The Story of the Beast with Those Four Dirty Paws
We often leave our back door open during warmer weather so the dogs can run in and out freely. This has resulted in mud, leaves, wasps, cats, goats, and chickens coming inside. I don’t mind. They’re fun memory-making moments. We close the door at night, of course, because we also have raccoons, skunks, coyotes, wolves, mountain lions, bears, and bobcats. One day last June there was a kerfuffle from cats on the back porch. This usually means Jack (Nickajack) is hanging out, and another male cat has come around. Since Muggabee has been gone for well over a year, Pickwick moved away with the previous owner of the neighboring ranch,…
Let’s Find out Where It Goes
About two years ago we bought a sewing machine because I wanted to make a small curtain for Wicket’s bed area. She was used to sleeping in her cage at night, but I was tired of the bulky thing right by the bed. Our bedroom is very small. We have a queen bed and a side table, and that’s it. In fact, there wasn’t room for a dresser, so we had to stuff it in the closet. A large dog crate was just in the way. However, she seemed to enjoy the cubby feel of the crate, and I didn’t want to take that away from her. In the end,…
All the Long, Lazy Mornings in Pastures of Green
Last night we picked up Barnaby, the last of our three goats. Tesco and Silas have been here since June 17th. Silas and Barnaby were listed as “Nigerian dwarf” and Tesco was listed as a “mini Nubian.” None of that means anything to me since they’re not being used for milk or meat; that they’re not huge is all I really cared about. So far, having goats has been mostly pleasant. It’s quite a bit of work. More than you might think. My schedule is pretty solid. I’m up at 7:30 AM on weekdays and 8:30 AM on weekends. Except now. Now, in the back of my half-sleeping brain, I’m…
And Suddenly Everything Is Right
I finally bought my first proper pair of cowboy boots. I feel like it’s a rite of passage. Five years in Montana, you either get a pair of cowboy boots or a cowboy hat, your pick. Ten years and you get a pick’em’up truck. Fifteen years and you get one of those handlebar mustaches. I wonder if mine will bring out my eyes. Note: I’m not going to link to these boots because the prices are vastly different between sites, and the size inventory seems limited in nearly every instance. If I linked to a site with the best deal today, they may not have your size anyway. They are…
They’re Altogether Ooky
I need to tell you something before we get to the traumatic event of last night. I wear makeup when we go out on Saturdays. That’s the only time I will slather my face in paints. I have never worn a lot of makeup. My goal was always to look like a slightly improved version of myself. I had no interest in cat-eye liner and smokey eyes. Even with the minimal amount I used to wear, the thought of putting it on my face became more and more repulsive, especially foundation. For the last six or seven years, I didn’t wear any makeup at all. Ever. Then, sometime around the…
