I can't keep them all

The chances are good that Rojero will have a new home soon. The rescue seems to be getting a lot of interest in her recently. I should be relieved. This horse has cost us a lot of money between feed and vet bills. She came here with no medical history and teeth that looked like mountain ridges. She got a full round of wormer and vaccines. I also had her teeth floated and her feet done every 4 weeks. Add to that the emergency vet call, the colic, and the miscellaneous first aid supplies. Then there is the time applying ointments and changing bandages. That doesn't even take into account the 4 a day feedings, the round bale a week, and the double rations of oats. We should be able to save a lot of money when this horse leaves.

But with all of that time and money spent, there is the rewarding feeling of accomplishment. There are the pictures of her progress throughout the summer and seeing her fill out and gain weight. There is the time riding her and seeing the proof of her building strength. There was the trail ride when she was surprisingly well behaved and fun to ride. There was the day she came to watch me bleach buckets just so I could rub on her afterwards. There is the sight of this once weak, tired rescue coming running from across the paddock at meal times.

Then I have this fear that I'm sure all rescues experience that she'll leave me to get passed around again. It's already happened to her once in her life. It is obvious that she was once a well cared for, well trained horse that someone loved. Then she went on to be starved and neglected in someones too small backyard. And she's only eight. How much more of that will she be forced to experience over the next 20 years? Is it wrong to want a forever home for a horse? Horses like stability. How does it make them feel to go to a home and not know if they'll be staying there 6 months or 6 years? Or worse yet to go from one home where they enjoy a good life with plenty of food and knowing that they are cared for to going to a home where their bellies are empty and they don't get any attention. It's no wonder that Rojero had such an empty expression when we picked her up. The superficial sores were only the outward scars. I wonder who it was who put so much time and training into her once upon a time. I wonder if they know the fate she suffered or that she's now up for adoption.

I have to keep reminding myself that I cannot keep them all. Having six horses has put a real financial strain on us this summer. She needs to go to a new home so I can continue to care for my other five horses. My other five horses who eat half of what she does in a given day. My other five who are less of a fall from the ground not if, but when I do fall off. Like Lisa Aldridge says, "I'm not the only person who can take care of my horses." I just wish I had more faith in humanity. I wish humanity gave me more reasons to have faith in it.

Operation Matt's Birthday

Overall, I would say that Operation Birthday was a success. It didn't go over quite like I had planned, but what does?

I found a great recipe for chicken cordon bleu using panko crumbs for the breading. It's hubby's favorite dish, so I decided that I just had to serve it for dinner. I decided to serve it with roasted red potatoes and asparagus. While I was at it, I picked up a chocolate cake from Sweet Bay, had them inscribe "Happy Birthday Matt" on it and got a bottle of Walnut Crest Chardonnay. The Chardonnay was the wine that we had at our wedding, but I'm sure Matt doesn't remember that. He's not much of a wine drinker, but he does like that one.

So yesterday morning I had a post-op follow up in Tampa, after which I went shopping for Matt's birthday. I knew that Matt needed some new shoes, so I went to Ross and found the perfect pair. They're Polo brand slip-ons with leather uppers and a rubber sole. Then there is a tongue that comes across the top with a magnet that sticks to the other side. They only had one pair and they just happened to be size 11. Ah, fate. I also got me a dress because I decided it would be nice to dress up for my husband. Then, since it was next door, I went into Bed, Bath & Beyond to pick up gifts for the rest of Matt's family who also have birthdays this week. I swear, I am not having children in September. There I found another addition to Matt's gift, a Betty Crocker Grilling cookbook. He does insist that he's the Grill Master, after all. So, got the gifts, picked up the food from Sweet Bay and headed home.

By this point it was a little after 2 pm and Matt was expected home at 7 pm. No problem. Of course, part of my plan included cleaning the house, feeding the animals, prepping and cooking the food, and getting me bathed and dressed up all before he got home. Keep in mind that I still have a bandage, albeit smaller, on my nose that cannot get wet when I wash my hair and face. Problem. Well, long story short, I managed to clean and reorganize the bathroom, vacuum the living room, couch and under the couch, clean off the kitchen counter tops and dining room table, feed all the animals, prep the food, and get a bath all before Matt got home. He also didn't get home until 7:30. So I stick the chicken and potatoes in the oven and start getting ready.

The chicken recipe said to cook at 350 for 20 minutes. Yeah right. The potatoes were still hard and the chicken breading was barely brown. Five minutes more, ten minutes more, it's not much better. Well, I need to get the bread in because it takes 15 minutes, but it needs to cook at 375. So, turn up the temp, rearrange some cookie sheets, and in it all goes at 375, but this time I got smart. I put my digital remote meat thermometer in the center chicken breast. Yeah, it was still at 120 degrees. Needs to be at 180. Well, half an hour later, the chicken was finally done. I'm changing my recipe card to read 375 for 60 minutes. Then we finally got to sit down to dinner and enjoy the perfectly cooked chicken cordon bleu, roasted red potatoes, asparagus and French bread with our Chardonnay. Actually, I think I was on my 3rd glass by that point and realizing that I hadn't eaten breakfast or lunch. Oops.

Then it was time for the cake. I, being the funny person that I am, decided to get trick candles for my husband's cake. Unfortunately for me, my husband can spot trick candles from a mile away, or at least from the dining room to the kitchen. He pointed this fact out to me, but proceeded to play along anyway. Then much to both of our surprise, the candles blew out. I always knew my husband was full of a lot of air, but come on! So he relights then off of the candles on the table and tries again. And they go out again. Leave them lit for longer, try again, and still they go out. This is not cool. We gave up because we realized we were spending way too much time trying to figure out the candles instead of eating the cake. Matt says he's going to write to the manufacturer.

In the end, Matt loved his gifts and his dinner. He really liked his drunk wife in her new dress that shows way too much cleavage. We restarted Glee on the DVR and watched that until long after Matt passed out on the couch. We now have enough chicken cordon bleu to make dinner for tonight and I think I can squeeze one more glass of wine out of that Chardonnay bottle.

Random Updates

It's one day until Matt's birthday, and once again I don't know what to get him. I have a couple ideas, but they're all out of my budget. I need to come up with something. I'm tired of shopping the day of his birthday. I was supposed to stop by Dick's Sporting Goods yesterday after my doctor's appointment, but I started talking on the phone and completely forgot. I have another appointment in town tomorrow so maybe I'll try again tomorrow. If Dick's doesn't have anything, TJ Maxx and Ross are also right there. And if all else fails, Toys R Us is in the same complex.

It's almost time to replant the vegetable garden. My spring garden was pretty much a bust, between getting the seeds in too late and the soil being too poor. Then the weeds took over. I'm going to get some weed killer and spray down the whole garden. Then I plan on tilling in a combination of manure and bagged fertilizer. I'll probably do the manure first, then do my soil testing to determine what type of bagged fertilizer I should add. In the mean time, I need to determine which seeds to plant for the fall and get those ordered. I also need to figure out a better type of fencing to keep the raccoons out. I actually think that orange barrier fencing used with electric fence posts will do the trick. We've been using a similar set-up in dog training and it seems to be really sturdy.

I had my second and hopefully last surgery on my nose last Thursday. My surgery in May was fairly non-invasive. The surgeon used scopes to go through my nostrils and straighten my septum and make my sinus cavity larger. There were no bandages and I was off work for less than a week. That surgery worked very well. I went from having headaches every day to about once a week. The problem was that I still felt congested every time I breathed through my nose. It turns out that I have small valves in my nose. Breathe Right strips helped tremendously, but they were causing sores on my nose and cheeks from wearing them every day. So I was referred to a second surgeon who decided to put cartilage grafts inside my nose to make the valves larger. That means cutting my nose across the bottom, harvesting cartilage from my septum, and wearing a splint over my nose to keep the grafts in place. I am 5 days post surgery and my nose is itching like crazy. The splint covers my nose from the tip to between my eyebrows. Tape holds the splint in place and stretches across both cheeks, up my forehead and down the sides of my top lip. I look like Hannibal Lecter. I cannot wash my face. I cannot take a shower. I have to take bathes and Matt has to wash my hair for me. My ears have dead skin pealing off of them in sheets. I can only imagine what my nose is doing under this bandage. I'm going to need a facial when this is all said and done. I really hope it's worth it.

Ah, country life

So Friday was a day of mysteries. First, Matt and I get home from work and are only greeted by one dog at the back door. Odd. Then we hear Greta whining from...the hall bathroom? See, the hall bathroom has been dubbed the "cat's bathroom." It contains their food, water, and litter box. It is also blocked off by a 3 ft tall child gate, the very purpose of which is to allow the cats the ability to escape Greta. And this is where we found Greta, behind the child gate. The gate has a door so that people can walk through, but that was latched. Matt's thinking that maybe he accidentally locked her in there that morning. I certainly hope that's the case and not that she jumped it sometime during the day. That means she's been in there for 12 hours and likely ate the cat's lunch when it dropped from the automatic feeder. I would say that's a highly likely scenario since she now runs for the hall bathroom every time she hears the feeder drop food.

Then, after much arm twisting, I convinced Matt to go running with me. No, that's not the surprise, lol. We get to the end of the driveway and do our stretches. Then I turn up my music and take off running. I get about a quarter of a mile down the road when it occurs to me that Matt should have passed me by now. I turn around to look, no Matt. Oh no, he's not getting out of running that easily. So I pause my workout (using the Nike+ app) and give him a call. Turns out he had to go back and put Rusty in one of the horse paddocks. Why? Because right after I took off running, Rusty came running from the neighbor's house to greet Matt. I told you our goats are like dogs with hooves. He must have walked through the fence because the electric was left off. No idea how long he's been out or how much he may have eaten in that time period. Keep in mind, this is the same neighbor who bought a shot gun to keep squirrels from eating his Bird of Paradise plants. Really hoping Rusty stuck to the weeds.

In other news, I've decided to give my Shure Pets business a kick in the pants. I may not go back to the Brooksville Farmer's Market for a while. I want to get my focus back on pet-centric events. I still want to start going to dog shows, but I'm going to have to expand my business if that is going to be a success. I'm going to be hosting my annual Mutts & Margaritas Party at my house on Sept. 19. Then on Sept. 26 I'm going to be at San Antonio's Paws in the Park. I'm also planning a Mystery Hostess Party for sometime in Nov., but I want to get a park pavilion locked down before I start advertising date and time. The home office is offering a lot of great incentives right now, so I'm hoping that will increase interest in party bookings. The parties really are the heart of the business and it hasn't been as much fun since bookings have been down. If you want more information or would like to be added to my mailing list, just let me know.

Well, that's really all for now. I'm waiting to go trail riding, but I have to hear back from a friend of mine first. It's really my fault for not having everything planned out yesterday. I got so wrapped up in the Shure Pets stuff that I spent all day yesterday inside. Then I ended up with a colossal migraine last night. After laying on the couch with ice packs on my head, I took a vicodin, went to bed, and hoped it would be gone by morning. For the most part, it is, but I need to drink some water.

Territorial Chickens

I have some of the strangest animals. First of all, I have to start by explaining the habits of my chickens. I have 5 roosters and 2 hens. When we are home to watch them, we will let them out of their coop and instantly run to the front horse paddock to pick through the manure. I can't complain. They do a great job spreading the manure for me and keeping the bug population down. My guess is that they are actually looking for left over grain that has passed through the manure. There is one big, black rooster who is certainly the head of the flock. He will watch the flock, crow when he can't see any of the chickens, and herd them to where he wants them to go. He will usually keep the flock in the front paddock or under the Gardenia hedge. Occationally they will also wonder over to the side paddock to clean up the manure there. When the sun goes down, he will make sure they all go back to the coop where they belong.

So Sunday night I decided to ride Lilly, who happens to live in that front paddock. We are riding around the pen when this black rooster comes over to check us out. He then proceeds to come inside the round pen and chase us around the circle. Matt and I were cracking up laughing. I can only guess that he considers Lilly to be part of his flock and he felt that she needed to go to the coop with the rest of the flock. He even went back to the coop and came running back to the pen when we continued riding. He then stood in the middle of the ring and started crowing at us. It had to be one of the funniest things I've seen these chickens do yet. He wasn't be agressive and he kept his distance from her hooves, but he was running at us like he does when he wants the rest of the chickens to move a certain direction. I just wish we could have gotten it on video. He did eventually go back to the coop and leave us alone, but you could tell that he was very upset that we were not with the rest of the flock. Silly birds.

Personal Perspectives

I am quickly becoming more and more disappointed with the attitudes fostered in the military today. It’s the mentality that if you aren’t skinny and can’t run well, then there must be something wrong with you as a person. I am beginning to come across this attitude more and more these days. Many of the people I meet are vein and superficial. Their attitude extends beyond the reach of other military members, but to the general public as well. Are they so conceited to overlook how privileged they are? Not everyone works for an employer who gives them a free gym membership and time off from work to workout. Not everyone lives 5 minutes from work and has the extra time in the day to dedicate to fitness. And, even more incredibly, not everyone chooses running as their hobby of choice. There are many, many ways to be fit and healthy without running a step. And what about those of us that are trying? Has it been so long since you've gotten into running that you forget that not everyone can run a 9 minute mile? And, please, spare me your pat on the back. I don't do any of this for your approval.

There are also many circumstances that may have lead to people not being as fit and skinny as you think they should be. To blame their condition solely on laziness is simply arrogance on your part. I’m not even talking about people who blame their thyroid or genetics as you are so often to dismiss as excuses. There are thousands of people in this country who suffer from back and joint problems which restrict their mobility. They fight every day to get back of piece of what you so arrogantly take for granted. There are also those who have gone through surgery after surgery and several periods of bed rest to fix a problem that doctors can’t even diagnose. Each time it gets more and more difficult to regain their strength, not to mention their motivation. Who are you to judge these people when you know nothing about them or their situation? And, no, that does not mean that you have a right to know their whole personal history. You deal with your life. Let them deal with theirs.

Likewise, I’ve seen this same attitude towards people in debt. Some of these people forget that from the time they came into the service most of their expenses were either covered or discounted. They didn’t have to worry about covering college expenses that were not covered by financial aid or even the added expense of living in the dorms. They never had to worry about being laid off or taking a pay cut. They’ve led a reasonably sheltered life. Granted, there are those military members who have debt and struggle like the rest of us, but there are a great many more who take for granted the good fortune that has been handed to them, albeit at a price. It simply adds insult to injury when one of these service members looks down their nose at someone who is working diligently, in a down economy, to get out of debt because, in their mind, the individual wasn’t “smart enough” to stay out of debt in the first place.

Do not presume to think that you are better than me because I do not choose your lifestyle.

And while we are on the subject of lifestyles, the way I choose to live my life is my choice. It may be different from yours, but that does not make it better or worse. So what if I do not want to move every three to four years? That is fine if it is what you are accustomed to in the active duty military. I chose not to go active duty for that very reason. I happen to like having the choice to move when and where I want. So what if I do not want to stay in a career field that almost always requires you to relocate every time you change jobs? There is more to life than money and certainly more ways to make money than this job.

I am a country girl. Period. I enjoy having my hands in the dirt. I enjoy living off the land. My hobbies of choice include horseback riding and gardening. It is what makes me happy and relieves my stress. I like the peace and quiet of the country. Granted, I may need to live further away from my job in order to afford what I want, but it is a sacrifice that I make willingly. Better than the constant worry over traffic, crime and stupidity. I want to have a family. I want my children to know where their food comes from and the joy of playing outdoors. I want my family to know the stability of living in one place and having friends and neighbors to rely upon. I am sorry if you think those are stupid and old-fashioned ideals, but then I think that shows a greater reflection upon your life than mine.