The new me.....

Have I mentioned lately its hot? Oh, and humid? You know, hot and humid like a south east summer should be? Complete with vacationing northerners? And lots of people at Food Lion in bathing suit cover ups who should have gotten dressed before going for groceries? Well, It is and they are and they should have...seriously, they should have. In the defense of all those on vacay, when I vacation I loose my mind too and am prone to decisions like wearing dayglo colors or thinking having my hair braided into corn rows is "IT". ( That last one might have been the margaritas talking.) In any case, its truly time to wear clothes that allow as much convection as possible. This is a struggle for me as I live and have lived and will always live in breeches. Horse breeches,that while cotton, are always black, snug and cover up all skin between belly button and ankle. This, while habit and once comfortable for me is not so much working in the buggy mug here. Not to mention, how "unacceptable and out of the ordinary" my clothing of choice seems to be to the average Hampsteadian.( see previous posting: horse pants blues) So I embarked on the dreaded shopping trip and forced my way through several changing rooms full of shorts, skorts and such. It was heinous as well as unproductive. In some mirrors I actually re-lived the Food Lion vacay cover up horrors that had so recently elicited such a visceral reaction from me. Disheartened,I scuffled off home, determined to ride out summer in the cool confines of my house. But first a quick bite at the local health food hang out. As I munched my curried seitan,and got ready to drown my sorrows in a Honest Tea, apple-jasmine kombucha, I noticed several of my dred locked, tattooed lunch compadres wearing sundresses. For 40 some odd years I have scrupulously avoided dresses unless it was for prom, wedding or my thrice yearly church forays. Then I counted the milliseconds until I could remove it and wear breeches. In fact the word "dress" is almost as hard for me to say as the words"I love you" are for many of the adult, male population. It usually comes out as sort of a stuttery, disdainful , snort. Something like "duh duh duh dress?!!" the last part rising in volume and pitch until it reaches the proper "are you freaking kidding me?" level. For some reason, maybe it was the seitan and mellow vibe of the place. I caught myself thinking "oooooh thats cute!" Shocked, I began a furious argument with me on all the reasons dresses are sooooo not us. "Dresses need cute shoes!" I blurted "Cute shoes are usually uncomfortable!" Me countered with " Look around , there are Birkies , flip flops and clogs...oh and over there some old keds decorated with marker." "Yeah but..." I stuttered "Dresses are for occasions." Me said "Summer is an occasion." "Dresses are so not us!" I whined. "Maybe they should be." reasoned Me. Who continued with " Look how , easy, breezy, cover girl that one over there is." Pouting, I looked. Girl friend had her dreds up in a cute head scarf, no make up, a floor length floral cotton shift and some rainbow flip flops. And all of a sudden it did make sense to me then. I love ease, I love comfort, I NEED cool, I hate outfits that need to be matched. What could be easier than one piece of clothing? I have flip flops for heavens sakes. I had been enlightened. So with this in mind and not ready or willing to face any more neon lit, multi mirrored changing rooms, I went home and ordered three sundresses from my favorite catalog( Athleta.com) I am giddy with my girlishness and I LOVE my new dresses. I even threw one on to buy celery the other day. Its a new me!

Scenes...

The heat has arrived already this year and with it, snakes, baby turtles, fresh tomatoes, and some kick ass roses! Under the water trough only a week ago was a beautiful coral snake, I admired him, then "helped" him to a new location with my buggy whip....I may not have been so gallant had I known how deadly they are, apparently full of a potent neuro toxin...greeeaaaaat! I hope he stays relocated! The pic above is of a corn snake I spied driving. He was pretty and NOT deadly! The roses are wild ones who, thanks to our regular doses of dog poop are splendid this year...We had no idea they where even there last year as not one bloom all season, but as we sling our puppy fertilizer over in that clump of weeds? Well now.... I am envisioning a cottage industry.wink wink. Bloom poo? Rose refuse? Shloses? Roshit? There is catchy name out there somewhere..grin! The deer has been a regular for a few months now and even samples chicken scratch that is exposed when I push the tractor to fresh grazing areas. I never found the pot of gold in my garden shed but thats ok, because with honeysuckle perfuming the air and firefly escorting me home on my walks I feel pretty darned lucky as it is.

Mommys Day

This is for my Moomsie. Its a rose in my garden. Roses aren't my moms favorite flower and yet I have gotten her countless rose bushes over the years, bouquets, silk roses, paper roses, even chocolate roses. Why, if they are not her favorites? Because roses, it is said signify love and I buy in to that. I love my Mommy! Tim and I have this half serious on going argument about who has the best Mommy. It usually starts with a story from our childhood and ends with "That's why I have the best Mommy in the world!" Then the remaining one of us pipes up with our fondest memory and we go on and on , back and forth until a concession is reached. Something like " Yeah, your Mommy is good too!" What is amazing about these "Mom wars" Is the fact that we have so much "ammo"...Poignant, funny,touching, silly,scary,wonderful memories of Mom. Its hard to believe that there is only one actual holiday on the calender set aside for all this remembering. I say if you have the best mommy in the world (and you don't 'cause mine holds that title) there should be little celebrations everyday in her honor. If chocolate reminds you of your Mom then have a piece and enjoy a memory. A big, fat, cinnamon, dulce latte? Java to you , Mom! A fifth of whiskey and a new tattoo? Cheers, Mom! Me, I'll keep trying to win at Mom wars and enjoy the roses. Happy Mothers Day Ma! I couldn't love you any more. xoxoxoxo Doobs

Eggsactly

What is the proper number of chickens for a family of two to have? A family of two egg eaters that is......I'm not sure I know. Math never was my strong point but I felt certain that the formula I had worked out was about perfect last time I ordered peeps =4 of the breed you really want plus 4 more of a breed that looks interesting and lays pretty eggs plus 4 more to fill the minimum order subtract the 6 that will most likely die during the growing up process and you should be left with two of each equaling 6 chickies which means 4 to 6 eggs a day which equals one fritatta and two omelets a week or 4 dozen Christmas cookies or several cakes and lots of egg salad or enough eggs for you to give away a dozen a week or so. As you can see this formula should have been full proof. So here we are almost 10 months later after driving chickens through intolerable heat, housing them in a horse trailer,then a chicken tractor, giving two away that where egg eaters and two more due to my guilt over the crowding and I still have two many chickens. Predation has been a non issue thanks to the every sturdy chicken tractor, the sheer cussedness of these three breeds have kept them healthier than any chickens Ive owned in the past. Don't get me wrong, I wish no harm on the little darlings, its just they are mucking with my formula! So I have decided that 4 more must go. I will do this two at a time just in case somewhere in the dwindling numbers perfection is reached! So the dilemma becomes, multi colored, multi sized eggs or favorite breed. Yesterday it was multi colored eggs until I noticed two of the favorelles plucking tail feathers from my dorkings( my favs!) So today, its favorite breed. The favorelles( interesting with pretty eggs) and the auracanas(fillers) must go. I take the favorelles to a client Sunday and the auracanas get a stay of execution as it where to see if 6 is the magic number. But one egg pecking, feather plucking, misstep and those hens are history baby!

kitty horse

So much has been going on to blog about and I say to myself, "ohh i gotta write that down.." then you know how it goes. We have been enjoying some great weather here lately so I can blame my lack of blogdates on that...that and reading other peoples blogs! grin. On to the recap! The best current event being that Tim was out in CA. visiting his family and packaging my new business venture, Amerika the riding simulator. She was shipped tuesday and should be here Monday, I cant wait for her to arrive! A huge thank you to clan Collins, who with out even a bribe, worked their hineys off to make it all happen. its good to have brothers and nephews!



Leelee, our rotten kitty has had some adventures of late, both involving neighboring kitties. Several weeks ago, one night, I heard a commotion on the porch. I see a grey blur, shooting up the sides of the screens, slamming into the glass door, and generally flying about like a pin ball. "What in THE world?" ( notice the southern emphasis on the word "the" pronounced"thee" not "thu") So out I went to investigate. The first thing I noticed was the God awful smell. Smell emanating from the streams of cat poop decorating the walls, screens , floor and yes, ceiling of our porch. She had suffered a bowel emptying fright that was for sure. I peered out into the darkness and heard some creature scamper into the weeds. Now unbeknownst to kitty head she is perfectly protected on the porch...locked in if you will. From where she sat in the portico I don't think she felt that way. It took her a good 10 minutes to come down, she hissed and spat and growled the whole time we mopped cat poopy off the walls. The next morning however she had undergone a change, she was happy to be petted on. Dare I say she was even a bit clingy. You know, like most grateful pets. Well, I really felt we turned a corner there in our cat/human relations. So flash forward a few weeks and I hear a cat fight out front. I look out to see two, big , strange cats in quite a tussle,then from the bottom of the pile of writhing fur pops leadens head. My neighbors got an earful , as I hit the stairs bellowing all kinds of cuss words in bare feet. The two big cats went left and Lee lee went right. I gave chase to the interlopers in hopes of imprinting on their feline brains that this yard was not a nice place to be. After I had sufficiently dispatched them into the weeds, I turned to locate Leaden. Scanning the yard, I see her, in the middle of the pond! She is paddling like a pro towards the far bank. "Hmmm, a water escape, very clever, young skywalker. Cats avoid water mostly, excellent plan. EXCEPT you too are a cat!". So I called to her,like she would come back. And she did! She swam an about face and headed to the shore by me. I tried to focus on the fact that she was doing quite well and ignore the "Jaws" music that had began to play in my head. Who knows what lurks in the depths of that pond...caymans, snapping turtles, nessy....one can only imagine! I did, oh, I did in those moments before her paws hit dry land. So I offered what any empathetic human would offer when faced with a pathetic, sodden, little body, I scooped her up thinking to comfort. Er, wrong move, she was mad! Mad about the fight, mad about the swim, mad about the soddenness of her little kitty self. She growled and grumbled and spat, and only let me get half way back to the house before it became very perilous for me to persist in the comforting. She continued to grumble as she did the step, paw shake, step, back to her porch and her bed. I tried again a bit later with a towel and received a puncture for my ministrations. But I did leave the towel for her in the sun and she continued her grooming on it at least. Again our relationship changed. She kept her distance all day, looking hooded and cautious. But by morning, the affection was double. You would have thought I was gone a week with the greeting I got. My ankles actually began to chafe from the exuberant twining of cat body. So we have settled into our new routine, that involves my morning tea with lee lee on her porch before i release her to the wilds of our yard. Its nice to have a cat again not the Tasmanian devil I thought we where stuck with for the next 14 or 15 years!

Fun pics....

Snow, Snow, SNOW!

Valentines Day found Tim and I driving through the country side on our way to an overnight in Charlotte. It was a nice dose of city. We had a hostess be rude to us, a homeless man beg for money and we found some supplies at an actual Trader Joe's. It was fab! The icing on the cake though was snow.... Yes, that's right, the white stuff, the stuff that never falls on the coast, yeah that's right...it never fell 4 inches worth.....niiiiiiiice! The best part was seeing all the sledding on the freeway overpasses. Since there are no other hills in these here parts people actually park on the freeway and sled down the overpasses and bridges. The second favorite pass time is building ridiculously huge snowmen. They like to use all of the snow in their yards in fact. I included a pic of my favorite, he had one eye and stood about 10 feet tall!