I have been missing some very important papers lately and I am sure we will have some interesting fertilizer soon!
I haven’t lost a finger yet…..These Cow boys are amazing guys. Of-course horses, sheep, goats, are wonderful and our dogs, cats and pig (are) human but we are just getting to know about the cuteness of cows…..and it is really fun
Here’s another little critter that was born about an hour ago. Luckily it is a girl!
Sky is anxious to show off her herding skills.
This is becoming a daily ritual and they never seem to get tired of racing around the yard. It might be a rude awakening one of these days, when the grill is hot!!!
We owe the wonderful blessing of owning this awesome Australian Shepherd to our sister, Moye and I just found out a LOT about the Pomeranian breed in a great magazine that Moye gave us. It reads that the Pomeranian breed was originally bred as a sled dog and they weighed 30 pounds and up. Well, Okie our little 10 pound Pomeranian is not hindered by his bred down mini size. He knows when the alarm goes off in the form of a sharp, ear piercing bark that there is a sheep or goat in the yard. It is such a game for this one particular little pygmy goat…..she LOVES teasing them and they actually play together until Sky and Okie team up and decide that the game is over…..The goat has gotta go!!!!!!
Here I was on race day, the winner’s were probably half way through the marathon……*DNF (did not finish)
One of the highlights of the dedication of the Pam Stephens Center was a kiss from the head of the landscape maintenance crew. No gasoline or fertilizer needed with “NANA’S WEED -EATERS” Green is the new black.
After a big day riding, we played with the goats and made sure all the critters were safe and tucked in for the night. Not until then did we realize what a terrific appetite we had worked up. No body goes hungry around here. Quite a spread was waiting for us in the ranch house! While we were playing Cowboys and Indians, Tom was cooking up one of his famous recipes……After dinner we roasted marshmallows and told tales by the camp fire. No spooky stories, PLEASE!!!!!
We stopped by Pete’s Pub on our way to the covered dish social. The whole group we called La Prensa was there. We were in luck, they had a few beers and were more than willing to share what they had learned about Mrs. Ladrona, our suspected goat thief. She had been seen on several occasions all over town. Bart from the hardware store had sold her several bags of concrete. Normally her foreman, Soy Matadera would purchase the supplies, but he had left, as several others before him, without a word and she was in the middle of building a cement pond behind the house.”Mor’in likely around the whole house with one a them drawbridges judgin’ from all the damn concrete she bought”. Larry from the feed store had filled a special order of some large reptile feed and delivered it to her house. Seeing the place again, he recalled that her family was originally from Elmendorf and her grandfather had owned a successful construction company supplemented by a bootlegging operation. Tom and I were trying to listen to two conversations at once. “Did you say concrete BOOT business?” Tom asked. We were corrected by Charlie who added that they operated a saloon in addition to a petting zoo/meat market. The grandfather had trouble keeping steady help in the way of bar maids and to add to his misfortune his wife disappeared. Two wives in fact. The saloon had long since closed down. “Read it all in Texas Monthly back in ’02” Charlie said solemnly through glazed eyes and then added “Better give Sheriff Tate a call”
Family history wasn’t my concern at this point. I didn’t see what this had to do with my current problem of getting my goat back. I did learn that Mrs. Ladrona’s maiden name had been Ball and she was named Joe Ann, after her grandfather, Joe. It would be helpful to know her first name when I interrogated her later that evening. I wasn’t about to bother the sheriff about a goat. What we needed was the Animal Cops.
(Photo at Pete’s Pub)
We had decided to drop our covered dish offering and hastily find the woman that was our reason for being there. I finally spotted the suspect in the church hall mashing up something that looked like hamburger helper. I couldn’t think of what to say and either could she by the look on her face. Looking down at her hands kneading through the mixture, I blurted out “Soy burgers? Sorry to hear about your care taker” At this point, Tom bailed me out. “We have been wanting to find out about our goat” he said diplomatically. “Is she bred and ready to come home?” This seemed to set her off. She grabbed a butcher knife and started chopping up tomatoes vigorously as she glared at us “You’ll never get her back. She’s MY Mamacita de cabrito” That’s when we back tracked down the hall way and decided that maybe we should come up with a plan to get our goat back. A plan that involved calling the sheriff. We decided to mull it over at Rosario’s restaurant, but first I had to change into my shirt that RCP had given me……
LIMIT ONE MARGARITA
It was time for the Saturday Night Covered Dish Social at the church hall. I thawed some mac & cheese and decided to call my Mom. Tom was tired of my over active imagination and I don’t blame him. “Are you listening to me?” My Mom’s voice eased me out of my horrid thoughts.”I know you are worried about your goat” I had told her that I had not heard from the woman who was supposed to breed her and bring her home and that since she wasn’t returning my calls, I planned to meet up with her at the church where I knew she was going to be tonight.”I know what you should REALLY be worried about?” my Mom said seriously. I couldn’t think of anything more horrid than walking into the church and seeing my pet served on a platter….”Remember the last time you were at that church? ” Her memory is much sharper than mine and rather than nag and tell me I told you so, she just jarred my memory by saying “Be sure to wear THE shirt!!!!”
She was right, as usual!!!! The last time I was there I had somehow signed up to make cup cakes for the choir, babysit the toddlers during the 7 am service, makes doilies and pot holders for the nursing home and plant a flower garden at the front entrance. This was only on the week-ends…..I went up to my tidy and organized closet to find my shirt. I walked into the hall proudly wearing the statement pleading:
STOP ME BEFORE I VOLUNTEER AGAIN