I WANT To Go!

To the finals of the Extreme Mustang Makeover.

I really, really want to go. Two small problems... it's in September, smack in the middle of classes, and it's in Fort Worth, Texas.

So, I sort of doubt I'm gonna be able to go, between the time out of school and the cost to get there, and stay if I were to go for the top ten finals.

I want to go, because I think it's a great thing, they take mustangs from BLM land, and give them to trainers for a hundred days. At the end of the hundred days, they show in Fort Worth, and at the end of the show, they're adopted by auction. The money goes to the Mustang Heritage Foundation.

I also want to go because at the finals, the top ten horses and trainers get to freestyle, and show off any special tricks, skills, or thingymabobbers they may have accomplished.

Last year, the finals included a dude swinging a chainsaw around on the back of his mustang, and a woman shooting balloons from the back of hers.

Stuff like that is just too cool, and I want to see it in person!

CM is accusing me of wanting to adopt a mustang, and I wouldn't be against having a mustang, but not through that program. Last year, one horse that went off pattern and didn't even make the finals was adopted for $50,000. Horse Town USA and the Mustang Heritage Foundation partnered on his adoption, and he became the official mascot of Horse Town USA.

I can't afford that kind of adoption fee!

I do want to go and watch, though. I'll probably spend that week whimpering and whining about not being able to go.

*Sigh*

Flying Lessons, Farmmom Style

Well, Farmmom and I have been excited for the past week or so because we needed to move cows. And, well, what better excuse to go for a ride?

I went out yesterday and got on Monkey to make sure he wasn't going to decide it was time to play since he hadn't been ridden in a couple of months. We didn't get really excited, mostly just reminded him of what he's supposed to do when a person is on his back. By the time I got done with him it was farking hot, so I didn't get on Legs. I figured, heck, she's too lazy to dump me out of spite anyway. The plan was that I would ride Legs and Farmmom would ride Monkey.

Well the plan changed. I rode Monkey, because, as Farmmom said "He's the best horse we got for chasing down runaways, and I'm out of practice."

Cue Ominous Music.

So, we get the horses loaded, hauled, and saddled. Farmmom gets a leg up to get on the Giant Horse, except that Legs has other ideas. Well, it's sort of excusable that she got excited and gave a few hops, she hasn't been ridden in a year. I swung up on her and convinced her that being evil was a bad idea, we got Farmmom loaded up, and off we went.

It probably would have been fine if our... ahem... help... hadn't had the World's Biggest Brain Fart. Instead of dropping the trailer and then heading off to help gather the cows up, he took off across the pasture banging and clanging dragging the four horse along behind.

I probably don't need to tell ya'll that the horses were a bit nervous about that loud contraption. So were the cows.

I looked up from a short discussion with Monkey about how he really could go towards the noisy thing, just in time to see Farmmom faceplant. Luckily, Legs wanted her buddy so she came right to me, and I was able to get to Farmmom just in time to provide a bit of a block to keep the cows from stepping on her as she gathered her wits, since our... ahem... help... wasn't paying attention and was gleefully driving cows hither and yon at a high rate of "get me the hell away from that thing."

Farmmom swore she was ok, in spite of the lovely cut on her temple from her glasses. Which she refuses to have photographed, so the Injury Chronicles will have to stay photo-less on this one.

Anyway, she swore she was fine, got back on the horse, and we made it back to the cows in time to stop our... ahem... help... from running them through the fence.

Bout this time, Farmmom hollered for me to flag Farmdad down and have him take Legs.

"I think I got dumped, but I can't remember."

Uh Oh. I got Farmdad over there to check her out, and held the herd with Monkey while we determined whether or not Farmmom needed to make a visit to the nice Emergency Room doctor.

Legs was wound enough that she wasn't going to be able to work, so she got loaded and hauled back to the corrals. Farmmom spent the rest of the morning as a passenger.

She remembers what happened now, she's oriented and all, she just got her bell rung pretty well.

On the bright side, Monkey performed really well, in spite of all the excitement, and especially in spite of our.... ahem.... help.

He and I had several times that we were the only ones with the herd, and he did everything I asked of him, even if he didn't know why. He even went over a fence that he'd seen a cow get caught up in for me. He wasn't really happy about it, but he went.

For only the second time he's moved cows, and the amount of new stuff that got thrown at him, he performed really well. I'm proud of my big ol' boy. Everyone says they got pictures of us workin, so when I get them I'll share any good ones. Even though Monkey boy was lookin pretty rough, I didn't have a brush for his mane and tail.

Legs and I will have discussions on the proper behavior for an equine whilst at work. If E takes Etta, we'll have those discussions at school, if not, Farmdad is saying he's gonna learn her hisself.

Weight, what?

While AD and a few others make lifestyle changes and lose weight, (you go guys!) I've made a few lifestyle changes as well.

For starters, I got a boyfriend that likes to feed me. So does his family.

He'll get a snack and feed me bites, (if I don't kype them first) and say, jokingly, "I'm gonna feed you up eventually, honey."

I never thought it would happen. I don't know how it happened, aside from the fact that I've been sitting on my duff a lot more lately, and, well, feeding the children when I have them reminds me to eat, too.

I don't know how much I've gained, since I don't own a scale and neither does Cowboy Mechanic. The Farmparents have one, so I'll check while I'm there this weekend, although I'll have to remember what the off-set is on that scale. It's a digital scale, but it's always been a few pounds off.

I know what I weighed two months ago, because I had a check-up. I know I've gained some, but at my size, every little bit seems to make a big difference. So, I'll check.

Gaining weight... never thought it would happen. I'll be overjoyed as soon as it stops going to places that get sore when they get bigger....

Hey... you think maybe that whole "hey, I'll give you some of mine" joke that people keep making finally worked?

Random Things

1. It's more difficult than you think to accomplish any writing with three kids in the room. Even if they're engrossed with the television. Commercials are the enemy.

2. I don't care who you are, you are not going to please all three children no matter what you put on. I vote with Eldest Child, though... If I have to watch Dora one more time this week I'm going to shoot the TV.

3. I really, really don't want to spend any more time critiquing Traci's chapters. I love the woman to death, and I normally wouldn't mind helping her out... the stuff she shared with the class was actually pretty good. But this stuff is... well, its rougher than a row boat in a hurricane. On the one hand I'm cringing and pulling my hair out because she's making silly slip-ups, and on the other, I'm trying to balance my critique to be constructive. I think I'm doing pretty well, in spite of putting off the last chapter. I haven't said "You know better than this!!" I have, however, been putting comments in wherever thoughts occur that bring me out of the story.

4. Moving cows this weekend, so I'll be at the Old Homestead Friday, and riding, if not Friday, then Saturday. Must remind Monkey of how things work under saddle for Farmmom, and try out Etta and Legs. Whichever behaves better will be my mount for cattle pushing. Farmmom is taking bets on whether or not I'll get tossed.

5. I'm seriously considering bribing my doctor to write me a note saying that I need my dog with me for my mental health. I miss my puppy.

6. Now I understand all those times when I was growing up when I ran through the kitchen just in time to hear Farmmom mutter "God, I can't wait until school starts again!"

Edit: 7. I'm the third search result on Google for estrogen poisoning.

Oops...

I finally got my procrastinating butt around to getting registered for classes today. Called Del, told him "I need classes!" and we started whipping out my schedule.

Riding class, 10:00 am Monday through Friday, check.

Equine Management 1:00 pm Monday and Wednesday, check.

Computer class, evening (blech) 5:30 pm Monday and Wednesday, but check.

Elective, Computerized Farm Records, 2:30 pm Monday and Wednesday, check.

Math, che.... er... wait.

"Do you want algebra or Ag math?"

"Ag math. Algebra hurts me."

"Ok, so that one will be from 11:00 to 12:15 Tuesday and.... um. Hold on."

"Wha? Just one day a week? That's odd..."

"Well no, it's supposed to be Tuesdays and Thursdays... but your riding class runs from 10:00 to 11:30 Monday through Friday, so we have a scheduling conflict."

"Well crap, is there another time?"

"No. Who was your dumbass adviser last year?"

"Um. You."

"I was afraid you'd say that."

"So what do we do?"

"Well, maybe we can work something out with Marilyn on the time conflict, maybe ride early, or something."

"Marilyn is good about things like that, so it shouldn't be a problem. If nothing else I can ride with another class on those days, maybe."

"Well, we won't be able to register you for the math class until she signs the time conflict slip, so don't let me forget to do that. My memory is about as long as my hair these days."

So, I have to talk to Marilyn and figure something out for the conflicted days... I'm sure it won't be too big a problem, if nothing else I'll ride with the freshmen those days and be her demonstrator. I don't have anything at all in the afternoons on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so I'm sure we'll be able to work something out.

Meanwhile, my official schedule doesn't show the math class. But I do have an official schedule, at least.

Gentle (and not so gentle) Friends....

Let me tell you a story.

Once Upon A Time, there was a young woman. This Lady was intelligent enough to count to ten without using her fingers, literate enough to read the newspaper without resorting to a dictionary, and not ugly enough to cause small children to start crying when they saw her.

All in all, she was ok.

Well, one day, the Lady met a Gentleman, whom she came to hold in the highest esteem. For some reason, quite a mystery to the Lady in question, the Gentleman returned her regard.

They were happy.

Now, this Gentleman was not a young toff, fresh cut from his mother's apron-strings. No, he had been out in the world, and had some experience with life, including a failed marriage, and children.

Three children.

The Lady, while she was fond of young people, and enjoyed them immensely, had very little experience with this many children, and being their primary guardian, for any appreciable length of time.

Circumstances conspired, as circumstances tend to do, to throw her into that position with the Gentleman's children, for a period of three days.

The first day, they had fun. Although the Lady wasn't feeling entirely well, she had enough activities to keep them entertained, and they had a good day.

The second day, they had great fun, visiting the park, and taking a long walk on the hiking trail. The Lady pointed out various natural wonders, and small creatures, for the children to gaze upon.

The third day, well. The Lady was never certain precisely what started it all off, but the third day was Hell On Earth, with the middle child.

Keeping in mind that the middle child has a minor developmental disadvantage, effecting his emotions far more than his intelligence, the Lady attempted to be firm, but compassionate.

As the day wore on, her compassion, however, faded. If the Lady had been faced only with this child, she would have been fine. Alas, there were two other children to care for, and all were running our fair Lady ragged.

At the end of the third day, when the Gentleman returned from his labors, the Lady beseeched him, "Darling Gentleman, is there any possible way that another could care for your delightful offspring, soon? For truly, though I care a great deal about them, I have not had the experience nor the training to be prepared for such circumstances as have recently been common. I do not wish to say that I refuse to care for your precocious young ones, please do not mistake me! I simply mean that, as a full time care-giver, I am not, yet, fully developed. Some period of adjustment and mutual learning is necessary, for the children's well being, and for my own."



To which the Gentleman replied: "I'm surprised you lasted three days!"





Ya'll, I am not cut out to be a house-mother.



Yet.

Hello NASA!

Was just checking out my sitemeter and when I hit "who's on?" it popped up with... that's right... a NASA computer!

I'm flattered to be getting attention from someone at NASA, although I'm not really sure why. It wasn't a search so perhaps one of my readers works there?

Regardless, it's yet another of those nifty things that sitemeter allows me to know, and another demonstration of why I'm addicted to it, even when I'm not posting much.