tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-118954692009-07-17T19:24:54.868-06:00Mulewings"Success is the Best Revenge"Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11773318159420863765noreply@blogger.comBlogger754125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11895469.post-40533116364050542222009-07-15T03:58:00.001-06:002009-07-15T04:01:10.036-06:00Wednesday....just this...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sl2oZF-mqmI/AAAAAAAACww/5EV8HH98pDM/s1600-h/redskyatdawn.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 269px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sl2oZF-mqmI/AAAAAAAACww/5EV8HH98pDM/s400/redskyatdawn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358624280695712354" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;">This was taken on my drive to work yesterday morning at 5:28am.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;">I parked on the side of the road and had to step out.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;">I wish I'd have been able to stand there and watch Mother Nature display her bag of tricks...it was a beautiful show that I could only glance at once in a while on my drive....</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;">Some days I just love my drive to work.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11895469-4053311636405054222?l=mulewings.blogspot.com'/></div>Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11773318159420863765noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11895469.post-47148635919061924302009-07-14T19:24:00.005-06:002009-07-15T03:57:44.049-06:00Mule Withdrawals<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sl0wQmTzzmI/AAAAAAAACwo/Skf9JZCUhP4/s1600-h/06+26+09+033.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sl0wQmTzzmI/AAAAAAAACwo/Skf9JZCUhP4/s400/06+26+09+033.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358492193360432738" border="0" /></a><br />Mule withdrawal is an ugly thing.<br /><br />It creeps up on you slowly. It sneaks up on you when you are not looking.<br /><br />It is silent...<br /><br />It can be quick to come on and BAM ~~~<br /><br />hits you right where it hurts.<br /><br />And suddenly for no reason at all, you are craving for it...<br />For the smell of mule hair and dust to fill your nostrils...the feel of dirt on your hands, and the odor of a damp sweaty blanket.<br /><br />Your co-workers give you an odd look. They don't understand, of course they couldn't.<br />They don't ride a mule.<br /><br />I think my mule is having withdrawals also.<br />He stood at the gate when I pulled in tonight and started braying.<br /><br />Dang, I love my mule!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11895469-4714863591906192430?l=mulewings.blogspot.com'/></div>Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11773318159420863765noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11895469.post-86464249025800367872009-07-13T20:00:00.003-06:002009-07-13T20:16:42.119-06:00Berry Pickin'<span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Imagine my surprise when I said I'd like to go pick wild black caps and black berries...and my husband said that he'd go with.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" ><br /><br />I gave him a look and said...</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >'What, you'll come and watch?.. and keep and eye out for the Bear?'</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" ><br /></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >He shook his head.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >'Nope, I like picking berries.'</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" ><br /><br />I was floored. </span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Totally.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I didn't think berry pickin' was a man thing.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >But hey I shouldn't complain right? This was a second pair of hands.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" ><br />So at noon we left with a thermos of ice water, the dog [Morris] and some pickin' pails that were actually plastic coffee cans rigged to hang off our shoulders.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >And picking is what we did. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 102);">[Even Morris who eats them right off the briar]</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3393/3670736221_554b88f91d.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3393/3670736221_554b88f91d.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >We did discover an incredible berry patch though.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" ><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);">Wild yellow raspberries! </span><br /><br />They were so tall that we couldn't reach the top of the canes to pick, but had to carefully pull them down to us to get the delicious fruit.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" ><br /><br />The berry patch was surrounded by a fallen cherry tree, wild grapes, horse nettles, and some black berries on one side. <br /><br />The patch was thick as could be.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >My old long sleeved shirt suffered many small tears from the muti flora rose and the old berry canes.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Our take?</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >2 1/2 gallons of black berries.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" ><br />1 1/2 gallons of yellow berries.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" ><br /><br />I cleaned them and crushed them into portions when I got home and froze them.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Today's work will yield me 4 lucious batches of black and yellow berry jam, two pies, and several bowls of tasty berries to eat.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" ><br /><br />I'm so glad that berry pickin' is a <span style="font-style: italic;">Man Thing </span>too.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11895469-8646424902580036787?l=mulewings.blogspot.com'/></div>Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11773318159420863765noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11895469.post-22303960257941010772009-07-12T07:35:00.006-06:002009-07-12T07:44:55.564-06:00Mini Vacation<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Slnoxp9QhfI/AAAAAAAACwQ/PxflffgsFRw/s1600-h/DSC_0098.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Slnoxp9QhfI/AAAAAAAACwQ/PxflffgsFRw/s400/DSC_0098.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357569171507938802" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SlnnpPoK9oI/AAAAAAAACwI/MV8JnRxIYN0/s1600-h/DSC_0105.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SlnnpPoK9oI/AAAAAAAACwI/MV8JnRxIYN0/s400/DSC_0105.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357567927489590914" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Slnm7brqWaI/AAAAAAAACwA/1KL_Vl9fH3s/s1600-h/DSC_0050.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Slnm7brqWaI/AAAAAAAACwA/1KL_Vl9fH3s/s400/DSC_0050.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357567140451473826" border="0" /></a><br />I'm about to embark on my trip back towards home.<br /><br />At the momment I'm sitting in my son's living room and typing on his laptop...[nice laptop Ed, I like it!]<br /><br />Believe it or not, this 'old country' gal came to the city for a weekend get-away. Well, I also love watching my son run the Lake Michigan Half Marathon~~and photographing it.<br /><br />I'm not going bore anyone with my weekend details except to say that I got to go shopping, did a movie with other gals, and generally enjoyed a relaxing time.<br />In short,I had a blast.<br /><br />At some point today, I load up the truck and head back across the state towards home.<br /><br />There are black berries to pick and a lonely husband waiting at home.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11895469-2230396025794101077?l=mulewings.blogspot.com'/></div>Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11773318159420863765noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11895469.post-65955552577931354002009-07-08T12:27:00.005-06:002009-07-08T12:55:15.920-06:00Snarky<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Snarky~</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Adjective - Any language that contains quips or comments containing sarcastic or satirical witticisms intended as blunt irony. Usually delivered in a manner that is somewhat abrupt and out of context and intended to stun and amuse. Origin: Snark="snide remark". </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >So today I was 'snarky'. I think.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Hubby and I went to town to get some 'supplies' and decided to stop and eat at Culver's which is something we don't do often.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >We rarely eat out at fast food joints, but let's just say that 'Butter Burgers' can conjure up visions of artery choking food.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >My goodness don't people look in the mirror any more these days before they venture out in to the public?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >What is with the hip hugging -faded -dirty -look jeans on teenagers that are at least 50 lbs or more overweight?</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Combine that with a hot pink t-shirt that is skin tight so as to show all the jiggling cellulite and leave not </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >one shape</span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" > under the shirt to the imagination. Ouch.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Where were the fashion cops?</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >This girl had a major violations that should have been written.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >The bad hair dye job that was meant to be red~~but it was some reddish color from hell that combined with an awful tinted purple-ey color. Her hair wasn't even washed, but hung in stringy strands.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >And the poor thing must have fallen into a fishing tackle box before she went out. She had metal protruding from her eyebrows, lips, nose, and oh</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >yes...</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >she had one of those tongue things too.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Not to mention something sticking out from her belly button ~ it was visible ~ more than we needed to know ~ inside that hot pink shirt.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >The rhinestone high heeled sandals really set the outfit off.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I wished then that I hadn't had lunch.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Behind her came a grandma with her flowered house dress and plaid flannel shirt. When the wind gusted I got a glimpse of grannie's undies.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I'm not going to town ever again.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >NO</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >not ever.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11895469-6595555257793135400?l=mulewings.blogspot.com'/></div>Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11773318159420863765noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11895469.post-85099308298765862162009-07-07T21:07:00.006-06:002009-07-07T21:28:18.151-06:00Sunshine of my heart<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SlQSSm6N7zI/AAAAAAAACv4/pJyZ5VD01EQ/s1600-h/2520944220_d82a1c4582.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SlQSSm6N7zI/AAAAAAAACv4/pJyZ5VD01EQ/s400/2520944220_d82a1c4582.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355925967742037810" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">This is Sunshine, daughter to Cheyenne who just had 'Sundance' on June 5th.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3130/2631089810_3cc330a3c0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3130/2631089810_3cc330a3c0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">As you can see, she is a pretty special little mule. Both my husband and I ride her and she has 'earned' the right to carry our Grandson Dennis. She is short, about 56" or a tad bit less. But that makes her easy to get on and easy to get off.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Plus you can duck under tree branches.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/74/187226438_49a2edfb54.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/74/187226438_49a2edfb54.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">So imagine my horror last night as I walked out to watch the hose fill the water tank in the meadow and I saw Sunshine desperately trying to walk.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 102);">It looked at first like she'd </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 102);">broken </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 102);">her </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 102);">leg.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I screeched out my husband's name [I am not a screecher by nature].</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I kept hollering.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">He went out to her and we quickly decided that she needed to come in out of the pasture and get up by the buildings so we could look her over.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Something strange and even more horrible happened. Three mares that are her pasture mates came charging at Sunshine, teeth bared and ears back. Sunshine tried to run from them and crashed face first into the ground ...and rolled.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">If I'd had my pistol, I'd have been shooting at some horses. Her molly pasture mates stood by and watched curiously.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I was sure she had a broken leg. After talking to the vet and the farrier, they think she probably has an abscess in her hoof.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">We were not able to find evidence of one, but did find a tender spot.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sunshine is now inside in a large stall. </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">You'd think she'd be happier getting no hassle and nice bedding.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Typical mule.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">She loves having her people around and absolutely puts up a fuss when we leave.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Epsom salt soaks are on the list right now with some bute for pain.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">She's feeling good enough to paw at the stall door lightly with her 'lame' foot when she feels that she ought to be fed.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">We are in the wait and see mode right now.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11895469-8509930829876586216?l=mulewings.blogspot.com'/></div>Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11773318159420863765noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11895469.post-29119018032228008022009-07-04T20:40:00.006-06:002009-07-04T20:58:37.138-06:004th of July Parade in Folsom<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SlATRP7j36I/AAAAAAAACvo/Yzd56KDVhxs/s1600-h/framed+shot+folosm+school.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 342px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SlATRP7j36I/AAAAAAAACvo/Yzd56KDVhxs/s400/framed+shot+folosm+school.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354801143998570402" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SlAS1QA5KiI/AAAAAAAACvg/p8P7PyWoono/s1600-h/07+04+09+009.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SlAS1QA5KiI/AAAAAAAACvg/p8P7PyWoono/s400/07+04+09+009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354800662984600098" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >My wonderful daughter Stepanie decided to join me on my 4th of July Parade through Folsom Township.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I cannot tell you how much fun we had. This would be a 'girl' thing, I guess...we had so many giggles and laughs as we walked and trotted the back roads of Folsom.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-family:verdana;" >We passed 8 residences in 6 miles.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-family:verdana;" >We waved at 43 people in vehicles and yards [yes we counted!]</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 102);font-family:verdana;" >We encountered 9 dogs.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:verdana;" >Welcome to the second annual Folsom Parade </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:verdana;" >which by the way</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:verdana;" >doubled in popularity since last year...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I just may have something going here!</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11895469-2911901803222800802?l=mulewings.blogspot.com'/></div>Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11773318159420863765noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11895469.post-17269432379347582592009-07-03T21:03:00.004-06:002009-07-03T21:28:26.113-06:00Bugs~Bugs and July<a style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sk7I_Os102I/AAAAAAAACvY/Dbn_uNB_10c/s1600-h/06+28+09+030.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sk7I_Os102I/AAAAAAAACvY/Dbn_uNB_10c/s400/06+28+09+030.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354437995593585506" border="0" /></a><br /><a style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sk7IR_egFtI/AAAAAAAACvQ/I7avwHHOVfI/s1600-h/july-3rd-ride.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 305px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sk7IR_egFtI/AAAAAAAACvQ/I7avwHHOVfI/s400/july-3rd-ride.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354437218412795602" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">This morning my hubby said we should catch up a couple of molly mules and take a morning tour to check out the wild berry status.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">OH, yeah, I jumped on that one!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">I finished my morning coffee and sped out the door to assist with chores, then headed to the 'Molly Meadow'...also known as the girls' pasture.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">I whistled and banged on the gate.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Mica and Sunshine showed up first and I caught them.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">With my heart doing a little happy dance, I led the mules over to our horse~mule trailer and tied them up.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">[by the way Sunshine is the new foal's half sister...same mom, different Jack...she is also Badger's half sister!]</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">I brushed Mica's silvery grey coat and then did Sunshine 'the good little red mule'. </span><a style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sk7HjB_Ny3I/AAAAAAAACvI/PV1gcVOjWOA/s1600-h/07+03+09+003.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sk7HjB_Ny3I/AAAAAAAACvI/PV1gcVOjWOA/s400/07+03+09+003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354436411633027954" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Then I ran inside and mixed up my super secret homemade potion of fly spray.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Generic brown listerine</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Water</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Witch Hazel</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Noxzema ~~ the kind that comes out in a squirt bottle</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Apple Cider Vinegar</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Oil Essentials of:</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"> Eucalyptus</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"> Lemon Grass</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"> Peppermint</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"> Citronella</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">A dab of Dawn liquid dish soap [blue]</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">...and a few drops of Premetherin [for quick knock down of the flies]</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">I must say this concoction works pretty darned good on the mules and it is cheaper than buying any brand of horse fly spray. It works just as good as the costly stuff. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">I also rub Mentholatum ointment on the ears when the deer flies are bad ... you have to re~apply, but it does work!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Well after a spray down we headed out in the deep woods. Riding Sunshine~~ who is just a hair under 14 hands is a delight, but we stirred up the skeeters big time going through the dew damp brush and weeds. Some of the burdocks were taller than Sunshine and I!!!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Finally we got out in the valley and met up with some 4 wheelers where we sat and talked.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">After heading up the old ridge road, we scoped out the berry patches ohhhhhh, they were bountiful!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">We made it back home just in time for the Grand kids to show up.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">After playing with the kids all day I had to take a nap so I can go on duty at midnight.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Tomorrow I invited my stepdaughter to join me on my parade.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Gosh, before I knew it, my solo parade has doubled in one year...from one person to two!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Maybe next year I can bribe another rider to go along with us!</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Happy 4th.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11895469-1726943237934758259?l=mulewings.blogspot.com'/></div>Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11773318159420863765noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11895469.post-52033745896330741752009-07-03T05:19:00.009-06:002009-07-03T05:40:39.416-06:00Night Rider<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sk3pf4B2w9I/AAAAAAAACuw/RRTjh9sDs4E/s1600-h/07+02+09+014.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sk3pf4B2w9I/AAAAAAAACuw/RRTjh9sDs4E/s400/07+02+09+014.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354192265838773202" border="0" /></a><a style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sk3puavnhNI/AAAAAAAACu4/GLFRMG-VPXw/s1600-h/07+02+09+015.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sk3puavnhNI/AAAAAAAACu4/GLFRMG-VPXw/s400/07+02+09+015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354192515675686098" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >There is nothing quite like a 'night' ride.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >The scent of the woods while the evening dew is falling.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >The sounds of birds as they call out to each other before going to 'bed' at night.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >The clear and beautiful calls of the wood thrush which if you are really interested you can listen to it here:</span><br /><a href="http://www.learnbirdsongs.com/birdsong.php?id=32"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >http://www.learnbirdsongs.com/birdsong.php?id=32</span></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Badger and I crossed several steep ravines and enjoyed the gathering dusk in the valley. A low fog was begining to creep across the creek.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I pointed him towards the 'camp' road which leads up and out of PeeWee's Valley.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >He did a 'freeze' and popped his head up. </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >The head of a small buck rose out of the tall grass next to the creek. I could see his velvety antlers.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >[darn too dark in the valley to take a photo!]</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >We sat until the buck wandered away and then proceeded up the old hill road.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I pointed out all the black berry bushes to Badger, I don't think he was as excited as I was to see the abundance of berries.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Although, he does accompany me on my berry excursions. I can move about PeeWee's timber much faster with a mule...</span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >and hey, any excuse to ride right???</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Half way up the hill road we disturbed some turkeys that were getting ready to roost.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Dang! Talk about it raining turkeys!</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >[</span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >good boy Badger for taking this in stride...</span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >]</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >At the top of the ridge we paused to watch the sunset. The valley was already in darkness, so we decided to get on the old gravel road and head towards home.</span><a style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sk3rc3I2LVI/AAAAAAAACvA/jg-F619Yo80/s1600-h/07+02+09+020.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sk3rc3I2LVI/AAAAAAAACvA/jg-F619Yo80/s400/07+02+09+020.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354194413083307346" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >To my wonderful mules, I owe so much.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Thank you Badger for this wonderful night ride...</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11895469-5203374589633074175?l=mulewings.blogspot.com'/></div>Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11773318159420863765noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11895469.post-21451391456211585512009-07-01T04:00:00.006-06:002009-07-01T04:21:17.348-06:00Driving to work...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2171/3536867893_0a95b31f16.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 308px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2171/3536867893_0a95b31f16.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2078/3537679172_259842855a_m.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 193px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2078/3537679172_259842855a_m.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sks0nk780nI/AAAAAAAACuo/gQjcB0JE3jQ/s1600-h/P4230006+080.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 287px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sks0nk780nI/AAAAAAAACuo/gQjcB0JE3jQ/s400/P4230006+080.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353430436594635378" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I drive 30 miles to work and everyone says to me...'gosh, isn't that far?'<br />or<br />'isn't that such a horrible drive?'<br /><br />I look back on the past 9 months of going to work and think.<br />Nope ~~ it isn't always horrible.<br />Sometimes it gets tricky and the roads are not too great [winter!].<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sksz4msmb3I/AAAAAAAACuY/vnK0-Ydd76I/s1600-h/hwy-82.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 309px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sksz4msmb3I/AAAAAAAACuY/vnK0-Ydd76I/s400/hwy-82.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353429629613272946" border="0" /></a><br /><br />But there is always an adventure.<br />The scenery I drive through is stunning.<br /><br />Back roads, black tops, hills, ridges, valleys, and fogs.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sks0GNgKEUI/AAAAAAAACug/2dpU8ZJIapQ/s1600-h/05+23+09+026.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 290px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sks0GNgKEUI/AAAAAAAACug/2dpU8ZJIapQ/s400/05+23+09+026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353429863368364354" border="0" /></a><br />Deer, racoon, coyote, dogs, loose cattle, cats, 'possum, and the occasional fox.<br /><br />Farm machinery, buses, and Amish buggies.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/139/327657338_aaf6832ae7_m.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 180px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/139/327657338_aaf6832ae7_m.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />So, I feel sorry for all those folks who have to take the ho-hum way to work, where the ride is not adventuresome nor compelling like it can be to me.<br />It gives me time to think...and unless I am running late, it gives me time to relax and enjoy the drive.<br /><br />On this note...I hope you all enjoy your day.<br />I am on my way to work soon and will enjoy mine!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11895469-2145139145621158551?l=mulewings.blogspot.com'/></div>Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11773318159420863765noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11895469.post-84077770597893146242009-06-30T04:06:00.006-06:002009-06-30T04:22:43.855-06:00Back to work...<a style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SknkH9caJUI/AAAAAAAACt4/0-jrTB0od_A/s1600-h/drop.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 248px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SknkH9caJUI/AAAAAAAACt4/0-jrTB0od_A/s400/drop.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353060457510479170" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">I had a few days off which is unusual for me!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">I rode Siera Sunday night and she is coming along just as sweet as ever.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Sunday during the day, between raindrops, Morris and I went hiking.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Morris loves to hike.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Morris loves to do anything he can with me.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">What a great little fellow.</span><a style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SknkcyRQU1I/AAAAAAAACuA/VJY5iU8lVZc/s1600-h/06+28+09+010.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 256px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SknkcyRQU1I/AAAAAAAACuA/VJY5iU8lVZc/s400/06+28+09+010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353060815288161106" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">We spent time in the creek bottom exploring and looking for more plants to ID. I found the deadly nightshade.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">It is toxic...and related oddly enough to the tomato plant.</span><a style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sknlo-03mRI/AAAAAAAACuI/l8emWQXIyqg/s1600-h/beware+of+the+nightshade.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 269px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sknlo-03mRI/AAAAAAAACuI/l8emWQXIyqg/s400/beware+of+the+nightshade.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353062124328818962" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">I'm going to be busy this week balancing 11 hour days along with 'farm' duties. Then on Saturday I start my new week of work. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">When I get off Saturday morning, I plan on getting Badger and adorning him with ribbons like last year...and having my solo 4th of July parade.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Silly, but it sure was fun!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Also...I've got to keep an eye on the black caps...they are turning red!</span><br /><a style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SknmtCchh5I/AAAAAAAACuQ/-aB7ChKHWuU/s1600-h/06+28+09+026.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SknmtCchh5I/AAAAAAAACuQ/-aB7ChKHWuU/s400/06+28+09+026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353063293531555730" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">So we'll be out there just a pickin' and a grinnin' pretty soon...Badger, Morris and I!</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11895469-8407777059789314624?l=mulewings.blogspot.com'/></div>Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11773318159420863765noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11895469.post-36487984387993934872009-06-28T06:28:00.009-06:002009-06-28T07:03:26.915-06:00Riding and shooting...cameras!<a style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Skdi4Phy8EI/AAAAAAAACs8/jij5LhfipNM/s1600-h/06+26+09+039.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Skdi4Phy8EI/AAAAAAAACs8/jij5LhfipNM/s400/06+26+09+039.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352355400533602370" border="0" /></a><br /><a style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SkdiRMHFi9I/AAAAAAAACs0/s36HWwX7wZk/s1600-h/06+26+09+006.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SkdiRMHFi9I/AAAAAAAACs0/s36HWwX7wZk/s400/06+26+09+006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352354729601371090" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">I cannot believe this month has flown by! It seems to have gone somewhere and I can't figure out exactly where!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Today we've had a wonderful break in the weather. The heat and humidity have lifted and we are to have good strong winds today to help dry things out.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Not a great day to ride, but perhaps Morris and I will go check out the wild berries and see how they are coming along.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">We did get to ride at Wildcat Mountain State Park on Friday. It felt much cooler under the huge green canopy of trees.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">I brought a different camera along for this ride and was able to get some decent photos, although that is very difficult in the lighting situation we were in.</span><a style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SkdktcxQOoI/AAAAAAAACtM/Z2AaxMAqEL8/s1600-h/06+26+09+052.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SkdktcxQOoI/AAAAAAAACtM/Z2AaxMAqEL8/s400/06+26+09+052.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352357414132791938" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Photography from 'mule' or horse is not hard, but does take some special considerations.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">A point and shoot pocket camera really works well.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">I used one and brought my FujiFinePix [older model with an auto zoom].</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">My old point and shoot, an Olympus Stylus 4 megapixel camera was what I always used to take. It really still does a fantastic job.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">The Fuji was nice~~I was able to take an action shot of hubby 'ditchin' and use the zoom to do some other shots I otherwise wouldn't have been able to take.</span><a style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SkdjZWiOEbI/AAAAAAAACtE/vKBDChzz_QI/s1600-h/06+26+09+043.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SkdjZWiOEbI/AAAAAAAACtE/vKBDChzz_QI/s400/06+26+09+043.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352355969350111666" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">I don't think I'd take the Fuji if I was riding a young animal as it is cumbersome and hangs around my neck. </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">The newer pocket cameras have a faster 'capture' speed which is nice for shooting action shots.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Lastly I guess ~~ is a no brainer. If you need to take a really beautiful shot of someone from the back of your animal.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Your animal MUST know how to stand still. </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">[<a href="http://artlesshorsemanship.blogspot.com/2009/06/havent-been-honest.html">HillBillyFarmGirl writes about standing still in her blog artless horsemanship</a>...such an important skill to teach your equine!]</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">[Badger hears the camera turn on and actually stops!]</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">You can use any camera and use the general setting and get good photos. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">A steady hand and an eye for beautiful or odd things makes the trip more memorable.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">A last word about cameras and photography. My father used to tell me that it did </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">NOT</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"> matter how expensive the camera was or who had the better camera.</span><a style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Skdp39Fr0TI/AAAAAAAACtU/zr2nbrEUthQ/s1600-h/06+11+09+005.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 358px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Skdp39Fr0TI/AAAAAAAACtU/zr2nbrEUthQ/s400/06+11+09+005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352363092165251378" border="0" /></a><br /> <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">It wasn't the camera taking the shot, it was the person behind the camera.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11895469-3648798438799393487?l=mulewings.blogspot.com'/></div>Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11773318159420863765noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11895469.post-63890046321115776402009-06-26T05:04:00.006-06:002009-06-26T05:16:38.446-06:00Yard horse<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3569/3662571564_f2fa2a81e1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3569/3662571564_f2fa2a81e1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SkSr4iiNynI/AAAAAAAACsc/SisGDQSx6Dw/s1600-h/sundance.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SkSr4iiNynI/AAAAAAAACsc/SisGDQSx6Dw/s400/sundance.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351591245054331506" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SkSrW7YURBI/AAAAAAAACsU/xbUFDSbRqmE/s1600-h/06+25+09+005.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SkSrW7YURBI/AAAAAAAACsU/xbUFDSbRqmE/s400/06+25+09+005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351590667608146962" border="0" /></a>With the heat index rising too 106 degrees the past couple of days, we decided to move Cheyenne and her foal into the yard and under our large shaded trees. There always seems to be a nice breeze in the yard...so the solution?<br />Yard horsie and foal!<br /><br />So yesterday afternoon I took a camp chair and a book and joined them in the yard under the hickory tree. [of course with a camera in hand]<br /><br />Sundance wasn't sure what to make of me in that chair and circled me warily.<br />Was I really a human?<br />How was I attached to that chair with the funny legs?<br />How come I wasn't grazing?<br /><br />I'm happy to say that Cheyenne was quite pleased with her accommodations and as you can see, Sundance thought it was a great place to lay down and nibble on white clover flowers.<br /><br />Ahhhh, the life of a yard horse!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11895469-6389004632111577640?l=mulewings.blogspot.com'/></div>Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11773318159420863765noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11895469.post-74103103660383955352009-06-25T05:26:00.006-06:002009-06-25T06:10:31.683-06:00Evening Ride & C-130's<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SkNgI2Ksn6I/AAAAAAAACrA/DYKsI3s7MEU/s1600-h/06+24+09+011.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SkNgI2Ksn6I/AAAAAAAACrA/DYKsI3s7MEU/s400/06+24+09+011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351226487341883298" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SkNfPLZ3frI/AAAAAAAACq4/Ac11pCNrMfI/s1600-h/06+24+09+008.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SkNfPLZ3frI/AAAAAAAACq4/Ac11pCNrMfI/s400/06+24+09+008.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351225496610242226" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">It was a day SO hot it made your pants stick to your legs. Well I wore shorts, and they stuck to my bottom while riding the lawn mower.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Just before sunset, I grabbed an old pair of cargo pants and threw them on.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I ran outside and called for Badger.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">He came trotting to the gate [gosh what a great guy!]</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I put a headstall on him and took him to the overturned bucket in the yard. I stepped up on the bucket and hoisted myself up onto him.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Off we rode at a trot. I wanted to get to the ridge before the sun set completely.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The air was muggy, but pleasant [how could it be anything but pleasant when you are riding???].</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I was happy that Badger was doing the work and not me.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The sky was full of color and I began to take photos, while Badger stood patiently.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">He is a great 'mule tripod'.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I rode towards one of my neighbors who lives about 3/4 of a mile down the road. I could see her out with her cattle.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I turned to watch the sunset. It was gorgeous, going from bright oranges to deep purples.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Suddenly I hear a roar. I couldn't figure out exactly what it was and looked around for some gigantic tractors...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Then they appeared just over the tree tops ... coming out of the valley. </span><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.airforce-technology.com/projects/hercules/">C-130</a><span style="font-weight: bold;"> aircraft. If you've ever seen one of these, they are gigantic! They have a wingspan of 132 feet.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Badger merely glanced at them and then stretched his neck out to grab some long grass from the side of the road.</span><br /><br />[Being a resident of the Kickapoo Valley we've seen these aircraft off and on over the past 15 years. They come from Ft McCoy at Volk Field and use our rugged valleys as practice fly zones for Afghanistan practice I believe.<br />Generally these aircraft do not scare our livestock. We've of course heard others complain, but each time I get to see them, I am impressed.]<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">We returned from our ride with memories of a gorgeous sunset and a nice warm ride.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11895469-7410310366038395535?l=mulewings.blogspot.com'/></div>Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11773318159420863765noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11895469.post-295716804218126902009-06-24T06:38:00.004-06:002009-06-24T06:42:49.348-06:00HOT Wednesday...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SkIfJCBsSxI/AAAAAAAACpY/97hbI05ZlEs/s1600-h/06+11+09+010.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SkIfJCBsSxI/AAAAAAAACpY/97hbI05ZlEs/s400/06+11+09+010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350873547292822290" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SkIfCrfbb0I/AAAAAAAACpQ/8ZDRY-k47ck/s1600-h/06+11+09+004.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 328px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SkIfCrfbb0I/AAAAAAAACpQ/8ZDRY-k47ck/s400/06+11+09+004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350873438164315970" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SkIe2fc2dsI/AAAAAAAACpI/jpyE-naXmU4/s1600-h/06+11+09+001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SkIe2fc2dsI/AAAAAAAACpI/jpyE-naXmU4/s400/06+11+09+001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350873228773848770" border="0" /></a><br />These were taken last night while watering.<br /><br />Hot HOT yesterday and forecast the same for today.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 102);">Cheyenne and her foal are doing well despite the heat and humidity.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 102);">We've added crushed salt to her feed and she is behaving very normal now!</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11895469-29571680421812690?l=mulewings.blogspot.com'/></div>Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11773318159420863765noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11895469.post-69947060257642246402009-06-22T20:59:00.006-06:002009-06-22T21:22:11.068-06:00Momma don't go!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SkBG3YdyKTI/AAAAAAAACnk/L3plBe1wQm4/s1600-h/momma+don%27t+go.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 305px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SkBG3YdyKTI/AAAAAAAACnk/L3plBe1wQm4/s400/momma+don%27t+go.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350354274590271794" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SkBGX5Q2NbI/AAAAAAAACnc/_an65MyWGPA/s1600-h/blackwhitesky.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 275px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SkBGX5Q2NbI/AAAAAAAACnc/_an65MyWGPA/s400/blackwhitesky.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350353733638567346" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">I have a Jack Russell, his name is Morris. If you've followed my blog for a while, you know a bit about him.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">He is a bit spoiled, he gets to sleep on the couch, ride my mule, and can be a demanding little fella...plus he </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">loves </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">adores </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">cherishes</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">my grandchildren.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">I work as a part time security guard. I sort of fell into the job and have been there 9 months now. I enjoy every shift I work. I work all sorts of shifts, filling in here and there.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Tonight I work the 1st shift. Midnight to 8am.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">It is warm, but I will need my jacket inside the air conditioned area and so set it out on the couch.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">When I went to put something in its pockets, I found Morris huddled on it.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">I think he believes if he lays on my jacket, I can't go to work without taking him.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Funny little guy, he should know by now, but it doesn't stop him from trying.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">I've found him laying across my work shoes.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">He has had a very hard time adjusting to my 1st shift work hours.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">He is sure that I am mistaken. I should be in bed, where he can lay on my feet or snuggle up against my back...or perhaps even try to hog the pillow.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Alas poor Morris. </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">I am going to work.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">See you in the morning little buddy!</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11895469-6994706025764224640?l=mulewings.blogspot.com'/></div>Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11773318159420863765noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11895469.post-86392357903320438872009-06-22T05:08:00.007-06:002009-06-22T05:42:04.881-06:00Horse Enema<a style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sj9mnamFwbI/AAAAAAAACms/gH-L9n4ainc/s1600-h/06+21+09+001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sj9mnamFwbI/AAAAAAAACms/gH-L9n4ainc/s400/06+21+09+001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350107709679452594" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I feel desperate.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >It is 4AM in the morning.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I am sitting on dew dampened ground with Cheyenne's head in my lap. I can hear the gallon of mineral oil rolling around in her stomach, grumbling in there...sloshing when she walks and stretches.</span><br /><a style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sj9pfzeeMsI/AAAAAAAACm0/qOgy_NHdy-0/s1600-h/06+21+09+003.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sj9pfzeeMsI/AAAAAAAACm0/qOgy_NHdy-0/s400/06+21+09+003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350110877454316226" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >She is covered in old hay and dirt, mud clings in clumps to her mane. She has rubbed her face in the dirt also. This is not the normal horse I know who generally hates being dirty...and she looks awful. She has aged so badly in the past 24 hours that it scares me.</span><br /><a style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sj9pyimHGhI/AAAAAAAACm8/Oqk05iHdFfw/s1600-h/06+21+09+004.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Sj9pyimHGhI/AAAAAAAACm8/Oqk05iHdFfw/s400/06+21+09+004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350111199340468754" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I hold her head close to mine and her eyes close as I rub her cheeks, eyes, ears, and scrub under her chin...all her favorite places. I think, girl, don't check out on me now. We've been together for 17 years.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >17 years.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >That is a long time.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Fear overcomes me and I hold her head with both hands and rub my face against hers and plead with her as tears drip down my face.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >'Cheyenne, don't leave me. Girl, we have to get over this.'</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I checked her gums, and thankfully they are pink and not white like last night. Then I do the pinch test. She is not dehydrated either. So the meds and IV's have done there job.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I think 'twisted gut' and know that I've seen it before and she isn't showing classic signs of it.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >She just is plugged up and has a bad stomach ache.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Impacted.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >She groans softly and nickers to her foal, Sundance prances around and tries to nurse.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >A glow shows to the east, sunrise is coming. It has been a long night.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I watch the glow brighten into a sunrise through the clouds and see rays of sunlight and take them as rays of hope.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I get her up and start walking her, my arm draped over her neck, I hold onto her mane and she walks with me. Sundance darts back and forth.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >She stops and strains. She grunts and groans.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I wipe the tears from my eyes and run to the house to wake hubby. He needed his rest, but now I needed his help. I pour him coffee and he takes his turn out walking Cheyenne as I get ready for work.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >[having a sick horse is not an option for calling in]</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I leave for work, tears in my eyes and hope on my mind. What is the vet going to say?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Later I get a call at work.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >It is hubby. He'd waited until a decent hour to call the vet [after all he'd been here late!]. They discuss Chey and Rich asks if he can give her a 'Horsie Enema'. The vet says go for it and then call him, he would take his vet clothes to church and run out if this didn't work.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Rich prepares a solution of warm soapy water in a large syringe. He lubricates his arm with KY jelly and goes 'in'. He injects the warm water and feels Cheyenne make a big push. Swiftly he pulls out his arm and steps back.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Cheyenne ... well what other way to say this, but she has an explosive bowel movement, spraying mineral oil and manure every which way.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >After a few moments of this, she looks bright eyed and comfortable.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >She is nickering for food, takes a big drink and begins her day as if nothing bad had occured.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Equine are amazing animals. Fragile, yet so incredibly strong.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >And yes gross as it is, the Horse Enema did come to the rescue.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11895469-8639235790332043887?l=mulewings.blogspot.com'/></div>Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11773318159420863765noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11895469.post-33479525233094944652009-06-21T04:34:00.001-06:002009-06-21T04:36:27.880-06:00Update......on Cheyenne.<br /><br />This morning it looks as if we may be back to square one. She seems to be in pain and it looks like she spent much of the night on the ground.<br /><br />I have to go to work but hubby is out with her...<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11895469-3347952523309494465?l=mulewings.blogspot.com'/></div>Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11773318159420863765noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11895469.post-92089598456210186892009-06-20T22:28:00.004-06:002009-06-20T22:57:07.759-06:00She's worth it...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3299/3597421585_ff93174056.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3299/3597421585_ff93174056.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3319/3503633671_c30f868c4c.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 334px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3319/3503633671_c30f868c4c.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >She was down and couldn't and wouldn't get up...she was sweating, stretching and groaning.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >She wouldn't let Sundance nurse ...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >We got her up and began to walk her.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Cheyenne was in a lot of pain. She was passing manure but seemed to be cramping up.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >We checked her gums.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Her mouth was dry, her gums were white.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >My heart did an awful thud-thud in my chest. This was not a good sign at all.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I began calling vets. The first one I called was going out of town. He recommended a vet I didn't care for.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Then I recalled the shy tall lanky vet that had come out before when we had a mule with a slight colic.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I dialed him.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >He answered.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I gave him the details and he never hesitated and said he'd be at our place in a half an hour.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >He was, with his daughter who called herself a 'animal nurse' not a vet tech.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Cheyenne was severely dehydrated and probably was colicky. Dr. Anderson checked her out.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Cheyenne stood, her legs quivered. She looked horrible.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >5 hours later along with 6 bags of IV fluids, she was feeling quite fiesty and a bit testy at having a catheter in her neck.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Dr. Anderson along with his daughter had saved her life. </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >He surmised that it was caused perhaps by a feed change [we'd run out of our regular hay and had been feeding another kind for 4 days] along with the sudden onset of extreme heat and humidity coupled with her age.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Tonight he sat at my kitchen table while he and his daughter wrote up the bill and explained what they wanted us to do to encourage Chey to drink more water and how to hopefully avoid a relapse.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >He handed me the bill and said quietly and almost apologetically, 'Gee, this is a lot. I hope you think she is worth it.' <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);">[He was not being smug, it was more a comment on the fact that the bill was probably more than the amount of money that Cheyenne would be worth on the market place.]</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I smiled and glanced at the total. </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >'Yes, she is worth it, Doc. She has provided me with many years of riding and has given us one fine mule daughter that we ride, this is her second.'</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I handed him cash for the bill and smiled.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >My husband ushered them out the door~~it was now nearly 11:30 pm.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Doc and his daughter's last words were...'please call us in the morning so we know how she is doing.'</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Yep she's worth it.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >[She's doing very well right now and we'll be keeping a close eye on her.]<br />Thank you Doc, you are a wonderful vet.<br /></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11895469-9208959845621018689?l=mulewings.blogspot.com'/></div>Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11773318159420863765noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11895469.post-46400952154926637832009-06-18T17:41:00.012-06:002009-06-18T19:49:22.738-06:00Can equine really talk???<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/62/211186778_9c7c42c1b7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 438px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/62/211186778_9c7c42c1b7.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Okay first to the 'nay sayers' ... this is just my own opinion. I'm not saying a horse or mule can come up and say ~~</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Well how do you do? How was your day?</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Nope, and I'm not talking about what all the clinicians tell you:</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >'See when your mule/horse starts to lick its lips and drop its head?...'</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I'm talking a different language all together.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Really.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >And I have had my head examined.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >For example, today I worked with a 4 yr old mule that I've been working steady now for about 3 days. Before it was on and off for a year. When I first met Siera I felt something about her. I can't put my finger on it. But it was a feeling.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Maybe I read body language of animals and don't even know it. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Maybe those animals I really</span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" > 'connect' with...I really connect with for some reason?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Anyway, today was Siera's second day with a rider [me]. </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Some animals are particularly sensitive. Siera is one such animal. I ask her to do something with gentle force and she normally responds very well. </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Sometimes she plants her feet and 'says' no.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Then a small tap of the rope or reins gets a large reaction [but not a blow up].</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I rarely speak when riding a green animal. I need to keep my mouth closed so I can use my other senses.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >But I do get messages from my mules. Okay not...'Hey buddy, we'd like some sweet feed!' kind of messages.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >But subtle feelings.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >How did I 'know' today that when I tapped Siera on the butt with the reins because I needed to get her attention back to me...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >...that she was not going to blow and buck and fart...snort and breath fire.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Nope, all she did was lunge into this wonderful Paso gate which took us both by surprise.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >And I swear when I got off we both looked at each other and grinned.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >We had a wonderful working session.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >We both understand how to go forward together</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >turn right,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >turn left,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >circle,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >backup,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >and whoa [with a few punts and errors, but nothing to get worked up over!]</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I can say that we were both calm and pleased. Siera was pleased enough not to run off into the meadow and join her equine buddies [who were not even in sight].</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >She stood by me and dropped her head so I could scratch those lovely long ears.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I finally motioned her away with a flick of my hand, and she shook her head and galloped off.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >We hadn't 'talked' but we certainly had made some sort of communication.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I'm a happy person tonight.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11895469-4640095215492663783?l=mulewings.blogspot.com'/></div>Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11773318159420863765noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11895469.post-6449070834299376122009-06-17T03:54:00.004-06:002009-06-17T04:10:35.624-06:003 mules and one day<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3013/2881156090_6b39351c9c.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3013/2881156090_6b39351c9c.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2105/2595177418_e7c36f5535.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2105/2595177418_e7c36f5535.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3197/2618098574_455ccc8323.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3197/2618098574_455ccc8323.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />What can I say?<br /><br />It was a great day!<br />I rode Badger [top] in the morning to do some work on the trails, then headed off to town to do the dreaded grocery shopping...ugh.<br /><br />It began to sprinkle out, so walked out to see the girls and Siera [second photo] came up to me. We made great progress! She remembered all of last year's ground work and 'sacking out'. [I'd had to stop working her because of elbow surgery].<br />Well today we rode in the round pen. She knows her whoas and this is very important. And she is figuring out that a 'cluck' is asking her to move forward just as it did when she was being worked from the ground.<br />She and I rode for an hour! Her spook consisted of moving faster and gaiting...[she is a Peruvian Paso mule].<br />I was extremely pleased.<br />She didn't seem to want to let the 'session' end.<br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 102);">Good Girl!</span><br /><br />Then I needed to get the mail and there was Sunshine! [last photo] So I took her, saddled up and took the long way down the valley up the ridge through the woods .... <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);">about 3 miles out of the way so we could 'get the mail' </span>... and it was raining a nice steady rain.<br /><br />We had a fabulous ride also.<br /><br />I'm tickled pink and can go to work this morning with these rides 'holding' me over until I can get back in the saddle again.<br />[Tonight???? with Siera???? Whoooo Hoooo!]<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11895469-644907083429937612?l=mulewings.blogspot.com'/></div>Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11773318159420863765noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11895469.post-22041012205827360732009-06-15T08:05:00.004-06:002009-06-15T08:22:32.896-06:00A mailbox experience...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SjZVVr9puOI/AAAAAAAACmM/kQhByp9vfiY/s1600-h/Jun+13+2009+018.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SjZVVr9puOI/AAAAAAAACmM/kQhByp9vfiY/s400/Jun+13+2009+018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347555438615967970" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I opened my mailbox and shook my head in wonder.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >"Snail Mail"!!!!....the thing of the past...was in my mailbox. A hand addressed envelope and by the feel of it,...it was a letter.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Perhaps it was just a time warp and I'd wake up in the 1960's, the age when writing letters by hand </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >was still done</span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >. The age when 'spell check' and 'grammar check' did not exist, the age when you wrote by hand~~~and did it</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >neatly</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >so that the recipient could actually read what was written.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I can recall when my sister and I would wait for the rural mailman to deliver. It was one of the most significant events of the day in my grandparent's life. Of course, it was a big honor to get the mail for Grandma and Grandpa.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Back then the mail was not known for its volume of 'junk'.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >If a letter came in the mail, it was akin to receiving a gift of sorts. The letter would carry news from far off, details of someone else's life.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >We'd walk our ride our bicycles to the end of the driveway and drop the kickstands. Barefoot, we'd pad across the gravel road, or later on, the searing hot blacktop and gather the mail.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Of course we'd look both ways and sometimes we'd stand perfectly still listening for any sounds of traffic. Most of the time we were rewarded by the songs of meadowlarks and purple martins.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >But this isn't the 60's and I wasn't in a dream. I was standing next to my mailbox at 1 AM in the morning. My car was idling the drivers door open...[I'd just driven home from a night shift]...its headlights pointing off into the dark.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Above me the stars are bright and to the east and orange 3/4 moon is rising.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I turn the letter over in my hands and smile. It is from a friend in California...far and away. A real honest to goodness letter by its feel. Not an e-mail and not a text message or voice mail.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I smile again and do a little happy dance as I slide the envelope into my uniform pocket. The coyotes bark in the distance as I shut my car door and head into my 'valley'.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >I'll save this treat for the morning to read with my coffee.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Anticipation makes my fingers trace the edges of the envelope in my pocket.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >But my surprise 'Snail Mail' will have to wait.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11895469-2204101220582736073?l=mulewings.blogspot.com'/></div>Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11773318159420863765noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11895469.post-56368030513981117092009-06-14T08:47:00.003-06:002009-06-14T09:22:18.984-06:00Day Dreaming<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/38/102099639_032ec8f92d_o.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 308px; height: 450px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/38/102099639_032ec8f92d_o.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Last night I stood at the guard's gate and watched traffic in the late evening sun. Not much happens on a weekend shift so I was in a 'day dream' mode. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">The sun warmed me as it drifted behind the large ugly plant buildings. I see no beauty in the concrete structures, the cranes, the electrical cables, wires, and transformers...but there you are, I'm there and that is my view to the west.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">I rather look to the east and the river bluffs, watching the turkey buzzards float on warm updrafts. I once in a while spot an eagle who's presence is more prevalent during the winter months.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">The smell of the Mississippi river drifted past me. I could smell water, fish, and the scent of brackish waters.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: verdana;">With a sudden flash, I was back in 2001 sitting with my father on the pier in Kailuah Kona.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: verdana;">We'd just come back from an evening walk down Ali'i drive.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: verdana;">We thought we'd sit and watch the folks having a luau at the King Kamehameha Hotel along with the open air show they had for entertainment. We giggled a bit, as we got to watch the show from the pier and not pay a dime.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: verdana;">The show was a bit cheesy, but the dancers were pretty good and we enjoyed the music.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: verdana;">We talked about important things, and not important things. I think I'd just spent a day dragging him around the Big Island hunting for information on the 'wild donkey' herd.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: verdana;">Dad was insisting that I take the mule ride in </span><a style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: verdana;" href="http://www.gohawaii.com/big_island/learn/north_kohala">North Kohala</a><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: verdana;">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: verdana;">Tempting.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: verdana;">It would be a great all day trip riding mules down to the beach and back.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: verdana;">It would have been a great story for </span><a style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: verdana;" href="http://mulesandmore.com/mmhome.htm">Mules and More Magazine</a><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: verdana;">.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: verdana;">...and it would have been just plain fun.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">All this came back to me from a whiff of water and fish. Of course the rest of the night I spent my free time traveling down a mental memory lane.<br /><br /></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11895469-5636803051398111709?l=mulewings.blogspot.com'/></div>Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11773318159420863765noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11895469.post-67996055404996135582009-06-13T00:01:00.006-06:002009-06-13T00:14:32.988-06:00Adventure Time<span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Wednesday afternoon called out to me...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">I heard this little voice say~~~ 'Let's go riding!'</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Evidently Morris heard it also.</span><a style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SjNBWsT40xI/AAAAAAAAClc/lCA9ySpmkew/s1600-h/IMGP1791+023.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SjNBWsT40xI/AAAAAAAAClc/lCA9ySpmkew/s400/IMGP1791+023.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346689040726414098" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">We cruised the 'first' valley and spent a lot of time looking at wildflowers and admiring the beautiful June sky. The clouds were magnificent against the bright green backdrop of the valley.</span><br /><a style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SjNBucSqxzI/AAAAAAAAClk/Cn-QM_Q4HUY/s1600-h/IMGP1783+017.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 314px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SjNBucSqxzI/AAAAAAAAClk/Cn-QM_Q4HUY/s400/IMGP1783+017.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346689448743192370" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">We cruised the area checking out the status of the black~caps. I noted where the healthy bushes were and began to plan on picking them as soon as they ripened. </span><a style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SjNCY5OXQAI/AAAAAAAACls/UVRDZ7BdMp0/s1600-h/common+blackberry.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SjNCY5OXQAI/AAAAAAAACls/UVRDZ7BdMp0/s400/common+blackberry.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346690178064269314" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">We are now just eating the very last of last year's wild black berry jam. YUM.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">Badger was ever the patient mule [or lazy].</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">We even spent time wandering up on the ridge at the edge of the crop land.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">The corn is up now about 4 inches. We won't be able to cut across the crop land in about a month...the corn will be too high and the path alongside the field will be too overgrown with thistles and nettles.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">We dropped into the woods and explored the ravine...I am so glad that Badger was doing the steep climbing!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">When we arrived back at home [Badger, Morris and me], we found hubby had taken Miss Dinah out for a walking 'lesson' and had been working on the 'ear' issues.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">I think Dinah would have preferred to wear a bright red hat myself. But when I took this, she seemed quite content just to pose.</span><a style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SjNBJ8eWl5I/AAAAAAAAClU/3pn4If2IXtU/s1600-h/IMGP1797+029.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 283px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/SjNBJ8eWl5I/AAAAAAAAClU/3pn4If2IXtU/s400/IMGP1797+029.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346688821726975890" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;">What a funny and wonderful mule.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11895469-6799605540499613558?l=mulewings.blogspot.com'/></div>Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11773318159420863765noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11895469.post-84557902787141628262009-06-07T21:01:00.002-06:002009-06-07T21:05:29.701-06:00Dinah has arrived safely...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Six_cjldtUI/AAAAAAAACkM/WnROVdqwRzw/s1600-h/dinah.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 272px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__ewJphcpWrM/Six_cjldtUI/AAAAAAAACkM/WnROVdqwRzw/s400/dinah.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344786986347377986" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">More to follow as I don't have time to write tonight.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">[ I have to go to work and severe storms are moving in~~bright flashes followed by big BOOMS]</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11895469-8455790278714162826?l=mulewings.blogspot.com'/></div>Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11773318159420863765noreply@blogger.com1