madshutterbug: (c)2009 by Myself (Houdini & I)
Nigh on 13 years ago or so, Herself's brother Pasomthing brought out to teh Ranch two China Spots and a Yorkshire which he called Corky, and Corky a gift to his sister. In a scene which would prove prophetic, he plopped all three young hogs (a sow and two boars) into the same paddock as the goats, which amused the goats not one whit. It took a bit before even a corner of that paddock could be fenced off. It took a bit longer to get started on building individual pens for the hogs, and in fact involved the China Spot boar (called Dale, short name and as a namesake for one of Pasomething's favourite NASCAR drivers...) killing Corky.

Which is only incidental to the remainder of this story. Killing Corky, that is. Not the building of pens and fences.
Life on a Karst Formation, got a bit wordy not too bad... )

Day. Oh.

Jan. 4th, 2009 02:49 pm
madshutterbug: (c)2009 by Myself (Default)
A bit stiff and sore last evening, after all that maneuvering of the posing block to mount the casters to make it easier to move. Succeeded, it's easier to move. Stiff. Sore. Hot soaking tub helped with that.

Worked on some photographs today. Uploaded to a specialty site, will continue the working uploads over the next couple days so I can make a posting here.

Herself is home from SCA and Iron Chef Trimaris. The 'secret ingredient' this year (provided by the organisers) was... goat. Old goat. Tough, old goat. Tough, old goat with a lot of bone. Got made into stew for the most part, but Herself both wowed and weirded out the judges by quite correctly preparing brains and eyes.

Braaaaiiiiinnnnsss...

Hm, somehow zombie goat just... doesn't do it for me.
madshutterbug: (c)2009 by Myself (Expostulation)
Pulling in to teh Ranch yesterday on the way home from both work and Voting, I paused for a couple reasons. One of them involved a stupid goat who stuck her head through the fence to browse on something and couldn't get back through because of her horns. This is her second strike, meaning the next time she does this, she'll wait in the fence for me to come back with a 60cm stretch of Schedule 40 PVC tube and some duct tape. That will provide a headdress which prevents stupid goat heads from fitting through the fence. The other reason I stopped (only helped that Stupid Goat was close to this), and this leads to doing a reprise on this post, is that I saw Miss Peggy's sign had changed.

Readers will recall that Miss Peggy, an exemplar of a Southern Lady, objected to someone taking something off her property (that so you might not need to follow that link, and re-read the previous post). Now, in that post I'd left out specific candidate names, partly because it didn't seem the more important part of the story, partly because it was pre-election and I wasn't about to be part of casting particular aspersions. Truly, nor did Miss Peggy.

Political sign vandalism is not something new this go-round, I'm sure.

Day before the election, Miss Peggy got home from work (she drives a school bus for County, here) to find a note, anonymous, along with a sign at her gate. I am going to mention candidate names in this part of the story, because now it becomes an important part of the overall tale. The sign on the gate was an Obama/Biden sign. The note said (not an exact quote):

I'm sorry your sign was taken. I don't think that's right. I'm a McCain supporter, and I want you to know not all McCain supporters are thieves. That's why I got you a new sign.

So Miss Peggy put up her new sign in place, and changed the one she'd made to replace the old on, on both sides of it inbound and outbound on our road a single word.

Thanks.

And, night before the election somebody came along and stole the Obama/Biden sign. Again. By mid-day on election day, Miss Peggy found another sign and anonymous note on her gate.

I'm getting downright pissed at whoever is taking your sign. Here, I got you another one. McCain Supporter.

It was that new one I spotted coming in.

Herself tells me, though, that this isn't the be-all and end of it. Out at the end of our road, where it intersects with County Highway, someone put up on the electric pole across the road two more signs. I didn't read them on the way out though I did see them, large white pieces of poster-board. Couldn't read the writing in headlights because, well, headlights don't aim that high.

Sign #1: Why do you think McCain Supporters stole your sign.
Sign #2: Maybe the goats ate it.

Sign #2 is an injustice perpetrated on goats. No, goats will not eat 'anything'. Yes, goats will taste anything, but they do not particularly care to eat plastic, which is what those signs are made of nowadays.

Besides, I think Houdini had something to say on this too. Or maybe it was Smudge.

Bit

Sep. 22nd, 2008 09:22 am
madshutterbug: (c)2009 by Myself (harrison ford)
Some re-arranging on teh Ranch this weekend. Shortened up the circumference of Maternity Pen to exclude two oak trees which were otherwise being beaten up by the goats while we had goats in there. We've again now got goats in there, but it isn't maternity pen at this point, it's Anti-Maternity Pen.

Oh, yes, heavens it's true. Birth control! In this case, abstinence really is the best method, but to enforce abstinence (which, on reflection, would probably be true for humans as well as goats) requires a totally secluded and secure area where the bucks can not get at them. You see, it is essentially a problem of adolescent pregnancy. Regular readers may recall this entry, which concerned an adverse outcome of an adolescent pregnancy.

Don't want a repeat of that.

So now there are two adolescent doelings in the Mother Mary Pen for Wayward Adolescent Doelings, with a couple more to be added, because those doelings are coming into enough maturity to be hitting their first estrus. Which, of course, the bucks don't care, they are driven by those pheromones. So to keep the two groups apart, the Mother Mary Pen for Wayward Adolescent Doelings.

Since the grass has been allowed to grow around the pen, I also discovered quite a few ant hills. No fire ants, but the ones I did find expressed sufficient objection to their local environment being disrupted, thank you very much. Now I've a number of ant bites on my ankles and calves, as well as fingers and hands. Annoying. Not devastating.

In other news, it proved otherwise a nice quiet weekend. Some good news for one friend, some not so good news for another new acquaintance. Life is like that.
madshutterbug: (c)2009 by Myself (harrison ford)
Herself did the feed run yesterday, she told me when I called to check in that I left Hospital. As it turned out we passed each other in Archer. Twice. I saw Forrest NissanPickup at the feed store as I went past. I stopped at the Post Awful to check the box, and she was in our road, stopped and unloading the horse feed when I pulled onto teh Ranch. So no feed run today. Houdini was disappointed.

Instead, after making morning rounds, we loaded up Forrest NissanPickup with a lot of paper and plastic for recycling and a bit of the trash ready to go, and headed off to the County Dump did Houdini and I. Trash cost us $1.50, recycling is free. I swear Houdini gets quite concerned when we're there. Probably because that's also where the County Animal Control Shelter is. I reassure him he is coming home with me.

We ran into Archer to check the Post Awful after the Dump, because Popper Aussie Ot-tar said he expected a package. It arrived. All the ot-tarz are over in Studio 318 just now and I don't want to know what's happening. So I'm continuing to clear out the Home Office in the Big House, preparation for moving Herself's workstation in here from the other room.
madshutterbug: (c)2009 by Myself (Me&Mini-Fred)
Fairly good day yesterday, training superusers from one of our sister Hospitals in the clinical documentation application. It did take the full six hours scheduled. Plus, I went in earlier than that for preparation work. Still, not a full 8 hours. Stopped on the way home for dog food and some miscellaneous items. Fed the critters, fed me, relaxed a bit, went to bed.

Couldn't sleep. Got up for a while and viewed a site I go to occasionally, then back to bed. Still woke up around the usual time this morning. Actually, now, it's really about time I want to get off-line and go feed the Ranch critters. There are things to do today, including feed teh Ranch, laundry (which will include ironing two shirts, no more), and putting together a shelf unit for Studio 318.

I expect Herself sometime after noon. She went down south this weekend for family estate business followed by an SCA event (day-trip), followed by a bit more family business and intended to stay overnight. So, sometime today, probably after noon. Biggest reason I want to get started early feeding teh Ranch is because of the humidity. Oh, it will be hot as well, that just makes the humidity rather unpleasant.

Working inside Studio will be much more pleasant. I expect Houdini will come with me except not to do the laundry.
madshutterbug: (c)2009 by Myself (Default)
He was 11 months when we bought the place, just a year when we moved onto it, and at that age his shoulders already came up to mid-thigh on me. One day soon after, while we worked on some things he explored nearby (in the area which is now, in fact, Squrrl's spot) and set up the Alert! Alert! bark while bouncing about in the brush. I went and checked it out and he'd spotted A Rock That Moves, which is not normal, you know. I explained that it was a young gopher tortoise (about 7 inches long), and that it was OK, it belonged here. He sat back away from it (so it would calm down), and watched it start walking away, followed it over to where it had a burrow. Often, later on, he'd check out the other burrows about the place, now knowing What Lived There. Sometimes we would see Gopher moving along from one burrow to another, and snuffle at them before leaving them to go their way. And life was Good.

Long about four-five years later, during the nice balmy months when we can leave doors and windows open, Herself heard an odd muffled bark at the front door. Wormf! Wormf! She went to the door & there was Kuma, with something in his mouth. Somewhat concerned that he'd bitten something and it got stuck, she checked him out and he gently, gently placed into her hand a very fresh-hatched baby gopher tortoise, about 1.5 - 2 inches long. She praised him, turned around to grab an empty planter to put the baby tortoise into, and when she turned back Kuma was gone.

Back again in about 10 minutes. Wormf! Wormf! She went out to him, and he again gently, gently placed into her hand a very fresh-hatched baby gopher tortoise, about 1.5 - 2 inches long. And immediately took off around the corner of the house. Back again in about 10 minutes and gently placed into her hand another very fresh-hatched baby gopher tortoise, about 1.5 - 2 inches long. Off immediately around the corner of the house.

This went on for 15 baby tortoises.

And Herself assured Kuma he was a good dog, while calling Baja Jorja Fish and Wildlife and told them she had these baby tortoises to hand in. Yes, she knew they are endangered, that's why she called F&W. Yes, she could meet the F&W agent in Archer in 10 minutes. She brought Kuma along with her, because she knew the agent would want to know how she acquired this many endangered baby tortoises. She told him the story, with Kuma standing over the (now in a cardboard box) clutch of baby tortoises, wagging his wee stump of a tail so fast and hard he couldn't hardly stay upright, because he knew he had saved these Baby Rocks that Move.

Mr. Agent said, 'If I hadn't of seen this dog, I'm not sure I'd of believed it.'



This story is dedicated to St. [livejournal.com profile] slave2tehtink of the Terrapins.
madshutterbug: (c)2009 by Myself (harrison ford)
The type of fence we use primarily, is 'rated' as 20 year fence. The first round of fencing we put in lasted pretty much that long. Part of the reason the goats had been wandering the 'Home Compound' during the winter is because one stretch of that fence had become holes with patches of fence. You may recall I mentioned a few weekends ago replacing that fence. The new part is working well.

The longer stretch, along our private road (it seems too long to call it a 'driveway') is now fence with patches of holes. Goats are hard on fence, not because they chew it. Goats are actually somewhat maligned as eating anything. They are herbivores. In fact, they're actually somewhat fussy herbivores, preferring to browse rather than graze which means they'll prune all your decorative shrubbery before they start mowing your grass. They are hard on fence because they'll lean into it and walk (oh, look, a back-scratcher! ahhhhhhhh). They will also rub their heads on it to mark, particularly the bucks as they have a musk gland somewheres between their horns, or where their horns would be if they're hornless goats.

If they're horned goats, then those horns go through the gaps in field fence (the type we used nearly 20 years ago). Not so bad on new fence of heavy enough gauge. Nineteen year old rusty fence doesn't stand up to this well. That's how the holes with patches of fence came about. The one we replaced. With 'no climb' fence, gaps too small for goat horns to get through.

So now they're working harder on that fence along the private road. This morning I went out to feed everyone and found the goats out contemplating going on walkabout. They quickly followed me back into the paddock, since I carried that bucket thing that's got the Good Stuff. They moved particularly quickly when Mamma Mudge Bordercollie encouraged the laggerts to Move Along Now.

After feeding everyone, then I walked along that fence to figure out where they'd made the most recent big hole. And found two. Plus another smaller one by an area Herself previously reinforced with wood slats off a dead piece of privacy fence once used as a shade roof. For goats. Ingrates.

I've finished patching those holes. The real fix is to replace that stretch of fence, and we've got the materials to do so. However, Herself as previously mentioned is off to SCA again this weekend being a feastcrat for Trimaris Arts and Sciences. So I hauled a couple old cattle panels over, and used those to patch the previously patched section and a large hole nearby, and then cut some short lengths from some other field fence (newer, also lighter gauge then the existing fence) and spliced them over the other large hole and a couple small ones which the youngsters were going through.

I think it will hold them about 36 hours. Which means sometime on Monday, Herself will be dealing with rounding up goats to put back into the paddock. I imagine next weekend we'll be replacing the entire stretch of fence.

Fencing. One of my favorite activities. Just not the kind that involves fence posts and wire fabric.

Dayz

May. 26th, 2008 07:49 am
madshutterbug: (c)2009 by Myself (Expostulation)
After getting fairly to very good connections on teh Ranch's Old, Rural, North Central Baja Jorja phone network dial-up the past couple of days, today we are crawling at the somewhat more common 26.4 Kbps. It figures. This speed makes surfing the web a rather boring thing, actually, and would certainly not suffice for anyone with serious ADHD. So not much for the morning, I'm sure. Maybe again later.

Dinner last night was good, a nice visit with S&K as well as a couple other neighbors I don't see often. S, who is a blacksmith no he does not shoe horses he's not a farrier, is making a display stand for an acquaintences broomhandle Mauser. For reasons which will become apparent soon, this really tickled me. For those who may care, it's a Spanish copy of the 7.63 mm version of the C96. The broomhandle name came along because the original wooden stock would fit onto the grip to extend the piece and help with aiming; either that or because the wooden grip looks like a broom handle. Not sure totally, and it just isn't terribly important to me just now.

Most everyone has seen them different times, different movies. One features in the first Indiana Jones movie, Raiders of the Lost Ark, and Harrison Ford carried one with cosmetic modifications as Han Solo's blaster in the Star Wars films.

With such a slow connection, it's fairly easy to stop perusing the 'Net and head off to make morning Ranch rounds. Perhaps later. We'll see.
madshutterbug: (c)2009 by Myself (Default)
First week back to work after parting company with Mr Stone. Actually, first three days back, since Tuesday was a holiday and I didn't go to work the day before the holiday. Survived quite nicely, I suppose. This included a few very cold nights, something that happens here in North Central Baja Jorja around this time of year, occasionally. Cold enough to be concerned about frozen pipes and water points for livestock. All that survived nicely as well.

Today we made rounds, and treated one kid who looked less than perky. Vitamins, minerals, some de-wormer and de-louser treatments (three internal, one external), and we'll keep an eye on her. The rest of them did well through the cold. The maternity pen has a shelter in it, and everyone bedded down in there that's in the pen; windbreak to the north, and bedding hay, plus an overhead. The free-rangers bedded down outside the maternity pen, but next to the goats within, taking advantage of that windbreak. Horses, Cows, Pigs, and Border Collies all did fine.

This evening we go out to dinner, to a local SCA event, St. Benet's. So I've got to dig out some of my Japanese clothing, as it's a dress-up affair, don't you know.

Monday, follow-up appointment with urologist and hopefully the stent comes out. Thus will all the saga of Mr Stone be about wrapped up.

Time for lunch.

Be Happy

Oct. 18th, 2007 07:21 am
madshutterbug: (c)2009 by Myself (harrison ford)
Procrastination can be an art form, but like all art forms individual works must eventually be completed. I've heard from some that art pieces are never completed, per se, just brought to a point when the artist decides, I'm done, and turns them loose. So it's time to turn loose on a particular procrastination project.

Quite a few years ago, we purchased a pre-build 'garage' (not really a garage), 12' by 24' building, which when delivered we set in the shade of the oaks which comprise what we call Kumamori on the Ranch. Herself uses this building as Carmenetta's Cottage, and primarily for sewing. It's been wired, partially insulated, partially panelled, and in need of finishing for some time.

Several months ago, I put in a time off request for this week to go to a conference on Nursing Informatics out in Denver, hosted by AORN. After reviewing the overall economy a bit before heading out to Vegas for FredCon, we decided perhaps the trip to Denver wasn't in the book (keeping) after all. I did not, however, inform Hospital that the time off was available for them.

So this week we are completing the insulation and ceiling panelling of Carmenetta's Cottage. As of yesterday we are 2/3's done. That, following sending Herself off to run errands she needed done for the Levy County Fair (upcoming in a few weeks), me and the Bros making Ranch rounds and feeding the critters, and then Mamma Mudge and I making a feed run. Following errands on all parts we ate lunch, started some laundry, then started the insulation project.

The insulation itself we purchased last year; well, possibly early this year. At any rate, it's been in the Cottage waiting to have its dimensionality re-arranged and placed between studs and rafters. It's not a difficult thing to do, putting in fibreglass insulation; it can be an itchy thing to do. However, individual parts move along quite easily.

Today we figure to finish placing all the insulation (there's only 10 more batts to place for the roof/ceiling), then cutting the panels and start putting them up. I want them all cut by early afternoon, as there is rain in the forecast. We can put them up while it's raining, after all that's inside work. I shall want to make the sawdust outdoors, though.

With the ceiling done, there remains only the west wall; Herself is planning on starting that while I'm cutting the panels. The two end walls when done will both be paneled with cedar chipboard; the east wall already is. Against that entire 12' length of east wall we mounted Kitchenmade wire shelving; that's Herself's fabric storage. Hmm, lessee, six shelves, 12' long by 18" deep... you do the math. *G*

The west wall will require a bit more work, as I'll need to do some framing; it will be a cedar closet for completed garments. For those of you who do or have played in the SCA, this is a big part of what Herself puts together in the Cottage. Some is for herself, other pieces she's made on commission, and a good deal of what's made is by others, receiving sewing lesons. So the doors to the closet will be a set of sliding mirror doors.

But getting that insulation and the panelling done is the primary concern. The west wall is sort of insulated as is, what with all that clothing hanging on a closet rod there. The roof/ceiling mostly was not, and summertime could be quite warm in there. Even with the shade from the oaks of Kumamori and a window unit A/C rated for the square footage. We're thinking about getting a second of those units, for another (of the four) windows. Our theory is two will need to work half as much to keep the place cool.

Meanwhile, Houdini is happy because BossStaysHomeDays started early. Boss is happy because I'm keeping the cook happy; well, and getting to spend time with Houdini and his Bros, too. Herself is happy because we can already feel the difference walking in (and not merely because temperatures are already dropping overall; we're still hitting high 80's F/low 30's C daytime). Plus, the insulation work requires us to move things around, and moving those things around will eventually require Herself to break down the initial work station. She wants to re-vamp the layout after working in there for those aforementioned several years.

'Works fine when I'm working solo,' she says, 'but when I'm teaching, we need a better layout for everyone's machines.' I'm not sure about the everyone's. I mean, I think two people she's taught over the years brought their own machines with them. The rest used one of her several. In fact, I've even got a ocuple sewing machines. Only one is out in the Cottage though.
madshutterbug: (c)2009 by Myself (Expostulation)
So yesterday after work, I played 'I'm in ur Internetz Steelin ur Bandwidth' with Hospital's connection. Wandered over to GlobalScape's website and looked at the CuteFTP part of the site again. Turns out, they've got older versions available for download. Ah.

Gleefully stole some more bandwidth to download the version of the software I do own (and possess the serial number therefor).

Meanwhile, back at teh Ranch, I then installed same on Herself's PC, inserted the Tab A serial number in the appropriate Slot A, set up the Levy County Fair site, and c'est voila! She is in business.

And for this, I received arroz con pollo salsa for dinner. I is a lucky guy.
madshutterbug: (c)2009 by Myself (Expostulation)
Long Term Readers will recall from a couple years back a bit of fiction writing here involving my Border Collie Brothers, the annual Otters convention known as Buddha-Con, and the church on the next piece of property. Don't worry if you've missed it, you can catch up on my parts (and others) in that lunacy by jumping through my Memories or Archive or whatever LJ is calling it these days, looking for Buddha-Con 2004 or 2005 or some such... it will be the earliest Buddha-Con entry there.

This, however, is not related to that, other than it discusses the church next door, as it were. It doesn't look like a church from the outside. It's (at least to me) a fairly small congregation, and it's not from one of the major denominations. Most of the work they did to the building, they did inside. Usually twice during the summer months (early, and late) and again during the winter months, the congregation would host revivals and one could hear them singing and such from near a half-mile away. This usually constituted the most noticible activity there, other than their gathering each Sunday.

For the past two years though, they've not been seen much at all; not on Sundays nor for their annual get-togethers. I've occasionally chuckled to myself quietly over the coincidence of the story-telling and the actuality. But as the story-telling is just that, bits of interactive fiction, there truly is not relationship than coincidence.

Last night, the structure experienced a fire.

The Bros were sounding off through the night, and both Herself and I went out on several occasions to see what might be setting them off; there were (are) a couple young bovines from our next door neighbor's who've found a hole in the fence and decided the grass is greener on our side. That probably constitutes at least one such alarm. Herself says she saw what looked to her at the time like heat lightning in that direction on a couple of walk-abouts. Now she's not so sure. And just as she headed back into the house after her 04:00 walk, she heard approaching siren and heavy truck noise, didn't go investigate, and thought it could of been one of the mobile ICU's which are what we call ambulances these days.

Turns out the Williston Fire Department was still on site this morning about 08:00 when our next-door neighbor drove by. She called us, to give us the news. We didn't leap out to go investigate. Early afternoon when I headed over to Williston on the feed run, I can tell that a number of vehicles used our road/drive extra-gate as a turn-around zone (there's a lot of space there, rather deliberately, to be able to maneuver a livestock trailer if needed). And the west end of the building is collapsed, and obviously burnt.

Now, representatives of ATF are out doing some investigation. "'Curiouser and Curiouser,' said Alice."

Entirely too much excitement for this neck of the woods. Might be getting too crowded. And yes, good readers, the directions to our place do include 'Turn off the paved road onto the dirt road', many Locals are known to travel with actual shotguns (as opposed to say umbrellas or such) in those shot-gun racks inside their pickup trucks, and in fact those pickups and other 4WD type vehicles are actual sports or working vehicles as opposed to Yuppie Assault Vehicles. I would be hard-pressed to pick out the scratch from a keying on Forrest Nissan Pickup amongst the other scratches and dents put there by young bulls and underbrush.

People consider it to be polite to sound one's horn a hundred feet or so from a house when trying to raise attention, rather than going up and banging on the door. It's not unusual for them to come up and visit that way at all, either. Particularly someone wanting to know if there's goat or hog available for sale just now.

But burning buildings? That's hardly the norm around here.
madshutterbug: (c)2001 by Myself: Photographed in the Miyazu Gardens, Nelson, New Zealand (Meditation)
I entertained high hopes for this weekend and making a post about art and phenomenon. This weekend would be optimal, because of timeliness. Also to work on some more photos, either cataloging or actual image work, but as you've seen so far it hasn't happened. Instead my weekend turned into... nothing. Nada. Zilch.

Well, OK, not total Zilch. Did get in a feed run yesterday for the cows. Two, actually, as the clerk at the farm supply rang up the wrong item for part of the order. I needed to go back to the Ranch for the original invoice, though, to exchange it. That done, the cows are happy. Or will be this morning, because all they got yesterday evening at feed unloading time was opportunity to make cow boo-boo faces. Feh on them.

Also, not total Nada, as I've spent wonderful time with the Bros. Smudge is doing guard post at night out with the goats, so he's getting reward time during the day. Houdini is happy because, according to him, I'm keeping the Big Thunder away. Frankly, I wouldn't mind some more rain, with or without thunder. But Houdini is happy. Squrrl either twisted a fore-paw joint, or just acted like it to get his attention dose, but whatever. A bit of reiki to a dogs paw, no problem.

Other than that, lots of simply flopped time. I expect it's due to the amount of energy I'm spending at Hospital, not totally in productive matters, and consequences thereof. I think it's starting to do things to my blood pressure too. Well, as I've mentioned (cryptically, admittedly, but that's all you get right now) there is change in the relatively near future. What change is still undetermined.

Hey, [livejournal.com profile] betnoir, you can call your bats home any time now, eh?

So from perusing the ol' Reader's List (oops, I guess that's supposed to be Friends List...) it seems that all, for me, is pretty much on a par with all of you. Things are happening, some good, some less so, but all happening. I expect this is, truly, much better than at least one alternative.
madshutterbug: (c)2009 by Myself (Expostulation)
It was a weekend.

Thursday-Friday night, Squrrl (of all dogs) popped his line. Not a big problem, as he simply stayed home, and probably chased off whatever was bothering the goats. So toward the end of an otherwise Day the news was added to it that Squrrl needed a new line. KthxCanDo.

Saturday... it rained. Glorious rain. Tropical Storm Barry wept upon us and the grasses are grateful. Saturday evening after the rain passed, I gave Squrrl his new line and he was happy.

Saturday night... Squrrl popped is line. Whatever he chased off this time, our next-door-ranch-neighbor found him out in the middle of County Highway 241 (so, upwards of a kilometer/half mile from home). Fortunately, on Sunday mornings 241 doesn't have a lot of traffic. Also fortunately, our neighbor recognised Squrrl and brought him home. Needless to say, tomorrow I will revisit the store wherefrom the line was purchased, with line and receipt in hand. The lines we use are rated for dogs up to 225 pounds (that's a shade over 100 kilograms, eh?) For a 60 pound Border Collie to pop a brand new one? Hmm.

Today, errand running with Herself. Herself is happy. Errands involved prepatory work for redoing flooring through about half the house, and early prepatory work to renovate the kitchen. Squrrl is in his kennel (instead of out with the goats...); dinner is consumed, and I am off for a hot soak.
madshutterbug: (c)2009 by Myself (Expostulation)
Slept in. Marvelous. Well, did get up partway through the night, as the Bros were quite ademant something was going on, and I figure they may of scared off a possum. Definitely discouraged a raccoon, as it ran by me. Nothing quite so humourous as a waddling running raccoon.

Made morning rounds with the Bros and Mamma; all goats present and accounted for, moved from Maternity Pen out to paddock. Cows were not amused to see Mudge; he brooks no disrespect from bovines. Tomorrow, possibly Monday we may need horse feed, but Herself did stock up on goat and cow.

Took a nap. Ahhhhhhhh.

Read a bit, then went out to feed teh Horses for the evening, and move goats from Paddock to Maternity Pen. We've lost a couple more kids, but not to coyote. So the plan seems to be working, and we'll continue it.

This evening, leftover Young Male Bovine. I intend to slice it thin and use some of the wasabi horseradish sauce on it, along with a side of green beans.

Tomorrow, more work on photos, and check with Sparr if they're open Monday. If not, I'll get horse just to be safe. I think there is likely enough to make it through until Tuesday. But I also like teh Horses, and will spoil them a bit.

After dinner, a hot soak. Glorious. What is it Houdini calls it? Oh, yes.

Boss Stays Home Days. *G*
madshutterbug: (c)2009 by Myself (Ninja Pyrates!)
Did not go to Hospital yesterday. Back bothered me, tired, variations on that theme. So I did not go to Hosptial. By afternoon, felt a bit better and so drove Herself about for errands. Our land tax Certificate of Deposit is purchased, something we've done for nearly 10 years now when we receive our income tax refund. This provides a small amount of interest earning and a great amount of peace of mind, knowing that the money to pay this year's property taxes is safely tucked away where going after for some other reason will invoke a penalty. The CD matures just before the taxes are due. If we've enough in savings at the time (has happened a couple times) not allocated for other projects, we'll let the CD roll over. Otherwise, Property Taxes! Yeah.

Then off to Home Ditto for shelving supplies. Herself is re-doing our Utility Closet. On the floor plans, this was called the Utility Room, and has the hookups for washer and dryer. Our washer and dryer were on the enclosed back deck of Studio 318. Well, OK, they still are. We're contemplating putting them over here. Means that small room, or large closet (depending on viewpoint) needs a more efficient shelving plan, and Herself kept herself busy yesterday working on that. Drove the cats bonkers. What? What? Why are you changing our universe, Monkey?

Because we can. Because, cat, You Don't Have Thumbs.

Also picked up milk, and a few other groceries, and paid the U.S. Post Awful their rental on the mailbox. We don't receive post at teh Ranch. The mail box would be too far from the house, and twice a day most days I journey through the local community and so we use a post office box address. That's good for another year. Also nice that we paid it yesterday, because Monday the rent goes up. But we're good.

Then home. Time with the Bros. Who are most annoyed with the local coyote population, and so we've begun bringing all the goats into the Maternity Pen at night. Daytime (since the kids are now big enough to keep up with the herd) they go out to their paddock, but night time we bring them up closer to the house. Which provides the Bros opportunity to return their annoyance with the local coyote population. The coyote's are annoyed that shopping at teh Ranch for fresh meat just got so much more expensive. Well, yeah, it's worth their lives now. Heh.

Today, studio work, but not making photos, sorting through photos and cataloging, as well as some other work. Thursday evening was a shoot for the new Levy County Fair Association, doing a group portrait of the Executive Officers. Why yes, it's an inside job, as I'm a founding member of the LCFA. Hasn't been a Levy County Fair for nearly 50 years. We'd like to see one again, regularly. Will keep you posted on that.

Right now, breakfast. It's what's for champions. Or something like that.
madshutterbug: (c)2009 by Myself (Expostulation)
Despite my less than successful attempt at spelunking under the edifice knowns as Studio 318 to assess plumbing damage, this weekend provided quite a bit of success. Dinner on Saturday with S & K at their place, curried shrimp. I'd offered Young Male Bovine, but the shrimp was already on the menu. Much laundry was done, and even though that constitutes activities of daily living it's still success.

Between and during doing laundry, [livejournal.com profile] dogboysca stopped by for a visit while in Baja Jorja on leave. Good to get that visit in, too. Showed off some photos done since he'd departed, caught up on progress in his life, and later he joined us for dinner. We enjoyed that Young Male Bovine the shrimp bumped off the menu Saturday.

Spent time with the Border Collie Bros. Always good, spending time with one's dogs.

Watched a hawk work one of our paddocks, near by the spot where we feed teh Horses. Bits of feed grain splashed out of their buckets by hungry Horses attracts doves and other birds, and very possibly squirrels and other rodents as well. Smart hawk!

Messages

Apr. 21st, 2007 04:57 pm
madshutterbug: (c)2009 by Myself (Shutterbuggin')
Crawling underneath the old single-wide which is now Studio 318 tells me two things: I am not so limber as I was when we moved out here 18 years ago, and I probably need to re-think bringing water service back to this 27 year-old no longer mobile home.

That I want to bring water service back is not the question. I do, for many reasons. The old flexible plastic plumbing gave up in September/October of 2004, after all the power loss/power surge episodes brought about by the hurricanes. Actually, it would be the surge in water pressure that did it, but since water pressure comes back with electrical service here on teh Ranch (joys of one's own well, eh) the two are intertwined. I may still try to get to the site of the known leak tomorrow.

The problem is, that mobile is set close to the ground. There's the minimum 18" ground clearance at the closest approach, which is at the very end where the old bedroom, now office is. So where the break is, there's room for me to crawl, sort of. See, there's these two long I-beams which make up the frame upon which the place is built; there's insufficient clearance between ground and I-beam for me to fit anymore. Maybe. As for crawling from the end with the greatest ground clearance, that route I tried first. But there's the small matter of the drain tube to the septic tank. That crosses the width of the place, and between the high end and the break in the plumbing. And guess what... there's insufficient room for me to fit between that tube and the bottom of the floor joists anymore.

Or at least I don't feel too comfortable about trying it.

We'll see. Fixing the break would be the easiest means (probably) to get water service back. Otherwise, I'll need to run new tubing along one edge of the place, underneath it, and up to the respective sinks, toilets, and shower. Also, I probably wouldn't be putting water back to the original bathroom in this plan; that's next to the old bedroom/office, not a lot of ground clearance there. One functional water closet, with shower, is better than none.

September 2015

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