Another "....oh no !! give us a break morning".....another "just how many under-layers are going to fit inside the first layer of my outer layers ?" followed by ..."how many outer-layers will fit under my oversized coat ? ". The resultant fashion faux pas, something looking like a multicolored blob enough to scare the chickens off the lay and turn Daisy Mae's milk sour. Fortunately Greg clearly has a um....problem which possibly means that he doesn't notice !!! as discovered in a recent conversation, standing in front of the kitchen window and discussing the flora and fauna (or, lack of it) on the distant tree line which forms the boundary of our 40 acre"empire". "Look at the skeleton of that big Alder tree out there"....gazing in the vague direction that Greg is looking I am confused as to exactly which naked Alder he is referring and I hesitantly informed him that there are several Alders out there that have surrendered their leaves to Autumn...to which tree is he referring. Impatiently (clearly I'm not psychic) he said "that one over there on the left of all the cedars". Even more hesitantly I dare to suggest that the only denuded Alder I see next to a copse of cedars....is on the RIGHT. Silly me, left..right !!! Indulgently, Greg looked me straight in the eye..."the Alder tree on the LEFT Maureen" and as he held up his RIGHT hand to demonstrate just how wrong I was...I saw a little spark of "OOOPS " (to put it politely !!!) I have to confess....it's tough being right....AGAIN !!
If cows could have a lap band, our big black Dexter Daisy Mae would be a candidate. Daisy has an eating problem...she doesn't know when to stop. To the average city slicker, a fat cow doesn't appear to be a problem of any significance but to us, Daisy's obesity was the cause of her infertility last year. Wayne the man with "the syringe" tried unsuccessfully to impregnate our corpulent cow and after several attempts we resorted to renting a bull with a healthy appetite for "the deed", boundless enthusiasm and.... the appropriate assets to get the job done in a timely manner (we rented his productive "bits" for 6 weeks). A little red bull was the happy conclusion to Pixie Mulder's visit and it has to be said, Sirloin has not been a disappointment but we resolved that Daisy our corpulent cow WAS going to reduce her waistline before Wayne "the man with the syringe" was due to return to the ranch. Daisy is NOT a happy cow...clearly, "sufficient" for us is very lacking from where she is looking and, "when Daisy aint happy...aint no body happy" and the whole ranch, the valley and the whole neighborhood is made aware that our big fat momma is hungry enough to eat a scabby horse. Poor Daisy Mae, life is tough for a fat cow on a diet.
Little Luke the Australian Shepherd dog with questionable parentage has, apparently.... surprisingly discovered that being a pampered pet isn't nearly as much fun as being a true, down to earth, muddy grubby farm dog. Forsaking his well worked and comfortable little nest in the hay, Luke has been appearing (albeit a little late) to "assist" Bran persuading the flock of sheep to go out to the pasture. Truth be told, neither Bran the Border Collie or little Luke are necessary for this exercise but, it gives Bran a purpose and he likes nothing better than trying to sneak a crafty snap at Barney the rams most...uh.... noticeable assets (that's English polite for scrotum ). As the sheep are all but through the pasture gate little Luke comes charging into the arena...usually heading in the wrong direction but at least he is out to play and in his excitement the little guy just runs for all the world like a scalded cat or a headless chicken around the barnyard. Today, as usual Greg loaded up the daily hay ration on to the trailer and put the key in the ignition to the quad bike. Within seconds, Bran had scrambled up onto the hood and tail waving assumed the co pilot position only to have little Luke gallop up the barn yard after the speeding vehicle. Grudgingly Bran made room for the smaller dog and together they "assisted" Greg on his early morning chore. Little Luke could make a bona fide farm dog yet !! (we live in hope little one).
Well, bed time. The double doppler has assured us that clouds, rain and warmer weather is on the way, the local meteorologists have assure us that their computer models have got it right....so it's hunt out the wet weather gear in the morning ! Take care, keep safe...warm...and dry. M
If cows could have a lap band, our big black Dexter Daisy Mae would be a candidate. Daisy has an eating problem...she doesn't know when to stop. To the average city slicker, a fat cow doesn't appear to be a problem of any significance but to us, Daisy's obesity was the cause of her infertility last year. Wayne the man with "the syringe" tried unsuccessfully to impregnate our corpulent cow and after several attempts we resorted to renting a bull with a healthy appetite for "the deed", boundless enthusiasm and.... the appropriate assets to get the job done in a timely manner (we rented his productive "bits" for 6 weeks). A little red bull was the happy conclusion to Pixie Mulder's visit and it has to be said, Sirloin has not been a disappointment but we resolved that Daisy our corpulent cow WAS going to reduce her waistline before Wayne "the man with the syringe" was due to return to the ranch. Daisy is NOT a happy cow...clearly, "sufficient" for us is very lacking from where she is looking and, "when Daisy aint happy...aint no body happy" and the whole ranch, the valley and the whole neighborhood is made aware that our big fat momma is hungry enough to eat a scabby horse. Poor Daisy Mae, life is tough for a fat cow on a diet.
Little Luke the Australian Shepherd dog with questionable parentage has, apparently.... surprisingly discovered that being a pampered pet isn't nearly as much fun as being a true, down to earth, muddy grubby farm dog. Forsaking his well worked and comfortable little nest in the hay, Luke has been appearing (albeit a little late) to "assist" Bran persuading the flock of sheep to go out to the pasture. Truth be told, neither Bran the Border Collie or little Luke are necessary for this exercise but, it gives Bran a purpose and he likes nothing better than trying to sneak a crafty snap at Barney the rams most...uh.... noticeable assets (that's English polite for scrotum ). As the sheep are all but through the pasture gate little Luke comes charging into the arena...usually heading in the wrong direction but at least he is out to play and in his excitement the little guy just runs for all the world like a scalded cat or a headless chicken around the barnyard. Today, as usual Greg loaded up the daily hay ration on to the trailer and put the key in the ignition to the quad bike. Within seconds, Bran had scrambled up onto the hood and tail waving assumed the co pilot position only to have little Luke gallop up the barn yard after the speeding vehicle. Grudgingly Bran made room for the smaller dog and together they "assisted" Greg on his early morning chore. Little Luke could make a bona fide farm dog yet !! (we live in hope little one).
Well, bed time. The double doppler has assured us that clouds, rain and warmer weather is on the way, the local meteorologists have assure us that their computer models have got it right....so it's hunt out the wet weather gear in the morning ! Take care, keep safe...warm...and dry. M
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