Rogue Buffalo: Another Ranch Land Adventure

I was getting ready for a trip to town. Groceries needed purchased, or I was pretty sure that the kids would lock me out on the front porch and not let me in until I produced a sufficient amount of food to nosh. My phone rang... It was The Man.

"Hello?"
"Hi... Whadda ya up to?" (Standard question always asked by the Man when there is trouble afoot.)
"Getting ready for town... Why?" (Standard question asked by me when I know that I am about to be embroiled in such trouble.)
"Buffalo are out. Don't know where they are, but I have an idea. Keep your phone close. I will need you to come open a gate with Rafael when we find them."
"OK."

So much for leaving "first thing," but I wasn't discouraged... This should only take an hour - TOPS! (ahem...)


Yes, that's them... The "girls" decided they would take full advantage of the heavy rain storm that left the main gate to the buffalo arena wide open. They worked tirelessly all night on the knot in the rope that kept their pen closed and once they had that undone, it was off to the races!

After the initial blunder of opening one gate, only to miss an open gate directly across the road, I knew that groceries in the morning hours would have to be a distant memory. These gals were on a high lope across a pasture that was largely wide open. The chase was on...

Two and a half hours of pursuit later, these silly geese had us fully aware of how many farmers vs ranchers we have in the neighborhood. The "Angels" sniffed out every open gate, run down fence line and wide open oat field to explore, all with the accompaniment of The Man and his Trusty Assistant on horse back hot on their swishy little tails. I am convinced they thought it great fun!

We (meaning the Man and Trusty Assistant), finally got the rogues headed back toward home. They made it a full two and a half to three miles away from our property and their waiting water tanks. By the time they complied with the homeward effort, they were parched and done with the fun of it all.

On the way back to the ranch, I had the hired man in the car and it was our job to drive the route home and shut each open gate along the way, preventing further adventures of the Buffalo Gals. Let it be said, we only missed one... Apologies to the farmers and their oat fields.



They look all too happy with themselves, don't they?

Groceries would have to wait another day, I am afraid. I did however stumble upon a very nicely faked recipe for smothered pork chops that the whole family thought yummy. I was allowed to live another day... As long as I produced groceries within twelve hours!

How did your week go?

Blissfully yours...

I am grinning at myself.... Rather smugly, I might add. It is a silly thing, really. I am typing this from the rather bare surroundings of my studio. The walls are not finished, there isn't any electric and the only furniture is a wobbly card table and one lone chair. There really isn't much progress (else you would be seeing pictures, for sure) but I decided that I would not waste such a glorious space by writing my next blog post in it!

As I sit here, the breeze from the open windows confirms what I knew would be a comfortable seating. I am neither too hot, nor too cold. The flies that are buzzing through my unscreened windows aren't even bothering me terribly. The smell of cut lumber piled diligently behind me is soothing and puts a smile on my face as I stare out into the open meadow. From this vantage I cannot see another house or car. There is peace here in the quiet of my studio. The feel of it is exactly as I had hoped it would be.

Rarely these days do things turn out to be exactly as hoped. I feel very blessed and yes, a little spoiled. My husband grinned at me as I lugged the card table and chair out to my happy den. He gets me, he really does. He didn't ask what I was doing, he knew. I have gone to my happy place and all is well with my soul.

As much as I am reveling in the blissfulness of the studio, I am also wondering how some of my friends abroad are doing. They are, themselves, not in the fray but they may have loved ones and friends who are. My heart goes out to them. The feelings of helplessness and anger cannot be easy weights to bear when they are so far away. My prayers go out to them.

My to-do list ticks off in my head: A clinic to get organized, phone calls to make, the last of school supplies to buy... And I am once again back in the land of the living. Last week, I could barely get myself out of bed, the depression was so stark and unrelenting. Today it is as if the cool crisp morning air has jumpstarted my drive once more. Husband is so right when he literally shoves me up out of bed and tells me to get off my duff and DO something. As callus as that sounds, it is exactly what I have to hear if I am to keep going. The hardest thing about my depression is how stagnancy builds on me, miring me deeper and deeper, until I cannot move for the weight of it. It makes it incredibly hard to break free and just DO something.

My new phone is sitting in its FedEx box, staring at me defiantly. I have to set it up, AGAIN... If I let myself get angry about that I might actually ruin my awesome mood. Not yet. At least I have the darned thing before there is a cost to me... Still under warranty. Let's hope this one works more than two months before crapping out.

Pogo is panting at my feet, also enjoying the confines of the studio with what looks suspiciously like a grin on his face. When the Mommy's happy, Pogo's happy! Note to self: Will need a dog bed in studio for His Highness.

I am content... I hope you have a marvelous rest of your week!

Silent Sunday

Here comes the rain...

From The Brown's Zoo Tales

It's raining... Thank you, Lord! It is raining HARD and I am rejoicing in the very depths of my heart over it. All too soon it will pass and the humidity will climb and I will again long for the sound of the drops pinging off the roof of my studio, clambering down the gutters of the house and coursing throughout the bar ditches.

The seat of my bicycle will be soaked, but I don't care. Thunder rolls in the distance and gets closer with the torrential falling of drops. My dog claws at my legs, panicked at the sound of the booming, while I type and smile. The sounds must be so much more vibrant and scary to them with the four legs, he is shaking so.

When I was small, I used to be terribly afraid of thunderstorms. I distinctly remember a late night storm that coursed through our city, blowing up the large trees in the nearby park with lighting strikes. It was terrible to behold and I recall crying long into the night, fearful that the lightning would find me and turn our home to ash. I would count at the flash of lightning, "One Mississippi, Two Mississippi, Three...." as the storm came closer, listening for the boom of thunder not far behind. Someone had told me that was how many miles away the apex of the storm was and I clung to that, desperate for solace in the dark. It was terrifying when I couldn't even get out one 'Mississippi' before the crash of thunder bellowed angrily around me, and then none too soon it all began to move off.

The things that are so terribly scary and loom large over our psyches as a child, can turn to such welcome afternoons spent as an adult admiring the perfection of God. I welcome the rain as our gift for the fields, a day I don't have to water the flowers, a cooling off of my overheated heart. Everything seems renewed after a good scrubbing of raindrops. Life smells better, feels more doable after the rain.

Even now the storm is moving on, the rain coming in fits and spurts. The thunder is rolling away and the dog is panting below my chair, semi-content that I am not worried over the loudness while he still shakes uncontrollably. I love afternoons like this one... Looking forward to the washed, new world.

What I've been up to...

Yup... It's here! And I'm so freaking excited!!! Ahem... There is a huge amount of work to be done before my studio is a living, breathing, usable space. If I am absent from my blogs you have confidence of where I'm located... I'm on a ladder or on my hands and knees making this little space inhabitable.

Check it out...



The day it arrived... Still on the trailer.



Pulling it almost to its final resting spot.



Holding my breath while they off-load



Back wall where the card room will go



Seating area where futon will rest...



My writing desk will go here...



Front door and side lights... It is actually very light and airy. Not dungeon like at all!

I hope to keep the updates coming as I get closer to completion and move-in! Yay!

Far, Far Away

When I was a kid, every afternoon on the public broadcast station there was a show geared to school-aged children called Zoom. It was an innovative program that showcased all the cast as kids my age doing experiments, reading stories, generally learning about all manner of things. At the very end of each episode there was always a call for the pen-pal program that Zoom sponsored. I watched and fretted and wondered what I would say and eventually, I sent in my name and address to be paired up with someone. I must admit, at the ripe age of nine, I was a bit cynical that I would end up with a pen-pal from Kansas, instead of some far off land as I had hoped.

I waited for what seemed like ages and I finally received my packet of information for a little girl in... (Insert drum roll here) Surrey, England! Her name was Mica and she was actually of East Indian decent. We exchanged letters and little gifts and we kept this up right until she headed out to "university". She was going to study medicine and informed me that our letters would probably stop there as she was anticipating crushing hours of study. I was sad, but I got it. Med school was way over my academic head and I could only imagine the hours she would be chained to her desk.

I still remember the incredible surge of excitement I would get when a letter would come in the mail with all those funny postmarks and interesting stamps of Queen 'Liz... I saved them well into my twenties. Come to think of it, they may be in a box underneath the house somewhere.

Blogging has brought back a lot of those wonderful memories for me. I can connect with people from all over the globe and I can learn about all manner of interesting cultures and traditions. It speaks to the excited kid in me. And just yesterday, I have to tell you, I did a very juvenile little "happy-dance" in my dining room as I brought in the box that was waiting so patiently in my oversized mail box from Saturday. (Yes, I actually left the box all alone in my mail box for TWO days before I retrieved it...Urg!) I have a blog-friend, not to be confused with boy-friend, who lives in Garrods Hill, England (I think that is how I am supposed to read the return post), and she sent me the winnings from her blogiversary contest she held earlier this month! It was the same excitement I felt as a little girl getting to open a package from so far away...

Ok, yes, I am a complete dork! The package contained the following:
Lovely little babushka-doll-paper wrapped around each gift and a willowy whisp of a girl card with a hand-written sentiment from my friend...

And inside the packages, viola!

As I sit here this morning, enjoying my coffee in my new mug, lovely union jack pennants draped invitingly around its perimeter, I wonder where Mica is. I wonder how she fared in the grueling throngs of med-school students and if she ever recalls the awkward over-enthusiastic pen-pal from Colorado that used to ask her all manner of inane questions.

I am so very thankful and awed by the people that I have met here in the blogiverse. You have made me feel welcome, unique, distinctly inept at times with your amazing photog skills and yet, always inspired to be more. It is with this swelling feeling of more that I leave you today. What might you do to make someone's day a little more?

I was wondering...

From The Brown's Zoo Tales

... why do things break or mis-function when Man leaves town? aka - I hate my dishwasher.
... what possible function do allergies serve? Seriously? I have heard of a little plumping up of your lips to beautify yourself, but I doubt seriously if swollen red eyes and raw red nose are attractive!
... do hydrangeas only bloom once? Mine have had blooms on one plant for a long time, the other is flat lazy I think! Hasn't bothered to do anything, like it is waiting on the other to finish to say, "Eh, I could've done better."
...when one yanks off the drawer front to ones kitchen drawer in a fit of rage at ones dishwasher, shouldn't one first find out where the nail gun is to repair it?
... why do I always see hummingbirds when the feeder has blown off the window and I have been too preoccupied to set it back up?
...what God was planning when he made babies so doggoned adorable? I simply love the littlest of them. I'm not a toddler-phile, not a child adore-er, I love babies, the ones that simply sit in your arms, unable to bite, claw at you, beg for things, or tell you how much you suck. Hmmm... my motives are showing.
...when will my lovely package from afar arrive? Probably when I need it most to cheer me up. Most likely when I am not home next week to receive it! Harumph... (Insert self pity party here)
...does anyone else love the feeling of anticipation like I do? I am anticipating the aforementioned package, a wonderful trip with girlies to LV, the completion of one writing/crafting studio and a trip alone with husband to Oklahoma... ok, well maybe I'm not anticipating the trip as much as the alone. (Insert industrial grade deodorant here along with enough water and Gatorade to drown a cow.)
...is there a great, not just marginal but great, website out there that identifies bird that come to my feeder? I have some very interesting fellers that frequent just outside my kitchen window, but no knack for identifying them with any success.
...are hobbies classified as illness when one has so many of them? And when one wants to add more?
... does grass ever miraculously mow itself? Mine has decided to mimic the jungles of Borneo...
...does anyone else fear asking children to weed to find their garden picked clean in a fit of spite?
...why does Google change my pictures into blurry fuzzy crap until I repost them direct from Picasa? very aggravating and foolish. Makes me want to use another service... Hint, hint, Google Gods.

From The Brown's Zoo Tales