Pioneers O pioneers....

which one of these is not like the other?

Broccoli sprout..

ROMAINE!

romaine.

What the.....?

Lately we have had some sort of varmint attack our trash, granted its usually only when we have a stray bag sitting next to the big rubber maid outside on the deck but this trash can is by our sliding door with in sight of, ahem, ferocious huskies and rabid spaniels. So I'm thinking it has to be something with chutzpah like a raccoon. Well, one experience with clammy coffee grounds and congealed chicken fat and the new rule is that all stray bags get deposited in my truck bed for dumping the next day. This has worked fabulously until yesterday, when to my great irritation trash was scattered all over the truck bed letting me repeat my ritual of gagging while scraping soggy coffee grounds out of the crevices of my bed liner. Funny how coffee in a cup is Divine, and coffee grounds out of the trash are vile! Anyhow in the thanking god for small favors department, all trash was contained in my truck bed and not strewn about the yard. After much cussing and retching all trash was again contained, so I went inside to gather purse and keys for the dump run. I passed Ms. K lounging on our outdoor furniture. She was sporting a really funny "har do"(that's how we say hair do down south). It was a greasy looking Mohawk. Its been chilly here lately and I worry that Ms. Kitty will take to hiding in the engine compartments of our vehicles for warmth. So of course I had to identify the greasy look and what better way to do that than to smell of it! Hmmmm, definitely not engine grease, in fact it smelled just like chicken with a hint of coffee grounds! That's right folks, Ms Kitty, lapper of organic half and half. Connoisseur of canned cat food. Tuna taster extraordinaire, is a dumpster diver! Ungrateful feline. She at least will suffer the embarrassment of having her picture posted for all to point and giggle at. Cats! such posers.....

Horse Pants Blues

Well, folks I've suffered my last stare, my last stink eye, my last slack jawed scowl! I'm done I tell you, "Hallus"!( "enough", in Lebanese, don't ask me the true spelling... but when pronouncing it , start the "h" way back in your throat like your are gonna hoick a loogie!) Horse pants, otherwise known as breeches in the rest of the modern world, are not a well known article of clothing here on the coast. As the none to friendly stares from the natives have proven to me. The roughest spot so far has been the local gas station but hot on its heels is the Food Lion. I LIVE in horse pants and have happily for a decade. It makes me grumpy that it draws any sort of attention here, where racing home to change my pants before errands is a spleen bruising* waste of time.*See earlier posts on our road.

So, I first tried to remember to pack a pair of jeans with me to change into, this failed in many ways. Key word being the "remember" part. Then when I did manage to bring a pair, I had to parade myself past the very people I'm trying to "spare" the apparent horror that my spandex clad buttocks incites. I tried changing in my truck. I'm not sure, but i think this was even more scandalous. Maybe because a truck full of bubbas pulled up next to me at a crucial part in the concealment process. Anyhow I'm not one to bow to peer pressure, but its getting ridiculous. Down by the university, I blend right in with the yoga crowd. Especially if I change out of my smelly horse boots. But out in the country where 98 percent of my clientele reside? Not so much with the blending in.

The search is on for an acceptable pant that is comfy enough to sit in a truck and hop on a horse. I think I have found it in the Bettona pant from athleta. Get this, its a yoga JEAN! It comes in black and has jean-like stitching , faux zipper,rivets and pockets. I am hopeful. I'll give them the old test run when they arrive next week. Man, this small town living is not for the faint of heart! Who knew everyone has a reputation?

Talkin' Turkey with Tim

So Tim got a job...yep, we are thrilled! He's a salesman.....everyone pick your selves up off the floor and breathe deeply. He is a salesman and.....He loves it! I KNOW! right? Tim talking to strangers, selling to strangers?!...It may mean the end is near , I'm not sure. Anyway, our man Tim, had an interesting meeting this past week at a turkey processing plant. They gave him a tour to help him better understand their needs. Well, imagine, beheaded carcasses flying over head, on hooks. All kinds of chutes and pipes removing the, surplus/less savory parts of the bird, not to mention the "oh-dear" that might go along with all of this meat processing fun. Not something one sees everyday. Especially not something a city boy like Tim has ever seen let alone imagined. Poor man , wasn't sure where to look while trying to breathe unobtrusively through his mouth. He was a bit "off his feed" shall we say, when he left there. When he could finally bring himself to eat in an irony of all irony's he realized I had quite innocently packed him a turkey sandwich! giggle, I swear I didn't know! Well I think he went to Mc D's eventually, but now our thanksgiving is a in jeopardy. We may have to have ham! If there is a pig processing plant between now and what usually is "turkey day" I guess we'll be having the first ever Collins meatless thanksgiving. Tofurkey anyone?

Rain, rain, rain ,rain, rain ( did i say rain?) rain!

Guess what? Its raining outside! Thanks to tropical depression Ida( that booch) Its been raining cats and dogs and gerbils for three days. Dirt roads are almost impassible and paved roads have several rivers crossing over them. Its gloomy, damp and pretty gross out! So Ive been stuck indoors and so have the ponies. The chickens on the other hand are either senseless from the water or are part duck as every time I check on them, they are dragging their sodden feathers around their run bitching loudly about the conditions. I can only hope that they are simply hardier then my old group of poultry who never ventured forth unless it was 70 and sunny out. They continue to produce small, white eggs daily so maybe they haven't gone totally batty.

My poor ponies have been standing out in the weather for several hours a day, butts to the worst of it with rain sheets billowing. Cuervo is not pleased, and yesterday after about 5 hours out in it I had to bring them in. Its not to much better inside. My silly barn floods! So, except for the fact that the wind is not blowing them around,rain is not pouring off their manes and down their snouts, its not much of an improvement to be cooped up on a small island of pelleted bedding. At its worst the water was ankle deep inside. I thank my lucky stars that I propped the pallets holding my hay up on cinder blocks. I got alot of grief about that too. "Ya know, snakes and critters will git up under thar and bite ye..." well that maybe, but I'll gladly brave a little venom/rabies to keep my hay dry. Well, unless we have a record flood! Anyway, all this fun has put me in the mind of planning how I would improve on things if I had a place of my own. First of all, I wonder about stalls, they are small, dark and cage like. Any stall! Why do we have them? Who was the one person who decided 12x12 was the magic number of feet to contain an average horse? I remember in Hungary the barns where open, and the whole herd would plunk in there and eat from huge feeders set along the walls. If there was any division, it was from a hanging log from the ceiling that segmented out a straight stall where the horse got a grain ration or waited for saddling. A simple butt chain kept it in there between the two hanging logs. So I'm thinking, well what if I had a huge barn-like run in, instead of four 12x12 stalls? I'm not to hip on a simple three sided run in as those are cold and I have always noticed at least one horse getting left out no matter how well they get along. In my imagination I think of a closed barn with a door at either end. And an over hang outside where they can stand next to the barn out of the weather if they choose. This of course would be right off their turn out and down stairs from my barn house apartment! What could be easier for pet sitters or husbands with no horse experience? grin. Down the stair case, out of the weather might I ad, hay over the half doors into the four stall sized open space, water check of inside buckets and back up to a nice toasty home. No fuss no muss! Horses can come in or out as they choose, eat in a wind proof,bedded, snug stable or hang out in the turn out but dry under the over hang. By George I think I've got it! Can you tell I've been doing some thinking lately stuck indoors? The next rational addition would be a cover all so i can still ride in said lousy weather, and a piece of property way above sea level. No worries right? Ha! we shall see. Clearly more research is needed.

Now I know!

I'm not a big TV watcher, but last evening for some unknown reason I had the thing on while making dinner. I put it on animal planet hoping for some kind of dog whisper show or something equally innocuous. I have an ear on that and my mind on dinner. My ears perked up when there was mention of Burgaw NC a little town not to far away inland that we have visited. So when the show returned I stopped what I was doing and hung out to see. Well, apparently the show was on animals in disasters or something because next thing I know I see streets that look like something out of Katrina and animals paddling through 10 ft high water...OMG. During hurricane Floyd water rose as much as 20 feet in Burgaw! Guys, this town is not coastal. This town is very much inland like 30 miles from us or more....These folks had put their cows and horse on the deck of their home when they where evacuated and came back 5 days later in a boat to check on them. The animals where up to their bellies in water on the deck, which basically was the second story of their home. They got them out by retrieving their dock from the river and loading the animals onto it. They then pushed the floating dock down the flooded highway with two fishing boats.....OK so I was thinking, "Hurricane? we just load up and head toward Raleigh." NOW, I'm thinking "Hurricane? no problem load up and head to TN in the mountains!!!!!"
This is why I don't watch TV. On the upside the animals lived. The old horse was even shown today at age 30 still looking spry. Now we don't live on a river but we are living in a swamp 8 miles from the coast. Aside from water wings I'm thinking we need to invest in a big old house boat with horse ramp and pens on the deck...the chicken house won't be to hard to put floaties on...hmmmm. The hay? well, it will be a total loss unless we store it on a dock in the barn that we can float out and tie behind the house boat! Nah..... TN seems way easier! Glad hurricane season is officially over for this year at least.

Miss Kitty and balls of steel

If you build it,they will come! Sure enough, not long after the mountain of hay was installed felines started to wander in. The first was a tattered old gal we named Nana. She has since wandered on as we would not let her in the house. Next was fleeting glimpses of a big long haired white and black male. He left his scent everywhere but that was about it( the rascal) Now we appear to have a keeper. She is a minuscule little girl we named Miss Kitty and she has made herself quite at home. Not only that she is quite the connoisseur of kitty food, only eating the actual tuna fish in sauce looking ones that cost a buck or more a piece. No ground 39 cent a can for her thank you very much! She is very affectionate and apparently fearless. She rubs up on everyone and everything. That means Cuervo and Boo and the dogs much to their dismay. Yesterday in the field while I was hanging with Cuervo she saunters out meowing(she is very talky) and proceeds to rub herself all over Cuervos lowered head. I stood amazed at his gentleness as my old horse Zee was a notorious cat stomper. Anyhow there was all kinds of mutual love going on when I caught a vibe from Cuervo that he might just sample her tail that was presently sticking half way up his nostril. Ms.K must have caught the same vibe and gave him a good whack on the snout, but then instead of running off she went right back to rubbing herself across his mouth. That is when he put his very surprised face back down in range. Whew, this kitty has cahones man! Either that or she has some sort of cat disability that suppresses common cat sense. In any case she is now queen of Toad Bubble Flats. If I see processions of kitties in waiting, and hear heralding trumpets, she and I will have to have a little talk. But for now, its great to have a feline again. Even one with champagne tastes.