NuX-mnJu-Mrx0vCuQ-K6cCO1pgg3C6SNQsLfkivNN3c1sbpHzHn9RqG2MMNt5thhAZfi0_4709RDThaSGZuNfWjHPaumb2I6Ls8r6E5FyeKJ/s4032/IMG_4437.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNWNSqOWfB3EiVQ8cjpYv96vobGtDuVSKIUVvTM5T6hsst7gJnzuaPDFDjCwg9VtDyk7otRm6quoB0NuX-mnJu-Mrx0vCuQ-K6cCO1pgg3C6SNQsLfkivNN3c1sbpHzHn9RqG2MMNt5thhAZfi0_4709RDThaSGZuNfWjHPaumb2I6Ls8r6E5FyeKJ/s320/IMG_4437.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfHhYCrS81o-AIrbpJts7_XrKialyFGIy868mGajjXxXVQRzbHnmoTWIusVtK_eagHuYAdIbfSjUw0sxi7P4yM_Kn2rtNWzDWs6saTEAQ9rJhKNe8ggIi7yvYOuhUjClE6AbZ4NUx9BWLNHXEZNTAdDP_1FgwXXhBElsc67i2cr3i-LGDZAvDbgZ9Q/s4032/IMG_4460.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfHhYCrS81o-AIrbpJts7_XrKialyFGIy868mGajjXxXVQRzbHnmoTWIusVtK_eagHuYAdIbfSjUw0sxi7P4yM_Kn2rtNWzDWs6saTEAQ9rJhKNe8ggIi7yvYOuhUjClE6AbZ4NUx9BWLNHXEZNTAdDP_1FgwXXhBElsc67i2cr3i-LGDZAvDbgZ9Q/s320/IMG_4460.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8dKVZltr4LKZlGwClv9a-C8xPG9qQbF6WrtUXaPOnBEwYiihSs2E2jhth2G8Wc0X8LKzLdikZX-kaJNpgleN2KBs5CrLCxBX9NQVK-1rH5MKFSr56gGZlvrWUiP_MkdBeo_3QydYHB3jgIeKlEtIPJ4dw4u5xEd5aRCqNY6PWg_zJvfR599Tl_ogW/s4032/IMG_9673.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8dKVZltr4LKZlGwClv9a-C8xPG9qQbF6WrtUXaPOnBEwYiihSs2E2jhth2G8Wc0X8LKzLdikZX-kaJNpgleN2KBs5CrLCxBX9NQVK-1rH5MKFSr56gGZlvrWUiP_MkdBeo_3QydYHB3jgIeKlEtIPJ4dw4u5xEd5aRCqNY6PWg_zJvfR599Tl_ogW/s320/IMG_9673.jpeg" width="240" /></a><br /> <span style="font-size: medium;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBwVuBoRmdXDWjvNI5VtzBkb0bOmjq4VggKgLu3DltEqKhFhcf2ZiyRASevCDe7XcXvrilb0u1Ay86UFoINcTDa2K_8rPjanBAsywNG6v4QSFo4enNDjjoPSwM2kdFI_AqKCCEPxfa_MxQkrBHQvt7Zw4bTF1DWm3upi022f2bvkuucd90WWUlbrxv/s3088/IMG_4539.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBwVuBoRmdXDWjvNI5VtzBkb0bOmjq4VggKgLu3DltEqKhFhcf2ZiyRASevCDe7XcXvrilb0u1Ay86UFoINcTDa2K_8rPjanBAsywNG6v4QSFo4enNDjjoPSwM2kdFI_AqKCCEPxfa_MxQkrBHQvt7Zw4bTF1DWm3upi022f2bvkuucd90WWUlbrxv/s320/IMG_4539.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div>Their Dad made it up, and there was a lot more critter feeding, they went to a branding on the ranch, and lots of quad riding and exploring. </span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5_7JpyATXJ9PdvBFTaxzFXF4d0-V8vDv-WPIAqLq0L_-wMMrkJ5rb5T16_zAClLTsZ1d9F-9NN_QsqYaiocEfN7C4QFg3VTXwrOHIsas5bIii7t8lPXkmDxGtoqsZ1OUE65i7KAw9JyE83ZEXdfabdxv2Axh4awmp3CI6MUN78_T8x0bZ9-SMCLqG/s4032/IMG_9689.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5_7JpyATXJ9PdvBFTaxzFXF4d0-V8vDv-WPIAqLq0L_-wMMrkJ5rb5T16_zAClLTsZ1d9F-9NN_QsqYaiocEfN7C4QFg3VTXwrOHIsas5bIii7t8lPXkmDxGtoqsZ1OUE65i7KAw9JyE83ZEXdfabdxv2Axh4awmp3CI6MUN78_T8x0bZ9-SMCLqG/s320/IMG_9689.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJwrrc88vVtpSm2NGzgByQX1PaH-trA-MIrbrR8Jk7HoZXkR7nczwShWcBHT6FIy5SmANKzlRs-pj69SDcUp4hvFBXJfprJYr6ZUXZ_NuhOOZz7Zgz0z2nHq3HORN8AqspswNbQU8fMqsWuE2Hm9XFXLOeD3hRvrvsLyYA0twYoE1eEwDQTbIbWGCf/s4032/IMG_4508.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJwrrc88vVtpSm2NGzgByQX1PaH-trA-MIrbrR8Jk7HoZXkR7nczwShWcBHT6FIy5SmANKzlRs-pj69SDcUp4hvFBXJfprJYr6ZUXZ_NuhOOZz7Zgz0z2nHq3HORN8AqspswNbQU8fMqsWuE2Hm9XFXLOeD3hRvrvsLyYA0twYoE1eEwDQTbIbWGCf/s320/IMG_4508.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cody and Fred, another story</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /> <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">They played cards and used my tumbled rocks as chips and took home a tumbler. They've been tumbling rocks ever since!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I'm hoping they will be here in the fall, if not sooner as the price of fuel has really screwed us out of visiting anyone. The drive to California and back would really set us back, but there is a deer tag here for Abby and she needs to fill it!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">That's it for now, I still can't adapt to all the changes on the site and can't manipulate where my pics go anymore so I apologize for it seeming to be so long.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Hope you are all well!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Take care!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Dancing Script; font-size: medium;">Petey (Kim)& The Happy Heathen</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><p></p>
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peteyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04842363901612535790noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6450899713878614950.post-36887887711662333302021-04-13T12:17:00.001-07:002021-04-13T12:17:40.867-07:00A Very Happy Heathen<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMzWXmIbbmp8Clm1ylp-cSocFwbOLs5c2ynuaxjiUygOgo0OAJ09g2WMao6i1EO13vtWPxYqqVETXmDoB93RAKqHkbsrbJ7KlCQM3XwP9DpBSJTZAQdeC4109qV1h9CIH90XZv_7IKOco/s640/IMG_7218.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMzWXmIbbmp8Clm1ylp-cSocFwbOLs5c2ynuaxjiUygOgo0OAJ09g2WMao6i1EO13vtWPxYqqVETXmDoB93RAKqHkbsrbJ7KlCQM3XwP9DpBSJTZAQdeC4109qV1h9CIH90XZv_7IKOco/w400-h400/IMG_7218.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">Heath had a very epic day today. TheMan woke me up early to get dressed, so Heath knew right away we were going to go on a road trip. He bounced through the house, picking up his toys and bucking and hopping. He gets terribly excited over little things. I wish I was more like him.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">He had to have his vest put on so he would ride in the back seat, because he really, really likes to sit on my lap, but I really, really don’t like him there when we are on the highway, just in case. There is no way to turn off the air bag and it would be very dangerous for him if it were to go off. He doesn’t believe me and has much more faith in TheMan’s driving than I do, having not been born yet when we’ve been in a few pickles.</p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvyR7B0eCuVgKBL27UcLXfnKwfTyTCjN6hhALNiHjYFdwTf7uD0h9DFJt6SML4EEtSayfwUgSR2-jAuCBU4A6Qrr-EJMfjMjjGayJ4zHwWTYD13GLMFEozEx7Vm4DNd4QVyLDbadtr5Zo/s2048/IMG_8921.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1539" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvyR7B0eCuVgKBL27UcLXfnKwfTyTCjN6hhALNiHjYFdwTf7uD0h9DFJt6SML4EEtSayfwUgSR2-jAuCBU4A6Qrr-EJMfjMjjGayJ4zHwWTYD13GLMFEozEx7Vm4DNd4QVyLDbadtr5Zo/s320/IMG_8921.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">We went to Burns for meds and breakfast. That’s a two hour drive one way. I got a Denver omelette because Heath always enjoyed the ham. He decided yesterday he no longer likes ham. He did enjoy half of the biscuit though, so he was happy enough. We ran a couple more errands, then headed for Nampa, ID where we do most of our shopping. That was an additional 3 hours one way.</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Mostly we stayed in the ‘burb while TheMan ran ranch errands. Then Heath and I made a quick trip to a bush for Heath and a bathroom for me. He peeked under the door and kept an eye on my wheelchair while I used the facilities. He’s very helpful that way. It also tickled him that his doing so tickled a couple of kids that were also in the restroom. Heath adores kids of all kinds. When he sees any of the grands, he actually squeals. </p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">On the way back to the burb, he received several “He’s beautiful’s” and “what a gud boi” 's which of course, made his head swell. I took his vest off and let him just wear his new scarf that identifies him as an SD. He seems to like it much better as his vest shifts and makes him itchy and shake off a lot.</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">He slept under the desk while we had our taxes done then went to his favorite restaurant, Texas Roadhouse where he and I shared a rib steak. (No wonder he likes road trips!) After guilting TheMan out of his croutons and a few bites of <i>his</i> meat as well ( by setting his chin on the seat next to him and giving him sad, hungry eyes ) we headed to Costco which happens to be his favorite store, because lots of strange people give him “gud boi”s. He got an earful of them, and I know that HE knows they are talking about HIM because his tail always wags when they say it, although he looks straight ahead when they do. Sneaky little guy, pretending to be humble.</p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">We were accosted just once, for not wearing a mask. I will refrain from sharing my thoughts on the subject which haven't changed since the beginning of the China virus to this day.</p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">After leaving there, Heath snuffled in my ear to get snackies then he and I napped while TheMan ran a couple more errands for ranch stuff. We then we went to a car wash, for the first time ever, with the ‘burb. Heath was fascinated by the process and handled it so well, we went through twice. We then went to the dollar store and found a hedgehog for Heath. He takes very good care of his toys. He picks one out each time I get off the couch and carries it to the table or to the bedroom, and once a day he gets paid to pick them all up and put them back in his toy basket. It’s usually the highlight of our day. Yeah. That should tell you a lot about our normal day. *snort*.</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Heath had been a gud boi all day, staying in the back seat without his vest, but at one point, we got our lines crossed and he sailed over the seat and up front onto my lap while we were on the highway. I told him to get in the back seat again. Instead of doing so, he turned to face me, put a paw on each side of my neck and burrowed his head in my shoulder. Dang. Not even a kid could work it this well. I ignored him for a few minutes, then again told him I wanted him in the back seat, so he begrudgingly crawled to the back and pouted.</p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Once we got to the ranch road home (which is 35 miles ) He nuzzled and asked permission to come up front. I conceded and he happily snuggled in and we slept together the rest of the trip home…and lived happily ever after.</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh25FwnzCdDetMDVT17i42Y9KHtQUfxmJ-LYV1Mqi_6OpNpwqsJtSgO5ZFMPuEkyuYbBUC9sTy7zUm0HUFfowLsFS2TL2G7Hb9fWdsHimZRyC5QBPdbtH-SDWurqmVYHMn6sn0HE0-94k/s2048/IMG_9112.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh25FwnzCdDetMDVT17i42Y9KHtQUfxmJ-LYV1Mqi_6OpNpwqsJtSgO5ZFMPuEkyuYbBUC9sTy7zUm0HUFfowLsFS2TL2G7Hb9fWdsHimZRyC5QBPdbtH-SDWurqmVYHMn6sn0HE0-94k/s320/IMG_9112.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">contentment</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><br /></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;">God bless all and have a great day, week, month, whatever!</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><br /></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: Dancing Script; font-size: large;">Petey and the Heathen</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><br /></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><br /></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><br /></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><br /></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><br /></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><br /></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Edited out:</p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">We went through the aisles one by one, got stopped by a worker who asked if the people at the entrance had given us masks. I told him they offered and to not be angry with them as I had one.</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">I refuse to wear one, particularly one made in China.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">I did not tell him that, but I had taken mine off for multiple reasons.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">1) It makes me very claustrophobic to have something on, or close to my face</p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">2) It makes it hard for me to breath<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">3) breathing your own co2 isn’t healthy<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">4) it’s untrue that it does anything to prevent spread of a virus<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">5) I’ve had multiple surgeries with 70-80% chances of recovery so a virus with a 99+% chance of recovery doesn’t particularly concern me, even though I am in a high risk category having a suppressed immune system and<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">6) My doctors are in a state that allows the actual CURES unlike Dem states like Nevada and California and others which made it ILLEGAL for Drs to provide HCQ which is part of the regimen which has had a 100% cure for those with early symptoms. I will leave you to ponder why the hell they would do that. Our President told us early in the outbreak about the efficacy of HCQ, when suddenly the MSM and Dem states began vilifying it as a dangerous drug (which many people have taken daily for decades without any issues, including our military) After Jan 20, 2021, that opinion was suddenly and rather quietly reversed. How many died because of the earlier fiction touted daily?</p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">7)I trust God is in control and meant what He said when He told me everyday of my life was already written. </p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;">8) The people in my family who got the virus were mask wearers.</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;">9) </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibJ_rSoa8hfmwKwe0aXI2npkCiWQNXHmuaN8yYDXypfBcONs3Zg17iab4b8W9On97KH6EMxcE3fQ4Nc0MPrPp58198Y5XIpwAXs919b0px31lrXVMX736eZqjxBpyp2gsxmzg2ou4qjcM/s750/IMG_9158.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="565" data-original-width="750" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibJ_rSoa8hfmwKwe0aXI2npkCiWQNXHmuaN8yYDXypfBcONs3Zg17iab4b8W9On97KH6EMxcE3fQ4Nc0MPrPp58198Y5XIpwAXs919b0px31lrXVMX736eZqjxBpyp2gsxmzg2ou4qjcM/s320/IMG_9158.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><br /></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">I digress.</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">I showed the man my mask, and Heath and I rolled on.</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Another lady in a wheelchair rolled up and stopped me to ask what the man said. I told her and she was incensed. She ranted awhile about how they had no right to tell people to wear them, particularly the disabled who often have problems which are exacerbated by them. I looked around at the warehouse full of healthy people wearing them, most likely thinking they were doing us a favor. It made me very sad. What else will they do unquestioningly because someone who is supposed to be a public SERVANT tells them to?</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Again, I digress. Please forgive me. If you have a different opinion than myself, know you are welcome to it. You are free to wear a mask, a nylon stocking, a plastic bag or whatever else over your head that makes you feel safe. We are all free to make our own decisions. I believe those decisions should be based on personal research and common sense but there is nothing that says that's a requirement<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Some of you may be cheering while others may be choking over what I just said. Please, before going further, allow me to mention, I am isolated from all human companionship so my time is spent doing online research searching for answers as well as entertainment. I have NO outlet to vent my ideas or feelings, save here, on MY blog. As a Conservative (horrors to some of you, I’m sure) I don’t demand any of you agree with me, but I also won’t be bullied.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">There. God bless y’all.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Again I digress. I think this might be an issue for me.</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><br /></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><br /></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><br /></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><br /></p>peteyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04842363901612535790noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6450899713878614950.post-28527022148205988942021-04-06T14:28:00.001-07:002021-04-06T18:32:06.392-07:00MEANDERINGS<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiwDULtBGWaMxEizz4JAwsM_kOGUcNXludp4CvUpwC_DB8rqJTYgoY5UdbFag9TFht4oUj4eJZEI4mkj40z3AiKoTQbt1J7mbMVEftsZSCzMaMNZDS0nNf8MQpr_5FHazUgTIUvOcn0zY/s2524/IMG_9078.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1246" data-original-width="2524" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiwDULtBGWaMxEizz4JAwsM_kOGUcNXludp4CvUpwC_DB8rqJTYgoY5UdbFag9TFht4oUj4eJZEI4mkj40z3AiKoTQbt1J7mbMVEftsZSCzMaMNZDS0nNf8MQpr_5FHazUgTIUvOcn0zY/w640-h317/IMG_9078.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br />
<p class="p1">It’s Easter. I watched a segment of Watter’s World and it was so disturbing, I have no words. The people he talked to had no idea what Easter was about, or anything about Jesus himself. We are living in a post Christian era. That’s not a scary thing for Christians, it’s a horrifying thing for those who aren’t. He will come for us, whether we believe in Him and accept His sacrifice or not. It just made me very sad. I know the difference He made in my own life, after living 46 years without Him. And this life is not the big deal. It’s the next one that lasts forever that matters most. My greatest wish is that my children and grandchildren follow Him, and my friends as well. I pray for them. That’s the best I can do. I complain about many things but I know I have more than I deserve, only by His grace.</p>
<p class="p2">I’ve much to be grateful for, not the least of which is my young granddaughter didn’t step on this beast yesterday when she was squirrel hunting.</p><p class="p1"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNUnOL4WMzs9woqZ4vf-qr5Hh3Fy9-kovXZaVYF5zfS_QcobEtKVvUXaPTaQHO3uyXEH8t87m3IVxir-7dOiPan6jolSaVDQWdH7dr2sLV41rUxGSfcj5joHCONFpUJR6wnbQhDuFT4cg/s4032/IMG_2298.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNUnOL4WMzs9woqZ4vf-qr5Hh3Fy9-kovXZaVYF5zfS_QcobEtKVvUXaPTaQHO3uyXEH8t87m3IVxir-7dOiPan6jolSaVDQWdH7dr2sLV41rUxGSfcj5joHCONFpUJR6wnbQhDuFT4cg/w400-h300/IMG_2298.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p>
<p class="p2"><br /></p>
<p class="p1">TheMan vacuumed the house for me which is a HUGE deal as I can’t usually do it and the big dogs don’t just bring in big chunks of hair and mud, but leaves, large pieces of sticker bushes, tumbleweeds etc. and it remains on the carpets. It’s frustrating because they really don’t belong in the house, they belong outside with the stock, but since we have no stock, TheMan lets them inside. The Heathen sheds something awful on his own, so running the vacuum was a real blessing. I dusted what I was able while he did so, and worked on cleaning the kitchen and getting dinner for tonite made. That part took me most of the day but was easy.</p>
<p class="p2"><br /></p>
<p class="p1">We’re having a leg of lamb which is super simple to make. <i>I make about 7 slits and put a clove of garlic in each. I rub a little mix of salt, pepper, thyme and garlic powder. Mixed with oil on the outside, then put it on a rack in a pan, in the oven at 375 to sear the meat.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></i><i>After 15 min, turn the. Heat down to 350, pour in a 1/2 cup of water in the bottom of pan, cover it and bake for 25 min per pound. The drippings I use to make gravy.</i></p>
<p class="p2">I got applesauce made this morning in the Instapot. It was the first time I made it that way, but it won’t be the last. <i>I just peeled 6<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Granny Smith’s with my much loved apple/potato peeler, tossed them in the pan with 3/4 c water and tsp of cinnamon, 3/4 Tbl of lemon juice, turned it on for 8 min. Did a pressure release and Tah dah!! Applesauce!</i></p>
<p class="p2"><i>Lastly</i> we made loaded cauliflower which is our new favorite. We do Keto on and off and this was our favorite recipe.<i></i></p>
<p class="p4"><br /></p>
<p class="p3">I got this awesome new tumbler. The first on we got, the motor burned out and it costs almost as much to replace it as to buy a new one. A wonderful friend gifted me a nice used Lortone which is one of the most popular you can buy, but it takes a month to do 3# of stones which isn’t many. We saved up and got this monster that I am absolutely in love with! He’s made in America, (as is Lortone) and is heavy duty and well put together. The best part? He holds 5x as many stones as the other one. It still takes a month but it makes me feel so happy to know a big batch of rocks is getting done. This thing is not going to break down like the cheap one we got at Harbor Freight that was most likely made in China. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN1IoH95UxoSCSiT56AMmDPQplF-27Tw1ijoGV_1W_ugS883Acr2FsCy8_1y80LrGAQhyNWSL_4MbFYO5XftvTAfmV8a24Pago9nnBojIBVa6NTfOCqAvBHlTz6IgmHlV9Rxcoc6ru06w/s2048/IMG_9118.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN1IoH95UxoSCSiT56AMmDPQplF-27Tw1ijoGV_1W_ugS883Acr2FsCy8_1y80LrGAQhyNWSL_4MbFYO5XftvTAfmV8a24Pago9nnBojIBVa6NTfOCqAvBHlTz6IgmHlV9Rxcoc6ru06w/s320/IMG_9118.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I had a very large Creeping Charley that hadn't been doing well. It was dropping a lot of leaves this year and the leaves were getting smaller and were not glossy. I decided to repot him so had TheMan carefully take him down and we painstakingly worked him out of the macrame hanger. He definitely needed a larger pot with better drainage so I put him in one and watered him in good to take care of any air pockets. We left him on the porch to drain while we both rested our sore backs and i found a pot saucer. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When I got back out to get him, I found the Maremmas had been doing cat imitations and had knocked him off the porch.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Here's the before </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjStEW_ph6_dRc84VdtBf8NpDbztF1fD2Wi4pj2_6Y5AmEHxbTMkm6Y2WUF2xz3_qS0raa4_c02SMjOacT8BFcYyF8i_YhypGjJSc73UlWzPn2KV49ndTN3sMeiR5dngTiaCscw6cWBNWg/s2048/IMG_9125+2.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1316" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjStEW_ph6_dRc84VdtBf8NpDbztF1fD2Wi4pj2_6Y5AmEHxbTMkm6Y2WUF2xz3_qS0raa4_c02SMjOacT8BFcYyF8i_YhypGjJSc73UlWzPn2KV49ndTN3sMeiR5dngTiaCscw6cWBNWg/w258-h400/IMG_9125+2.jpeg" width="258" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">and after pics...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRTZVtz9eKG_SGdCdX_me4vTp83r5TbxR-D-lFVelTtZiGSNcNYWIu2kTI9oiSgvEVpNyNiStXRvWlVMCPUvhkAdNfS8IBmUST3VkVTBTiVfJztiu4qBV3_CQFvJ2a-8iXPRRuQ2Sh_ME/s2048/IMG_5256.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRTZVtz9eKG_SGdCdX_me4vTp83r5TbxR-D-lFVelTtZiGSNcNYWIu2kTI9oiSgvEVpNyNiStXRvWlVMCPUvhkAdNfS8IBmUST3VkVTBTiVfJztiu4qBV3_CQFvJ2a-8iXPRRuQ2Sh_ME/s320/IMG_5256.JPG" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">pitiful, I know. But if he doesn't grow back thriving, I will start another from cuttings as the plants keep outgrowing their spots and I have to keep pruning them...and being a waste not person I don't have the heart to throw out the cuttings so I keep starting more plants...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Now it's Tuesday. Monday was a wash because weather and exertion resulted in a ton of pain, so I never moved all day. Just laid here and moaned like a sick cow.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Today is better so I took Heath for another cruise with the wheelchair and we found </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A GEODE!!</div></div></blockquote><p style="text-align: left;">Right there on the ranch road heading to the corrals. Never know what you might run across out here. Sadly the picture doesn't do it justice at all. You can't see all the sparkly inside. But its there, and it made me happy to find it.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjScEXO-q0rM3FnVI87SliZxvFRHP84awaocW121xKXaCiQhWq_2-Z1UUPqIpijurKsGhVCT4uAg4ACEke2znfIgRDP8IkBlvfyV7KpaSHq2qlEUdUObV7mdb-ekVDgxrm6ogZCKoY1YKs/s2048/IMG_3523.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjScEXO-q0rM3FnVI87SliZxvFRHP84awaocW121xKXaCiQhWq_2-Z1UUPqIpijurKsGhVCT4uAg4ACEke2znfIgRDP8IkBlvfyV7KpaSHq2qlEUdUObV7mdb-ekVDgxrm6ogZCKoY1YKs/s320/IMG_3523.JPG" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheb8tHucXnnfAcEehNl4I89riHTT-KBgMTfMexE8ukjFyIMa14mgML9bPdMWiDugzKCpkcuBp2bMIm2SaoH2GRzVNmpjlz6ZNaaslZCApW_my0eXmLC-DRaKeO6HyKH1GeA-jU2TlKk-c/s2048/IMG_9977.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheb8tHucXnnfAcEehNl4I89riHTT-KBgMTfMexE8ukjFyIMa14mgML9bPdMWiDugzKCpkcuBp2bMIm2SaoH2GRzVNmpjlz6ZNaaslZCApW_my0eXmLC-DRaKeO6HyKH1GeA-jU2TlKk-c/s320/IMG_9977.JPG" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: left;">Hope y'all have a great week/month or whatever until I get back to you!</p><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Dancing Script;">Petey & the Heathen</span> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p class="p3"><br /></p><p></p>peteyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04842363901612535790noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6450899713878614950.post-84992741605224249062021-03-29T14:25:00.000-07:002021-03-29T14:25:15.393-07:00We're Back!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT0J30T_vRyaiCLHL2-Qj2lHRjIgCV7_ANv8cgm1TCLig6kvH90AnB5kGfPU97nja_iReL_ORnUI_LUNCmrcYA6K0vyV2zFMWoGHIlpI4zPiTig-Z2dx8A7ievuiuZORIUj_ExaXi__zU/s2048/IMG_1059.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT0J30T_vRyaiCLHL2-Qj2lHRjIgCV7_ANv8cgm1TCLig6kvH90AnB5kGfPU97nja_iReL_ORnUI_LUNCmrcYA6K0vyV2zFMWoGHIlpI4zPiTig-Z2dx8A7ievuiuZORIUj_ExaXi__zU/w300-h400/IMG_1059.HEIC" width="300" /></a></div><p><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px;">I had promised to do a blog on sourdough a very long time ago. My bad. Life got in the way.</span></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">As most of you know, it has been a struggle.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">I don't like to write unless I am in a good mood which I haven't been much until recently. </p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Plus, I found it nice to write stuff on FB because I had a more intimate relationship with followers there and much more interaction.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">But now I have been banned for life because *gasp* I am Conservative. So here I am. Back, like a bad cold...or do we have those anymore?</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Though I have hit some mighty low lows, I keep fighting and here I am.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">I’ve been pretty much confined to a wheelchair past 2 years due to pain. It has made it all the harder because it has completely confined me to the inside of this small, not very pleasant, house. But we did buy a new wheelchair I was hoping would allow me to travel around a bit outside.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">It arrived late in the day so once TheMan got it in working order, Heath and I took a little test drive in the dark. It got us up past the barn so I was pretty excited to see what it could do.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">That was all it took for Heath to figure it all out and the next morning he was so excited when I got dressed, as he just KNEW we were going outside!! He kept jumping on and off my lap while TheMan was trying to help me get a brace on my ankle.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;">Then he spent the rest of the morning parked in front of the wheelchair, begging.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Dubbed “Traveller” the new chair managed to get us down the dirt road toward the corrals. Heath was thrilled as we had to go slowly enough for him to sniff to his heart’s content.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p>We went past the ranch dump and the haystacks, and up and down a large hill. Heath got pretty hot and tired so we headed back. He rode with me on my lap, which I taught him to do when we cross hot pavement or salted sidewalks, to protect his feet as he really is unhappy wearing his boots. After he caught his breath and we ran into a couple of deer hunters who promised to bring us the legs, hearts and livers of anything they harvested. The dogs love them. I followed Heath while he sniffed and ran. his way back to the house.<p></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia8ZtrNuAecY-bm_S2-qXocVo2tlIsB6tNMeH_EYomHtG2az_QLnp6h7V8sTEqZ3JXrpKW5witLI1Ov5GbOLhmWFHm-HkfnZzDEAtmKEGk9fe-bDbMG8ogc_C4Ha5brVsnTAeukcOjuqI/s2048/IMG_6526.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia8ZtrNuAecY-bm_S2-qXocVo2tlIsB6tNMeH_EYomHtG2az_QLnp6h7V8sTEqZ3JXrpKW5witLI1Ov5GbOLhmWFHm-HkfnZzDEAtmKEGk9fe-bDbMG8ogc_C4Ha5brVsnTAeukcOjuqI/w640-h478/IMG_6526.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">He was very worn out.</p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO9iuuivGqeBv0rauMK24yJiXlHfSA7XGqyVCtV6W_7k3h_c7Vc_vZRPJxj6RuTKUKYQknBTahqoX3LZ_HuDD-RDe6KSfogI6Fp1IkXDjRvR5RuxG1NDlBZIZiNFsygxtiuAyRdLj7kZo/s2048/IMG_8358.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO9iuuivGqeBv0rauMK24yJiXlHfSA7XGqyVCtV6W_7k3h_c7Vc_vZRPJxj6RuTKUKYQknBTahqoX3LZ_HuDD-RDe6KSfogI6Fp1IkXDjRvR5RuxG1NDlBZIZiNFsygxtiuAyRdLj7kZo/w300-h400/IMG_8358.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Winter set in so there were no more trips outside. We went to see family for Christmas. It was great and did a lot for my outlook. Then we drove home in the BlueRoo, which I loved the 6 months that I was in the city but a Forester is not the best choice for living on a ranch, 50 miles down gravel road. In one year, the windshield had to be replaced twice because of rocks thrown by someone who passed us, and I had countless flat tires because I couldn't buy anything heavy enough to survive the conditions on a car that size. Heath had to be strapped in the back seat because the road noise on the gravel unsettled him and he was always trying to climb up in my lap, which doesn't work well in bucket seats as well as the bench seat of the truck. </p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">On the trip home, we had 13 hours of heavy winds and snow without a break. I was such a wreck by the time we got home I swore I would never take that car to California again. A week later we traded it for a 2007 Suburban and I couldn't be happier. Heath even loves it and stays in his back seat. He helps navigate from there. </p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm61oUx1WJHXfhnExDxrtDRnaGtBLO80juvxyly2hiWVWZmIOXZPF_iXoaWXoG-TEhWQw27Xgjwq-QoOO1zYEbE30LFxOwMiHBbMBLEaIQ0csnHIkMbAeMk7eKZN0eeNUa3RXPkzrkb6g/s2048/IMG_8290.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm61oUx1WJHXfhnExDxrtDRnaGtBLO80juvxyly2hiWVWZmIOXZPF_iXoaWXoG-TEhWQw27Xgjwq-QoOO1zYEbE30LFxOwMiHBbMBLEaIQ0csnHIkMbAeMk7eKZN0eeNUa3RXPkzrkb6g/w300-h400/IMG_8290.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL1xIAO76NHpMMSdIhVzroqWbAubwWIjyA7MHAGLmRX0eTRH2C27QR7_lsmoakRMwmwkv_q076orLSid2zEWDbbu5YD1G9ssvxgU0PVzFWAyevqnLo0ht-sbMyOjTneAp4h1QSd7bgoDI/s2048/IMG_8183.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL1xIAO76NHpMMSdIhVzroqWbAubwWIjyA7MHAGLmRX0eTRH2C27QR7_lsmoakRMwmwkv_q076orLSid2zEWDbbu5YD1G9ssvxgU0PVzFWAyevqnLo0ht-sbMyOjTneAp4h1QSd7bgoDI/w200-h200/IMG_8183.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibyCdZYOCeLbYqz9P91cleheNicyhzT2JtXwtErY1dnIz6uLLc95aGo0LFvI5QaB3Q4RJ7GLR5zj3A6Pfghmts7M1DztyBt7gea4J9hWurm6EQJc4cHOM8V1HR7mwpKeUH0lk1XK_6g4I/s2048/IMG_8181.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibyCdZYOCeLbYqz9P91cleheNicyhzT2JtXwtErY1dnIz6uLLc95aGo0LFvI5QaB3Q4RJ7GLR5zj3A6Pfghmts7M1DztyBt7gea4J9hWurm6EQJc4cHOM8V1HR7mwpKeUH0lk1XK_6g4I/w200-h200/IMG_8181.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div><br />Hopefully, before my next blog, I'll be able to work out why there is a horse and a cow growing in the backyard that I am certain I did not plant there.<div><br /></div><div>Until then, God bless you!</div><div><br /></div><div>WWG1WGA</div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: Dancing Script;">Petey and the Heathen</span><br /><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoWVyun35ee3kzsZSlYUgPe5kuw9GTsK6fWZOVw63kdAyD5h84Tz1OJT67jHNUFnmEPcCmAr7pRRCHsL0A8II4HNClbzUqVn3v7jN5S8QaGi_KQqHHUja-oXh2F1RHXEEtw8WMqJyB-nU/s2048/IMG_6674.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;"><br /></span></a><br /></div></div></div></div><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p>
</p></div>peteyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04842363901612535790noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6450899713878614950.post-66830064671451531332020-04-19T13:23:00.002-07:002021-04-01T10:33:11.505-07:00Rolling in Dough<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj061czWBjiiMzfsPgPbgBDRIS9K7Ie7tP6Y5EkYdmg4rRB5nZus6ILpI2ybM2a8sLhEgxEYZqOpIrEM1l_1Uk54RyCM474ocsS_6pHDvGU7T_eRLUPRpU6_nftdafyo1F1htQadDFOPsg/s1600/IMG_3434.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1468" data-original-width="1600" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj061czWBjiiMzfsPgPbgBDRIS9K7Ie7tP6Y5EkYdmg4rRB5nZus6ILpI2ybM2a8sLhEgxEYZqOpIrEM1l_1Uk54RyCM474ocsS_6pHDvGU7T_eRLUPRpU6_nftdafyo1F1htQadDFOPsg/s200/IMG_3434.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqi10oJ0Nebepsy3GUgN39mNFXxV4c5kTelTP847b2Z5uHDEmYKI9WAMS8AMOBfw0euLlF12ULPXpd7rUW06PErBJa6gdw7UlEIYU5prYiqx9kpgJSCbtn44FbBHlg0VbRi-_JGckvubI/s1600/IMG_3438.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1155" data-original-width="1298" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqi10oJ0Nebepsy3GUgN39mNFXxV4c5kTelTP847b2Z5uHDEmYKI9WAMS8AMOBfw0euLlF12ULPXpd7rUW06PErBJa6gdw7UlEIYU5prYiqx9kpgJSCbtn44FbBHlg0VbRi-_JGckvubI/s200/IMG_3438.jpg" width="200" /></a>As a follow up to prior blog, the rock tumbling was successful. A few of the rocks I gathered here at the ranch proved worthy, and many of my granddaughter's rocks, mostly quartz, from the ranch her Daddy works on were very pretty. Unfortunately the pictures don't do them justice and a few of them could have stood to be tumbled longer to get all the scratches off of them, but it was a great learning experience and I hope to do better. Meanwhile, I learned how to drill holes in the smaller ones to use them up.<br />
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As everyone has been home bound lately, I assume many are getting to the point they might decide this is the time to be a tad more self sufficient. Having lived 4 hours from town for the past 13 years, I’ve got that nailed down pretty well.<br />
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So today, we will talk about making bread.<br />
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There are so many choices and recipes to choose from, all equally delicious.<br />
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Let’s start with a basic white bread.<br />
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There are different kinds of flour. All purpose flour is fine, but bread flour is nice for loaves as it has a bit more gluten and rises better, making for a lighter loaf. If you have a grain mill, you can also make your own flour out of various things, wheat, almond, rice, etc. I prefer wheat. I usually buy #25-#50 of wheat berries at a time. I have soft white, (for cakes, pastry, etc) hard white (for white bread) and hard red (for stronger flavored wheat breads, great in waffles) on hand. However, if you are milling your own flour you are probably already an expert and don't need to read this blog. So lets stick with all purpose, bread flour, or commercial wheat flour which is nothing like the flour that is ground at home as both the hull and the wheat germ have been removed, along with much of their nutrition.<br />
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Yeast comes in different forms as well. You can buy it in packets, jars or bricks. It can be kept indefinitely in a freezer and for a good long time in the fridge. You will find Active Dry, Instant Dry and Rapid Rise Yeast. I use the Active dry as I buy it in big bricks so I always proof it. The only difference is that Active Dry requires activation by proofing in warm water while Instant Dry does not. The Rapid Rise is usually used in bread machines, which I don't really care for myself.<br />
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Keep your yeast tightly sealed. Mine is kept in a little crock with a rubber seal.<br />
Yeast is a living organism. Baker's yeast began to be made and used
in 1857 or so, making leavening bread faster and more reliable, but at
some cost to both the. nutrition and flavor of the bread itself. But, I digress. We are talking first about bread made with
commercial yeast, so... <br />
let’s assume your yeast is good.<br />
<br />
Most bread recipes have sugar or honey in them. Primarily, sugar is food for the yeast and speeds up the yeast breaking down the starch in the flour. Honey does the same but also adds a nice flavor to wheat bread.<br />
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Salt regulates the yeast activity, helping the yeast to ferment more evenly. It also assists in shelf life and gives the dough body as well as enhancing flavor.<br />
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Oil/Lard/Crisco also helps keep the bread from drying out and going stale as quickly as it would without.<br />
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You will need something to cook your bread in. Bread pans are the most popular, but different recipes can be cooked in a dutch oven, in baguette pan or even free form. Some require a brotform which is a type of basket the bread rises in then is quickly dumped onto parchment paper on a hot stone. <br />
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You will need a serrated bread knife or slicer. I use both.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJhXShGDmCioZtwocMKrmjmkTSX73FI-XcBnO2C_L758f6ltf-ISTavwb0utKIZCTuXublr7EEq2vQj75Dy-5iSTUFZ2Bdq36NT-22dBuCDbxH6PKWcDDnezkrAJ_8Skj6Bw5FYNFOk4g/s1600/IMG_3518.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJhXShGDmCioZtwocMKrmjmkTSX73FI-XcBnO2C_L758f6ltf-ISTavwb0utKIZCTuXublr7EEq2vQj75Dy-5iSTUFZ2Bdq36NT-22dBuCDbxH6PKWcDDnezkrAJ_8Skj6Bw5FYNFOk4g/s320/IMG_3518.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div>
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The first two recipes will only need a pair of bread pans as they make 2 loaves.<br />
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The first thing I do, is to “proof my yeast” in a bit of warm water. You don't want the water too hot or it will kill the yeast. If the recipe uses milk and egg, like most white bread and other recipes, you will use less water to proof the yeast and usually scald the milk on the stove before adding the fat, sugar and salt to it. Let those cool before adding to the proofed yeast.<br />
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It will look sort of poofy-ish on the top of the water if it is still good.<br />
If it doesn’t, you need fresher yeast. <br />
<br />
Yeast is a living organism. Baker's yeast began to be made and used in 1857 or so, making leavening bread faster and more reliable, but at some cost to both the. nutrition and flavor of the bread itself. We are talking first about bread made with commercial yeast, so... <br />
let’s assume your yeast is good.<br />
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Add your salt and about 2-3 cups of your flour to start making your dough. I use a stand mixer, but used to do it all by hand.<br />
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I have both a KitchenAid and a Bosch Mixer. The KA can make 2 loaves nicely, but my Bosch makes 4 and is easier both to use and to clean up. Trust me, if you are looking to purchase a mixer, go for the Bosch. It can do SO much more! It also has an 850 watt motor as opposed to KA's 250watt. I made bread for decades without a mixer, so it's not a deal breaker. But with RA and PsA, my hands can no longer do the work without great cost. I can make 4 loaves at a time in the Bosch, then I slice, wrap and freeze it and have a month's worth of homemade bread done in an afternoon, for pennies.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmoKIszr8TmiGJoS0fSjdR5erWRk-UPA4RCkl6MOsSpkTRoxbaTtO-mgFVub0VTKI7qYMtOX47jikXyqdOaKmQLS9lLv71Q41fe-9PkF3uxUPIVnHQF6MuRukCNtczgl5dCxh8JFxd6uI/s1600/IMG_3519.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmoKIszr8TmiGJoS0fSjdR5erWRk-UPA4RCkl6MOsSpkTRoxbaTtO-mgFVub0VTKI7qYMtOX47jikXyqdOaKmQLS9lLv71Q41fe-9PkF3uxUPIVnHQF6MuRukCNtczgl5dCxh8JFxd6uI/s320/IMG_3519.HEIC" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Bosch isn't pretty but its worth its weight in gold</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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By hand, use a large bowl and mix with a wooden spoon. Slowly add the rest of the flour until the dough is rather stiff and not too sticky. <br />
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If using a mixer, do the same on low power using the dough hook and after adding all but the last cup of the remainder of the flour, 1/2 cup at a time, start adding the last cup of flour a couple of TBL at a time until the dough pulls away from the sides of the bowl. Too much flour will make the bread heavy. Too little and it will be too sticky to work with. The weather can affect your bread making, so that's why I recommend adding the flour in this way. It may take a little more or a little less than the recipe calls for. I made many brick loaves in the beginning before I figured this out.<br />
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Once the dough is not too sticky (a little bit sticky is good) flour your hands and dump it on a lightly floured surface and begin kneading. The more you knead the bread, the less sticky it will be. Flour your hands rather than adding flour to the dough as the latter will make for a dry, heavy bread.<br />
Using the heels of your hands push down on the dough, fold it over on itself, turn it 1/4 turn and repeat over, and over until it “pushes back”. Kneading not only mixes the ingredients well, but develops the gluten which allows the dough to become elastic and rise without the strands breaking. Without the gluten strands developed, your bread will be hard and flat. You cannot over develop it kneading by hand, but you can by machine, so be careful not to overmix once the dough pulls away from the sides of your mixer bowl. I like to dump it out like when I hand knead and see if the dough is, indeed springing back to my hand. The kneading is a crucial step of breadmaking. If the gluten strands are not developed enough, your bread won't be very good.<br />
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Once the dough is elastic and springy, silky (it will feel both smooth an HAPPY) grease a bowl, dump it in, turning it once, and cover, setting it in a warm place to rise. I like to use a cotton cloth, like an old fashioned diaper, that has been soaked in warm water and well squeezed out, to cover my bread. You can also put a bowl of hot water in your oven and set the dough inside to rise. When yeast acts on flour, it converts natural grain sugars and starches
into carbon dioxide, which creates air pockets that make the dough rise.<br />
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Let it rise til double. You can push a finger into the dough and if it leaves an indent it's ready to dump it out again on your pastry cloth or floured counter top. Punch down, cover and let rest for about 10 minutes.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimh2dE6M9wU8ZVKch4C6FYzWEF4-chfaTK08fYD9x_FR36VOsiOChOhY0rqEISSWbF1fM-F64iYPKT6uzwmR8CY-9N84oDCpdb9qKjqAYOT_-b2mdfSoAiX4A-nc0UuSh3Mg6tDznc7-Q/s1600/IMG_3504.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimh2dE6M9wU8ZVKch4C6FYzWEF4-chfaTK08fYD9x_FR36VOsiOChOhY0rqEISSWbF1fM-F64iYPKT6uzwmR8CY-9N84oDCpdb9qKjqAYOT_-b2mdfSoAiX4A-nc0UuSh3Mg6tDznc7-Q/s320/IMG_3504.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">finger print after second rise</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I then fold it all up and cut it down the middle with a dough scraper.<br />
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Using my hands, I flatten out the dough into a rectangle, making sure there are no big gas pockets. I then roll it up, pinching the bottom together and folding the ends and pinching under before setting in well greased pan to be covered and rise again until double. Using the finger print method again, I check to see if it’s ready.<br />
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Then into the oven it goes.<br />
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so let's condense this...<br />
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WHITE BREAD<br />
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Ingredients:<br />
<br />
2 1/4 tsp or 1 package yeast<br />
1/4 cup warm water<br />
2 cups milk, scalded<br />
2 Tbl sugar<br />
2 tsp salt<br />
1 Tbl fat (butter, crisco or lard)<br />
5 3/4 to 6 1/4 cups flour<br />
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Directions:<br />
<br />
Proof yeast in water in large bowl or mixer bowl<br />
Combine hot milk, sugar, fat, and salt, cool to lukewarm<br />
Stir in 2 cups of flour, beat well, then add to yeast mixture<br />
Add flour to make moderately stiff dough.<br />
On lightly floured surface, knead until smooth and springy, 8-10 minutes<br />
Set in greased bowl, turning once, cover and let rise (about 1 hr)<br />
Punch dough down, dump out on counter and cover. Let rest 10 minutes.<br />
Divide dough in half, press down into rectangle with hands, popping any<br />
gas bubbles.<br />
Roll into loaf, pinching bottom together and tucking ends underneath.<br />
Put in greased loaf pans, cover and let rise second time (about 40 min)<br />
Bake @400 for 35 min. Loaf should sound hollow when tapped.<br />
Take loaf out of pan on rack or wooden cutting board. Immediately<br />
rub a cube of butter over tops of loaves and let cool before cutting.<br />
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RANDY'S FAVORITE HONEY WHEAT BREAD<br />
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Ingredients:<br />
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3 cups WW flour<br />
3 cups Bread flour<br />
2 cups warm water<br />
1 cup buttermilk<br />
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next day:<br />
4 1/2 tsp yeast<br />
1/4-1/2 cup warm water<br />
1/3 cup honey<br />
1/4 cup butter (or oil, lard)<br />
1 TBL salt<br />
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Directions:<br />
Mix flours and liquids and let soak overnight or up to 24 hours<br />
Next day proof yeast in water, add remaining ingredients, then mix with flour mix<br />
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As with White Bread recipe above, knead, rise, shape into loaves rise, bake 45 min @ 375<br />
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Let me know how it goes. The Honey Wheat bread recipe uses what is known as a "levain" which is a bit like a sourdough starter as it captures wild yeast out of the air, adding to both the rising and flavor of the bread.<br />
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Let me know what you think, and how it goes!! And any of you experts, if you have something to add or a super special commercial yeast recipe, please chirp in, to help out my readers who are here trying to learn a new skill!<br />
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Next blog will be no-knead bread and sourdough.<br />
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Happy baking, from our range to yours!<br />
<br />
Me & Heath<br />
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<li class="step" style="box-sizing: border-box; float: left; font-size: 1.125rem; line-height: 26px; margin: 0px 0px 0.5rem 1.35rem; outline: none; padding-bottom: 1rem; position: relative; width: 607.594px;"> </li>
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peteyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04842363901612535790noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6450899713878614950.post-82557552973681693202020-04-19T09:12:00.001-07:002021-04-01T10:38:37.705-07:00Flights of Fancy<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg6NLj4RZU7R6DnHcLRja1CUPUWk0Sg1NfA3TUouMLt4_0dn1ww7oIGyWh5Z9i0dwJ9NPfQpzCZMexA3gU6hdRm6wpGv4i0UjI0Kmirnr-fyGWBVRtH9zKO3NJp4XY2D4wkGD3Ig0ILnw/s454/Screen+Shot+2021-04-01+at+10.36.09+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="376" data-original-width="454" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg6NLj4RZU7R6DnHcLRja1CUPUWk0Sg1NfA3TUouMLt4_0dn1ww7oIGyWh5Z9i0dwJ9NPfQpzCZMexA3gU6hdRm6wpGv4i0UjI0Kmirnr-fyGWBVRtH9zKO3NJp4XY2D4wkGD3Ig0ILnw/w320-h266/Screen+Shot+2021-04-01+at+10.36.09+AM.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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Yesterday a young relative on FB posted about almost being asleep when suddenly remembering the Tooth Fairy was supposed to visit. It reminded me of our own debacle many years ago.<br />
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I had put in a 14 hour day at the barn, cleaning stalls, working colts, teaching and foaling out a mare. It was just one of those days, and as always, followed by fixing dinner and doing dishes for the family. I had a couple of glasses of wine and fell fast asleep.<br />
<br />
My oldest son woke me in the morning, distraught because his tooth remained under his pillow. Still groggy, I did my best to assure him that while rare, it was not an unheard of occurrence and he need only leave the tooth under his pillow and surely all would be made right.<br />
<br />
Low and behold, that very afternoon, he got home from school and came running out of his room with an envelope in one hand and a note in the other. With incredulity he told me “There was a UNICORN!! IN. THIS. HOUSE!!!!” <br />
<br />
The envelope had tiny little unicorn hoof prints and the note, written in very tiny script, explained that while heading to our house in the wee hours of the morning, a gust of wind blew the dollar out of her hand and underneath the troll’s bridge. It required the services of the mouse king and his army to get the dollar back. The skirmish took such a long time that the sun was high and it was very dangerous for her to travel. A unicorn kindly offered to fly her to his room, as the crows out back were surely planning to do her physical harm.<br />
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He was so excited and happy. Things had turned out so much better than if she had simply slipped in like usual and traded his tooth for a little money…or so I thought.<br />
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The following day I got a call from the Principal’s office. Apparently Matt had gotten in a fist fight in class with another student.<br />
Unbeknownst to me, he had taken the note for show and tell, excited to share this knowledge and experience with the rest of the kids. (a trait he was known for. He once lugged a mare's afterbirth to school in a feed bucket) One of the kids challenged Matt and said there was no Tooth Fairy. To which he replied “Yes there is, isn’t there Mr ________?” His teacher hemmed and hawed and the fight began.<br />
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Remember well, the old saying, “oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive”<br />
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One more reason I hate public education. Stupid peers.<br />
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A bread blog will be forthcoming.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><br /><br />
peteyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04842363901612535790noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6450899713878614950.post-45652658922109430202020-03-14T11:54:00.002-07:002020-03-17T07:40:57.764-07:00Rockin' and Rollin'<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As things would have it, yet another interest has invaded my feeble ADHD brain. My jewelry making, lends itself to an interest in gemstones, which lends itself to an interest in rocks in general. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The next thing I know, I am the proud owner of :</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />1) a rock tumbler </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">2) various grits to go through the 4 phases</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">3)a flex drill </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">4) a set of diamond tipped bits</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">5) a tile saw (which we already owned)<br /><br />Not really a big investment at all. Far less than the tools for making jewelry, not to mention purchasing all the beads, findings, etc.<br />...all because my husband showed up one day with an interesting looking greenish rock he found on the road.<br /><br />A family emergency had us heading back to California, with prayers on our lips and terror in our hearts. Both of those are still in residence. We stayed at my younger son’s, even though for the most part, he was not home, as he can typically be gone for days while working. He is a hunting guide on an enormous historical land grant ranch (The Tejon). So we stayed in his immaculately clean and organized, employee-housing abode upstairs (really long steep ones, IMO), filled with his treasures and houseplants. He has both an amazing green thumb and an artistic eye. He cooks. He's witty. In fact, now that I think about it, he's a helluva catch. If any of you happen to be a sweet, kind, beautiful lady who enjoys the outdoors and wants to meet a really good man, he's the One. No vegans or activists need inquire. Seriously, he is one of the last really good guys. I am completely objective in this.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Also, if he reads this, he is probably completely mortified right about now. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Sorry, Bear. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> While taking Heath out for a potty break, we discovered the rocks on his road looked much different than the ones from our road in Oregon.<br /><br />When the day came to make the 13 hour trek back to the Oregon ranch, which we have always driven straight through, only stopping for fuel, and Carl’s Jr in Bishop, we left at 5 am, made it to Tehachapi to meet up with half of our friend’s family for breakfast, so we weren’t the least bit hungry when we hit Bishop…well, not speaking for Heath of course, who was really looking forward to the stop, where he always enjoys a “puppy patty”. <br /><br />With a rapturous expression, full of hope, he stuck his head between the seats as we approached his beloved fast food diner. His face dropped as we passed the driveway, and fell further as he saw it disappearing behind us. Poor sheppie.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...but...wait!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The morning’s cup of tea forced us to the side of the road, shortly after passing a wild donkey herd in Nevada, which I failed to get pictures of because TheMan was driving at 80 mph and they were on his side. I tried though. I really did. But mostly it was a shot of TheMan’s ear hair so I opted out. While off the road, I found a few glorious rocks in a ditch. I began to feel that tingle of excitement one gets, when a really cool, and intriguing new hobby starts worming it’s way into your heart.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /><br />Bypassing Carl’s also had the effect of being ravenous by the time we hit Hawthorne. I found a small pizza place there on Maps, so we stopped. It was WELL worth the wait. What a shame that a great place like Old Nevada Pizza is sequestered away from the world in tiny Hawthorne. We decided to drive on a wee bit and pull off on Walker Lake to eat.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />We were unavoidably delayed for over an hour, collecting the bitchenest rocks I have collected so far. I even pulled my shoes and socks off, to step into the lake and seek treasures there. If you’ve ever been to Nevada, you would understand that it is full of all sizes of sharp rocks...right on into the lake. Two steps in, I was trapped. The pain radiating from my soles to my brain was foreign to me, as I spent the majority of my life barefooted, even riding barefoot, unless spurs were required. I have been known to jump over a wall and land on broken glass without injury, because my feet were so tough. Living on the ranch for over a decade, where what isn’t sharp rocks, is goat-heads, I developed the bad habit of only going barefoot in the house. My feet are no longer the feet I used to know. TheMan was forced to rescue me by helping me limp painfully from shard to shard and spike to spike until I could lay down and let him use my socks to wipe the "not-quite-sand-sized" rocks off of my feet and then put my boots back on over them, while I laid on my back with my feet in the air, so he didn’t have to bend over. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">(He was already stiff from driving. Getting old sucks and don’t let anyone tell you differently) </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After this little activity, he had to help me sit up, roll to a hip and pull me to my feet, which I didn’t do very quietly. I am pretty sure the young couple strolling the water’s edge didn’t mean to snort so loudly, and I didn’t let it offend me. I no longer have any pride.<br /><br />The rest of the drive home was uneventful, as Heath enjoyed some jerky we stopped and got for him and I alternated snoring with imagining what my rocks might look like after we experiment with the tumbler, should Fed Ex ever decide to deliver it to us.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Meantime, stop by the store and see what's new! Like these. I love these!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/RanchRusticSoaps?ref=si_shop&fbclid=IwAR3agGmrkP50yt-zRNPGOG1C99c0lOklCc2YGogKFmwtxY8Sk0hgkLLMFzY" target="_blank">Etsy Shop</a> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /><br />That is about all I have to report.<br />As an aside, I want to mention, please don’t panic about this pandemic. Humanity has survived far worse and although we must be vigilant, don’t give up living in fear of dying.<br /><br />Til next time!<br /><br />Me & The Heathen</span></span></div>
peteyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04842363901612535790noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6450899713878614950.post-17528457110240060232020-01-29T13:34:00.001-08:002020-01-29T13:36:29.364-08:00 #GoodBoyHeath !!!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I’ve been keeping busy trying to get jewelry made for the store and soap and stuff to fill orders. Heath is used to me either being strong enough to go out and do stuff or debilitated enough to remain on the couch for a week at a time, while he remains on constant watch and has my undivided attention. This is something quite new to him and he’s just not sure he likes it much at all.<br />
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While I sequester myself in my little work corner, he goes out and patrols the back yard, making sure the cats and raccoons stay out of it. I appreciate it more than you might imagine as I am deathly allergic to cats and until I got Heath, I couldn’t even sit outside as they got dander all over my outdoor furniture where they constantly slept. They also sat in the windowsills and it would blow in the house. But he does his job well and there’s been no more wheezing or itchy eyes.<br />
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I hear the back door slam, which means he just came inside. He sighs audibly and settles into one of his sleeping areas (he has several. The N end of the couch, the papasan chair, and the giant dog bed that the Maremmas don’t like.<br />
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I continue at my task until he says something. Heath doesn’t bark much, but he does vocalize a LOT. In his talky voice, he complains and lets me know he isn’t happy. He gets up and takes it out on the giant exercise ball and sends it smashing into me. Then he roots his nose into my leg a couple of times until he is satisfied has my attention. Then he smiles. Yes, he really does smile. I take a break and spend some time with him. I can count on him to keep my priorities straight.<br />
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Last night Heath was running through the house, collecting all his toys and putting them in the toy basket. He thought he was done and looked at me for confirmation. There was still a disc behind him. I asked him to back up, which he did, still looking at me. Then I thought for a minute, checked my hands and turned to the side, then told him to look left. He immediately did, and saw the disc. He picked it right up and put it away. TheMan was laughing at me, because it took me so long to figure out which was right and which was left. Heath had no such problem. Sometimes it’s tough having a dog smarter than me.<br />
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I've got Lemongrass, This Suds' for You (beer soap), Honeysuckle and HoneyMoo soaps currently curing, waiting to go in the store. A few jewelry pieces are done and this week I plan to work on some new jewelry techniques as well as some liquid soaps. <br />
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Lemongrass colored with turmeric which has anti-inflammatory properties.<br />
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Beer soap with cocoa butter is a super good cleaning soap, that also conditions your skin.<br />
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The Honeysuckle has added turmeric and paprika.<br />
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Heath continues to aid and entertain me each day, with his antics. He daily brings me his empty bowl to let me know he is likely to starve if I don't give him a snackie... and has also brought me his bowl FULL of dogfood that he didn't particularly like!<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdjuIw4ORkJsH7QscCWWD5h-MSYIvMln_2BGsOEw4o81sH8M3ZsWEeBGbGqDco0YpXi4mL_bG7jJS0u1eal7BjziPb9FAqs8CmYa8bmsti-h8zhwJnX8RWTo0aIWIxEXmtvBAgadD__4A/s1600/IMG_2573.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdjuIw4ORkJsH7QscCWWD5h-MSYIvMln_2BGsOEw4o81sH8M3ZsWEeBGbGqDco0YpXi4mL_bG7jJS0u1eal7BjziPb9FAqs8CmYa8bmsti-h8zhwJnX8RWTo0aIWIxEXmtvBAgadD__4A/s320/IMG_2573.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"halp me..."</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgMU-l0GpimLOQSLD1ZoTsRwrcsPiBglhdJaiCgxZuA96SscAUeUVv5Mq1mQxThLFRafPK-QhRdmF1wVNrF0h8WyZfMSZZcPfPsZUUzoovPIEOcBhckMpgzjEXOcBtwvvf3wUv35CUyew/s1600/IMG_2576.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgMU-l0GpimLOQSLD1ZoTsRwrcsPiBglhdJaiCgxZuA96SscAUeUVv5Mq1mQxThLFRafPK-QhRdmF1wVNrF0h8WyZfMSZZcPfPsZUUzoovPIEOcBhckMpgzjEXOcBtwvvf3wUv35CUyew/s320/IMG_2576.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"dis stuff is yuk"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiabZSsUjBE3ESbQ9lJk1ej7S15JLHJi90jMVxpljkvSMO1wgFZre3YgQd5fIJwC3sg_dmUPqOJSIlXLJIJn4QEHxlF1d2t6oONQuwHJolOh1FKs26KXja5kjWb4yEq8vIoLieetaX2Ef0/s1600/IMG_2578.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiabZSsUjBE3ESbQ9lJk1ej7S15JLHJi90jMVxpljkvSMO1wgFZre3YgQd5fIJwC3sg_dmUPqOJSIlXLJIJn4QEHxlF1d2t6oONQuwHJolOh1FKs26KXja5kjWb4yEq8vIoLieetaX2Ef0/s320/IMG_2578.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Need snackie plez"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Here's hoping you all have a good February. It's leap year, so there's no excuse not to get everything done, cuz we get an extra day :)<br />
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'Til next time,<br />
<br />
Me N Heath</div>
peteyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04842363901612535790noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6450899713878614950.post-72723493834120446002020-01-13T10:53:00.001-08:002020-01-13T10:54:56.116-08:00A Gem of an Idea<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It’s been awhile. That’s because I don’t blog unless I am in a pretty good mood and have good things to share. That was the case frequently when I was riding, had my milk cow and sheep, and was getting out and about each day, living life to the fullest. Multiple autoimmune conditions and a state of constant pain has made that a much more rare set of circumstances, but here I am!<br />
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As people in my predicament always do, I am making adjustments. Things are constantly changing and my health is fluid. One day I am able to go out and ride, the next may be in a wheelchair. But I am picking up new ways to busy my mind and do something with my life. I want most to share things of value with my grandchildren, so any skills I can give them, I do.<br />
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I was unable to do any gardening the past couple of years as it was just too much and too painful, so I turned to houseplants.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAAiQL8hEnx-gOQgb1t5lFBGA8wn5TenYjmowouCtDKj6EyKSFsYqblgH-f5qJ39C1PsPvRG-Nwlacmd207R2liVIpjyWY2Ya0STihRKeI9MPRT8DcUvq_f8H-uyDATaK_XLZC5G3-HAc/s1600/IMG_3373.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAAiQL8hEnx-gOQgb1t5lFBGA8wn5TenYjmowouCtDKj6EyKSFsYqblgH-f5qJ39C1PsPvRG-Nwlacmd207R2liVIpjyWY2Ya0STihRKeI9MPRT8DcUvq_f8H-uyDATaK_XLZC5G3-HAc/s200/IMG_3373.jpeg" width="150" /></a> They make me happy and I can root cuttings to make new plants to gift friends. That led to my needing a plant hanger, so I bought some jute and with a u-tube session and a book, I refreshed my skills and put them together. I was in California in August and two of my granddaughters were there. The boredom monster raised its head so I decided to teach her a couple of macrame knots to make herself some bracelets. She was quickly addicted to it and I left her with plenty of string and some letter beads. Next thing I knew, she was telling me how much money she had made selling friendship “faith” bracelets and plant hangers.<br />
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Living so far away from family and seeing them as seldom as I do, makes birthdays and Christmas difficult as I never know what they have, what they like, what they want. She was having so much fun with the bracelets I decided to teach myself to make some jewelry so I could teach her, and get her the tools for Christmas as it seemed like a great hobby for a girl about to launch into her teen years and one that would last a lifetime if she enjoyed it. It’s a pastime that she can continue to learn and gain more sophisticated skills as she matures, so I dove in. It wasn't long until I found myself really enjoying it, and thrilled that there are so many techniques that can be learned. I've been making some wire wrap jewelry and look forward to doing some wire weaving, as well as learning to work with seed beads. It has completely taken me by surprise, as I never wore much jewelry myself. Working in a barn all my life didn't lend itself to fashion, but like so much in my life, except for riding, I turned out to really like doing it. I always knew I loved riding and training, but cooking, baking, gardening, raising sheep, milking cows, making soap, etc. were all things I started doing with no idea how much fun it would be.<br />
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I posted a few pics on my FB page and folks started asking if I was going to sell, so I have re opened the <a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/RanchRusticSoaps?ref=ss_profile" target="_blank">Etsy shop</a> and will be selling handmade jewelry along with soaps. It's taking some times to get inventory made, but at least it keeps me off the...couch!<br />
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I think 2020 is going to be a much better year, and I plan to be around here more, so hope to hear from you all!<br />
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Love,<br />
Petey & The Happy Heathen<br />
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peteyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04842363901612535790noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6450899713878614950.post-68301307360638260972019-05-11T10:01:00.002-07:002019-05-11T10:01:56.678-07:00May-be May be not<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Now it’s May. It’s warmed up, which I am grateful for. The apricot tree has bloomed and the peach tree is blooming now. Best peaches I have ever had in my life came off of this tree.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRieodRWiuSoLazAPW0IN5TiPgzpa-arxsIstr33bFYcd9fxUvTl8wbPdp5bNxDGraFHwggVmN8RG-gurtt74UKs8Yt5NA6SkQKoCCu6ekz24elODHTeELCdsOXww8BdJa3H1SCIq0EwI/s1600/IMG_3457.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRieodRWiuSoLazAPW0IN5TiPgzpa-arxsIstr33bFYcd9fxUvTl8wbPdp5bNxDGraFHwggVmN8RG-gurtt74UKs8Yt5NA6SkQKoCCu6ekz24elODHTeELCdsOXww8BdJa3H1SCIq0EwI/s400/IMG_3457.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div>
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Pig can't come in the house because he isn't house broke and he's mean to me and the dogs. Pig can't be lose in the yard, because he's mean to the dogs and they bloodied each other, so pig was locked in the shed alone. I felt bad for him because I know they are social animals and he's lonely and isolated like me, so my heart really went out to him. I finally talked TheMan into making him a little yard of his own.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuO5lIdj754YqNgIJqdITX2HSi21UaT9Q_eIMWACj3CLW0NWFkckKFN0ZixUSysaUzIRBUSrT4kG5Ns5QtQ6MqSVOqhNDeJeE7LT1trX-enpqvxa5-3dFJf5OWO1Nj3PuNf-SAyl6gMCc/s1600/IMG_3411.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuO5lIdj754YqNgIJqdITX2HSi21UaT9Q_eIMWACj3CLW0NWFkckKFN0ZixUSysaUzIRBUSrT4kG5Ns5QtQ6MqSVOqhNDeJeE7LT1trX-enpqvxa5-3dFJf5OWO1Nj3PuNf-SAyl6gMCc/s320/IMG_3411.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...with a ball and a wallow</td></tr>
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So now he has his own little yard ....<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiPNoRb6l0_JUtLhnLLDSac5LnYq0weVQkQggyKVUIY6AOZzGuwUjnHhFJKXcKXqeBW_Ydi7NoShC_txUoyoxMi4A1Uv86j08EzLiMe07VFKGHXuIYHmka0rlIZdhtuY_h8KCG_OnG-bM/s1600/IMG_3409.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiPNoRb6l0_JUtLhnLLDSac5LnYq0weVQkQggyKVUIY6AOZzGuwUjnHhFJKXcKXqeBW_Ydi7NoShC_txUoyoxMi4A1Uv86j08EzLiMe07VFKGHXuIYHmka0rlIZdhtuY_h8KCG_OnG-bM/s400/IMG_3409.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and some pig legos.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPqEPCKbTNiKWTOlhn9xL81jdGENuJVatGgo5aHAxZYRbSzhgNVfdLNV67gZxZajvNcti46wPFHkcfPRWQ9nrBL2gJsuLys2Yi8-w7b9LdLpjTaZc_wsx0mn4MmzSyMrj248nmjZAO82k/s1600/IMG_3446.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1325" data-original-width="1600" height="330" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPqEPCKbTNiKWTOlhn9xL81jdGENuJVatGgo5aHAxZYRbSzhgNVfdLNV67gZxZajvNcti46wPFHkcfPRWQ9nrBL2gJsuLys2Yi8-w7b9LdLpjTaZc_wsx0mn4MmzSyMrj248nmjZAO82k/s400/IMG_3446.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I think pig is happy now</td></tr>
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Heath and I drove to California the end of last month to watch one of my granddaughters get baptized. It was a happy day. I watched another play softball and totally enjoyed it. I miss those little league and gymnastics days of my kid’s childhoods.<br />
We went to visit Heath's bestie, his sheepherding trainer and Heath got to play. He had such a good time he wore himself out and fell asleep standing up in the car. <br />
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We put two small lambs in a kennel in the back of the Blue Roo and brought them home to raise. They currently live in the empty chicken pen with a tunnel to the over grown garden next to Pig’s play yard.<br />
There is plenty there to graze off for now. I'll figure something else out for later. The Maremmas are certainly glad to see them<br />
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Before my trip down to Calif. TheMan helped me get a ton of stuff out of my old milkroom/tackroom. Huge hornet nests had to come down, garbage that was inexplicably stored in there thrown out, my large cow stanchion and the broken freezers, etc. It’s not finished but at least my tack is in there now. I still need to fix something to hang up all my bits, hang the bridle racks and put a couple of panels up inside so Mister can access the shade and shelter of it without getting into my stuff, and a couple of panels outside so we can eliminate the gate which I cannot open or close, which keeps him trapped in the small corral and separated from the shelter. That way he will have plenty of room to fart around in, but will also have the option to go inside out of the sun or the weather if he wants to, and I can access him. As it is right now, I can't even get him to the tack room because the gate between them is so heavy.<br />
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Yesterday TheMan agreed to saddle him for me, as I have become extremely weak again. Just brushing him down, getting his boots on and applying fly protection completely wore me out. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get my spurs on, but I did. I got him into the round pen, as he is one 25 year old gelding that actually needs to be worked down as he is too fresh to just get on and ride. He played for a good long while, bucking, bolting, farting and doing rollbacks, until he decided he was done and I climbed up on my mounting block and got onboard.<br />
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Heath had a fabulous time, although he ran ahead to every spot of shade he could find. His tongue looked a bit like a shovel, but as we were only going to walk aways, I didn’t worry too much. We only went as far as the first closed gate, which is all I can do anyway. It was about a mile plus down the road. Just the perfect distance for both Mister and Heath to learn to conserve their energy in the future.<br />
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My phone is broken so I couldn’t take any pictures of our ride, but it was beautiful, with the butterflies flitting around the tall green grass backed by the dark blue snowcapped Steens mountain. There is just something about being horseback that renews me.The connection to my mount, the awareness of his every movement, what interests him, his own satisfaction of being out in the world as well as the feeling of oneness it gives me. It passively works all my muscles and is the most effective and enjoyable way to rehabilitate me from the ravages of this disease. I can feel it in my back and shoulders and just barely in my legs. The more I ride, the stronger I will become. It will also help me deal with some of my balance issues and leaves me with the same uplifting “runner’s high” other athletes enjoy. I spent my entire life on horseback until we moved here and disease and injuries took their toll. I haven’t completely given up yet. The sun was shining and it reminded me to wear a hat and sunglasses next time, which I hope is very soon.<br />
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I have a wisdom tooth and another tooth requiring some surgery on my mouth (thanks to autoimmune and medications) so I might be laid up for a bit recovering. My short term goal is being able to lift my saddles again, like I was just beginning to be able to do after pushing so hard for 5 months in California last year. My long term goal is to gain enough leg strength to be able to mount and dismount again from the ground so I won’t be limited in where I go, by gates around the ranch. Meanwhile, Heath will finally be getting the exercise he has always needed as a young dog.<br />
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Bruno was a little stiff so I put him on turmeric which seems to help quite a lot. While I was gone, TheMan said he got real bad and he was out ofthe mix I make for him. When I got home he could hardly walk so I quickly made some more, but he wasn't any better the next day. Then I noticed a large red spot on his inner thigh he was licking so I figured he had a hot spot. I sprayed it as best I could but couldn't see much. Then it swelled up REALLY bad and he had an angry red patch the size of a dinner plate, without hair all of a sudden. I got an e collar on him and sprayed the area again. I went to touch it and it was very painful. Next morning, the swelling was down and he was much improved and it's looking more and more like he had been snake bit. He is recovering nicely from it now, whatever it was and Mr Potamus hasn't had any seizures since I put him on CBD so I am hoping that its what is making the difference as the seizures he had were both violent and becoming frequent.<br />
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So now I'll be waiting to heal from my dental work so Heath and I can go riding again. Til then, have a good May!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKxT-crHvk4bFl3eRDWhEZvdKWInCqUQAnAq04IvewxcBE7NEHaHCD0RaYQchi3NKW3ksryMi2JjdfyHy8l11V8cZvBmF0wrW8hUDzTTuDuR5cMyE8-4IjtN3ZqrEabnOCbX3UN8Ak72g/s1600/IMG_3480.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1359" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKxT-crHvk4bFl3eRDWhEZvdKWInCqUQAnAq04IvewxcBE7NEHaHCD0RaYQchi3NKW3ksryMi2JjdfyHy8l11V8cZvBmF0wrW8hUDzTTuDuR5cMyE8-4IjtN3ZqrEabnOCbX3UN8Ak72g/s400/IMG_3480.jpeg" width="338" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">bedhead</td></tr>
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peteyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04842363901612535790noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6450899713878614950.post-18289259816665600232018-11-01T17:42:00.002-07:002019-04-13T15:53:28.396-07:00There's No Place Like Home, addendum<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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So, here we are, back in my favorite town. The Heathen and I are living with friends who are taking good care of us and pouring God's love out on us. We couldn't be more blessed. It looks like it might be awhile before we have our own quarters so we are enjoying a room in their home, with what stuff I figured we can't live without, spread all around us...at least what isn't in the Blu Roo.<br />
Speaking of which...<br />
<br />
Well. Let me start at the beginning.<br />
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I informed my doctors in Idaho that we were moving to California. They provided me with an extra month of prescriptions, to give me time to get established with new doctors where we would be living. When I went to fill my pain prescription (which is the most important as I am completely unable to function without pain relief) I was informed that California won't honor the prescription from out of state. I had one days worth of pain control left. My pharmacy in Oregon was kind enough to make several calls, and the closest place I could get my prescription filled, was 7 hours away in Reno, Nevada. So I had Roo's oil changed as I knew the trip was going to put us beyond the mileage it had to be done and I didn't want to void his warranty. I had that done, hosed him off, filled him with fuel and we were off early the next morning. We didn't make it in time for the Reno pharmacy to contact the prescribing physician so we were promised they would fill it "first thing in the morning".<br />
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TheMan met us at my brother's in Reno (a 5 hour drive for him). Heath was shocked and totally unable to contain himself upon seeing him when the door opened. He was so excited and had absolutely not expected such a fantastic surprise. We went out and had dinner and he went with us to the pharmacy the next morning. Thank goodness. It took phone call after phone call to every conceivable person and place to get it done, and finally, I got my 1/2 my meds at 12:30. I guess "first thing in the morning' means something different than what I always thought it meant. The other half of the meds, I just gave up on. I was pretty much a wreck and unable to make the 7 hour drive home so I went back to my brother's for another night. I was in a considerable amount of pain as I cannot lay down and had already spent one night sitting up on a hard couch trying to sleep. I finally discovered a small chair he had that did recline a bit, so night #2 wasn't considered comfy, but was a huge improvement.<br />
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We left early in the morning, expecting to make it home by 3 in the afternoon. After several hours we were a few miles N of Bishop on 395. I looked in the mirror and saw what looked like smoke. I checked my dash, but no lights were on so I figured maybe it was exhaust or something. A couple of miles later, the oil light came on. I panicked, thankfully we had just reached a turnoff to a rest stop so I took it.<br />
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There was a van full of guys that looked to just be getting ready to leave. Roo had started sounding really bad the last few yards before I stopped and turned him off. I asked if any of the guys knew anything about cars and dialed TheMan. I didn't realize I was shaking, until they pointed it out and Heath was alerting me like crazy and was pretty much beside himself as well, as he's never seen me like that. I don't think that I have ever seen me like that. The guys came over, opened the hood, looked at the engine, noticed an oil trail all the way down the drive and oil puddling under the car, running out past the tire. They were very kind and considerate and made every effort to assure us and help us to feel more secure.<br />
They were kind enough to help me find my insurance papers, my registration, and all my other stuff I might need. They spoke to TheMan for me as I was too shook up, one guy, an off duty CHP took pictures of the oil and the engine for me and sent them to my phone in case I needed them. He told me step by step what I needed to do next. They have no idea how much their kindness meant to me. I could not possibly express it in words, so an old lady hug had to suffice.<br />
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The dealership finally sent a tow truck. We waited for almost 5 hours, out in the middle of nowhere, to be taken back several hours almost where we started, to a dealership in Carson City.<br />
It was nearly dark by the time we got there and I got a rental to drive home until things were resolved.<br />
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I went to the first motel I could find, as I can't see to drive in the dark and I was both physically and emotionally exhausted. The lady at the desk refused to rent us a room because of my Service Dog.<br />
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I calmly expressed my understanding that "faux Service Dogs" are a problem, but assured her my dog was legitimate. She asked for papers. I explained that there are no papers and if someone has them, it's a red flag because they are purchased online. She seemed as if she already knew that.<br />
Anyway, to make a long story short, she was rude and condescending, refused us a room on the grounds that her "clientele" expects a pet free environment, some "future client might be allergic to dogs", and I should just "go down the road and find someplace that allows pets". I was already frazzled and exhausted so I told her I would go, but would be filing a complaint and she said "go ahead".<br />
I never experienced discrimination before, but now I know how that feels, and I can tell you, it's devastating. I've since filed a complaint and asked a couple of agencies in the city to make an effort to inform businesses of ADA laws.<br />
<br />
Ugh! Rant over. It still makes me upset.<br />
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Anyway, moving forward, Roo is currently going under the wrench and having major surgery to see what is wrong with his engine. I am praying for a rapid and complete recovery, then I have to make the stupid 7 hour trip BACK to pick him up and return the rental car. I'm not wanting to do it. But I don't see much of a choice. Maybe some kind person will go with me. At any rate, I'll probably opt to sleep in the car this time, rather than deal with motels.<br />
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and now, back to my regular programming...<br />
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We are loving being back in our hometown. We've given a couple of riding lessons, seen grandkids and are somehow so busy every day, I haven't yet had time to visit anyone. There's no more isolation or being stuck inside of an empty house. I'm excited and hopeful and can't wait to see what God has waiting for us around the corner.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">fishing</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">quail hunting</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">riding with friends</td></tr>
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Right before the fated trip to Reno, Heath and I went to the PNW English Shepherd Gathering in Oregon. It was awesome!! Of course, due to the fires in N CA. roads were closed and we had to drive 13 hours to the ranch, then 8 more to our friends' house where we were staying, before making the 45 minute drive to the gathering.<br />
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There were LOTS of English Shepherds and their owners. A multitude of dogs is something Heath had never experienced. He wasn't sure what to do with it, but when we participated in some of the activities, he was all about doing it. The setting was incredible, the views breathtaking.<br />
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Our first was a "barnyard chores" contest. He had to wait while I opened and closed a gate. Then we walked in and he had to wait while I went and got a bucket of feed, walked over and dumped it out, then returned the bucket to where I'd gotten it. Then we went to a pen of ducks and he was to act as my "gate" while I let them out of one pen into another, then move and be a "gate" again while I moved them back. All of these things he did flawlessly. Then we came to the next obstacle, which cost all our points because of me.<br />
There were several straw bales stacked up with plastic eggs hidden in different places. there were treats hidden inside the eggs so the dogs could locate them. He found the eggs, which were large and slippery. I asked him to put them in my basket as I couldn't reach down to pick them up like the other hoomans. He got the first egg in, but the second was really slippery and he had to grab it harder. It popped open and he discovered it had a "creamy center". With great enthusiasm he located the other eggs in record time and I had to get someone to help me put them in the basket before he helped himself to any more of the contents. We all had a good laugh.<br />
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He did an excellent job herding ducks in the next challenge, only missing one.<br />
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Then he surprised me by doing a great job in his very first agility course ever.<br />
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All in all, it was a really fun, exhausting day.<br />
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The next morning we drove 1 1/2 hours into Washington to an incredibly beautiful herding facility to do some sheep herding.<br />
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Heath has no training, but he loves to herd. He was torn between staying beside me or working sheep. I couldn't help him as I am not fast enough to keep from getting run over by the sheep. He went in with his grandmother's owner who is a fantastic herding trainer, judge, breeder and competitor. He was too concerned about leaving me to work. Then my friend, his breeder, who knows him well, went in with him. He looked to me, I gave him the release and he began to work for her. He had a great time and I was tickled because we bo both had been getting kind of stressed, what with all the moving around and driving places we've been doing. In spite of the fact it was it's a really stressful drive for me, the weekend was all about Heath and he made the most of it. We both had a really good time with really good friends.<br />
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Then we drove the 8 hours back to the ranch then 13 hours "home" to recuperate. So one can see why driving 7 hr up to Reno for my pain meds was not something I was excited about.<br />
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-*-*-*-*<br />
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It's been awhile, but now we are in Bakersfield for a few months. I've been training one of the partners and her mare and our first show is this weekend. It's been a lot of fun, staying down here with them and 4 of their little girls. Heath has been taking herding lessons from his new bestie, and the Maremmas, sheep and my old horses will be joining us in a week, so we are looking forward to some great adventures!!!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heath prepares for Halloween</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Her man showcases this years horseshow hubby line of clothing</td></tr>
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....continued<br />
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It’s been some time since I posted and the reason for that is initially, I was waiting for things to fall into place so I had a place to live and a space for everything. Living out of a travel trailer for months wasn’t conducive to any kind of blogging and all my time was accounted for.<br />
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The second reason I haven’t posted is that I don’t like to write when I am in a truly bad emotional space, and that’s where I have been since the beginning of January. Some healing has gone on now, and I feel like I can safely share my thoughts and experiences without being overtly negative.<br />
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Moving to California was such a good thing for me. Prior to the move, I spent much time in a wheelchair, was unable to cook or keep house, walk far or stand up for any length of time. Life was tough, and the future was bleak and dark for me. I knew that I had to benefit down there, being close enough to acquire services that I desperately needed for my condition, such as massage, physical therapy, and just seeing people as opposed to being isolated all day every day. I had no idea how much better I would get.<br />
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I stayed with a wonderful couple for the first 6 weeks or so. They were partners in the business I was going to work for. I originally assumed I would only be able to do paperwork, answer phones and visually keep an eye on things. I had a wonderful time staying with this couple who became very dear to me and treated me like family. Slowly I was able to do more and the first time I went to the store without having to use the electric cart was a huge milestone for me. I slowly became stronger and more optimistic. A sweet neighbor of theirs invited me to go down to the equestrian center to ride her horse. I was only able to mount with great difficulty, and walk around the round pen at first, but it felt amazing. After a few ride I was able to do short stints of trotting, but was very aware of both my weakness and lack of balance. Nevertheless, being back in my hometown, being able to socialize, and knowing I could visit my family who were closely did me worlds of good, along with the wonderful healthy cooking and care given to me by my host. <br />
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One afternoon we went to their daughter’s home down the mountain and an hour away. She and her husband were the other partners. She asked if I could give her a lesson on her new horse as she was having some issues. We figured I could manage that if I had a place to simply sit. I was able to see a number of corrections that needed to be made in the horse’s movement and carriage, as well as a few positional and executional mistakes she was making. I walked back and forth for an hour, sitting in between while she rode. It was the best feeling to be doing what I am good at again. It’s impossible to describe or explain how lost I have been and how validating and energizing it was.<br />
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I was anxious for the Equestrian Center they were building to get funded and built so I could get my own horses down. We all kept thinking it would be anyway. All the plans were made, right down to the placement, grading, logo, etc. She had done her homework, checking out the demographics and need for the business, spent a year getting all the bids done, choosing the barns and corrals, getting the legal work done, registering the name, had the marketing campaign ready to go, plans for everything from landscaping, to activities. It was going to be a first class operation, we were all excited about it going forward and even had many people in the community ready to commit to bringing their horses in.<br />
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I moved into a travel trailer at their place, figuring it would only be a couple of weeks and I’d be heading back up the mountain and moving in. The funding was delayed. I continued working with her and her horse daily, pushing myself to exhaustion, but growing stronger because of it. I slowly started cleaning her paddocks. First one, then all three. She invited me to bring my horses down. I asked if the sheep and dogs could come as well and she agreed. By the end of November, both my horses, my dogs and sheep were all down in California. I was losing weight, gaining strength and getting caught up on what had changed in the horse business since I had “retired” 15 years earlier. As she offered to supply feed for the horses, I was able to purchase badly needed equipment that I had to replace, so I could give riding instruction at the new center when we opened. With plans for an indoor arena, I would be able to teach year round so it was worth the investment, plus we were hoping to pay off our credit card debt and medical bills with my income. That would allow us to pay off my car and replace our truck which is now almost 20 years old. I also had to live off the credit card to feed myself, which was more expensive than I am used to, as I couldn’t just throw anything together in a small kitchen with no counter space or storage. I lived on polish sausage, jalapeño cheese dogs and smoothies, as they were quick, cheap and could be popped in the microwave. Many nights I didn’t eat at all, as I’d be so worn out in the late afternoon, all I could do was sleep. It was a good feeling, to be physically tired because I was doing something.<br />
I was happier than I’ve been in so many years. It was a difficult way to live, but I knew it was worth it, as in just a matter of weeks, my life would change and God was answering all my prayers and dreams. I was riding again, not quite strong enough to post in my jumping saddle, but I was getting there.Everything I had hoped for was around the corner and we were just waiting for one more detail to get it all into motion.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF3AEW9j21aR1c7TrhyMXLp88txxq7dyX0Co_4LniOhArI2ChKz1-xh4ljgzuC0Y06mhLJv_lDFczl5ftjFO8xS_qAkuaXPWqNlKTtB26eT-hOj2v0aSxvKrjGgXukx4-q0WkibHYJWBs/s1600/IMG_0267.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF3AEW9j21aR1c7TrhyMXLp88txxq7dyX0Co_4LniOhArI2ChKz1-xh4ljgzuC0Y06mhLJv_lDFczl5ftjFO8xS_qAkuaXPWqNlKTtB26eT-hOj2v0aSxvKrjGgXukx4-q0WkibHYJWBs/s200/IMG_0267.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my panels and feeders</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and good ol' Mister</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCZ17HlL49QLJRWppZ3gxo0HSB7bYX5C-VWRGvrQi0NZwrntfRJq-vfXxdVr9TVniNMSepEd9rh8csO1hx3IfkCdAxfrn2VFEBdF4Rw7oM-8lJlgjhLPuj15dAbcMtSdaRaklY-soalA8/s1600/IMG_0474.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1383" data-original-width="1600" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCZ17HlL49QLJRWppZ3gxo0HSB7bYX5C-VWRGvrQi0NZwrntfRJq-vfXxdVr9TVniNMSepEd9rh8csO1hx3IfkCdAxfrn2VFEBdF4Rw7oM-8lJlgjhLPuj15dAbcMtSdaRaklY-soalA8/s320/IMG_0474.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The lovely new, very large gelding</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Going to see the lights at C.A.L.M. with all the grands</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirYsWJ6FudeOy9MUO8lpblfQ8hPbaPVEuoUB3n5gPUoGmLF8qA1YxLU9nGc3CNTN6k7f7uzuvA8LUb9uZvWLV82Mt-MFVmBdJ3IO799zvnvqquwoYojHBSr0sKXBIsnToP5T5jJtW5feg/s1600/IMG_0500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirYsWJ6FudeOy9MUO8lpblfQ8hPbaPVEuoUB3n5gPUoGmLF8qA1YxLU9nGc3CNTN6k7f7uzuvA8LUb9uZvWLV82Mt-MFVmBdJ3IO799zvnvqquwoYojHBSr0sKXBIsnToP5T5jJtW5feg/s320/IMG_0500.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Breakfast with the grands in the travel trailer Heath and I stayed in</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">miniature golf with the grands and my son</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPnxaesj6LcHygAaoCiNo4d-_EqSX1fHaad3CaGHLdqiLgHPmev83ckz3J2-f8_eb-AoZ4q3AZJoPknYr2LsTGVETC7Kuw4Fuj3N2A56h4jcpG050bshiChbvosrHkD_Co4UjOi0EB7CU/s1600/IMG_2924.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPnxaesj6LcHygAaoCiNo4d-_EqSX1fHaad3CaGHLdqiLgHPmev83ckz3J2-f8_eb-AoZ4q3AZJoPknYr2LsTGVETC7Kuw4Fuj3N2A56h4jcpG050bshiChbvosrHkD_Co4UjOi0EB7CU/s400/IMG_2924.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heath shocked to find he had the best golf score</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjiKZ_LViwvVdcBjpBH5fWbazZTY5nJULylt-v7uNIPQFT81E4pGPcWlOoiZMRgZGVluZ-dcsz_BCLqNtBQhYoK-TmWoUFoOK13zVYeZw-MxqKP_-V1DRdZnrwjZLgdrxfUZyXNz6usC8/s1600/IMG_0259.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjiKZ_LViwvVdcBjpBH5fWbazZTY5nJULylt-v7uNIPQFT81E4pGPcWlOoiZMRgZGVluZ-dcsz_BCLqNtBQhYoK-TmWoUFoOK13zVYeZw-MxqKP_-V1DRdZnrwjZLgdrxfUZyXNz6usC8/s320/IMG_0259.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ice skating</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqUPoyhJoqWxTrJg1q-a3P6F03VTUrKhJtqaZ8oDheJh_44m49qs1p1Jc5v_SAZd2ENPrrYCu-tbF8HWesS4yv8QvMTnBOk4hTPD89w2id0aSu44ykKn_AM2F-fccSb0o6j-OGGLpnA0U/s1600/IMG_0730.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqUPoyhJoqWxTrJg1q-a3P6F03VTUrKhJtqaZ8oDheJh_44m49qs1p1Jc5v_SAZd2ENPrrYCu-tbF8HWesS4yv8QvMTnBOk4hTPD89w2id0aSu44ykKn_AM2F-fccSb0o6j-OGGLpnA0U/s320/IMG_0730.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roller skating with the grands</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiroCchqEwxniM8J9T6z7TKxBLud8lOLpXW-WrWAfCou19qeEokhAUuyKFvjzq-9g95pVM1OZkDjNg7ImIZhqe74pLnwzXHScFeZRXv8LfInxSD4T21ker6O_csryYAQG07dsLjXrHuawU/s1600/IMG_0361.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="414" data-original-width="414" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiroCchqEwxniM8J9T6z7TKxBLud8lOLpXW-WrWAfCou19qeEokhAUuyKFvjzq-9g95pVM1OZkDjNg7ImIZhqe74pLnwzXHScFeZRXv8LfInxSD4T21ker6O_csryYAQG07dsLjXrHuawU/s320/IMG_0361.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Teaching the grands to ride with Mister</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhklqz6q9C5yEIVsOzHvr7DShid6_Yqhog8xL6gRwCZADp_vH6CmypwYXds00FnXFk6L2iyrQl0vHse6pWxkKhnqf5BLZKMnmpThEugkPHvZqty6ZDE-ytJMyTTuGZVgzT00wG-EocAYVk/s1600/IMG_0184.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhklqz6q9C5yEIVsOzHvr7DShid6_Yqhog8xL6gRwCZADp_vH6CmypwYXds00FnXFk6L2iyrQl0vHse6pWxkKhnqf5BLZKMnmpThEugkPHvZqty6ZDE-ytJMyTTuGZVgzT00wG-EocAYVk/s320/IMG_0184.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heath's sleeping spot in the trailer</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhunNYi1kGUmJ4zuqTDbtwCYwO7Vm5NZ-gf37oGRoIMWpYT-ytzM5Yw3_0WrQbcqMYTKBol0sNX0FuOuHbOtV9FRmIIP7JFyk1b-iYsj_RCssTJQueJ8n54cAagngkKfIbSly0xZ3kVhkk/s1600/IMG_0237.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="414" data-original-width="414" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhunNYi1kGUmJ4zuqTDbtwCYwO7Vm5NZ-gf37oGRoIMWpYT-ytzM5Yw3_0WrQbcqMYTKBol0sNX0FuOuHbOtV9FRmIIP7JFyk1b-iYsj_RCssTJQueJ8n54cAagngkKfIbSly0xZ3kVhkk/s320/IMG_0237.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Teaching the grands to ride</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpxN5QWNarlhWme7SgqB5phLyhvAYDvdyrc946xWhbTr_EqdlTmFHwjLDrnqSuLDuw7UR8kZ2AcC-9DDqQqVPgWLbKNbgHDfJiMRY0qoWbxBiXl-A0A8yOWhDG0Vdhhyphenhyphenp0VdpIoUc4aOs/s1600/IMG_0411.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="472" data-original-width="354" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpxN5QWNarlhWme7SgqB5phLyhvAYDvdyrc946xWhbTr_EqdlTmFHwjLDrnqSuLDuw7UR8kZ2AcC-9DDqQqVPgWLbKNbgHDfJiMRY0qoWbxBiXl-A0A8yOWhDG0Vdhhyphenhyphenp0VdpIoUc4aOs/s400/IMG_0411.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas cookies with Abs</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijq7skHhRXNM7STskwUspsVweMiNqYkvg4JRnqgV4mVdSu4IS5yL-HRQmBGfDylqot1EBSW-XoCXF-pPlUWGCSsXcKvULzzqHTv7vHkZBiD5z1s8X16V1jZ-zFaqaND3TZv-5qN4EeK5c/s1600/IMG_0214.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijq7skHhRXNM7STskwUspsVweMiNqYkvg4JRnqgV4mVdSu4IS5yL-HRQmBGfDylqot1EBSW-XoCXF-pPlUWGCSsXcKvULzzqHTv7vHkZBiD5z1s8X16V1jZ-zFaqaND3TZv-5qN4EeK5c/s320/IMG_0214.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">vaulting lessons with grands</td></tr>
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Her mare was exhibiting some behaviors that were problematic and potentially dangerous. It didn’t make any sense, as she was so generous when she was being ridden. She was willing and forgiving of mistakes and struck me as having an exceptionally good temperament. But on the ground she became a nightmare. She would squeal and kick if touched wrong over her flanks, pinned her ears flat while being saddled and literally chased the farrier out of her pen. It didn’t add up. I kept insisting there had to be a physical cause for her behavior and implored the owner to have her checked for possible reproductive problems. What was discovered was surprising. Her blood work came back indicative of possible ulcers. It could have been hormones, although everything seemed fine reproductively. The most sensible and economical way forward was to treat her for ulcers, even though that was still quite expensive. She had been becoming increasingly more difficult to handle and something had to be done.<br />
<br />
I was gone over Thanksgiving, having gone to pick up my car which finally had a new engine put in it. It had been over 2 months.<br />
The owner, my friend, had picked up the tubes of medicine, but when trying to administer it to her mare, made the mistake of cross tying her first. The mare pulled back upon having the tube put in her mouth and panicked. She broke her halter and her reaction frightened the owner who lost all confidence and trust in the mare. I assured her I would be down the next day and would dose the mare myself. Meanwhile, we had been looking for a horse that was more suitable to her needs.<br />
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We found a lovely big gelding and had him shipped from Michigan. Meanwhile I medicated and worked with the mare and she got better and better. All of her issues were pain related. Her stomach had been so painful she could not cope. Stress was causing acid dumps in her gut, which was irritating the ulcers. She had some foot problems as her feet weren’t being shod correctly so there was much inflammation which showed up on x-rays. A chiropractor worked on her and found that the first two issues had caused many, many others and as she was adjusted, she was literally squealing in pain and lashing out, but much improved afterwards. Once the stuff was solved, they sold her to someone able to maintain her and keep her with a trainer who was aware of her needs.<br />
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The big horse was a challenge for my rider, as he was more green than she was used to, and pretty sensitive, but they finally clicked and did well together.<br />
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Long story short, things fell apart. Funding was not available to put in the center. Banks won’t loan to Equestrian Operations. There was no longer a job, a place to live, work or any hope for me. I packed up and Randy came back and hauled all of us back home, except my sheep which I was forced to give up.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifPJ8gGIDimEdaEn8pM9RjM2lW4Kd7DYxLCKzTeWWuphqm_-9e75k7jO2Wfn0UXrrxd7A2g_IdhW3NggRUiUWTESkgo76Gm7Wi9CEl6SHrbPQ1pYkW7YzSvmV4aXx9om83TUj9Qh8oFB0/s1600/IMG_2933.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifPJ8gGIDimEdaEn8pM9RjM2lW4Kd7DYxLCKzTeWWuphqm_-9e75k7jO2Wfn0UXrrxd7A2g_IdhW3NggRUiUWTESkgo76Gm7Wi9CEl6SHrbPQ1pYkW7YzSvmV4aXx9om83TUj9Qh8oFB0/s200/IMG_2933.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heath wakes me in middle of night with a request</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxPWjY_vqzMYUOcV60MMvoAQ3lYDwKHCpO36XTHJtuN9JieZ3DF5_4k_CZ3tOybwhSU7YX4qFVyknDrfd_dKiqJvF7cyD27StP9TFQype50PiWNgNW_zHaCDN3kQ-bKmy3qlIRLzHyd0Y/s1600/IMG_3133.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="360" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxPWjY_vqzMYUOcV60MMvoAQ3lYDwKHCpO36XTHJtuN9JieZ3DF5_4k_CZ3tOybwhSU7YX4qFVyknDrfd_dKiqJvF7cyD27StP9TFQype50PiWNgNW_zHaCDN3kQ-bKmy3qlIRLzHyd0Y/s320/IMG_3133.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Being subtle</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNBODa5-oZANf5ZDrve9WjL-v1NIzE3_MpW4LtekQE2vroXnoXRJq7-HQrVhVPD07N83qzMfJOGACwbGrx1T5F5tXovFWFK25imllRKpMuHiOp4k9z1x-SJ5sz_kX5EyaXmZ25IRwIneQ/s1600/IMG_3144.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNBODa5-oZANf5ZDrve9WjL-v1NIzE3_MpW4LtekQE2vroXnoXRJq7-HQrVhVPD07N83qzMfJOGACwbGrx1T5F5tXovFWFK25imllRKpMuHiOp4k9z1x-SJ5sz_kX5EyaXmZ25IRwIneQ/s320/IMG_3144.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">feeling like I do</td></tr>
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It’s been pretty rough. I’ve lost most of the strength I had gained. I have only been able to get on a horse once since coming back in January and my balance issues were severe. My legs were so weak I had no security in my seat. It has been a terrible set back. I gained back the ton of weight I had lost. Pain has been a big issue again. Barometric changes here are quite severe and there are no distractions. Depression has been a constant companion that I will probably have to battle daily again, for the rest of my life. I’ve had to reconcile myself to always being alone, as we are too remote to see anyone and everyone on the ranch is far too busy for me and don’t share any of my interests anyway. If I am unable to ride along, there is nothing I can do. We are deeper in debt than before I left, as I never had any income and the credit card got maxed out with living expenses and the equipment I required for teaching, which I was preparing to begin while still in Bakersfield, which I now have no use for. I am being hit with medical bills from CA the insurance decided not to cover. All the miles put on my car used up what was left of my tires so we had to buy a whole new set. I desperately miss my family and friends, riding, training, teaching, being able to get the medical help I need ( physical therapy, massage, etc) going to the gym, being able to get my hair cut, being able to get a pedicure (I cannot reach my feet).I miss having a hope and a purpose. I even miss not having to fix every meal I eat, although the man has been taking a lot of that over again as my condition continues to slide back to what it was before, in spite of my efforts.<br />
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The big dogs had both developed fatty tumors a year or so ago. Once we moved back, Heath got sick with a cold and Potamus started having seizures. Bruno is exhibiting joint pain in his back and his feet. I put the Maremmas on CBD and the tumors have disappeared, the seizures seem to have ceased and both dogs are moving better. The vet gave me meds for Heath and he seems to be over his issues. He’s gained weight though. Too much. I will have to cut him back to keep him healthy. As for me…well, I don’t really care much anymore. I’ll focus on the house as much as I can, maintaining house plants now that I have plenty of time for them. Hopefully I will be able to ride Mister at some point, though I won’t hold my breath. I probably won’t be blogging too much in the future because I don’t like doing these kind of dark and depressing posts. I just thought I owed to it everyone to let you know what’s been going on. Thanks for being there for me.<br />
<br />
Til later,<br />
<br />
Petey</div>
peteyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04842363901612535790noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6450899713878614950.post-54945225199685167972018-07-30T08:47:00.000-07:002018-07-30T08:50:01.829-07:00Goodbye to The Alvord<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">We’ve spent the past 11 years living and working for an enormous working cattle ranch, which covers 250,000 acres of deeded and permitted land. It’s a 4 hour trip to the closest town of any size and 2 hours to the small town of Burns Oregon, which has a Safeway and one other supermarket, a ranch store and a Dairy Queen. There’s not much else, so we tend most often to take the 4 hour drive to Idaho. Because of the time involved and cost of fuel, we manage to make these trips only 4x a year. We coordinate groceries, Dr appt’s, errands and animal feed into one trip every 3 months. We often use the large livestock trailer to fit everything in. </span><br />
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Cashiers at Costco used to raise their eyebrows at the amount of food we would buy but have since grown accustomed to us. Since there is sadly no pizza delivery, all 3 meals have to be made at home. Hardly any prepared or processed foods are purchased as it takes up too much valuable space. We have 3 upright freezers, 2 refrigerators and a large pantry. We buy flour in 50 lb sacks (for those days I want to save time and not have to mill flour to make bread), as well as sugar, brown sugar, rice and wheat berries (to be made into flour). I had dairy goats, a couple of Jersey cows, chickens, ducks, sheep, rabbits and a garden, much of our food was raised at home. I did a lot of canning which saved a lot of freezer space as well as for those nights I was too tired from riding and needed a quick meal at hand. I can soups, chili, shredded Mexican beef, beef and pulled pork for sandwiches, chicken and rabbit for casseroles, beef and chicken stock, vegetables, pie filling etc. It’s amazing the difference in flavor and texture between home canned foods and the stuff you buy in the store. The first 50 years of my life, I didn’t mind cooking when I had to, but it wasn’t something I looked forward to. Having all fresh ingredients actually made it fun and I surfed the internet always looking for great new recipes. And boy did I find some!</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">garden bounty</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJCV6gsq5ki0oNt5T8wY7VMpq4bmmO3fA4gGD5YQdtKn0WTbFBeziYO1lv3LO_3jihQw1YWADgjWZbhBHWsEX-kcuMAfvBsWntdXM5C3C6gYHKDYbzpGOGNKruxoKQd4qVxslMs1lACAI/s1600/IMG_2909.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="899" data-original-width="1600" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJCV6gsq5ki0oNt5T8wY7VMpq4bmmO3fA4gGD5YQdtKn0WTbFBeziYO1lv3LO_3jihQw1YWADgjWZbhBHWsEX-kcuMAfvBsWntdXM5C3C6gYHKDYbzpGOGNKruxoKQd4qVxslMs1lACAI/s320/IMG_2909.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">nothing beats homemade bread and apple pie</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">homemade butter pats</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I made all of our dairy products. Cheese, cream cheese, sour cream, whipped cream, ricotta, butter, ghee, etc. My Jersey cow gave amazingly rich creamy milk, and I actually had to use a spoon to scoop the heavy cream off of the top, as it was that thick.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I spent my days riding with the cowboys (up here they are buckaroos) and cowgirls (who are every bit as capable and rugged as the men). The ranch owner has 5 kids who were all homeschooled and have worked since they could stretch their toddler legs across the back of a pony saddle. It warmed my heart to see this small microcosm of what used to be typical America, where the family works, eats and plays together. The kids learn to rely on one another and instead of competition, there is camaraderie. They learned the convictions of their parents without the outside interference of peer pressure and societal corruption. They appreciate their family, friends, the value of hard work, the blessings of God and their place in the world. They are strong and capable, prepared to handle whatever life deals to them because they have support, encouragement, and the knowledge that their contribution makes a difference.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">We gathered cattle out of pastures that were thousands of acres, sorted and separated pairs, gathered them into corrals for doctoring, branding or whatever else needed to be done. Some days were long, 11 hours or more in the saddle. It was beautiful out on the range, with deer, antelope, pheasant, coyotes, even a cougar, the occasional badger and other wildlife. From the reverence felt watching a bald eagle soar on the wind currents, to the delight of the song of meadowlarks, I never wished to be anywhere else.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">When I’d get back I’d call in my sweet Jersey cow, and rest my head in her flank, relaxing to the sound of her chewing her grain and hay, the pleasant grassy, cowy smell of her and startling from the occasional swat of her tail. I’d strain the milk into jars and chill it, and fix dinner and do whatever other chores I had around the house before bedtime.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I had opportunity to do things I would not otherwise have been able to do. Helping to gather, brand, separate cattle day after day in a spectacularly beautiful setting. Enjoying my little flock of sheep and their Livestock Guardian Dogs, my chickens, Jersey cows, bottle raising up to 30 orphan calves a season, growing huge gardens, making soap, putting the rest of the world on hold.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">break in!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Identity crisis?</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The polar bears counting calves</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"> It was truly an idyllic life, but like all things, it must come to an end and the seasons are changing. God is calling me to something new. I will treasure this time and these memories as I step into the next chapter.</span></div>
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peteyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04842363901612535790noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6450899713878614950.post-84993777397532548812018-06-25T23:16:00.000-07:002018-06-25T23:21:22.152-07:00Show Time<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Deviating a bit from my usual topics, my mind wandered back to my 30+ years of training horses and riders and I thought I would offer some of my thoughts.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">As a trainer and riding instructor, one takes on a great deal of responsibility. Keeping a student safe, enhancing and growing their abilities both as horsemen and as individuals while promoting a safe, comfortable environment for the horses.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Spring and summer in particular, bring an increase in activities. There are lots of horse shows, play days and other competitions for which the kids work hard and have great expectations.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">This is a huge opportunity for personal growth. Kids demonstrate their skills to a judge, an audience of peer/competitors, friends and family and the public at large. It can be daunting, but the opportunities for success are endless. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Unlike other competitive sports, in which the participant performs individually such as gymnastics, or dance or team sports where they play a part of a greater whole, such as in baseball or soccer, a rider must be the leader of a horse/partner team, in a relationship where responses are fluid and often unpredictable. This requires great concentration as split second decisions and responses may be called on at any time, as in the event of a horse spooking off the rail because of the sudden actions of a spectator or something as common as a napkin blown by the breeze. The rider must be prepared at all times for such an incident, be capable of controlling the horse’s movements and reactions all while maintaining proper form, having spatial awareness to avoid hitting other horses (or even judges) and “covering” the mistake and the ability to remain focused on the changing instructions dictated throughout a performance. It requires patience, confidence, dedication and skill. Children, even at very young ages, do demonstrate the ability to exhibit these qualities. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Youngsters tend to want affirmation and recognition and of course, to please their parents. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Parents, who often invest a great deal of time and money into the child’s chosen sport, tend to sometimes lose perspective, which can place undue pressure on an exhibitor. Others, might not show up, which can be disappointing to a youngster. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">But the most common mistake riders, trainers or parents often make, is to put value on winning a blue ribbon.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Don’t get me wrong, winning is a praiseworthy goal, but is not always an accurate measure of success.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Winning placement is at the discretion of judges. Sometimes judges do a poor job. We are human. Don’t set your child up to find their worthiness as a competitor at the mercy of a stranger’s opinion.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Some of our most successful competitions were ones where my kids didn’t place well or even place at all. Showing horses should always be about personal goals. We always had a clear set of directives we wanted to achieve in each class. It might be as simple as remembering to keep your eyes up. Or learning to circle out of a crowded situation…or getting diagonals correct both directions, or nailing lead changes. It may even be having your horse remain walking calmly on the rail, when everyone else is cantering by, because he has been over reactive, or become “ringwise”, (ie: automatically going to the next gait when the microphone keys over the loudspeaker) .</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Practicing this kind of showmanship takes great courage on the part of a rider, because they have to go against the flow and bring attention to themselves that may not be positive, but bring long term benefits to the partnership. I’ve had adult exhibitors struggle mightily with it. One had a winning horse that developed a habit of surging forward when the announcer called for a lope, particularly if there were horses moving up behind him. My directions to the rider, were to continue walking until at least 3 horses had passed them before quietly asking for the canter cue. She found it very stressful to do, as she was a highly competitive person. Imagine how much more difficult this can be for a young rider, who is just learning discipline and self control. But it works, and brings both good habits and perspective.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I always encourage riders to focus on a personal goal, such as remembering to ride deep into the corners. If they get no recognition from the judge, but they consistently did that, that is success. Doing so, teaches a horse not to cut corners and ingrains a habit into the rider that becomes fairly automatic. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Attention to detail and concentrating on individual goals, brings confidence, consistency and character to riders, and helps eliminate show ring jitters, resulting in ever increasing wins in the show ring down the road.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Make sure parents and kids know what the goal is for each class, so the appropriate recognition can be given to both horse and rider.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Have a great summer!</span></div>
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peteyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04842363901612535790noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6450899713878614950.post-38384129682833419662018-05-23T19:45:00.000-07:002018-05-23T19:45:52.668-07:00Something In The Wind<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So, it’s been awhile, but much has happened. Really.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">As many of you who have followed along for awhile, things have gotten kinda tough. My health has been deteriorating and because of that, I have fought depression and a myriad of other maladies. The ranch, which was once an exciting place, where I was able to ride out on the range everyday, helping move cattle and seeing nature at its best, having my milk cow, raising our own meat and eggs, vegetables etc. has become my worst enemy. TheMan gets up and is gone to work before I am awake most days. Other than a quick lunch spent in front of the Waltons, I don’t see him again until after dark, when he eats dinner, usually with a western on, before retiring to bed. I can no longer ride, milk a cow, garden or do any of the things that brought me joy. I sit in a recliner, day and night as it is too painful to lay down. The pain is always present, it's never completely gone. Sometimes it's excruciating, other times, just annoying. But it's always there. None of the drugs have worked. I have failed every drug regimen they have so far. Pills, injections, infusions, waiting on new drugs hoping maybe the next one will work. Meanwhile, they are all poisoning me in some way. So I finally quit taking them, except for the painkillers, because I won't survive at all without those. The pain is already hard to deal with, when it's being managed. I don't even want to think about what it would be like without something to take the edge off. I have to admit, it's nice not having all the side effects, and not feeling like a pincushion from all the injections and infusions.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue";"><span style="font-size: 15px;">The loneliness here is overwhelming, as I usually don’t see or hear from another human being for weeks at a time, outside of the internet, and watching TheMan watch TV. There is nowhere for me to go, nothing for me to do, and no one for me to see here. Everyone on the ranch is busy doing their own thing, and I am no longer a part of it. Add to that, I am unable to effectively clean my own house, take care of my yard or my animals anymore. Everything is a mess, which of course, increases my depression exponentially, as it is not my way to have things in chaos. My barn and yard at home, in California, were always organized, well run, beautiful and animals well cared for. Here a colony of 3 rabbits became my worst nightmare. Right after putting the buck in with the 2 does remaining after the big processing, I fell ill AND had to have surgery again. I did not realize TheMan never removed the buck from the colony. It never occurred to me that he would throw food at them, but not manage them. Picture, a few months later when I was able to go out, finding it overrun with rabbits and with hay and manure built up. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I tried to catch and cull rabbits but after doing 5, I was unable to use my arms and hands for close to 2 weeks. I could not clean the colony myself because I am no longer strong enough. I tore the bicep tendon clean off of my shoulder, just trying to lift my old saddle. There is no one to help. No one. Things continued to worsen, along with the yard and house. My “milk room” a 16x16 structure that used to be my stallion’s stall in Calif. but became a multi use tack room, milking parlor, feed storage and chick brooder is now full of empty sacks and trash, along with an over abundance of feral cats. I am not a lover of cats. I am deathly allergic to them. This entire discovery added to the depression.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I became overwhelmed, and hopeless.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Then God moved.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">He didn’t move away from me, He made His move. He moved towards me, and showed me He had been answering my prayers all along. Like the angel in the book of Daniel who told him he’d been sent weeks before but had been detained, He’s been working on my behalf all along.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Without going into too much detail, I was contacted by a client I had not spoken to in about 15 years, regarding a business venture they would like to undertake and they have a job for me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I will be leaving the ranch, going back down where my friends and family are. The job will involve me in something I have always loved, the move will allow me to receive healthcare that isn’t available to me here, where we are living hours away from the nearest town. I can finally get physical therapy, massage, reflexology, there are Doctors close by…no more driving down 50 miles of gravel roads then an additional 3 hours over highways with broken ribs and collapsed lungs to see a doctor.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"> I will be able to finally see my grandchildren grow up, as I have missed 11 years of their lives, being in a different state and only able to see them for a couple of days each year.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">My friends and family will all be within a short drive. No more spending holidays alone. No more dreaming about them and not being able to see or speak to them, or share their joys and sorrows.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I will live where help is available. If I need help cleaning my house, I can hire someone. If I need help cleaning up the yard, I can hire someone. If I need help feeding, or managing animals, it is available. If I need to sell something, I can sell it. At the ranch, no one is going to drive 4 hours to see or pick up anything here.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I will be able to do more, be more active, get stronger. There are things to do with Heath. We can finally pursue some of the things I have wanted to do with him, such as: herding lessons, scentwork, rally obedience, agility, or whatever we find is fun for the two of us.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Our lives are going to change dramatically and completely. We still have to wait several months, but knowing there is hope, I can endure it. It’s like labor pains. They are all consuming and unbearable in and of themselves, but knowing they can only last a minute or two, and will eventually end completely, and result in great joy, so will this. The only thing that keeps it from being perfect, is that TheMan chooses to remain behind, on the ranch. At least until he is ready to retire, so this journey is just for me and the Heathen.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">There hasn’t been anything in particular to blog about lately, but I wanted to share this with you all. Thanks to everyone for taking this journey with me, for your encouragement and friendship. Once we are settled in, I imagine blogging will become easier again and I will be much more reliable.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Til then, here’s some bits and pieces from our travels in April.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_elJ2ad_MjzaUIRezIzfW7wXMyW6OLFj7tZXC6m5DW8O6HiwCF3KIu9lUPSSPMB5mLhbMwqBsav_HpJVVJkJU-PYXvGk47M5Kk5r45A_QUoYUMlfqf1NDG6XOAFF5ZF8Cd4f2US-H7wI/s1600/IMG_1737.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_elJ2ad_MjzaUIRezIzfW7wXMyW6OLFj7tZXC6m5DW8O6HiwCF3KIu9lUPSSPMB5mLhbMwqBsav_HpJVVJkJU-PYXvGk47M5Kk5r45A_QUoYUMlfqf1NDG6XOAFF5ZF8Cd4f2US-H7wI/s320/IMG_1737.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heath is miffed. A small Jack Russell stole his place, so Heath stole his bed</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhQnRaqu6kqza0eZQn2I5Z5B5geqEyOHaqOaKTnDEgCmRkRFLSBG9mIjnH2dK1tcTMB0Hs-UcIzoDAPiWcRX6TCQNAX-4O98IZmsBQNRfZJKrBzckQSIRoagY2X-ZwGRGENsYaeqwfDM8/s1600/IMG_1746.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1342" data-original-width="1600" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhQnRaqu6kqza0eZQn2I5Z5B5geqEyOHaqOaKTnDEgCmRkRFLSBG9mIjnH2dK1tcTMB0Hs-UcIzoDAPiWcRX6TCQNAX-4O98IZmsBQNRfZJKrBzckQSIRoagY2X-ZwGRGENsYaeqwfDM8/s320/IMG_1746.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Teaching my cousin to do stained glass</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpy02JNNhbNWpCClyIvj_uWn4vbIV5R0qyjgMp3VDNo8Nl-FK9EDCw-9uE6U2HgEB_dBoZllCKyWRoj9jml978nx5zsHgzxS-kXJpUQRefoZ1sm61fUklfO3PjFLAAAkNZZ3gbdM7Xr60/s1600/IMG_1748.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="360" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpy02JNNhbNWpCClyIvj_uWn4vbIV5R0qyjgMp3VDNo8Nl-FK9EDCw-9uE6U2HgEB_dBoZllCKyWRoj9jml978nx5zsHgzxS-kXJpUQRefoZ1sm61fUklfO3PjFLAAAkNZZ3gbdM7Xr60/s320/IMG_1748.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my cousins' creek</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgerO2beF7LyB2yAE_ogpgKFMhml5iyf4gQwp_C2Nc_CmoXPh92op1T-D92b2nh_YaN9XToiFkDgihmEaa6wSuZL7GZVjcCbGV-hhacKl4PLDR0nkk6LRX6PwU7-60iiIBXdOZ6tm6yHyw/s1600/IMG_1637+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgerO2beF7LyB2yAE_ogpgKFMhml5iyf4gQwp_C2Nc_CmoXPh92op1T-D92b2nh_YaN9XToiFkDgihmEaa6wSuZL7GZVjcCbGV-hhacKl4PLDR0nkk6LRX6PwU7-60iiIBXdOZ6tm6yHyw/s200/IMG_1637+2.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">shopping</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilsubV99i4WX6IWcAakuX4mhYqFqSHGcIJnjwd-0OWAIbanxgS_x6YIo0KiooQI5iCJH2qdgJ4NcoDFokAOe13DsJzE9kWgcY495v7gGLOH09vav7t50LXS9AzbwkDudO0tA_jGGDnNTM/s1600/IMG_1678.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="480" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilsubV99i4WX6IWcAakuX4mhYqFqSHGcIJnjwd-0OWAIbanxgS_x6YIo0KiooQI5iCJH2qdgJ4NcoDFokAOe13DsJzE9kWgcY495v7gGLOH09vav7t50LXS9AzbwkDudO0tA_jGGDnNTM/s320/IMG_1678.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">pulling into Winnemucca</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjNC0ICX2my6mt2xuvOhJf4PESRQW4OS9XFthhQha9KlzAiJ_AN5YVjcFAHDoBCPZWDgjjhw3MHCvL1yl6bTcgessVp8h3deELRyAMr74qfPdBp3NNmnn6goVgQujRjyn_vNDNJuqrPfs/s1600/IMG_1691+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="360" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjNC0ICX2my6mt2xuvOhJf4PESRQW4OS9XFthhQha9KlzAiJ_AN5YVjcFAHDoBCPZWDgjjhw3MHCvL1yl6bTcgessVp8h3deELRyAMr74qfPdBp3NNmnn6goVgQujRjyn_vNDNJuqrPfs/s320/IMG_1691+2.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hwy 20</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbpwA_yTXRyNiWs0cFYAt3cvpe3TybxN8pEd58SEf8lHuUX1_iiNOTY2hiB_mC-S3wYHmofKP2I_iEO0B911M58hWsZOyZtJGXBmrS_jsZ6cGWYlMhHRaQDd9wHkdeJYGVtc_gNJbwjRU/s1600/IMG_1753.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="360" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbpwA_yTXRyNiWs0cFYAt3cvpe3TybxN8pEd58SEf8lHuUX1_iiNOTY2hiB_mC-S3wYHmofKP2I_iEO0B911M58hWsZOyZtJGXBmrS_jsZ6cGWYlMhHRaQDd9wHkdeJYGVtc_gNJbwjRU/s320/IMG_1753.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mendocino</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtsXmmbaCQ9efvbNNxH54oeivJHvS6vJIk_PdlR6BEwKjn_TkqRHoTb3MsvynbhNdet5Y-GDToZhWKEUPCYhzeg2epceomfrRhsqm_9stxye9cXOATTtm3HhPSx2N_4-te4ZpJ2cHozQs/s1600/IMG_1754.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtsXmmbaCQ9efvbNNxH54oeivJHvS6vJIk_PdlR6BEwKjn_TkqRHoTb3MsvynbhNdet5Y-GDToZhWKEUPCYhzeg2epceomfrRhsqm_9stxye9cXOATTtm3HhPSx2N_4-te4ZpJ2cHozQs/s320/IMG_1754.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB_rSUIysD74KCwkcJlq9yyWdb07qUj0WU9iov7w0AB2pBF0iofYemnr6TtyrRq6zeb8fZw552G9jMXiopVo0nDoQ4IiI8CHlK7wqU50630MfcRh9DZawY14_YZdzKjTld-QQgyO77C-U/s1600/IMG_1802.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="360" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB_rSUIysD74KCwkcJlq9yyWdb07qUj0WU9iov7w0AB2pBF0iofYemnr6TtyrRq6zeb8fZw552G9jMXiopVo0nDoQ4IiI8CHlK7wqU50630MfcRh9DZawY14_YZdzKjTld-QQgyO77C-U/s320/IMG_1802.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiiwY8L0RF2q0W6NZESzl87MiJtFihEjXq-YzDfsrI-239M0VMXIdgKcZxOdLpny0mcQLLFw4d6KIuzY_ZCvQNlSVYbyE4qPU-TNpGXeaQ_MuKd8XYtQWfLCq6InKmQcl4IpdvKWZl8Mo/s1600/IMG_1899.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="360" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiiwY8L0RF2q0W6NZESzl87MiJtFihEjXq-YzDfsrI-239M0VMXIdgKcZxOdLpny0mcQLLFw4d6KIuzY_ZCvQNlSVYbyE4qPU-TNpGXeaQ_MuKd8XYtQWfLCq6InKmQcl4IpdvKWZl8Mo/s400/IMG_1899.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My traveling buddy</td></tr>
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peteyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04842363901612535790noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6450899713878614950.post-17960744150698108642018-03-03T13:47:00.001-08:002021-04-01T10:41:34.939-07:00Got Milk?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWKa8nOEr7-h_5JSmb0inbc0yJtGH3AxFF05qTMqlDoT0g5DiTzU02IXi845DtCYHMKiUINt3X_Wba4_Lb_NjqjEIJEFpz078tru2SImZvgpjBAFD12YK1l205BPU4S9hYwBreXtCNYpg/s800/IMG_0334%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="449" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWKa8nOEr7-h_5JSmb0inbc0yJtGH3AxFF05qTMqlDoT0g5DiTzU02IXi845DtCYHMKiUINt3X_Wba4_Lb_NjqjEIJEFpz078tru2SImZvgpjBAFD12YK1l205BPU4S9hYwBreXtCNYpg/s320/IMG_0334%25281%2529.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />It's been awhile, and I haven't been able to write much, so I thought I would take a step back in time and republish one of my favorite memories.<br />
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Years ago, living on our small family ranch in California, I was already moving in the direction of becoming more self sufficient, food-wise. I decided a milk cow was in order. I knew I would have a reasonable supply of fresh milk, cream, butter and maybe cheese. The internet, at that time, had not been invented, in fact....we had no computers. So I was on my own to figure all these things out.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">On my quest for our bovine beauty, I met a sweet old man with a dairy in Bakersfield, about 45 minutes down the mountain from our town. He told me he had a nice cow who freshened at 10 GALLONS a day, but was currently only giving 2 gallons daily...she had not gotten re-bred and would become a "butcher cow" unless I wanted her. We agreed on a price and I set out to pick her up. It was almost Thanksgiving, and we had heavy snow and ice on the road. I proceeded to hook up our massive 6 horse trailer and head for the big city of Bakersfield. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">About 1/2 mile down our road, I came upon a CalTrans snowplowman, who informed me "You'll never make it down this road with that trailer"...I am NOT a great backer-upper (yes, that is a real word). It took me over 45 minutes to slip and slide down that narrow canyon road and avoid going off the embankment...normally it was a 7 minute drive. A quick and URGENT stop at the first available restroom and off I went to pick up the cow.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">My first clue that this may not have been a real good idea, was when it took 8 men to load her, and one got smashed in the gate. They finally got her aboard, and my primary thought was...how am I gonna milk this monster, all by myself? You see, what I hadn't considered, was, she was a DAIRY cow...in otherwords, she had NEVER been handled or hand milked. She would just follow the others in to eat her 'candy' had electric doodaddy's stuck on her plugs and away she'd go. (yes, that IS a technical term).</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I had the entire trip home to devise a plan to get her into my barn, and get her milked. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Skip ahead about 6 to 8 hours...there are rope marks and burns around every oak tree between the driveway and the barn, skid marks in the snow and mud that match my bootprints...there are several body indentations in the snow about my size, with cowtracks that seemly go right through them...but INSIDE the barn is a monstrous, muddy Holstein cow, with each hind leg tied to opposite corners of a stall, head locked between two boards, happily munching on hay, with a victorious young mother filling her bucket with milk, one squirt at a time. Ahhhh! The simple life!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">**********</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Years and years after my relationship with my Holstein cow (whom we fondly referred to as "Jugs") we moved to a smaller piece of property, only 2 1/2 acres, and closer to town. The kids grew up, and moved out, my life had modernized as we lived in a real live, less than 100 yr old, contractor built home, unlike the humble abode at the ranch that was built 80 years before at a Chinese labor camp then moved there...but thats a story for another day...</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I had been training show horses for years, spending lots of time on the road, but now HandyRandyman and I were about to enter a new season of life, away from the ratrace. It was time to start living the "Simple Life" again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I began like anyone else would. I bought 3 chickens (Oprah, Ethel, and Schatzey, because everyone knows chickens with names perform better).</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">One afternoon, while perusing the Motorcycle section of the CameraAds, (a sign of terminal boredom) my eye was drawn to a great big ad for a newly freshened DAIRY GOAT. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Now, as you well know, a newly freshened goat, at a very reasonable price, in giant letters, in the MOTORCYCLE section of a paper, is clearly a sign from above. So, I did the sensible thing, and hooked up the latest monster trailer and headed for Bakersfield again, this time to pick up our new goat.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">As I mentioned...she was very reasonably priced. I was thrilled. The only hitch was, it was necessary to strip her of milk twice daily as she had no kid with her (that's a term for 'baby goat' for those who don't know...Caprine owners seldom throw their children in to sweeten a deal, no matter HOW badly they want to get rid of the goat)</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">After lugging her home, it occurred to me there might be a reason she was so attractively priced. I discovered it, when I learned she had a quirky little habit of LYING DOWN whenever you tried to milk her. I threatened, I cajoled, but she continued to fold up like a cheap, portable chair, and it was getting dark. My back was aching, and we didn't have a stanchion yet, so, in desperation, I heaved her front end up on a picnic table, and had Randyman hold her back end up in the air so I could get underneath and get my 2 quarts of milk...all the while with him mumbling "dear Lord, I hope the neighbors cant see me...this looks so bad..."</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Next morning: I drag myself up at 4:30 cuz Randyman is gonna leave for work and I want to enlist his help again. Due to the visibility from the breaking light, he stubbornly refuses and I am left to my own devices. But I am armed with confidence that I will prevail, as I have vast experience in animal training, and am known to be very resourceful, if not stubbornly single minded.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">SUCCESS!!! It wasn't really that hard after all! All that was necessary, was to rob a few cinches and straps out of my tack room, and fashion a sling....wrestle it around a large, reluctant and recalcitrant goat, then hoist her up in an oak tree far enough so her feet couldn't reach the ground and VIOLA!! MILK!</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I just love a bargain, don't you?</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Around and about 6 years ago, we took a job as ranch hands on one of the largest and oldest working cattle ranches in the state of Oregon, and here we are now, in this idyllic place 110 miles from the nearest town. The simple life has enveloped us, and consequently, we are once again enjoying fresh squeezed milk, because Randy bought me a Jersey cow for Mothers Day. She is very gentle, but somewhat spoiled and ill mannered.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">She is however, not without her little quirks. Having no milking stool per se, I used my little rattan footstool (from Pier1) as it was low and light enough to manage.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">As I happily pumped away, morning after morning, Dolly (aforementioned Jersey cow) would munch happily on her hay and grain, occasionally smacking me in the face with her tail, often relieving herself with an unappetizing “plop”, perpetually swinging her hips (from TipMeOnMyButtClose to DangNearOutOfReach) and, of course, always trying to dip her foot in the bucket.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">She became more and more skilled at the placement of her hind foot until she finally managed to sink it right to the bottom of a gallon of milk.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Tossing the tainted milk aside, blood pressure peaking, I grabbed a set of hobbles and proceeded to tie her hind feet together, preventing any more attempts to stick ‘em in my business.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">With her heels glued together, and her head locked securely in the head gate, I went about filling a new bucket, when without warning, Dolly got mad. She apparently was not impressed with the hobbles and began to kick wildly in an effort to remove them. It’s a scientific fact that when two entities are tied tightly together, and one swings thru the air, the other tends to follow…</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Before I could say “I’ll just buy milk” she came tumbling my way, crushing my stool, and pinning my lower half under her belly…with my arms free, I managed to release the bar on the stanchion holding her head captive, as I was afraid she was going to break her neck. This had the effect of releasing the last several hundred pounds of big, mad, rubbery cow and she melted all over me. Realizing help would not arrive until evening, I managed to wriggle out from underneath that mess of a cow and assume a semi- upright position.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">After getting my cow on her feet, I gathered up my now skinny, oblong milk bucket, the 2 sticks remaining of my stool, and my hobbles, and left my cow, my milk and my pride in the corral, and had a cup of very black coffee and some dry cereal.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Having experienced a self inflicted cow tipping of sorts, as a result of tying my cow's hind feet together and incurring her wrath, I found myself without a milking stool.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Milking requires a great deal of squatting, if you have no stool, it can be hard on the back, legs, and disposition. So, I jumped on the nearest internet and began searching.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">My quest was successful! A cool catalogue (Lehmans) which carries all manner of nifty, old timey, useful stuff, had a One Legged Milking Stool. Now this is a brilliant concept, because MY cow likes to Mambo and Cha Cha, and its a little hard to keep up with her , so a one legged stool would allow me to tip, pivot and follow as necessary, to keep her plugs within reach...and as if this incredible mobility feature isn't enough, it comes with a belt, which straps around your hips! So, with it firmly attached to your hindquarters, you just have to squat down and scoot yourself into place! I couldn't WAIT for it to arrive!!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">The UPS man finally showed up, and I proudly held my stool out to Randyman, who just shook his head. Clearly he had no idea how wonderful this was going to be.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Next morning, I realized it was a bit heavy, as it is made of solid hardwood (quality stuff!), so I had to hoist it up onto the kitchen table and back up to it in order to get it on.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Stool firmly attached, I loaded myself up with 2 small milk pails (the large one had been totalled in the wreck), another small bucket with warm soapy water to wash the udder, a bucket of soaked beet pulp to keep her happy, and a dry towel in my mouth...I proceeded out the kitchen door. It didn't take but a second to realize the leg protruding from my backside wasn't going to allow me to turn and shut the door on our narrow porch...so I</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">1. walked to the step</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">2. unloaded buckets and rags</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">3.turned back</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">4. pulled door shut</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">5. backed up to step again to avoid putting chair leg thru glass on door</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">6. reloaded</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">After reloading, I repeated steps 1-6 at the yard gate, and again at the corral. The stool clearly had a design flaw, and was getting nicked up rather badly every time I swung around.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Believing the worst was behind me, (and, indeed, it was) I put down my stuff, sidled up next to Dolly and proceeded to sit down and take my nifty new stool for a test drive...</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">...No one, apparently has ever measured the legs on these stools!!! The one on mine is rather SHORT, and after squatting to the level at which I should have made contact, my quad muscles could no longer hold me, and my hips soon reached terminal velocity, as they sped toward the solid ground of the corral.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">With a tooth shattering jolt, which nearly shot my now bugging eyes clean out of my head, that one legged milking stool reached earth and turned itself into a well planted fence post. This had the effect of tightening the belt around my hips and the stool had seemingly become a permanent part of my anatomy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">With a bit of rocking, I was able to finally topple myself over, the @#!!*&$ stool still attached to my backside, and I proceeded to kick my tools out under the fence and head for the house. I do not know for the life of my WHY I thought i would get a different result from squatting in the garden!! Several eggplants and a tomato later, I managed to extricate myself from ground level of very soft soil, and crawl to the rock wall and pull myself up. I found my knife, cut the strap on the stool and shoved it up on top of the garden shed, where it remains to this day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I located a plastic crate that once held 5 gallon water bottles which seemed to hold my weight. I headed back to the corral with it, convinced my curious cow that NO, she had NOT seen a unicorn, and I proceeded to finish the job.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I think I can tell you, with some authority, that the cheese isn't the only Laughing Cow!!</span></div>
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peteyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04842363901612535790noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6450899713878614950.post-66171237378577700012017-11-08T17:34:00.001-08:002017-11-08T22:07:52.373-08:00About Service Dogs<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLd5jPkRRCy95aICgeFe7r-qEK7nlIY4tXu3dlRPURS7Fd7EplcOvKqKoxzN6t8v_9HC2h4raRAu_2WhTB55WgOwMRLZVfUZhII3ux6P2Q5-SC2gl7UK76hnB_S9M4_A0rBnAGPJEs5KQ/s1600/16406960_10211372436162849_940579328640953715_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLd5jPkRRCy95aICgeFe7r-qEK7nlIY4tXu3dlRPURS7Fd7EplcOvKqKoxzN6t8v_9HC2h4raRAu_2WhTB55WgOwMRLZVfUZhII3ux6P2Q5-SC2gl7UK76hnB_S9M4_A0rBnAGPJEs5KQ/s640/16406960_10211372436162849_940579328640953715_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heath poses with the Blu Roo. His assistance makes it possible for me to be independent so we finally have our own transportation</td></tr>
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Having found myself part of a Service dog team, I am becoming aware of some of the issues that presents. As some of them are far more serious than people who are not involved with SD’s could understand, I hope to do my best to explain them and then, through you, educate the public.<br />
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The American Disabilities Act determines what constitutes a Service Dog and the rights of an SD team.<br />
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First of all, a Service Dog’s owner must actually <b>BE disabled</b> to the point that they cannot live a normal life without the assistance of the dog. In essence the dog is akin to a piece of medical equipment, like a wheelchair or blood pressure monitor or anything else necessary to assist the handler and protect their health and safety. The dog must be individually task trained to mitigate that handler's particular disabilities. <br />
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An <b>Emotional Service Animal (ESA)</b> does <b>NOT</b> have the training or rights to public access. They are a comfort animal only and with a doctor's note have rights to live with owner in what might normally be a no pet complex and have rights to fly with handler.<br />
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<b>A Therapy Dog is not a Service Dog</b>. It is specially trained to interact with children and others who may be somehow confined to a facility as a type of Emotional therapy for others. Their handlers may or may not be disabled.<br />
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While we all probably visualize a dog that guides the blind, the Service Dog of today is able to serve far more disabilities, often more reliably than conventional medical equipment. There are hundreds of <i><b>invisible</b></i> disabilities. Some dogs automatically “alert” to events such as : seizures, blood pressure changes, insulin changes, disassociation and others. Not every Service Dog is able to perform those particular tasks as some are born, not made, so they are more rare than others and can be any breed or size. Their attention to their handler can often be life saving. Dogs can be used to detect allergens in foods, another life saving service, others may help with mobility, counter balancing and assisting handler in rising and walking safely, pick up things that are dropped, bring items that are out of reach of handlers, open and close doors, turn lights on and off, assist with psychiatric disabilities such as PTSD, blocking and trying to keep a safe zone open for handlers, help avoid triggers, they can alert handlers to harmful behaviors such as picking, scratching, rocking, they can guide a disoriented handler out of stores or strange places, taking them to exits, guiding them to vehicles, there are hundreds of tasks a dog can be trained to do that are life changing to a disabled handler.<br />
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Size and temperament are important factors in choosing a Service Dog. A large Mastiff type dog may be suitable as a mobility dog, whereby a chihuahua, or toy breed might have a natural alert that is more easily detected when near a handlers breath and are small enough to be carried. There are no size or breed requirements, but temperaments are critical, as these dogs must perform in a variety of situations in public and must be biddable and confident enough to accept any and all of the things that might occur in public places. <br />
These dogs require a high degree of training, executing their jobs while presenting good manners in public, not barking, straining at the leash, showing aggression towards strangers or other dogs, quietly and calmly accompanying their handler in all places and situations. A good SD should be unobtrusive, attentive to its handler, does not pull, bark, sniff around for food, defecate or urinate inside, behave only mildly interested in other dogs, if not ignore them all together. <br />
Legitimate SD's have legal public access to any place the public may go, such as restaurants, hospitals, stores, etc.<br />
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They are <b>NOT</b> required to wear an identifying vest, and they do <b>NOT</b> have certifications. Certifications (unless given by a training facility upon graduation, a courtesy, not a requirement) are a sham, as they can be purchased online for about $80 with no proof of training, disability, or anything else. It’s basically a false ID and illegal to use. Some States may offer a special tag, as a courtesy.<br />
With the rising number of Service Dogs for invisible disabilities, there is also a rise in phony teams, causing serious problems for both business owners and legitimate Service Dog teams.<br />
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<i><b>As a gatekeeper or store owner</b></i>, you have the right to ask if the dog is a Service Dog and ask what special tasks the dog performs.The team is not required to demonstrate the tasks. This seems like it is impossible for gatekeepers to turn away illegitimate teams, but if a dog’s behavior is causing a problem for the business, (barking, urinating or defecating, aggression, jumping on people, riding in basket, sitting off floor, etc) the business owner CAN request the handler to remove the dog and be welcome to return without it. It is illegal to deny access or treat a legitimate Service Dog team differently than any other customer, provided the dog is not causing a disturbance by misbehavior.<br />
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The easiest way to tell if a SD team is real or not, is pretty much by observing the dog. Although dogs are sentient beings and can have ‘off days’ just like we do, they can sometimes make mistakes but they should not be disruptive. A phony Service Dog team can not only give Legitimate Teams a bad reputation, they can cause serious problems for real teams.<br />
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Dogs can be acquired through professional training facilities often for thousands of dollars, trained by a professional trainer who knows something about the requirements of the handler’s disability or trained by the handler themselves.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5xNoHzLiyHJkXqD31iuv8zUQe_lqsTFwLxYRfuaJexMxWOJymQq37887sZ3_5xCC8u5-Z3YQiOnrOxVz4fS-Y6lw-as07XB3fdBhsFBkiOuhXUBwAukUlIOtXDyFZvCHWhYDiZOpObR4/s1600/IMG_0169.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5xNoHzLiyHJkXqD31iuv8zUQe_lqsTFwLxYRfuaJexMxWOJymQq37887sZ3_5xCC8u5-Z3YQiOnrOxVz4fS-Y6lw-as07XB3fdBhsFBkiOuhXUBwAukUlIOtXDyFZvCHWhYDiZOpObR4/s400/IMG_0169.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heath waits with me at the hospital</td></tr>
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This is most of the information about the dogs I can think of off the top of my head, now I would like to address the <b>responsibility of the PUBLIC.</b><br />
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One should <b>NEVER ask to pet a Service Dog</b>. There are multiple reasons for this. I know handlers with beautifully trained dogs that they can no longer use, because the dog draws unwanted attention and makes going in public even more stressful with the dog than without, because of people constantly approaching to talk with them or the dog. These are folks that need space and no uninvited interaction from people.<br />
Another problem of distracting someone’s Service Dog is that it draws the dog’s attention away from the handler and he may miss a necessary alert to a coming seizure or other event. <br />
Heath is a social butterfly, and it causes me a great deal of grief, when people reach down to pet him. because he quickly gets excited and over threshold and wants to socialize with <b>EVERYONE, </b>especially any children that happen to be in sight. Fortunately, he is learning to take it more in stride as he matures but is still upsetting because most people only ask as they are reaching for him and it's already too late.<br />
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If you are in public with your own dog, keep it far away from Service Dog teams. I know of dogs that have been ruined because someone else allowed their pet dog enough leash to reach a Service Dog, sometimes even becoming aggressive and causing injury resulting in the Service Dog to either lose confidence or become aggressive towards strangers or their dogs itself. Basically, the dog is no longer able to be used because of careless ignorance on the part of irresponsible or ignorant pet owners. I have had it happen to Heath and I and am fortunate that he is flexible enough that he did not respond, we were able to remove ourselves quickly and the incident wasn’t serious enough to cause him much distress. These dogs work hard and the mental discipline they use can be exhausting to them. Dealing with strange people and pets can cause burn out for the dog.<br />
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Another pet peeve of handlers is strangers who talk to their dog. Again, it distracts the dog but it also demeans the handler. Even I find it very annoying when someone approaches and uses the baby talk voice to distract Heath and behave as though I am not even there. It is terribly rude, regardless of intention.<br />
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Not many people want to answer a thousand questions about their dog or share private information about their disability with total strangers. It is appreciated when parents instruct their children about the dog teams and teach them it is important not to distract the dog because it is working and doing an important job for its owner.<br />
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Not every handler is opposed to speaking with people, but what has been most appreciated by myself, if someone must interact with us, is for them to speak directly to me, a quick compliment on Heath’s behavior. Even my husband and family are not allowed to interact with Heath when he is working, other than to hold him at the hospital until I am out of surgery or X-rays.<br />
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We are often told “It’s obvious he is a REAL Service Dog. He’s so well behaved!”<br />
Last week it was “I’ve seen a lot of dogs that don’t belong in here. That is one good dog, he belongs”<br />
We've worked hard to achieve the level of training he has and it's nice to be recognized.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Y0qxTqb1a0vdPOo_yNaLjUPRrkO1Td7hNTs0WD1jDXOG7vZX0DF8sOre_vzH-h7AkZfScSII5txkdgetgJig-jiGmYN8ebDAmEfaMZKRLQ2-MSJ7JD8XtNI58KVbhUvc3ZpoyDJoeks/s1600/IMG_2079.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Y0qxTqb1a0vdPOo_yNaLjUPRrkO1Td7hNTs0WD1jDXOG7vZX0DF8sOre_vzH-h7AkZfScSII5txkdgetgJig-jiGmYN8ebDAmEfaMZKRLQ2-MSJ7JD8XtNI58KVbhUvc3ZpoyDJoeks/s400/IMG_2079.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heath having fun with his brother while "off duty" on one of our road trips</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx2rAiiJ5YFzMDjm6zVSjeTWVaGge5GFDXsiUbdmaF_EvynOOL72FvpZ3izWzmNYinY3fbIp_RmW_LYUezgF8OhZx45I2QbaCkufXJypIhO7EycdKiZNgp_daZaWBrEG5kEKw9jWuo2Ag/s1600/IMG_2142.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx2rAiiJ5YFzMDjm6zVSjeTWVaGge5GFDXsiUbdmaF_EvynOOL72FvpZ3izWzmNYinY3fbIp_RmW_LYUezgF8OhZx45I2QbaCkufXJypIhO7EycdKiZNgp_daZaWBrEG5kEKw9jWuo2Ag/s400/IMG_2142.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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So, to the Public, please don't interfere with Service Dogs that are working.<br />
To the Business owner, if a dog is misbehaving and causing problems, you have the right ask the the handler to please remove the dog and return without it.<br />
To the Pet Owner, please leave your pets at home. Their behavior may not only endanger a team, but makes it more difficult for legitimate teams to be accepted by the public.<br />
To the Service Dog Teams, be considerate of others. Don't allow your dog to become disruptive. Don't disregard the rights of others, and don't be rude to people who want to ask questions, instead try to educate them, politely, because your behavior also reflects on all Teams. We are all ambassadors.<br />
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peteyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04842363901612535790noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6450899713878614950.post-36350310184088280962017-09-14T11:42:00.001-07:002017-09-14T11:47:08.140-07:00A Trip and Fall on the Way<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVqazD7-ecYlsyWv_4hRMRdjyShW-Vmn0VJkYamJwmIgmJxWq44IbTfBdedOvI2AJQwQWCLCMWZoDh7ZQfiXD5whzc88lhVB9Z7Ii8xsI_UQ1Mc-zYyCc2bkOeye0eST3aXyF7qm6gyhE/s1600/IMG_1512.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVqazD7-ecYlsyWv_4hRMRdjyShW-Vmn0VJkYamJwmIgmJxWq44IbTfBdedOvI2AJQwQWCLCMWZoDh7ZQfiXD5whzc88lhVB9Z7Ii8xsI_UQ1Mc-zYyCc2bkOeye0eST3aXyF7qm6gyhE/s640/IMG_1512.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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As most of you know, Heath and I took the Blu Roo and went to California for the last month of summer. It was a fabulous trip, so I thought I would share some of the highlights.</div>
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To begin with, one of my granddaughters was visiting, so I had company besides my Service Dog for the long drive. We packed Roo to the hilt with stuff I was taking down for some of the grandkids and we left as soon as I was able to drive. Other than a Cinnabon in Winnemucca, we didn't stop to eat all day. By the time we made it to Turlock, we were starved. It was dinnertime. I don't know my way around Turlock anymore, even though I used to occasionally compete at ApHC shows there. I suddenly remembered that Heath has a sister in town, so I had my granddaughter message her owner on FB for me, and we met up for an impromptu dinner date, after Heath and his sister had a short reunion.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heath and his sister Lark, an agility competitor</td></tr>
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We had a great time at dinner and Lark's owner was a really good sport about the total lack of forewarning that we were coming.</div>
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A few hours more and we made it to my granddaughter's home. It was neat to see all of the creative improvements they made on the house, and fun to be in the midst of a family again, with all of the laughter that goes with it. We stayed most of the week, my daughter-in-law graciously taking care of me as most of the time I was recovering from the drive. When I was stronger we all took a drive up to where they often camp and go boating. Heath, happily followed Hannah into the river, a big surprise as he doesn't like water, but he apparently likes being hot even less. He also really likes Hannah, who took care of him at the hospital while I was in surgery. My son treated us all to ice cream and candy at a nifty little shop, where Heath diligently protected us from a large stuffed gorilla with his low, threatening growls and then we headed back.</div>
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We passed the stables of an old competitor friend when I was showing clients horses on the circuit, so I mentioned if they were considering riding lessons for the girls, she'd be a good fit.</div>
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And so it was.</div>
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We also spent an evening out with a daughter and her family for dinner, the night before we headed down further south. Another granddaughter was also with us, but I didn't get a pick as she and her friend quickly snuck out and took my car to be washed before we got back. Sneaky, sneaky...</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The littlest</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the boys, preparing to dash....</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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That night, for my grand finale, I managed to trip over a sprinkler and splatter all across their front lawn, requiring my son and a neighbor to hoist me back up and drag me into the house. We can't let them forget me too easily, can we?? </div>
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We headed to my younger sons and wound up staying at an in-laws with him as he had promised to help put in sod the next morning. Heath had a great time with 4 kids to entertain him. We also got to go to church, which was a huge blessing as it has been 10 years, there not being any where we live, for obvious reasons...</div>
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There was also a lot of fishing going on... back at the ranch my son works for and lives at...</div>
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Heath and I mostly stupidvised from the top of the hill.</div>
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We eventually made it up to my old home town and met some friends who I've been talking with on the internet for years, but never met in person before. It was great! I also got to meet with a couple of different friends I have not seen in years....</div>
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And more grandkids, who kept me entertained for at least a week!<br />
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More kids, grandkids, it was a busy month. We sewed, embroidered, played xbox, went to swim lessons, boxing lessons, riding lessons...all the things I have missed living so dang far away.<br />
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Heath also had a great time. We played in water, went shopping, out to eat, to parks, played with all the kids, played with the family dogs, and then, after a short trip back up to my oldest son's for a day or two, we headed to Northern Calif to see my cousins that I haven't seen in wayyyy too long.<br />
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My cousins' beautiful wife (which of course is also my cousin) took us on the most amazing day trip I've ever been on. The beauty of Creation was exquisite!! <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyr63B0BtWC-7owv0UbGKo3bOIhylRwFLTQ0nv106kGmTtO11oJ5hnqSHnfRqapgb7qmWbRF9v2Mh5eFrYrcuR4RY8eJSMB_CXI3H-uGrXuSmXU7KuqoqsW72iiR5FCf4fueLHga0bS_s/s1600/IMG_1930.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyr63B0BtWC-7owv0UbGKo3bOIhylRwFLTQ0nv106kGmTtO11oJ5hnqSHnfRqapgb7qmWbRF9v2Mh5eFrYrcuR4RY8eJSMB_CXI3H-uGrXuSmXU7KuqoqsW72iiR5FCf4fueLHga0bS_s/s400/IMG_1930.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Even Heath was in awe at the Redwood Nat'l Forest</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We stopped along the coast</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We love this woman!</td></tr>
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It was a soul restoring month. I felt welcomed and cherished everywhere we went. I had to head home a few days sooner than I had hoped, as I got sick and knew I would get worse before I got better, but I hope to go back soon. Meanwhile...<br />
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Heath and I are still wondering why one cannot Pee between signs...</div>
peteyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04842363901612535790noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6450899713878614950.post-2536380660639625642017-08-20T11:05:00.000-07:002017-08-20T11:05:08.650-07:00A Change of Season<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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When I started this blog, it was Range to Range as I was slowly losing the ability to ride and be out where I wanted to be, and was spending more time in the kitchen, trying out recipes, making milk products and homemade meals in an attempt to fill my days.<br />
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<br />As the years have passed, my disease has been looming larger and taking away more and more of what I love in life and leaving me feeling much like an empty shell. I couldn’t blog because my state of mind was nothing I would want to share with anyone, nor anything you would care to read. My life is changing again, so although there will be a little about ranching and livestock, I will share the life I’ve been given, such as it is.<br /><br />As my readers know, I now am dependent on a Service Dog to help me through the normal activities of my day, that I can no longer manage on my own. I would like to expand a little on how he assists me, as it is doubtful there will be many entries in the future that don’t include Heath.<br />
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<br />Unable to bend over and reach the floor anymore, Heath hands me anything I drop (which happens more and more often as my hands become more involved) and anything I point and ask for. On really painful days when I cannot get up, he brings me my pillow and blanket. I consistently forget to take my medications, and mid day cannot remember if I took them or not as I am easily distracted or confused, so Heath brings them to me the minute I wake up, and stays with me until I take them, then he puts them back on the table where he prefers to keep them. That in itself has been a tremendous help. He also brings them to me at night, as there are meds that have to be taken at certain times of the day. I know when it’s almost bedtime because he hands them to me. <br /><br />He picks up all the dirty laundry and hands to me so I can put it in the rolling hamper and he takes the clothes out of the dryer as I cannot bend far enough to get them, especially things like socks, where even he has to crawl in to reach them. He’s doing a good job pushing the buttons that open doors for wheelchairs, although I am not yet in need of him to do so. He already does a good job walking along beside a wheelchair as I have to use the scooters in the store, unable to walk that much. Better to get the training done before it becomes critical. There are always new tasks that I find I need to teach him, such as flushing a commercial toilet, helping me to undress, and bring my attention to my scratching as my skin always itches and I tend to scratch till I bleed.<br />Over the years, I have lost my ability to do many things, and medications as well as disease both changed my body.I no longer wanted to see people or go out. I hated shopping, refused to join the parties on the ranch and Lord have mercy on anyone who points a camera in my direction. I’ve always been a ‘loner’, but I was becoming a recluse. A very unhappy, depressed and pain-wracked recluse. Heath has made huge changes in my life.<br /><br />After 10 years, I got myself a phone, got a drivers license and bought a car. I enjoy going to town with Heath and doing the shopping or whatever, as he is always so happy to serve and seems to love new places. I no longer suffer from anxiety being out in public, because people tend to focus on Heath, not on me or what I look like.<br />
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<br />The boss wants me to get rid of my animals. I had already planned to get rid of most of them as I cannot take care of them anymore, but they were not selling fast enough, so all our cows went to a sale one day, and the sheep another. There's not much reason for the kids to come visit anymore. Their highlights of the trips were gathering eggs, playing with and feeding the lambs, goats and calves, milking the cow and the other stuff they could only do where we lived. <br />
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We held back 2 lambs for our freezer, one for the dogs and 2 ewes and the ram to send to a friend we worked a deal with so we will still get our 2 lambs a year. Bruno and Mr Potamus are not very thrilled with this decision, but it wasn’t mine or theirs to make. Without a flock to protect, they now live in the yard and house, much to my dismay, as they constantly loose enormous clumps of white hair on the carpet and make a challenging obstacle course in our very small house for me to try and negotiate. As I am not allowed to seek outside help to get the house and yard clean, which is beyond my abilities, I found my life was easier to just leave the ranch and take a long running road trip with Heath.<br />
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<br /><br />It’s been a great month, and has been good for me. TheMan has agreed that I will come home for awhile and then take another road trip whenever life there becomes too overwhelming. I don’t know how long I will be able to exercise this option, as we don’t know when the disease will render me unable to drive, but until then, I hope to make the most of it! I will be able to make up for all the time I lost seeing my grandkids and my kids. I will meet some of the people who have encouraged me on FB for the past several years, and hopefully, I will see parts of the country I’ve never had the opportunity to see.<br />
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<br />Here’s to the future!<br />
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peteyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04842363901612535790noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6450899713878614950.post-8047687343954034692017-04-01T17:15:00.001-07:002017-04-03T21:02:42.885-07:00Roo's First Road Trip and A Few Repairs<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gunner and The Heathen</td></tr>
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It’s been a CRAZY winter, as all of you know. I finally have a car and was ready to hit the road with Heath. I planned to stop and see my Brother and niece. We got to their new house where my brother has mother-in-law quarters, so to speak, and Heath was excited to see his doggy-friend Gunner, that he met when my brother came up last year. What he wasn't ready for was meeting my niece's two elderly golden retrievers. One of them, Ruger, decided Heath did not belong there and chased him until Heath found a safe spot under my car. I was glad to see that he was smart enough to get himself out of what could have been a bad situation.<br />
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Once they were formally introduced, the dogs all got along fine. The 2 Golden Retrievers and the Yellow Lab all walking around, content with mouthfuls of soft frisbees. They use them like pacifiers. Heath, on the other hand, just wanted to rough house and play with someone. As Gunner spun in circles protecting his toy, which he thought was Heath’s target, Heath gleefully pinched and gently pulled his ears, which were his real targets. It’s how he punishes the Maremmas at home, when they come to close to me, wanting attention. He grabs and pulls their ears. Never hard enough to make them squeal, but enough to be annoying. After a yummy spaghetti casserole made by my brother and a couple of rum and cokes, we were ready for bed.<br />
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They had a nice big reclining chair for me to sleep in, which made a strange noise when it reclined, but everything was great until 2 something-o'clock-in-the-morning when Heath quietly sneaked up the stairs into the MASTER bedroom to chase their cat around. My nephew-in-law came down the stairs behind a speeding and contrite looking sheppie and I apologized and spent the rest of the night insisting that Heath sleep on the chair with me, which he begrudgingly did. The next morning when I got up, the chair made an even louder awful noise and I was horrified to see that it had apparently been too close to the wall and one corner of it had pushed through, making a large hole in the drywall...of their brand spanking new house.<br />
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It had been raining steadily for days, and their back yard, which was too new to be landscaped was a muddy sinkhole. They had sectioned off a small area and filled it with gravel so the dogs had someplace to potty. They would all go out together, the two old male Goldens both squatters, and Gunner a lifter. There was a nice wooden post just a few steps in that made a perfect faux fire hydrant that Gunner appreciated. We opened the glass doors and let Heath out with the rest of the boys. However he found the barbecue leg more appealing, much to the distress of my nieces who loudly said, “OH NO HEATH!” <br />
No she wasn't really yelling at him and she wasn't really angry but he is super sensitive and took it that way anyhow. He curled his tail between his legs and began slinking back to the house. I caught up to him and talking to him reassuringly, led him out to the gravel area. He refused to put a foot on the gravel and was obviously quite intimidated by it. I puzzled over this for a moment and realized his memory is quite good. The last time he saw gravel like this was a trip to town when we had let him out to pee. As he jumped into the planter that was full of gravel, all 4 feet were punctured by goathead stickers and he whimpered painfully. We had to lift him up and pick all the stickers out of his feet. As his mama didn't raise no dummy, he wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. I had to push him onto this gravel so he could see that it was safe. After that, he had no problem competing with Gunner to see who could cover the stick the highest. Potty problem solved.<br />
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Next day Hwy 20, where I was heading to see my friend, was closed and washed out, so I changed my plans and was going to go visit my cousin on the West side of California. Then the snow and mud slides closed I-80 overnight. If I could sneak by and just get down to Sacramento I could take Highway 5 up to Williams. I was leery of I-80 when it opened as there were already 3 wrecks reported the first 20 miles, so I opted instead to spend another day with my brother and my niece. That day, Williams flooded and the Oroville dam was still in danger of breaking. I am grateful that I heeded the still, small voice, because all of Northern California flooded and the roads were a mess. I definitely dodged a bullet.<br />
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It looked like our only option was to head back home before we caused any more havoc at my niece and brother's new house.<br />
It was snowing when I left Reno for the 5 hour trek home. It turned to rain outside of town and rained all the way home. By the time I got to Winnemucca, I was flaring painfully and shaking. I was tired, and weak and didn’t have much strength to work with. I called TheMan and told him I couldn’t make it home, I was too weak and in too much pain to manage the 3 more hours of remote desert driving. Heath and I went into a Mexican restaurant we were parked next to at a casino and I had lunch while he napped under the table. It was relaxing and restorative. I took my time, feeling no pressure, and no anxiety because Heath was near and by the time we were done, I felt well enough to make it home.<br />
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So went our first big excursion away from home on our own. It wasn’t quite what I had hoped, but it was a good start. It turns out that when I lifted my saddle several months ago, hurting my right arm it was more than just a tiny little tear in my bicep. Instead, I tore my whole bicep tendon loose at the head of the femur, and 3 of the 4 large muscles that make up the rotator cuff are torn through and badly atrophied, so I just had surgery to make what repairs they could. The doc said he thinks he has bought me some time before I require a complete replacement.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heath making sure Lamby doesn't try to sit with me...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heath watching over me while we have car worked on after Dr appt</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">HannahBanana feeds Lamby</td></tr>
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One of my grandaughters came up to help me after surgery. It made for a great 2 weeks, as her cheerfulness was even more valuable than her helpfulness and that was generous. We had a bummer lamb born just before my surgery, so she took care of bottle feeding her as well as feeding the Heathen and helping feed us. I don't think I would have fared well that first two weeks without her as it was pretty painful and needed icing around the clock. Now I am waiting to heal and figure out what is next for us. Hope its something good!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heath watches over Hannah</td></tr>
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peteyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04842363901612535790noreply@blogger.com6