When Life Hands You Lemons...

Sometimes you just have to grab the tequila and improvise a Sunrise.

Tooling along today on the way home from taking Snarky to the airport, I was feeling kind of groggy, because frankly, it's been a HUGE weekend, and all the excitement has me plumb wore out. So, being the self sufficient type I am, I cranked up the tunes and cardanced until I felt a little more pumped up.

Left the tunes cranked because I was enjoying them, until suddenly, whilst going up a hill, I realized that I was actually slowing down with the cruise control set.

Uh oh.

Turned off the cruise first, and then the radio, to hear the dreaded indistinct knocking sound coming from the general direction of the engine.

Crap.

I limped it into the next town because, let's face it, while I'm perfectly capable of walking ten miles, that doesn't mean it's particularly pleasant or that there will be any place open by the time I get there to get any oil or other miracle "hmm try this" bits suggested by folks who are just trying to be helpful.

It's not their fault I'm an hour from home with guests still at the house and dinner gonna be a-waitin. One shouldn't growl at those who are trying to be helpful, no matter how dim-witted the suggestions, nor how dim-witted they insinuate I am. (Yes, I did check the oil when I stopped. No, I don't carry a case of oil in my trunk "just in case." Why? Because that space is taken up with emergency power steering fluid because the hose clamp going from my power steering pump has been known to sink into deep depression and commit suicide at odd moments, leaving me on the side of the road in a situation where a skinny girl, a spare hose clamp, and some power steering fluid will save the day. But I digress.)

Got into the next town, shut her down, popped the hood, and checked the oil.

Dry.

Shit.

Ran across the street to the obligatory small-town stock feed/vet meds/tire repair/bbq shack and grabbed three quarts of the cheapest oil they had (having the lump sum of twelve dollars in my pocket at the time) and poured em in. Started the car back up in the hopes that nothing had been severely damaged and a little oil would let me gently limp it on home rather than leaving the car parked an hour away and having to get the car trailer up there.

No dice.

Crap.

Called mom back, since I'd called her when the problem became so obvious that even I couldn't ignore it with the message "You may have to come get me."

Knowing me and my luck, she had already started my way and my wait time was shortened thereby. Thank you, Farmmom, for being well aware of your daughter's ability to screw up mechanical objects.

Right now status is: car isn't driving anywhere but onto the trailer until a real mechanic looks at it, but I'm pretty sure he's gonna tell me the engine is toast, or repairs would be expensive enough that it might as well be toast.

Tomorrow, once we get MattG and JPG on the road home, and AD up and rolling from his close encounter of the deer kind, after having finally located a radiator for his truck, I'll start looking for a cheap engine to drop in the car just in case.

If you're wondering what the Sunrise part of this story is, it's this: I finally have an excuse too good to ignore to go find myself a truck. Just as soon as I sell a couple of horses. And maybe trade Farmmom the progeny of my cows for the next few years for cash.

Possibly after I stand myself on a corner in clinging jeans with a sign saying "Butt Grabs: $10"

After the attention my ass got at the blogmeet, I figure that there ought to raise enough to get myself a nice new-ish Dodge Ram 3500.

And if AEPilot Jim starts selling copies of the pictures of my butt, he'd better remember I get 75% of the profits and the other 25% go to Farmmom for giving me the genes (and oftentimes, the jeans) that went into making the butt.

Whew!

Well, yesterday we had a fantastic day, riding horses and enjoying the countryside.

Breda did GREAT in spite of being thrown the horse that decided to be stubborn... as a reward tomorrow she gets to ride Rebel who will give her a much more enjoyable ride.

Christina and GayCynic enjoyed themselves thoroughly, if they're to be believed (and I do believe them)

LabRat and Stingray got in on the horseback action as well, with Stingray demonstrating what I'm told his is favorite part of being on anything.... the go-fast.

Even if he didn't quite have the brakes all figured out yet.

Today we shot all afternoon (ok, I shot my camera and watched munchkins, but I was still grinning ear to ear) and tonight: Chicken Fried Steaks. Om Nom.

Also, Christina will be giving Farmmom her massage, and then myself. Because she rocks like that.

AEPilotJim is getting plenty of pictures of peoples butts, and will undoubtedly post them as he has time. He'd have posted some from the range I'm sure but early on in the play he discovered that his iPhone had no service....

The wail could apparently be heard for miles.


All for now, must go help with dinner and then get some of that dinner in me.

Blogmeet

Well, last night went well, as people rolled into town. First was AEPilotjim and OldNFO (and I'll come back and add links later when I have more leisure time, I swear guys) who were drafted into service but were paid well for their work carving up the BBQ by snitching some. Then it was myself, returning from the big city with Snarky in tow. We didn't get drafted but we did get food.

After that, Alan, Breda, and The Nerds showed up in all their splendor. Of course the arrival of The Nerds occasioned the unloading of a lot of beer into the garage... some of it may even be left tonight when we get back from the day's activities.

Then Christina and her guest showed up (I'm not sure if Sooper Secret Guest is still supposed to be a secret or not, so I won't let the cat out of the bag.)

Breda got her swag bag from Jim, everyone had a bit of nosh and beer, and there was much to do about iPhone. And a lot of laughter.

I'm about to go start loading gear for the day's activities, so that all will be ready before folks start showing up. Then it's off to be embarrassed as Breda peruses our pitiful excuse for a library. More later!

Blogowhato?

As some of you may have noticed on some prominent blogs there's something a-brewin in the wilds of Colorado.

Most, if not all, of the attendees are calling it Blogorado, a name not officially endorsed by myself or any of the Farm Fam. (Hush, all of you, I told you we're not endorsing it! Who's captaining this ship anyway??*)

Anyway, I've mentioned it in passing over the last little bit but now that it's actually happening I guess I feel more comfortable in coming right out and saying it: my little town will be overrun by bloggers, gunnies, gunbloggers, and, quite likely, large amounts of alcohol.

With a remote pasture and the instruction to bring whatever they would like to shoot, shoot at, or otherwise destroy, along with a few riding lessons and enough snark to drown an elephant, I'm sure we'll find some way to pass the weekend.

Plus, the attendees, who were carefully chosen, screened, and vetted by yours truly (not really) will be getting a singular treat in Farmmom's cooking. My beloved mother has busted her butt to provide a veritable feast for every night we'll have visitors, with peripheral help from myself, Farmdad, and Mamaw.**

I'm sure folks will be dropping notes whilst they're here, and I'll try to get up a few posts of my own, but frankly I'm so excited about seeing folks I've met before and meeting new folks that I don't know how often I'll be able to actually sit down at the computer. Besides, I'll have to keep up the charade that I'm actually a hostess capable of pulling something like this off. Which I never would be able to do without the full cooperation and assistance of my loving family.

Who are doing this all for me, and not at all because they're serious fans of some of the lovely folks that will be attending. At least that's what they tell me. Even when I accuse them otherwise.

I expect I'll spend the first night re-assuring people that we do indeed have such a thing as internet here, even if the county has barely heard of a wi-fi hotspot. And I'll spend Saturday laughing at certain bloggers as they go into iPhone withdrawals. I don't care what network you're on, where we'll be shooting, connectivity is nil.

Not to mention the shooting and tasting home-brewed beers and the story telling and discussions and and and.... Oh crap I still have to do laundry!


*Farmmom is, of course, captaining this ship. Who did you think I meant?

**Mamaw has actually helped more than either Farmdad or I so far, although Farmdad is, as usual, in charge of the industrial smoker for Friday night's bbq. Still, I think at least half of the folks coming are only after Farmmom's chicken fried steaks.

Pioneer Woman

Last night after a five hour drive (with a break in the middle to see my sister from another mother R so she could trim my hair before everyone descends upon us next weekend) and a two hour wait, I had the honor of meeting Mrs. Ree Drummond, aka, Pioneer Woman. For those of you who have somehow missed the boat on this one, she's an excellent writer and a cook to die for. Which is great since I paid thirty bucks for a copy of her cookbook for Farmmom.

Ree didn't even blink at being asked to sign a book to "Farmmom"... probably not the weirdest thing she's seen lately.

Anyway, I arrived at the Tattered Cover on Colfax in Denver about four thirty or five... the exact time was driven out of my head by the fact that there were already people waiting!

I immediately ditched the original plan to get the cookbook, get myself a book, go read and come back about thirty minutes early. Found a convenient piece of wall and stuck around. As a result I was somewhere around fifth in line.

Of course, being me I was dressed in western casual, blue plaid shirt over blue tank top over blue jeans and boots, topped off with my good straw hat. (If you were there and you saw me, you now know you saw me. I was the only one there in a cowboy hat, so I got a lot of attention. And a lot of pictures taken. Eep.)

I was quite out of place at the book signing, although Ree did compliment my hat. I'll be getting a picture in email of myself and Ree from the very nice lady from Kearny Nebraska that was the very first one there! (She was proud of herself so I thought I'd throw that one in.)

A few of us traded blog addresses (ok I gave mine to them. I didn't come prepared, I admit it. I had nothing to write with and nothing but my books to write on. Don't hate me, ladies! Just email me yours and then I'll have them, see? Email, as usual, is in the profile section.) and will probably stay somewhat in touch. They were very sweet ladies and some adorable munchkins who were remarkably patient with the whole process of waiting around for the book signing.

Anyway, Farmmom got her Christmas wish, and I'm contemplating hiding it from her until Christmas actually arrives... but then, she's my mother and she knows very well exactly how much and what kind of torture it would take to make me give up the location of the book, so I'll probably go ahead and give it to her.

Now I just gotta figure out how to justify another trip up that way on December 5th for Larry Correia's book signing.....


Edit: It appears that it was an even bigger deal than I had thought last night from my admittedly foreshortened view of things. Tattered cover ran out of cookbooks, for one, so yay for Ree's royalty check, and apparently there was a lot of line-jumping going on.

I've even found reports of a "Stair People Revolution" which I think is a fantastic concept.

So congratulations to Ree on a hugely popular (if slightly disorganized through no fault of her own) book signing. And, no offense to those who arrived "on time" and had to wait forever, but congratulations me for my neurotic need to get anywhere in the city early just in case. To those people who were on the stairs and waited forever, I love you. You are all wonderful people for being polite and doing things in a mannerly fashion. Viva la Stair People Revolution!

Happy Halloween!

There's just something about cap guns that brings out the kid in me. Instant childhood.

As soon as I opened the box I got this strange urge to run around the house firing them off. But since my buddy and I have a gunfight planned for the Halloween party at the bar tonight, I need to conserve ammunition.

But gee whiz it puts a smile on my face to pop off a few. So if you're feeling old or down or just want a little bit of that youthful joy back, go get yourself a cap pistol and some caps, and go nuts!

Sickies

Well, with the usual perfect timing we seem to have come down with a case of the flu. I say "we" but I really mean Farmmom, Farmdad, and Mamaw.

So far, I think my fall allergy sinus congestion has been protecting me from the bugs. If I can't breathe in the germs can't get in.

Farmmom's been down the longest but she seems to be improving. Farmdad caught it from her, and Mamaw came down with it after he did.

I'm just hoping that it clears up in time for me to sanitize the house, because we've got a lot of company coming in about ten days.

So cross your fingers and send healthy thoughts, guys. Otherwise, with my luck, I'll be miserable for the big weekend.