I'll get you closer!

Just got back from Grand River below the Pensacola Dam. We've had quite a lot of rain, causing GRDA to be running full generation and to open several floodgates. Time to go catfishing! I don't fish, but I read, hook up to tree limbs if Larry wants to wet a line, and give my Kodak easyshare a workout. It's tough sometimes to get pictures of wildlife because, well, it's wild and unapproachable. Don't have telephoto capabilities, but Larry tries to indulge me whenever possible and detour toward the banks. We passed a hole up on the mud bank, and Larry thought something was in there. There were two of them, whatever they were.

"I can see something, but I'm not close enough!" I whined as I looked through the viewfinder.

"I'll get you closer," replied the ever-helpful Loved One.

One of the critters made a break for it.

"It's a beaver!"

"I can't see it very well," I claim, still focused on the tiny viewfinder. "Can you get me closer?"

"I'll get you closer," came the resigned, long-suffering relpy.

Yep, it's a beaver alright! Now, the thing about boats is that when they are gliding in a direction, they don't necessarily stop on a dime. We continued toward the bank, I snapped one more photo and raised my face from the viewfinder.....

YIKES! All I can think of is Jeff Foxworthy telling a story about some guy getting his nipple bitten OFF by a BEAVER! And those are some scary orange teeth right there!

Fortunately for me, the fight/flight choice was for flight. I looked for less scary subjects. How about birds? I love the egrets and herons that populate the shores.

I can't get too close to them though. It does amaze me that such a beautiful, graceful creature can produce such a harsh, discordant utterance. I would think they would produce something more melodious, not the jarring croaking that comes out of them.

Anyway, it was a good trip: cool weather, deserted campground, 18 catfish, 1 drum, and a big ol' carp that was fun to catch and throw back.

Visitors

The feeders are going! They look a bit like alien invaders, but they are actually barrels on legs filled with whole corn and fitted with a device that throws the corn out at set intervals. We start them up, three of them, every year at this time and keep them going until around late February or so. It's a hunter thing. Other landowners around here have feeders going in addition to food plots planted just for game attraction. There are no croplands close by. That's part of the attraction of the property for me-- no chemicals running off onto my place. However, it limits food availability for wildlife.

During the fall, feeders attract game animals to the property, and they help the animals make it through the winter. As is the case with all hunter sponsored wildlife activities, non-game animals benefit also. Once the feeders are going and there are signs of activity, it's time for the trail cameras. They are motion activated and have a flash for nighttime. Pictures include a date and time stamp to identify patterns. Although this big boy came in during the morning, once the season starts he'll become more nocturnal, coming in after shooting hours.

Hopefully, these bandits will keep visiting the feeders instead of visiting the henhouse. Other critters-- rodents, rabbits, and squirrels--sometimes attract predators. We've seen bobcats and a fox on trailcam pics.

Yes, a hunter would gladly harvest the buck, but a doe with a spotted fawn? Uh-uh. A barren doe? Sure. Turkeys? Sure, if the season is open. Somehow during the spring turkey season, these guys are not on the place. It's good to see these guys though because few hunters had a shot at a turkey this last season. Proves there're some still around.

We only harvest animals we're going to eat. I'm not too fond of squirrel or rabbit, so as far as I'm concerned, those guys are safe. Other pictures show crows, bluejays, and other birds. One picture showed an armadillo visiting. I really enjoy looking at trailcam pictures.....ahhhhhhhh, the country life!

They're everywhere!

This year hasn't quite equaled the bumper crop of last year, but there certainly is no shortage of thistles. We're after 'em though! Just when ya think you've got 'em, more appear. Actually, they're not so easy to spot at a distance until they bloom. They are kinda pretty.
The purplish flowers are attractive--love the color, but, according to North American Wildlife, "It is against the law in 37 states to allow the Canada Thistle to grow on one's land." Yep, it's noxious.

Maybe this isn't a Canada Thistle; maybe it's an Okie Thistle. Maybe this isn't one of the 37 states; maybe there's a whole lot of lawlessness goin' on. Hmmmmmm....






Anyway, I'm acuttin' 'em! Don't want any more of them.


Now, a neighbor, who's a farmer, told Larry Loved One that once they bloom, it's too late to cut them; they'll come back anyway.

The guy said that the buds are actually seeds.

What?!?!??

Now, my undergraduate major was English, not botany; but HUH? I thought the process went bud, bloom, seed in that order.
These buds have seeds in 'em? Seed, bud, bloom? Really???? Never would have thought this guy was into alternative, illegal crops, but what's he smokin'? I just don't believe it, and I'm cuttin' 'em if I see 'em.
And what the heck is this thing? I was riding down a trail on the estate hunting thistles and spotted this plant. I'm sure it's noxious. Never have seen one before and have only seen this one. I looked in North American Wildlife, but didn't find it. The Loved One says it's a Yellow Tower Flower Plant.

Whatever....

P.S. Shortly after I started the blog, I read Jeffrey Deaver's Roadside Crosses. Deaver is one of my favorite authors. Features a blogger...Kinda scary...made me think about a few things I should be careful of. Highly recommend anything by Jeffrey Deaver!

Remember the ThighMaster?

I'm looking for mine.
Suzanne Somers plugged the device and testified that it would firm and reshape all those jiggles in the lower hemisphere. I was younger and more foolish then....thought there might be hope. I somehow convinced myself that if I bought one, I would use it. Learned nothing from the ankle weights, the exercycle, or the Nordic Rider. This contraption was simple and inexpensive, not to mention easily stored and portable! How could I fail?
How about by not using it? Despite the alluring visions of myself with Suzanne's bod, it was too Hard! Not FUN, WORK! She never grimaced when demonstrating the wonders of ThighMaster reps. What was I doing wrong? Nevermind, pitch it out in the garage! No, no! The Loved One might see it out there and give me grief. Under the bed! He'll never look there!
You know, I even think I moved it with all my worldly possessions more than once. But where is it now? The list of places it isn't is growing. Surely I didn't throw it out! A treasure like that? As soon as ya throw something out, you're gonna want it! I know better!
So, why am I looking for the darn thing? Well, I need it! No concern about jiggles, no illusions about Suzanne's bod. It's simple, really. I need to strengthen my inner thigh muscles.
What???
No, really, I do! You see, every other time, I ride Flicka with a bareback pad, trying to make sure she'll ride with the saddle or pad. Good for her because there is less weight; bad for me because of the inner thigh muscle thing. Why? According to the saddlemaker guy, Flicka has narrow withers. That means I have to clamp on harder with, you guessed it---inner thigh muscles. Those seem to have gone the way of all flesh, and I need to build those muscles up. Right now I am only riding for a short while so I don't get too sore. Flicka doesn't mind at all; apparently, a walk in the woods is not as enjoyable when lugging me around. What sort of exercise builds inner thigh muscle strength? ThighMaster! Where is it? The Loved One thinks it's out in the garage. I looked, but obviously not as well as he can.
We'll see....

...and a river runs through it.

Well, a stream, actually. Big Sugar Creek, to be more precise.

Wanderlust struck, reinforced by logic. Huh? School has just started, people are reeling from back-to-school expenses and are saving for that last Labor Day fling. What better time to go canoe floating? With Friday off work, a fresh pay day, and a beautiful weather forecast, it's the only logical thing to do. There had been some recent heavy rains in the area, and Larry felt that the rivers would be muddy. I have to bow to the expertise of anyone whose sender name on his email that he never checks is "River rat." Seriously, would you open an email from that moniker? We checked out a river or two anyway, and, yep--muddy. Then, a mere two hours from home, we found Canoe Sugar Island (CSI--what a catchy name!). There were several full-time campers parked there, but with the exception of the owner's son, who claimed illness and a need to get someone else to drive us to a launching point, there were no other canoers. Yea!! Private canoeing! It's not often you get the water to yourself unless heavy duty protective gear and a foolhardy nature are required. The water was crystal clear and the weather was absolutely beautiful!

Larry caught a few small mouth bass, and we saw a groundhog and these horses. Wonder why they don't wander off. The water is shallow and we never saw any fencing. I've had to take a four-wheeler to round-up goofy Dezi when he has gotten the urge to explore. What keeps these critters contained?

After about five glorious hours on the water with only one very short portage, we returned to camp. And some moron was using a leaf blower around his trailer. Really! Who takes a leaf blower to "get away from it all"? Obviously at least one guy does. We moved to a more remote campsite, easy to do with a motor home. We sat out listening to the water 'til dark, had a good night's sleep, and came home to take care of animals. Great outdoor adventures close by!

Next adventure? As soon as I post this, I'm getting out a four-wheeler and going thistle hunting! Despite my careful cultivation and subsequent destruction of 6' tall, tiny blooming velvetleaf plants, I am no lover of noxious weeds. Thistles are starting to bloom, and we get rid of them before they go to seed. Thistles and red cedars don't feed anything, so they are just taking up space--gotta go!

I am...

a walking, talking Larry-the-Cable-Guy joke. I went out to the swap meet last Saturday to "git me somethin' nice fer my birthday!" Found some treasures: a 16x20 picture frame for $1 and this lovely piece of furniture for $10. "Ain't it purty?" I think it was once a cabinet used for filing papers; there was one paper tray left in it. There was also a record album on the remaining shelf. Maybe there were too many records put in it, and the weight broke the shelves. Anyway, I'll be stripping it down and painting it. I'm thinking of staining the legs, painting the top to resemble marble, and painting landscapes representing the four seasons on the sides. Then I'll find it a home. I have no use for it; it's just something to do. I need projects!









The technological nightmare that lurks everywhere has surfaced at the pharmacy. The last two days at work have been horrendous. There is a computer system utilized at two stations to bring up customers' orders, get identification when required, obtain signatures for insurance, and check the medications out. Neither one worked! Most people aren't thrilled to be getting medications anyway; add a whole lot of waiting and inconvenience and things can get downright ugly. As the cashier, I'm the one in the danger zone, a target right on my forehead evidently. If looks could kill, I'd have been an early casualty. Good thing I was off work today because I'd have had a hard time making myself go in. Hopefully the stuff will be working tomorrow. This keeps up, I could have a meltdown!





Even when the equipment is working, there are plenty of unhappy campers. Sometimes doctors don't call in prescriptions in a timely fashion, or the busy pharmacists don't check the messages exactly when they come in. Many customers seem to be suffering from CoUD ( Center of the Universe Disorder) in addition to whatever malady took them to a physician in the first place. One guy yesterday gave me attitude in reply to my information that I had nothing ready for him. "Well, I was standing right there when he called. This is ------- isn't it?"


"No, it's the effing moon!" my inner self silently replied. My inner self could alienate a whole boatload of customers if it ran amok.


Just another day in paradise. One unhappy gentleman did seriously bother me though. When he first came to the counter, there was one prescription ready and two in the process. He said he would wait to get all three and come back. Unfortunately, one of the three could not be filled because we have had difficulty obtaining the med from the suppliers. When he came back, he unloaded on the target in front of him, me. " I am never coming back to this store. I'll take my business elsewhere. You people have done this to me for the last three months! I called the other day and was told my prescriptions would be ready. My daughter drives all the way to get me and bring me to town; I'm practically blind and can't drive anymore!" on and on... He refused the one vial of insulin we had and stormed off. His daughter was standing behind him and mouthed, "I'm sorry," before following her father.


I think Karen probably had similar experiences with Dad. I was 1200 miles away, but I do know that an incredibly polite, rational gentleman became irrational, aggressive and sometimes combative. So very sad. I hope Brian is spared the experience of his parents going through this, but what will be, will be.

40 years and counting....

It was the summer of '69, and a lot was going on. Heard that on the Today show the other morning. The topic was Woodstock, the event, the iconic photo, "where are they now?" and so on. A whole lot was going on for me. I got married, and less than a week later, I celebrated my 19th birthday. WOW! Now I'm turning 59, and Larry and I are into the 41st year looking for 50 (ya gotta have a goal!). It has been quite a ride. In 40 years we have only seriously approached dissolution once, which I have to believe if folks have clear unedited memories of their own relationships stands as a pretty good record. We got lucky. Different backgrounds, having known each other less than a year.... What were we thinking??? Whatever it was, it has worked out well. I could only wish equal good fortune to others. Though we have had disputes, we also have a wonderful son, the best thing ever in my life. I am currently reading Baldaci's new book, First Family, in which one character tells another, "...boys will mess with your heart and girls with your head." Not having raised a girl, I can't speak to that, but Brian clearly has my heart. I'm not sure what a "soulmate" is, but for 40 years, Larry has always been there for me. I can't say that of anyone else.

Lots of changes in 40 years! We have gotten older, wiser, heavier, grayer, and are missing important people from these photos. Our parents have all passed away, my Dad having been the last to go in January of 2007. We miss them. Truly have to stand on our own now. Larry and Steve have remained best friends, but Leslie and I have grown apart. Sad :(

Life is good. Working at the pharmacy, I see lots of older people caring for a spouse. I hope we can maintain good health. I was talking to Brian the other evening about living and working conditions, and he said, "Anyway, it's all temporary; enjoy it!" Pretty astute for a 30 year old. I'm going to try to live in the moment more.

The Only Good 'Possum....

is a dead 'possum. I hate 'em. Larry is pretty proud that he has done away with 18 of the critters with two bullets. Why the attitude when it comes to 'possums? Well, before the animal rights activists hunt me down, it should be noted that no one minds if they are running around the majority of the 33 acres. However, when we have no tomatoes because they are pilferred from the garden, a number of ripening cantalope are clawed and chewed, broken eggs are found, AND a kitten has been taken, it's time to trap 'em. Using a humane trap set in the garden at night, Larry first trapped one 'possum, shot it in the head, and noticed movement in the belly area. Turned out to be 7 babies, which were bucketed. We were still losing produce, so the trap was set again. Caught another 'n! Once again, a shot to the head and movement. This time there were 9 little ones, which were immediately dispatched. Score 18 varmints for Larry. No more trapped, but there has to be a male around here somewhere. Fortunately, we are produce swapping with neighbors. Swapped peppers and cantalope for cherry tomatoes and squash, and eggs and cantalope for sweet corn. It'll be awhile before we have more tomatoes ripe, but we're eating a bunch of zucchini and corn, and Larry has already made salsa and some pickles. Yes, Larry has ventured into the wonderful world of food preservation. The produce was piling up, and Larry just had to do something with it. The man has too much time on his hands.

OMG! I got home from work the other night and went out to see the ponies, as I usually do. Now, little white Dezi did need his hair trimmed. We've had him and Lucy for two years now. When we got them, Dezi was really spooky. His forelock/mane hair was so long that only his little nose stuck out the bottom, but he couldn't see. If anything touched him, it startled him because he couldn't see it coming. He has gotten much better since we have kept his hair trimmed. It did need trimming,but sheesh! Oh well, it's just hair; it'll grow back.

Then Flicka walked around the corner. GASP! I gasped and Flicka startled. Typical of a prey animal, her first reaction to my alarm was, "What's gonna eat me?!!" Actually, it just looked as if something had chewed on her forelock. Larry!!!! Whatever possessed him? There was no vision compromised; in fact, she looked pretty. Did look pretty anyway. Into the house I went.

"Larry, why???"

"What?" Mister Innocence replied.

"Why did you feel compelled to cut Flicka's hair?"

"She wanted me to," Larry insisted. (???????) "I was cutting Dezi's hair, and she came over and kept rubbing her head against me. She wanted a haircut too."

OK...whatever....

" It'll be back the way it was in a week or two," he said.

Yeah, in a month or two! Larry now has strict instructions not to cut Flicka's hair...EVER!

Lucy apparently didn't want her hair cut. Good for her!

Dezi continues to dream the impossible dream. Little stud with two tall mares. You can see that the black mare is a bit taller. For two years now Dezi has chased her around with no resulting patter of little hooves. Now, Flicka is quite a bit taller, but Dezi tries anyway. She'll stand for him and chase him around when he's tuckered out. You can see a little nose on her rump occasionally, but as I said, the impossible dream. A friend of mine said I could dig a ditch for her to stand in. What???? I think not.

I went to see Wicked with some friends from Community Theatre on Sunday. I loved it, loved it, loved it. Live theatre completely absorbs me like nothing else. The sets, the lighting, the costuming... like nothing I have ever had the resources to participate in presenting. Drama requires only material to perform, actors, and an audience; and those basics are about all I've ever had to work with. But this...WOW. I found the story compelling (I hadn't already read the book; that comes next), and the acting convincing. The music wasn't ear worm material; I didn't come away humming a melody. But it was appropriate to the storyline and kept the focus on some very good messages. I enjoyed the dancing; the flying monkeys not so much. Hey, flying monkeys are scary! Larry says they're stupid, not scary. When I was a little kid watching The Wizard of OZ , those suckers were scary! Anyway, I thoroughly enjoyed myself and should treat myself to this level of performance more often. If I can just find some like-minded folks ready to shell out the bucks...

I Don't Know Why...

I don't know why people make choices. Friends, living arrangements, life partners, professions,.... So many choices to be made. What about hobbies? What causes a person to choose an activity to fill unscheduled time? Many seem to choose challenge as criteria. Can I do it? Can I climb that mountain, ride that bull, win that race, on and on and on. There are worlds and worlds of activities out there, for many of which we have no concept. Take paintballing, for example. Every June thousands of participants converge on 600+ acres in rural Oklahoma for what is billed as the world's largest scenario paintball game.

Yes, thousands from across the US and around the world. People from Germany and Australia have attended, among others. I wouldn't know about it except that Brian has worked as a staffer out there for years during the event. His rock crawler is used to keep an eye on what goes on back in the woods and to get lost stragglers in at night. He is kind of an all-around guy who does all sorts of things for the owner. This past June over 6,000 checked in during the week long event. Three semi-truck loads of paintballs were used, millions of 'em. The participants must purchase paintballs of a certain color at the event. Entry fees, camping, food and drink at the restaurant, vendor rental space, and equipment sales make the event a major source of income for the owners. Ya gotta give the guy credit for figuring out a way to produce income from land that is agriculturally marginal at best.






















In addition to the pipe and railroad tie conglomerations used as points of defense, a number of structures are scattered about for the games. This is a picture of one of the structures put up in an area representing a village. It's used in the D-Day game, as well as in others such as Blackhawk Down. That's a lot of concrete block set for a game.

This other structure represents a church in the same village. Just a few guys, Larry among them, got together to pour the concrete on the second story. Again, a whole lot of work to play a game it seems to me.

So, there's a place, a game plan, a whole lot of participants, and a desire to run around and shoot little balls of paint at a pretty fair velocity at each other. As I said, I don't know why....

In addition to the prospect of bruising from paintball strikes, players deal with bugs, including the ever popular chiggers; poison ivy and poison oak; sometimes unbearable heat; and occasional rain. And this is FUN! A great time! Worth the trip!

I don't know why.

Boys and their toys....

The D-Day Adventure Park is also the site of several motorsport events. Most recently the annual Bike and Jeep rally was held. The above vehicles are little-modified examples of wheelin' rigs. These are probably roadworthy, as is our Cherokee. Yet it is amazing the places they get driven. Why? To see if ya can, I guess.

These guys are barely recognizable as Jeeps. Most start out as Wranglers, but the current machine has little of the original Jeep left. Huge tires with bead locks require beefed up axels and so forth.
The object seems to be to drive in the most unlikely place and not break down. Our Cherokee is just meant to get us to the places to watch the big boys make attempts. I honestly think some of these rigs could drive up the side of a house and over if there was no overhang to stop them. There is a social aspect to it too. These guys wheel in groups, which is a necessity to help out when someone breaks down or turns over.

You can see how a person might roll down one of these hills. They wheel at night out here too. Adds another dimension, I guess. I wasn't there, but Brian rolled his rig Friday night. The thing about it is that they aren't going fast, and Brian and his passenger wear five-point harness. That's in addition to the cages added to the stock vehicles. As a matter of fact, Brian fabricated the cage on the yellow jeep in the foreground. That jeep used to be painted like a black and white cow before this owner repainted. Anyway, after working with electricity and amonia, racing motorcycles, and riding hurtling- death-machine four-wheelers, rock crawling is one of Brian's safest hobbies yet.

Also Friday night, some guy was out in the park by himself (not wise--rookie mistake) and he broke down. After wandering around in the woods for awhile, he made it back to camp. Problem was he had so disoriented himself that he wasn't sure where the jeep was. He also had a motorcycle and wanted to go on the poker run, so he just went and decided to find the jeep later. Go figure.

This orange and blue tiger-striped rig is Brian's. It's actually not the most recent incarnation, which has some added features including a longer wheel base. He does all of the work himself, so it's a more affordable hobby for him than it is for most. I heard that most rigs range in price from $16,000 to $150,000. Yep, it's a significant chunk of change. Why do it? I don't know.

On a much more somber note.... Why do people put themselves in harm's way? It's clearly an element of many hobbies. People permanently injure themselves or lose their lives in hobby- related incidents. On Saturday there was a fatality accident at the event. Things got really bad really fast. Jeeps and trucks were running down through the mud in an area marked off for the activity. The boundaries of the run are separated from spectators by big concrete pipes lined up as a barrier. Bleachers are set up for spectators. Past the bleachers some rigs were parked with their front tires up on the pipes. There were people who decided to sit on the pipes thinking that the worst that could happen was a splattering of mud. That would have been the worst had all gone well. Unfortunately that wasn't the case. A fast mud-truck entered the lane revving the motor and showing off. He started through with pedal to the metal, got turned sideways, and evidently thought he could ride it out. He didn't let off on the gas, the truck jumped the barrier, and it turned over on some spectators. I knew someone had to be dead out of that deal. A young woman originally from Guam on her first visit to the park lost her life. Five others were injured, one seriously. He was med-flighted out with a broken leg, shattered pelvis, and a head injury. A couple of others left in ambulances. Really bad deal. It was the first incident of that kind of seriousness to occur out there. The events have been going on for years. What was different? Carelessness, I suppose.

Why did it happen? Why those people? I don't know. Maybe just because....

Mama, don't let your babies....

Grow up to be cowboys...

The boys came out Thursday for two days of riding horses and four-wheelers, fishing at the pond, and hanging out with Poppy and Grammy. I worked Thursday, so Poppy was in charge. Thankfully, it wasn't as hot as it has been. Friday morning we got up to go pony riding before the flies got too active. I told Gage that Lucy, the black pony, would follow Flicka, the chestnut I would ride, on the trails. She sometimes pokes along when we lead them back to graze the clearings, and then she rushes to catch up. I warned him that she might just decide she was too far behind and speed up suddenly on her own. She wouldn't run off or anything, and Gage should just hang on. I wasn't considering Gage's "need for speed." He was holding her back and then encouraging her to catch up. I only saw her trot fast. Heaven help her when Gage discovers cantering. She is not likely to be a happy pony. After we rode around a while, Lane came walking along the trail and joined us. He asked his brother if he could ride the pony.

Lane has a bit of an equitation history. Back when he was about 3 years old, we took him to a Pecan Festival at a nearby town. There were pony rides for kids. Lane said he wanted to go on the ride, so we paid the man and chose a likely looking mount. We sat Lane on the pony, and the screaming started. No ride gonna happen! Last year when I led Gage around on Lucy ( I wasn't sure if she had been ridden outside of a pony ride situation), Lane asked if he could get on her. He is more inclined to do stuff if his younger brother has done it first. So, I put a larger saddle on her for him. He got on her, she took about two steps, and Lane said, "OK, that's enough! I'm done!" He did get on her again this spring after I had a boy from the school take the pony and ride her for a few weeks to be sure she was safe. Gage had been riding her around the yard, and all went well. I didn't change the saddle, and Lane climbed aboard. He's way too big for the pony, so I asked him if he wanted to ride Flicka ( she's POA, about 13 hands high, which is about 52"). He declined, but did ride Lucy around a bit. Fastforward a few months....

He kept asking Gage if he could ride, and Gage would only say, "Maybe..." Lane followed us around awhile, all the way up to the 10 acres. I asked him if he wanted to ride Flicka, and I would walk back. Imagine my surprise when he said ,"OK." I guess he had watched enough to decide that she wasn't crazed. He mounted up, and I just walked along at her head. I had told him that it would be easier for him to ride a larger animal, but I guess he thought I was messin' with him. Me?? Anyway, had to get pictures of the groundbreaking experience.

Friday night I went to a class reunion of one of my students' classes, the class of 1989. I had known these kids from their 8th grade year until their graduation from high school. There were 18 in the graduating class. This was why I loved the small schools. In large urban high schools such as the one I attended, teachers and students aren't particularly close since one generally has students one year, and then they move on, depending on the subject matter. I taught English, where this would most often have been the case. At small schools, I had the opportunity to have students year after year and watch their progress. They were definitely "my kids." The reunion was great! I really enjoyed seeing them and their families.

Saturday morning we met Brian as we were on the way to Larry's sister's pool party. Brian had finished some work on his jeep and was on the way to do some wheelin' to check it out. Next weekend there is a bike and jeep rally at a nearby off-road park. Check in for pictures of the rigs! No pictures of the adult entertainment, though. Soooo sorry..... It was great seeing all the friends and family, especially the nieces and nephew "all growed up." The party wasn't as wild as some have been in the past. Probably due to advancing age of the attendees. Hey, it is what it is....

BLOOMS!

OK, blooms. Who would guess that a 6' tall plant with huge, gorgeous leaves would produce single, tiny 1 1/2" blooms that only last a day or so? Not even in clusters! Just single,measly blooms. Who would guess? Well, probably someone who did a little research and discovered that these lovely plants are aggressive weeds hated by farmers. Seems they are velvet leaf plants. Sounds pretty, right? I'm not a farmer who is concerned about nutrients being removed from the soil, but when I read the part about seeds remaining viable in the soil for 60 years.... These seeds must have been in the soil when it was hauled in and became active after I tilled this past spring. Anyway, went out and chopped the tops off them this morning--don't want any more seeds! Another horticultural experiment concluded.

Still enjoying the backyard despite the disappointing flora. Early morning is the best time due to the continuing heat. It also helps to run a fan. The latest addition to what Brian calls the "subdivision" is nearly completed. Back when the house was being built, Larry chose a location for the dog pen...right off my future patio. Not my idea of great, but had to let him have some input. Then came the patio. Not the best thing to sit around facing a dog pen while dogs whine and bark to be let out. The pen was moved to the location I had originally hoped for, leaving behind a nice concrete pad just crying out for a potting shed/cook shack.

Larry's sister Judy had given us a sliding glass door and a front door that she had replaced in her house. We had those and some lumber saved up to recycle. Buy some siding and roofing metal, and it's good to go. Recycled only half of the sliding door glass. The rest will get used at some point. I guess when a person lives in town, there really isn't room for much in the way of outbuildings; but when living out on acreage, there is greater temptation to acquire stuff, which needs to be kept somewhere. I don't know where the whole "subdivision" thing came from. Besides the house, we just have a 40'x30' garage. Oh, and an 8'x12' chicken house. Well, and a 15' square shed for some of the overflow. Then there is the 8'x 12' cabin down by the pond, and now the addition to the back. That's only five outbuildings, not a "subdivision." Surely he isn't counting the two carports.

The other night on America's Got Talent there was a guy who said he had been a chicken catcher. Everyone laughed as if it were a joke, but that is an actual job. I guess no one thinks about it when purchasing that fryer at the grocery store, but those chickens don't just obediently march to their deaths. I guess I wouldn't have had occasion to think about it either, except that there is a chicken farm about two miles south of us. Those big ol' chicken houses hold thousands of birds. Trucks carrying cages come at intervals to haul the birds off. How do you suppose those chickens get into those cages? CHICKEN CATCHERS! We have had to do a bit of chicken catching ourselves lately. Well, chicken and turkey catching actually. We got some chicks this spring because our hens are getting older and not laying eggs so much. We keep about a dozen free range chickens. We got a dozen or so chicks and raised them in a cage. When they got big enough, we turned them loose with the older birds. At night the older birds go into the chicken house, and we close the door. Safe and sound for the night. No worry about marauding 'coons, 'possums, or bobcats. Trouble is the young birds don't know to go in. Takes a couple of weeks of training. The first few nights we go out after dark, locate them, catch them, and put them into the coop. Later they can be kind of herded that direction at dusk, and they will gradually go in on their own. They have all gone in on their own for the last few nights, so I thought we were past chicken catching. Well, we have been giving eggs to a guy up the road for a few years. He has a grandson who is allergic to "store bought" eggs ( I don't know; that's what his mother says). Anyway, he had been saying he was going to bring us some chickens because he knew a guy who had some. He had been saying this for quite a while until it became so much blah, blah, blah. We went ahead and got some ourselves, the aforementioned recently released chicks. Yesterday the guy showed up with 10 young hens. They may be just a bit older than the ones we just turned out. The coop will be overcrowded until the predator feeding program kicks in (that's how we refer to the loss that occurs with free ranging chickens). I guess in a week or so we'll release these new birds from the cage and start chicken catching again. Ahhhh, the country life....

Paint It!

In the last posting I included a picture of a tabletop that I had painted---reuse, recycle. I have painted many surfaces in my house and thought I would post some examples, as well as a few of my more conventional paintings. I designed my home with a home computer program and hired a Menonite building group to put up the structure and dry it in. Serving as contractors, Larry and I hired a plumber for the rough in, HVAC guys, and sheetrockers to rock, mud, and tape the place. We built all of the interior walls and insullated; our son, Brian, did the wiring; and Larry did the finish plumbing, installed electrical fixtures, and ,as he says, followed directions. We also took a cabinetmaking class out at the local Votech center and built our cabinetry. It's a homebuilt home, which is not so tough to do when living in a rural setting. You see, there are no requirements for building permits or inspections out here. Everything meets code when it comes to mechanicals, but no one had to approve anything. It's like the old days when folks just decided what they wanted and built it.

Because we were on a very limited budget, finish work was done over a period of time. When we moved in, we had temporary kitchen and showering facilities and no interior doors. With the use of Home Depot and Lowe's six-month-no-interest credit, we went every six months and got about $600 worth of supplies. We paid it off as we used the materials and then went back for more. Our 2,653 square foot home was built with proceeds from the sale of our previous home, a $30,000 bank loan, and pay-as-you-go finishing. It was also paid off in 5 or 6 years.

So much for background... on with the painting aspect. Of course, we painted all walls in a more or less conventional way, but there was a need to finish the floors. The house is built on a concrete slab. I saw a Christopher Lowell Show on which he painted floors and thought "Why not?" It wasn't as if very much of the house was conventional, so...
Let's start with the bathrooms. The tub was across the road with a bunch of junk, and the owner let me have it for $10!

The wainscoating was a gift from a friend who had a sawmill in Wyoming and brought a pickup load of Ponderosa pine tongue and groove paneling. We used it here and there throughout the house until the last of it went into this bathroom. The floors are painted, as they are throughout the house. Because it was new concrete with no finish, I didn't use any primer on the slab first. It is porous material, so I didn't foresee any problems with paint adhering. I determined what I wanted as a pattern and colors and laid it out on the floor. I used 1/4 inch masking tape from an autobody shop to tape off what would represent grout lines. The original concrete appears to be grout. I just used interior latex wall paint, although the man at a Sherwin Williams store told me I couldn't use that as floor paint. I hate it when someone tells me I can't do something! After painting the desired pattern, carefully pulling up the masking tape before the paint dried, I applied 6 coats of high gloss water-based polyurethane. I did have a bit of a problem because there was fiberglass added to the concrete for strength. Strength is good, but the little hairs of the fiberglass became prickly with the addition of the polyurethane. Not good for bare feet. I did have to sand it off after three coats. That was the only way I came up with to get rid of the prickly stuff. The finish has been down for 8 years now, has never been waxed, and remains just like new. What was originally meant to be temporary until I could put down tile or something has become permanent. It is attractive, I think, and easily maintained. I have just a bit over $500 invested in the flooring finish for the entire house!

The other bathroom had its own issue. No problem on the flooring...just paint it! But the shower was another matter altogether. I have a 3'x8' walk-behind shower. How to finish it out.... Fiberglass panels? No- would have to be custom and wasn't the look I wanted. Tile? No! would have to clean grout lines! What to do, what to do....

Paint it! The floors were painted the same as before. "If it ain't broke, don't fix it!" But, the shower walls had other challenges. I decided to start with greenboard to cover the walls of the shower. Of course, the helpfull guy at Lowes told me I couldn't use greenboard in that application. OOOOOH! I hate being told that. I just told him, "I think I can!" and hauled it home. I installed the greenboard and taped and mudded the joints. Then I painted it with Dry-Lock paint. Hey, if it can be used in swimming pools, why not a shower? After the Dry Lock, I painted it all a lovely sky blue with regular latex wall paint. Then I got out the acryllics and painted clouds, trees, and flora. Why not? Add about 8 coats of polyurethane, caulk the joints in the corners, add poyurethane molding pieces to finish, plumb, and shower!

It has been in service for about 7 years now.

I have had to repaint the

floor of the shower. Too much standing water,

I guess. I repainted it using marine, oil based paint. So far so good. I clean with vinegar and water solution and it seems to holding up well. Not bad for a $250 investment. I figure it's an acceptable risk to try something unconventional that costs little more than a few dollars and some time. I'll get tired of it sometime and do something else.

The rest of the floors in the house vary in color and design, but the process is the same. I have decided that what was intended to be a stop- gap sort of thing until I could afford floorcoverings will become permanent. It is so easily maintained. When you live out in the sticks, a lot of stuff gets tracked in, particulary when it rains, and a little sweeping or mopping makes it as good as new. I have recoated the high traffic areas with more polyurethane since the original coats, but that costs no more than applying a quality wax. There have been a couple of nicks in the floor because of small pebbles coming in on shoes, but a little touch up and poly takes care of that. Kitchen flooring has worked out well too...just paint!

I have really enjoyed the entire process of making my home my own and recommend it to everyone. You have to know that people have made their own dwellings for centuries, and they weren't all geniuses. I say "go for it!"

I have also painted furniture. Buy something dirt cheap at the swap meet (rural folks' garage sales) and paint it. The lamp table was the base of an old desk, I think, that I got for $1.50; and the dresser was more expensive--$20.

I also do more conventional painting. Here's a small gallery...

As a hobby, painting isn't very expensive to get into, doesn't take much space, and is FUN!
Even if you live outside of Podunk, as I do, there are instuctional programs on educational TV. I have found programs on PBS, BYU, and local university channels. I set the DVR to record them and paint along when I have a chance. Once you have some techniques down, find your own subject matter and go for it. I like acrylic painting, but you can find shows on other media and adapt to whatever you want to do.

GO FOR IT!