There were several tales today related to Snip...I thought you might enjoy them.

First, I rode Snip this morning, instead of this afternoon. He was a tad stubborn about the bit, but it could have been much worse. At one point, he was standing on my spur, so I just leaned back against him until he figured out that he needed to move.

While riding, I lost my .22 revolover. I ride with it strapped around the saddle horn with one of my belts. Well, the belt busted. I didn't realize it when it happened. Anyway, I was riding through the pens, fixing to go onto the back 40, when I went to check my gun--and found it was gone! Needless to say, I turned Snip around and went back over the ground I had just been walking, trotting, and loping all over. (Loping with no bucks today!! Yippeee!! Improvement!)

I found the belt after one sweep and was off Snip when Mama and Katherine got here. Mom must have noticed that I wasn't on the horse and I probably looked distressed, even from a distance, because in no time, my back pocket started ringing and Mama wanted to know what was wrong. Soon, she and Katie were there helping with the search...then Savannah came out. I got back on Snip and went the opposite direction. I found my pistol out near the briars. Believe me, I was quite relieved!

I asked Katherine if she'd like to ride behind me on the way back to the house. I took my left foot out of the stirrup and leaned to the right while she got her lanky self heaved up. That was all fine and dandy until Snip spooked at the gate. We both tumbled off! I probably would have stayed on if I hadn't had the extra weight pulling on my back...but anyway, we slid off and neither one of us got hurt--except for a stratch on Katherine's leg (most likely from my spur) and a few minor bruises. Anyhow, we both had a good laugh about it and I told Katherine, "Hey, now you can say you've fallen off a horse!" Snip stopped immediately--like he does anytime I disappear off his back. Soon we were back on and had no more mishaps for the rest of the short trip.

Much later in the day...I was filling Snip's water tank. He got curious--as per usual. And...well, have you ever seen a horse drink out of water hose? I got wet as he kept poking his nose back into the stream of water. It was really quite hilarious! He had that rather confused look on his face the whole time too...which added to the humor of the moment. Not that it was like I didn't need a bath...I was filthy from working in the barn for a good chunk of the afternoon.  But that water was cold!

Anyway...those are today's horse tails. ;)

        Racheal

P.S. Above misspelling was purposeful...
 
Well...after the morning feeding routine (which has changed slightly since the chickens are over here now), I changed out of my ratty jeans into some decent looking clothes and plopped down at the computer to work on a 'James and Burke' episode. I haven't gotten that finished yet.

At about 10:50, I suddenly realized I had better get started on lunch--Granddaddy likes to eat around 11:30. I jumped up and went into the kitchen and stared at the pack of chicken thighs. Something akin to this was running through my mind, "What a dingbat I am!! Chicken takes an hour to bake!!! I KNOW that! What was I doing on the computer??"

With those kind of things running around in my foolish brain, an idea suddenly slapped me upside the head. "Hey! Why not fry a couple of pieces for lunch and just stick the rest in the oven?" Saved by my practical streak, I got the skillet heating and put the chicken into a baking pan and into the oven--minus two pieces. One for me and one for Granddaddy. (I forgot to mention everyone else was not home...)

With the chicken crackling in the pan, I hurriedly chopped some mustard greens, thankful Mama had already washed them in the big sink across the creek. I dumped the baked beans out of the box they were in and put them on the stove to heat as well.

I ACTUALLY HAD LUNCH READY ON TIME....I was rather surprised about that, but quite pleased. I was equally pleased at the way it turned out--tasty. :D As Granddaddy was getting seated and I was dishing up the chicken from the stove (no need to dirty an extra dish with two pieces of chicken that were just going to be promptly removed), I told him, "We're having a good Southern lunch." He grunted, "Good."

We didn't talk much while we consumed lunch...but that's not unusual. He went back to the TV and I to the blanch the remaining greens I hadn't cooked. I also washed the dishes and made my coffee. Once done with all that, I took my coffee and returned to 'James and Burke'...

Coffee gone, I turned my attention to my afternoon's errands. I dropped by Wal-Mart first to get silver spray paint for the 'new' gate, as well as cat food since they are almost out. I made an impulsive (not too implusive really) buy of the Tintin movie. I've wanted to see it ever since I first heard about it (I LOVE Tintin!) and was just waiting until it came out on DVD. (I think I'll watch that tonight...)

I fully enjoyed this next part...While standing in line, the lady in front of me looked me over once. A minute later, she turns back and motions to my spurs (which I had noticed her looking at) and asked me, "Are those the real deal or just for decoration?" If she had noticed that the sole of my beloved boot is coming off, she might have answered that question herself. :D I told her, "They are real." Then she asked me if I used them...duh. "Yes, I use them on him sometimes...sometimes he needs it!" "Is he standing out there in the parking lot?" she teased. "No...when I left the house he was standing there eating hay!" A little later she said, "I'm a Northerner,  can you tell?" I laughed (this whole episode was hilarious), and said, "Sorta."

I was checking out and the cashier carded me--because of the spray paint!! That is kind of weird. Anyway, she said I didn't look over 18. 

From there I went and got fuel...then with a full tank, I headed for Bryan's. 

At Bryan's I hopped out and headed in; the Hispanic guy (who for blogging purposes I'm going to call 'Jose'--unless I find out his name), saw me, grinned, and asked, "A roll of hay?" I laughed, how could I help it, and agreed with him...only I was actually getting two! Scott (I think he owns the place or is one of the owners) took my plastic for both rolls and Jose loaded #1. Seeing me fumbling with my straps, he backed the forklift around and basically asked me if I'd like him to show me a better way of strapping in the hay. Why not? And you know what? It really is better! The hay doesn't roll near as much with the strap around the back rather than over the top.

I arrived home and unloaded roll #1. Granddaddy's cows have never had hay before, so they haven't exactly attacked it. I think they will eat it--once they get done butting it around and ripping it to shreds with their horns. Moonbat started 'horning' it first thing and I yelled at her while shaking my PVC head-wacker. She just looked at me over the roll of hay...nevermind....

I dashed back to Bryan's, and Dave (who has an injuried eye--he might startle you if you weren't expecting it--he makes up for that disfigurement with a quick smile and laugh; I like the guy...and I appreciate it when God places physically non-perfect people in my path. He continues to teach me not to judge by outward apperances or get 'grossed out' because someone has something wrong with them. I just hope Dave didn't see the reaction I had when I first saw him...I fail miserably on this front and I am ashamed of myself for it.) loaded roll #2. I strapped it in like Jose had shown me and left again.

After unloading that one, I headed out again...after filling a five gallon bucket three times and carrying it around 100 yards to make sure Snip had water. The pump is no longer pumping water--even though it was sitting there and running! I have to do some research on that. (If anybody reading this has any idea what might be the problem, contact me! Please...I'm totally lost on this front. :})
 
At Smith's I picked up another 14 50 lb. sacks of pellets and one of chick feed...I was going to get 4 bags of mineral too...but they were out. Drummer Dude, Redneck 1 (who I hadn't realized was so short! It's been a while since I've seen him) and Redneck 3 loaded my truck. Redneck 3 seems to be a real nice kid--he smiles an awful lot...

I got to our place, swept out the garage (I remembered Mama! :D), unloaded six of the bags of pellets and left again. I got over here, unloaded feed, chased calves, filled up Snip's water tank a bit more (the cows can get water out of the creek, so I'm not too worried about them), got something to drink myself, fed cows with Katherine's help, then fed Snip, the cats (I only saw Shadow), and the chicks. By now I was really hungry...three measely prunes at 2:30 don't exactly qualify as a filling snack and it was almost 6.

We (the first shift, Katherine, Granddaddy, and I) ate shortly after I came in. I really tried not to shovel...something I'm really bad at when I'm starving. And that pretty much sums up my day...it was busy, exciting, and even distressing to some extent...I have to figure out what to do about the pump...but I'll worry about that tomorrow!

Until next time, enjoy laughing at (and with) me!

        Racheal

 
No pictures tonight...but more words. :)

After lunch, Katherine and I headed out to work on the rooster coop. I was hoping we would be all done with it tonight, but it didn't work out that way. We started by putting wire around the whole thing, length-ways, starting at one end and wraping it around back to that same end, leaving the end open. (That's my 'door' end!) We put about six inches down on the ground as an extra deterrent for critters and wired the thing on. Katherine spent a good deal of time 'sewing' the wire to the bottom pipe with the thin, very supple wire that came wrapped around the chicken-wire itself.  Meanwhile, I was going around wiring it to the corners. Mama dropped by as she and Savannah were head to town and suggested support bars in the middle of my ten-foot sections. Okay...so out came the drill, the pipe cutters, the nails, and the hammer. I didn't need to cut another peice of pipe since I had two four foot sections laying around already. I drilled holes in either end of the four foot sections and roughly in the middle of my ten foot top and bottom pipes. Katherine poked the nails through and I hammered them down.

Then we went back to wiring...now, if  you've ever worked with wire, you know the state one's hands get. Soon we both had blood on our hands. Somehow, Katherine actually managed to get scratched more than I did...but I have some doozy's alright. Katie went in to get a band-aid for her arm at one point and came back with another poked in her pocket. That was providential because a few minutes later I really got a walloping cut on my right index finger. With that bandaged up I went right back to work.

We were almost done with all the wiring when Mama got home and came and looked at our progress and made some more suggestions. If you know me at all, you know that when I'm hungry and getting tired, suggestions aren't always the best received. Well, I bit down on that growing, "aww....just leave me alone!" feeling, and actually looked at what she was pointing out and laughed instead of growled. Yep...it really did need cross bars to keep it from sagging like that. I cut some more pipe (oh, by now my hands were so tired from cutting electric wire--what we are using to tie the chicken wire on with--that I had to use the ground to help me cut the pipe)...mind you, sitting inside  the three foot (plus a few inches) high area. Then I drilled some more holes, Katherine poked the nails through, and I pounded them.

We didn't finish...it was time for dinner and we were hungry (we never did stop and have that suggested apple break...go figure.) Anyway, it shouldn't take too much longer to finish--though I'm not sure we'll get it done tomorrow because we have to go someplace tomorrow afternoon.

I will post pictures when it is done! (Would have had pictures today only Katie left her camera across the creek!)

Rachea

 
Well, actually this is Part 2, since I started on the coops two weeks ago. Anyway, with Katherine's help, the frame of the first one is finished. Problem is...it didn't work like it was supposed to!

For starters, it was supposed to be shaped something like this:
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My cute as a button assistant...
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You know, I can be rather goofy sometimes...
We had all but one hoop (there were supposed to be 5) together, when they started snapping! 1 inch 40 SD PVC pipe popping is rather startling. This was the result...
Sooo...we brain-stormed...I called Daddy...and this is what we ended up doing: We made a triangle out of the pipe (instead of arches). I drilled holes through the ends, stuck a nail through, and pounded it down. 
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I started by sawing off the one unbroken pipe.
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Then I drilled holes in the top of the pipes...
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(How'd you like those orange ear-plugs? )
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Pounding away...(I had to have another pair of gloves held against the head of the nail to keep from hurting myself.)
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Finished frame!
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It wasn't that hot...I just thought this one was a cool picture! (I was still up the ladder when Katherine took it.)
Well, there you have it...we still have to finish...but that'll come in Part 2.


 
Today, the 7th of December, is a day that brings back some memories...

Last year, at about 4:30 in the afternoon, I took a headlong fall off my horse and broke my wrist. Remember? (If interested in re-reading that tale, you can find it under December 2011 on the "Archives" page. I wasn't using the blog format yet...)
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This was the next evening...
Besides the pain, I was rather disappointed that it was (at earliest) 9 pm by the time Daddy and I left the ER with my fractures splited. (That splint cut the blood off from my pinky finger something bothersome!) The reason I was so disappointed was that I had really, really been looking forward to watching 'Tora! Tora! Tora!'. It has been a family tradition ever since I can remember to watch the movie on December 7th and we hadn't managed to see it for the last 3 years. (I'm fully planning on watching it tonight. I brought our VHS player over for that express purpose!)

The morning of the 7th of December, 1941 witnessed one of the most horrendous attacks our country had ever sustained up to that point in time. Many men died that day as the USS Arizona sunk and the other ships in the harbor were severely damaged. "The day that shall live in infamy" is one that my family has always honored. This is a day never goes by without a thought of the past. Thoughts of the men who died...thoughts of the men who sacrificed their lives so that we could be free. I pray that we will not forget the noble sacrifices of our soldiers, sailors, airmen, and marines--past, present, and future.

While I may have broken my wrist on the day of infamy, even while sitting in the ER I didn't forget these men. (That's not a brag--at all.) I wonder how many young people my age pass the day without any knowledge--or care--of what happened at 8 o'clock that Sunday morning 71 years ago. This, my friends, is a reminder to never, ever, ever forget the men who have died to preserve our freedoms. This is reminder to honor those men...and I don't care if they are 100 or 18 years old! You owe your freedom first, to the grace of God, and second, to the soldiers He has seen fit to bless you with. Don't ever forget that.

God Bless Our Military!
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Pearl Harbor WILL NOT be Forgotten!!!

        Racheal

P.S. You won't get any smart-aleck remarks about the Air Force or Navy out of me today....
 
Of course, everything that happens is ordained by God, so it's all providential timing. Sometimes though, it's just more obvious. Take this evening for instance. I had just fed Snip and on my way back to the house, I looked up and saw something black in the grass in the pasture. At first I thought it might be a cat, but that wasn't really a serious notion. Other than a crow (which I had just heard) I concluded it was either trash or a calf. About the same time I settled on that, this 'little bit' as Mr. Ricky would call it, got to its feet and started to wobble toward its mammy.

I continued to go toward the fence as I was going to see if I could get a gender ID on it (I didn't--it can be so hard to tell when they are newborn). As I went I heard the floater valve in the water trough hissing. For some reason I glanced that way. Then I looked again. Clearly, some of the jostling the cows do around the water trough had knocked it crooked. Water was pouring over the side as fast as the valve could pump it in. (Or faster.)

Being my own self, without hesitation, I plowed out there. I hopped over the puddle around the trough to a little space where I could actually land. I tried pulling the still nearly full trough. "Stupid. Of course you can't move it!" Hmmmm.....

Standing on my little 'dry' spot, I janked my boots and socks off, tossing them across the puddle (good shot that...the boots landed one on top of the other!) and hauled my jeans up to my knees so I could wade around in the mid-calf deep water. Over the next several minutes I tried various means of shifting the trough. At one point, I was standing on the edge with it tipped as far down as I could pawing the water out between my feet. I'm surprised I didn't get much wetter than I did with that operation. I found an old soda can in there, wedged in the 4 to 6 inch deep mud, as well as some other interesting trash I could have cut myself on. I ended up scooping many, many handfuls of mud out and throwing it, "Splash!" into the surrounding area.

After a while, I hollered at Savannah, who was on her way to the house after watering the garden, to please come and help me. I had managed to shift the thing ever so little, but I needed some help. So she came out and waded in after making some comment about, "This is how you get parasites." Gee, thanks a lot, sis! :D

She had the smart idea (okay so I had the idea, but I wasn't smart enough to carry it out) to bail out the trough. She went and picked up the coffee can I carry Snip's feed in and brought it out to me. I bailed the trough most of the way out and scooped out more mud. Then, the two of us moved the trough...I stuffed some more wood under the lower end and took the stick out of the floater valve (I'd jamed one in to keep the floater up so the water would quit running).

Job done, I collected by boots and socks, went to the hose and sprayed the exess mud off me. Walking back to the house, in a put on, bow-legged kind of walk, ending each step with something of kick (an attempt to lose some of the extra water), Savannah told me I looked fashionable--two tone pants! Ya...so what... :D

Anyway, because a calf was born today, I saw that the trough was spilling over...so I could fix it. God's providence is awesome...and sometimes humorous.

        Racheal

 
I had the brilliant idea to trim my horse's hooves this afternoon. I asked Savannah to help by holding Snip's head, so she did. We got started around 4:00. It was at least 5:30 by the time we got finished.

I started with the 'trouble' foot (the right front). Ho-hum....how do I make this hour and a half of horse hoof wrastling interesting? Anyway, the funny and not so funny parts were interspersed throughout that time and they included the following: Savannah got her feet eaten by fire ants (ouch!), Snip removed the hoof-pick from my back pocket at one point (he's going to chip his teeth if he doesn't stop nipping on metal!), and I took a head-long, semi-backwards tumble at one point. Savannah was afraid I had gotten kicked as I rolled out from under the horse with my spurred heels waving in the wind. No, I hadn't gotten kicked--he'd just moved and I lost my balance and he moved some more and so I couldn't catch myself on his barrel-shaped hide. I told her, "Oh, you'd a known if I got kicked! I'd a hollered." She responded, "That's right, you're not Katherine." (I guess she and Katie tend to not yelp as soon as I do because the hurt takes their breath away differently.)

The fall didn't hurt. It did hurt though when I went to give Snip a good solid whack on the cheek for being a jerk. I hauled off and swung with all my might...I hit him alright. But he might as well as hit me. The side of my hand smashed right into his cheek bone. I don't remember if I yelled about that, but I danced around in a circle because it hurt so bad. Then I went right back to work. The swelling is going out of it now, and it doesn't hurt quite as bad as it did when I finally got done with Snip's feet and took my gloves off and let myself think about it. Savannah asked me if I broke it, but I don't think so...it didn't throb like the other bones I've broken. (In other words, I think if I had broken it that I wouldn't have been able to finish the job.)

That stinker was busy the whole time trying to nibble on us...and I don't know how many times we had to turn him around. I somehow managed not to get my feet stomped on. Snip was so ornery; I never actually got mad at him, but I gave him the no-nonesense voice several times. He also behaved himself somewhat better a couple times after I grabbed him by the nose and dug my fingers into his nasal cavaity...he thought about that.

This whole process would be easier if I had a set of nippers that I could conviently handle one-handed. The ones I have I can use one-handed, but it isn't easy. Probably wouldn't hurt to sharpen them either...

The result of the afternoon's struggle...four not-so-well trimmed horses hooves, two feet covered with ant bites, one stiff back, and one sore hand. Ah...life is so fun! (And that is only partially facetious. :})

        Racheal

 
I got to play lawn mower mechanic again this afternoon. The deck belt came off when I was about half way done with the yard. So I stopped, turned the engine off and put the belt back on (which is very stretched out.) After that the mower wouldn't crank. (I mean, it spun like crazy, but didn't actually take.) So, I took the thing down--all the way down to removing the starter. Then I put it back together. (You do know I like to disassemble and reassemble things by now, don't you?)

At one point I rolled the thing up the ramps so I could check the drive belt--which was nice and tight. I wasn't sure I was going to get the thing up there, but subbornness overcame gravity.

I got on the mower again and it started. All of sudden it puttered out on me again. I realized after a moment of frenzied 'trying-to-keep-this-thing-running' activity, that I had forgotten to turn that little knob on the fuel line back on!! I felt kind of stupid, but afterall, I've never used a mower that has a fuel line cut off like this before.
 
I finished the yard and started on the driveway. The belt came off again...so I put it back on. This time I got the engine cranked without taking it down :D Minutes later, the belt came off again. WAH! My "brand new" old mower needs a belt!! 
 
Oh well, at least  I did get the yard itself mowed; although I didn't get the driveway done. I certainly had fun getting nasty with mower grease. You should have seen my face when I came in! I have no idea how I got that much smut on it! (Actually I do...it probably came off my gloves--which were on and off ((because the engine was hot))--and my hair kept getting in my eyes; which of course means I kept shoving it out of my face. I assure you, I removed my hat early on--no use getting it any dirtier than it is. It's already beat up and bent up and gray-ish from dirt, but I still try to keep it looking half-way decent!)

Ah! The joys of life! ; D

        Racheal

 
I mowed our place yesterday....As usual, I dashed over first thing in the morning and hooked the Kubota up to the battery charger (I need a new battery!). I rotated the cows after I came home.

After lunch and watching 'Hawaii Five-O' (the orginial) with Granddaddy, I went back to our place.  I tried to start the Kubota and it just grunted at me. Humph. Well...I jumped it with the pick-up and it roared to life with a little subtle choke action. Then, with that right-rear tire flat as usual, I limped it over to the front of the barn, aired up the tires and greased it.

Thankfully, the grass wasn't as soppy as the last time I mowed, so it didn't threaten to bog down as much as it did last time. I got done with the back yard and headed to the front yard, and was in practically the same spot where I ran out of fuel last time, when I felt a bump, heard a rattle as something banged into the blades, and despite my efforts, the engine puttered out.
I figured I might have had the deck too low (that is pretty deep grass right there) and hit a stick--though there usually aren't sticks right there. Um, well...

I cranked the Kubota back up (yay! It started without having to be jumped!) and backed it up a couple feet. That's when I realized the truth of the matter. There, laying over on it's side, dug into a small hole was none other than the left caster-wheel off the mower deck!! "Oh great! Now, I've broken the wheel off!!"

I hopped off, collected the wheel, pulled my cellphone out of my back pocket and called Daddy. He told me to go ahead and keep mowing, just when lowering the deck be more careful. I think, though I don't know for sure, (hands and knees still hurts my left shoulder some), that the wheel is held on by a sort of big snap ring. That's what came off and no way I was going to find that in think eight-inch grasss! Maybe if it had been another color than dark gray....

Anyway, the grass got mowed...and the cows didn't get any of it thrown over the fence to them--they could use it, but I didn't think I needed to stress my shoulder yet. Poor Abe looked me straight in the face and went: "Mahoo!" I have to get those animals wormed sooner than later--they look horrid!

And that was my day...basically.

        Racheal

 
I broke my left clavicle yesterday...yes, I did. Right at the end, see?
Here's how it happened: I was attempting to worm Snip. I had him tied to an old H-frame. Dumb...dumb. I knew better.

Anyway, I got the syringe poked in the corner of his mouth and started to depress the plunger. Snip took to his heels (literally) and backed up with speed. When he hit the end of my pretty red lead-rope, he just kept right on going and busted the cross-bar right on out of there.  Naturally, it went flying. The post bashed into me, knocking me down. However, all that is rather fuzzy--what actually transpired between the moment I started tripping over my own feet in an attempt to make Snip stand still and the time I was on my knees screaming, "Savannah!!" at full blast can only be guessed at. Suffice it say, I came close to panicking, but didn't.

What I do remember is staring down at my hands while bellowing for Savannah. I could move them, but they were numb and tingling, as was my head. What we think happened was that, due to the way I was standing, I got the brunt of the fencepost on the left shoulder. I'm positive is wacked me on the back of the head too, but by that time my shoulder and my beloved hat (which by the way is smashed worse than ever), had slowed it down enough that it didn't give me a concussion or fracture my skull. I do have a spot on the left side if my heads that bled a little. However, I didn't discover that it had bled til about 3 this morning!

I staggered up and started for the house, but decided to take the extra time to close the electric gap...no need for Snippy to meander into the yard afterall.  By the time I stepped in the door and yelled, "Savannah!" again (in a weaker voice), my left shoulder and the back of my head hurt pretty bad. She got ice on me immediately and called Mama and Daddy--who then Skpyed. Granddaddy was worried and he came and sat down across from me--I was sitting on the coffee table. When I mentioned that needed something to drink, he immediately got to his feet and got me some water. I really did appreciate it, especially as I know how unstable he is on his feet.

Anyway, between us all, we made the decision to take me to the doctor. Turns out, I'm glad we did. Or else I'd probably damaged it worse. So....I'm in a sling. I went to the doctor this morning, though I didn't actually see him, and have a follow up in two weeks. They will x-ray me again at that point.

At the ER last night, they took me to the x-ray room in a wheel-chair big enough to almost fit two of me. The technican was nice and we kind of joked about it. I made some goofy remark about getting the 'royal' treatment--I could have walked down those corridors, but granted, it sure was faster in the chair! I also asked him, as we wound around, "Do you ever get lost in here?" He said that he had when he first started, but not any more.

Well...I'll see ya'll later!

        Racheal