No, no, no, Jack, it’s just…..yard art.

A week ago Art the Husband went to Chino for an airshow, he scrounged thru some “antique yards”

(read=junkyards/desert dumping grounds) for interesting old farming equipment to bring home as….um….well, ornament for the ranch. This is the only thing of interest that he found:

He sent me photos of it from his phone, and got the “Um, okay, sure….”. It took 4 dudes to load it into the truck. Slight problem. We don’t have 4 dudes to UNLOAD it from the truck. Regardless, he looked pleasantly hick driving his plow home.

The horses? Not amused. Moderately concerned, in fact, that work could be a possibility with that thing. Until we explained it was just a ranch ornament, lawn-art, if you will. Phew, horse crisis averted.

So the plow sat, for a week, in the back of Art’s truck, rendering it useless to drive (cruising thru the Central Valley with a plow in the back of your pick-up is okay, cruising thru Silicon Valley with the same plow in the back of your pick-up truck is apparently a different story, and is simply not done….okay, whatever) On Saturday we had a bbq for Greg’s 40th birthday (officially a Feeb…..another one bites the dust….). We invited Rob and Marianne, Liz and Paul Fraley. Ulterior motives were heavy….He-Fraley was all for it:

She-Fraley was having none of it. Smart girl, that one. I took pictures, which, at one point got me a nasty scowl and a bitter “You COULD put that camera down and come HELP, Lisa” which prompted a very thoughtful response of, “No, not with that attitude I couldn’t” And indeed, I would have just been in the way. The chickens agreed, they watched the unloading from a safe distance and with more than a little chicken suspicion.

Stine, Fraley and Andretti hashed out the logistics of getting several hundred pounds of iron out of the back of the truck.

It involved backing the truck up to the grade of the hill it was going to live on

And, of course, plywood (what project would be worth calling a project without a sheet of plywood, a roll of duct tape and a couple of two by fours?)

Everything was set up exactly as it looked in Art’s head. Concerns were voiced over 1) the width of the plywood ‘ramp’ vs. the width of the scary-heavy plow, and 2) the strength per square inch of plywood vs. the span of distance it would be required to support said scary-heavy plow. Both concerns were waved off by a very confident He-Stine. Eyebrows were raised, but it was agreed, the scenario pictured in Art’s head sort of made sense, and could just work. Art the Husband does a lot of thinking about things like this, so there was a fair decent chance his plan would work just fine.

And it did work, although there was one priceless moment, captured here on film, when He-Fraley cried out over the shriek of cracking-collapsing plywood “Oh shit, she was right!”

But it held, as AtH had predicted, and the plow came home to stare down two prissy horses and grace the front of the barn with a little bit of California agriculture history. And give the chickens something to play king-of-the-big-iron-thingy on.

After a few rounds of “a little to the left, no, more to the right, no wait….more to the left….a little more to the left….”

Stuff was put away

Sandplay (supervised by Greg) in the “giant cat litterbox” (as observed by Rob)

Fraley, Rob and Art got our bikes out of the barn and cleaned them up, oiled parts, adjusted brakes and took them for a spin around the driveway.
Fraley likes my bike, even though I could see his vagina when he was riding it. Trek is a good bike. I love that bike.

Horses still weren’t sure. Andretti was drawn into their discussions, they filled his brown-dog brain with all sorts of doubts, ending with the possibility of Brown-Dog having to pull that thing around.

Dinner was bbq shish-kabobs, grilled potatoes/sweet potatoes and corn. I got a watermelon at Costco for dessert, very good. Rob, Marianne and Liz went home after dinner and a completely mind numbing round of Star Trek Trivia, which Greg won hands down. A birthday victory, followed by a trip to the Dublin IMAX theater to see a midnight showing of StarTrek. I stayed home and drank rum and diet coke and pounded out emails to unsuspecting recipients.

Haa haaa haaa, a good day overall! I love holiday weekends.

Sundays are for fun? Okay, if you insist.

We survived the Farmers Market a half an hour before closing and came home with strawberries, peachs, olive oil and asparagus. And a headache. Too many cultures swirling around each other haggling and arguing in languages foreign to me. Half an hour before market close is NOT a great time to go, for future reference.
After the farmers market, we got Jack’s flat tire fixed:




With Jack all fixed up, balanced and aligned, rollin’ with 4 good tires, we headed out to the Livermore Shooting Range with my new ARF, Art the Husband’s .308 and new .45 S&W 1911. I really like his 1911,
it shoots very true and is a decent weight to handle.

Art picked up a forward-handhold for the AR-15 last weekend, with a pop out bi-pod. I didn’t think I’d like it, but combine that with the HUD sight and man, it’s pretty accurate. It’s a good weight too, with relatively little kick, so it’s easy to shoot and you don’t have to ice your shoulder afterwards. 🙂


I do not, however, like the poser 30-round clips:

30-round clips are illegal in California (go figure), it’s a felony if you get caught with one, I think. They’re crimped at the 10round mark, so basically they’re just cumbersome to handle and maneuver. I see a couple of shorty 10 round clips in our future. A good time was had by all, okay, it was just Art and I, but we had fun and came away very dirty.
I get my Kimber this week, so I’m guessing we’ll be out there again on Friday or Saturday.

We decided that nothing beats an afternoon of shooting stuff like sushi for dinner, so we went out for dinner then came home to work the horses a litte, watch hockey and scarf down some of the strawberries we got at the farmers market.

So, conclusion? Yay for Sundays, but only on long holiday weekends, because otherwise I still do not like them. They mean the end of something good (the weekend), and that, I do not like.

cows and guns

Art left for Chino yesterday for the airshow and gunshow. I took Dretti down the hill to Livermore. We saw cows in the park, and of course Dretti had to stare, stomp and tell them off until they vacated.
The road to our house (which I refer to as our 3 mile driveway) runs through the park and is really pretty this time of year. Note that the Jeep has been modified to accommodate Andretti: passenger seat removed and rhinolined for maximum paw-grippage.
We went out to Livermore (Andretti and I) so I could add another weapon to the arsenal:
A very basic, no frills Kimber ultra CDP II .45. I saw it when Art and I went out to the gunshop in Livermore on Thursday to get hearing and eye protection, and it fit so well, I went back for it yesterday. I’m now officially part of the system. The ARF we picked up a couple of weeks ago is registered to Art the Husband, as is every other gun we own. This one is mine. Fingerprinted and everything. Fanfuckingtastic.
We came home and I decided to practice loading both horses into the trailer. They both did very well, no refusals, Jack christened it with a huge pile of poo. Way to go, Jack. I did notice that Jack pulled a shoe somewhere in the pasture yesterday. Time to call the farrier again. I sponged them both down with fly spray and fed, only to see Jack, and subsequently Izzy go nutso itching and scratching. Literally slamming themselves into the stall walls, scrubbing their sides and necks and face and butts. This initiated emergency bath sessions. Good thing I brought them in early, it was still light out and fairly warm. It worked. No more itchies. I’ll toss that fly spray, don’t want to go thru that again.
Today is all yard work and lounging, I’m pacing myself. Maybe I’ll wash the Jeep. It really needs it.

It’s RED!!!

After Isabella showed up last January, Art and I started seriously contemplating getting a horse trailer to haul their asses around in, seeing as car seats in their size aren’t really practical. After a few false starts back in February and then a wandering interest, we went out today and found a ride for the kids. And it’s RED! AND SHINEY. Did I mention that it’s red??? Here, look:
And it’s got a super cute butt, although we’re going to have a ramp installed next month for easy loading of horses and ‘stuff’.
The tack room is awesome, with swing out saddle racks and a 32 gallon water tank in the corner and lots of hooks and pockets and a boot box thingy.
It’s a three horse Logan slant, which is about one horse more than we need,
we have Jack:
And Isabella:

And no intentions of ever getting a third, seriously. So a 3 horse trailer was a little excessive…..but we do know folks with one horse who might be interested in joining us, and we got an amazing deal on it (the two horse model was several many thousand dollars more with fewer features), this is a brand new 2007 three horse slant Logan with all the amenities that we were looking for. And…’s RED!
So now, it is here, in the driveway after a harrying ride up our road. Poor Art the Husband is still twitching. Ehh, He’ll get used to it. Izzy walked right into it tonight. This is good, because she’s my hard to load horse. We’ll see what Jack thinks about it tomorrow.
For now, I’m squealing on the inside. It’s very awesome, and it was a decent price. Very happy. We needed a trailer for these guys.

House of Pain, part deux

Last time, okay, all the times past, it’s been Andretti who’s jacked himself up in one way or another. Viral papilomas at 6 months, followed by kennel cough, bronchitis, clogged tear ducts, persistant giardia infections, ringworm (oh, that was fun), a broken toe, a stubborn abd. incisioin that refused to heal after he was pexied. Add to that the rather large grab bag of weekly lacerations, punctures and general scar inducing scrapes….oh, and the broken hip, did I mention THAT?

Well, it seems the golden child has finally had her turn at it. My little invincible D-Square blew a medial collateral ligament on her right rear inside toe. I don’t know how it happened, I was leaning on the gate watching them run in the pasture, they didn’t hit any gopher holes or rocks. She turns on a dime, at speed, so that’s probably where it happened. So 3 hours later she comes up lame.
this is an upside-down shot of her foot, the right marker marks the right side of her right foot
this is the normal side

and the busted side, the red arrows mark the busted ligament.

So I wrapped it at home and had Gary Brown take a little looksie at it on Monday. I knew it was blown, just a matter of what could be done. According to Dr. Brown it was lax on a scale of 0-3….a 2.75. So surgery could be done for the best possible outcome (less risk of a tire flying off at high speed on the freeway sort of scenario) so surgery it was. Even though my friend Helen was quite dead set opposed to it. She’s an internal med. doc, she likes to let things linger and see what happens a bit too much when it comes to orthopedics, in my opinion. That approach has worked for her, but I have a good competitive running dog, and I don’t want to worry everytime I release her.
So D-Square had her surgery on Tuesday. I love those guys, the VOSS team. They are so nice to me….so generous. I have it real good where I’m at, everyone who works there does.
She got her preop drugs and stuff under my desk, and proceeded to trip a good one for about an hour at my feet. She threw up something raw and foul. hmmmm. interesting. And under my desk. Nice. Then the girls stole her when I wasn’t looking to knock her out and get her prepped. Sneakys.
no kennel for my girl, under my desk privileges.
morphine stupor
double owwwww
in surgery with her modesty stickers in place.

The surgery went very smoothly, the lig. was 100% blown to shit. Like, one end over here and oh hey, the other end way the fuck over there. Damn girl, blow a ligament, okay? So Brownie cut and sewed and cut and sewed and lined things up and then pulled it all together like a bloody little corset, and the toe went “shwhoooppp”, and lined itself up all straight and shit. Amazing.
burnin’ bleeders. pesky little things.
the upper culprit, sheared clean apart.
three little sutures to hold it and make her new again. Phwew.
lift job complete!
All done, time for big bandagin’ and some pain meds, and under momma’s desk to recover. Privilege privilege privilege.
Last thing, he installed the sound system that will play the electronic-shwooshy-bionic woman sound everytime she runs. I paid a little more for it, but I think it’s going to be way worth it when we start lure coursing again!
Embarrassing party shot. I’ll keep this one to blackmail her later.
For now, she’s in a huge hard half cast that Dretti had custom made when he broke his toe (opposite foot, outside toe…sigh) It’s suiting her well, she gets around okay on it and isn’t worrying at it.

He toes swelled up yesterday, so we took it off and aired everything out, toe massaged, scratched paw pads and let things dry out. She was mildly disappointed when I started re-applying it. Get used to it Dee, we’re in for another 12 weeks. 🙁

Well, there goes that vacation (albeit a short one) that we were going to take in June. Well, maybe Art can get outta here for a while. He needs a break, bad.

Let it rain

Even tho its keeping up from mowing/weeding the yard this weekend, its nice to have some late spring rain. With any luck, it will help us thru the summer from having as much of a drougt scenario as we did last year. We never had our well run dry, but it was sucking up more sand/minerals than before.

Instead of mowing, Fraley helped me do some quick work on the Jeeps – oils changes and replacing the fan/serpentine belt on my Jeep which was all cracked. Gotta take it into the 4×4 shop this week for another diff/transfer case service – mine appears to be leaking 🙁