Stampmonkey Corner

Is it good... or is it bad?

2010-10-17T21:16:00.002-05:00

So I am sitting here minding my own business, surfing, playing borbs, and reading email. I check new mail and someone has sent me an email from youtube. I get one occasionally saying how cool the Baxman is. Of course, I already know he's cool, but confirmation from an outside source is always welcome :)

So anyways, this one is a bit different. It's from a guy in Mexico. He wants to know if the Baxman is for sale. Well, they say every horse is for sale. So, being the smartass that I am, I write him back and ask what he wants him for. He writes back and says to ride, have fun with, and breed to his mares. So I write him back and say that it would be really difficult to do that since he is a gelding. I told him how big he was, blah blah blah. So he writes back and asks how much. I smartassed back and said $200,000 cash US. :)

So he writes back (the other emails were in broken english - this time in spanish) and says basically that this is outrageous and he can't spend $200K on one horse. He does say however, that if it was $20K, he would buy him. Anyone who knows me very well knows that $20,000 is my buy it now price for the Baxman. So I thought about it, and wrote back and said I would take $25,000 cash US.

Some of my horsey friends think this is a scam. I don't know if it is or not. It does not have any of the usual things that scams have. Number one, I did not put him up for sale. Number two, he has not offered me some outrageous sum of money, with extra for his "shipper" or any of that nonsense. Third, I have checked out *his* youtube page, and he has some very nice horses, either Lusitanos or Andalusians. He apparently also breeds aztecas. So this guy has money, if he is for real.

I called the woman who bred Baxter. She knows that he is my heart horse. I told her about the exchange, and she said I should sell him. As much as I know I would bawl like a baby, I know she is right. $25,000.00. It's a stupid amount of money. Outside of our mortgage, we would be totally debt free with some left over. I have told other people in the past that they were stupid for turning down big sums of money for their horses. It really is a once in a lifetime offer (if it's legit) for someone like me. He could die tomorrow.

If it is legit, I am afraid Baxter will be moving to Mexico. I think I want to vomit.

Three years... and a month

2010-10-14T22:04:00.002-05:00

Time flies... and drags.

Three years, one month, and a few days ago, my mother died.

I have had a lot going on over the last three years. Way too much responsibility and stress. It seems like one thing gets fixed and two more rear up.

I suppose that this must be delayed grief. Sure, when she passed away I cried. I picked up the phone to call her a dozen times. I delayed and delayed going through her things, and fixing up the house so it could be sold. All the things people do when they don't want to believe their mother isn't coming back.

After all that was finished, and the estate was closed out, I thought I was done. Apparently, I am not. Lately I find myself longing to speak to her. I miss her. I want to hug her and hold her hand. Wash her hair and polish her fingernails.

I clearly see in my mind the last time I was with her. I am glad that I got to say goodbye, but I almost wish I had not gotten there when I did. My final memory of her is not a good one. She was lying in a hospital bed staring blindly at the ceiling, gasping for breath. I held her hand and told her that I loved her. I don't think she heard me. I don't know. Maybe she did. I was the last of her children to arrive at the hospital, and she died five minutes after I left her. I can still hear her breathing, her body desperately struggling to live. I have awful dreams about it. I have a hard time sleeping for days after I have that dream.

I find myself filled with remorse for not recognizing that in her later years, after most of her friends had died, that she was lonely. We are so busy all the time, and our work is exhausting, and it was easy for me to think that my brother and sister were taking care of her. They were taking care of her, but they were not enough. I realize now that she needed more. I should have done more. I suspect much of why I miss her so much now is guilt and regret. I usually don't engage in either of these. I think they are wasted emotions. I try to live in a way that doesn't leave room for that type of thing. Now suddenly in the last few weeks, they are blooming like an ugly flower. Ugh. I suppose this is one of the stages of grief delayed. Walled off since she died, and buried under responsibility.

I will work through this. I just miss her...still.

Fat Boy has a Sofa Back!

2010-10-05T22:53:00.004-05:00

I am just pretty excited and pleased with my boy!

When I first got there today to feed, he was playing hide and seek. They were both up by the building next door eating grass. When they saw me they started for the gate. Susie kept coming, but Baxman went around to the other side of the hill and proceeded to "hide". This monster 16.2 hand 1500 pound horse actually stopped by a tree, and then sidled around until his head was hidden. Then he peeked out to see if I was looking at him. I about fell down laughing.

After I convinced him that he really wasn't hidden, I went up to the feeders and put out the slop. They ate, and I went to get them some hay. After that, I got my camera and took some more pictures. Susie is looking very good if I do say so myself. She is 25, and has some issues with her teeth, and is picky eater, so keeping her in good weight is a chore. I am pleased with her. The vet said she is perfect. He did not say the same thing about Fat Boy. *sigh* Here is Susie. She is almost black right now. She has dapples that don't show up very well here, but they're there. She is my sweetheart!

So after they ate, Fatboy, er, Baxter came over and wanted a scrub. He would turn is big fat self inside out to get a good scratch, and he drools whenever the rake makes an appearance. No rake today, but I thought I'd scratch him a bit anyway. While I was scrubbing on his belly, I thought it would be fun to see what he did if I got up on the old water tank and stood over him. Once he figured out that he would not get scratched unless he was standing next to it, he stood there and would not move. I got up on it and scratched him. He closed his eyes and heaved what can only be a sigh of ecstasy. So I reached over his back to scratch his opposite shoulder. He flicked an ear and "listened". I kept scratching and he went back to sleep. So, I put both hands on his back and put a lot of my weight on them. He listened again, and thought about leaving, but the lure of sharp fingernails digging into his fat pads won over and he went back to sleep. I scratched for a few more minutes. Then, I leaned over his back and scratched his girth area. Dear Lord. He kept sleeping. Then I put one leg up on his back. Nothing. Not even a flick. I have always had issues with slab sided horses. They don't take up enough of my leg (I have long legs for my size). I do not need to worry about that with this boy. Looking down on his back from above reminds me of a Lazy Boy lounge chair. If I could get him to stand still, I could sleep up there.

I believe that as long as he is being scratched, you could probably put him in a pot of boiling oil and he would sleep through it. Maybe... just *maybe* starting him will be a non issue. Joleen has always thought it would be, but she has not seen some of his shenanigans, so I had my doubts. After today, I am beginning to believe her. Man I hope so. I would be very happy if that were the case. I really need some good things to happen....

Goodbye Headaches, Heartburn, and the Desire to Choke the Living Crap out of Someone

2010-08-23T14:58:00.003-05:00

Finally, the saga ends.

Let me back up and begin at the beginning. I was looking for a place to keep my horses. They are very important to me, and a safe place was number one on my list of things to look for. A friend of mine steered me to a place relatively near my home. I went with her to look the place over and meet the manager. I have to say that in looking for an affordable place to keep horses close to the city, the place was the best one I had seen so far. That's not to say it was perfect, but after looking at it, I decided that with a small investment I could make it safe enough. The manager seemed to be a good person, with a genuine interest in horses, and the people who owned them. So based on what I saw and heard, I gave him a check to hold the private pasture I'd been shown until my horses could be trailered in.

The next thing was to get some sort of shelter built for them. The pasture was just a 3 acre plot with no shed or barn. I found someone selling those portable car ports, and had seen someone convert one to a run in shed for a good price, so I ordered one. After many delays, we finally got it up and ready.

Then I set about making the fencing safe for my old lady and the deaf two year old that was her partner in crime. I bought and installed t-post toppers and electric wire. Just about that time is when things started being -not- what I had been promised. The first thing to go haywire was access to electricity for a fence charger. Suddenly, I was not allowed to use the electric outlet near my pasture because it would be "too much of a draw on it". Hmmmm. OK. So, I go out and buy a solar charger that costs three times what the regular plug in variety costs. I guess that's ok, because it is for the safety of the horses, right?.

Then there was the promise of a break on board in return for the run in shed we were building staying on the property whenever we left. That would have been great, but there was never a discount on the bill. Hmmmm, guess he changed his mind. No problem, I will just take it with me when I leave.

So, then the horses came, and for a while all was well. I had told the manager that Baxter was deaf, and if he needed to be in my pasture for any reason, he needed to call me and I would come out and put the horses up so he could do whatever was needed. Apparently the manager is selectively deaf, because a short time later I drove up and found him brushhogging my pasture with my horses loose, and Baxter was following the tractor with his nose virtually on top of the mower deck. OMG!!! I ran out and caught the horses up, and locked them in the small feed area. Then I told the manager that I had asked him not to do that and he said he couldn't find my number... Uh, yeah. Sure you couldn't. Because of this, I went and spent more money, this time on locks and chains so that he would *have* to call me. I also wrote all my contact info, including work, home and cell numbers down for him again.

A couple of months later, I drove up to my pasture to find that my locks had been cut off and the pasture had been mowed down to dirt. Ok, now I am pissed off. Not a little, but a lot. I called and got voice mail and left a scathing message. No return call. So my brilliant solution was to find a lock and chain that the jerk couldn't cut off. I also told him that I did not want him to mow my pasture any more, that I would pay someone else to do it. That ended that particular little problem.

On to the next bitch. Arrived to feed one weekend morning. Susie was in the pasture, but Baxter was not! Lovely. I found him in the stallion lane between my pasture and the one that the resident stallion lives in. The stallion had grabbed Baxter by the throat, and nearly killed him. After I caught Baxter and put him up, I started looking for the escape route. That was when I found that either the manager had removed the back fenceline from my pasture, or there had never been one to begin with. The very back of my pasture was thick woods, and the horses never went into them. I had (stupidly I guess) there surely there must be a fenceline back there, but no there wasn't. So I strung a line of step in posts with hot tape for a temporary fence until I could get some t-posts. By this time I had found that asking the manager to do anything always got the same response. "Oh yes, I will take care of that". Unfortunately he never got around to it, and this was crucial. I bought t-posts and a pounder thingy. I put half of them in and strung the hot tape on them. I left the rest of them by my feed room to do later that week. When I got ready to finish, I found that the t-posts were gone!!! I thought, great the manager finished it for me. Uh no. He had taken the t-posts that I bought and put them in the stallion's fence line!!!! ARGGGGGGG!!! Bought more t-posts and finished my fence. I am starting to really loathe this guy by now...

The next issue was when the manager decided that my pasture needed "cleaning up". So he goes in with his tractor and cuts down the brushy area at the front. This was covering up a spring that stayed wet most of the year. So the manager (from here forward referred to as "the jerk") gets his box blade and proceeds to try to "stop" the spring from being a spring. All he succeeded in was getting the damn thing stuck in my pasture. So, I put up some more step in posts to keep Baxter from killing himself on the stinking thing. It was stuck in my pasture for 2 weeks. Finally it dried out enough for the jerk to get it out. Then he comes in with a chain saw and starts cutting stuff down. That would have been fine with me, except he also took down the temp fence and left stubs sticking out all over the place. The VERY FIRST thing Baxter did was go down in that freaking mess and puncture his foot, breaking his coffin bone. Furious does not begin to describe my feelings at this point. Between vet bills, bandage materials, and fencing supplies it cost me over $1500, and I am still not sure Baxter will ever be sound for riding. The urge to beat the snot out of the jerk was almost overwhelming.

The scariest thing that happened in the three years I had my horses there was when some idiot let Baxter out of the pasture and shut the gate behind him. It happened at night, and of course I didn't find him missing till the next day. I was in a panic. My big 1400 pound deaf horse was missing. I was positive someone stole him. After much frantic searching, I finally found him at the far end of the property. Thank God he was fine. This apparently happened because the jerk had pissed off some former boarders who supposedly would sneak on the property at night and either take down fences, or let horses out. I got more chains and locks, and locked both sides of every gate accessing my pasture. I also put up a step in fence inside the regular fence. Funnily enough, Baxter did not "get out" again.

The final two things that pushed me over the edge were the stallion getting loose and grabbing Baxter again, and the jerk driving right by a black horse that was loose on the property at 5:30am and going out the open gate without stopping or closing the gate. If he will drive by that horse in the dark and leave without even trying to catch it or shut the gate, then he would drive by mine too. The single most irresponsible thing I have ever seen done around horses. I closed the gate when I left. I didn't try to put the horse away, because I had no idea which pasture it belonged in. Supposedly, someone was coming in again and unplugging the stallions electric fence. I have no idea if that is true, but I do know that the stallion attacked Baxter again, and that was it!

All of these things really happened, but were just the worst of it. There were constant annoyances like loose horses mugging you at feeding time. Loose horses getting *in* my pasture and kicking my horses. Starving horses with no food or water if I didn't feed them and fill their tanks. Horses getting loose and getting hit by cars, or impaling themselves on t-posts or injured in fences, and on and on ....

I found a new pasture. I had driven by it every day for the last 2+ years on the way to feed the horses, but it was occupied. Then I noticed it was empty, and I stopped to ask about it. It was the same price as the bad place, and only 3 miles from our office and 7 miles from home! I was lucky to find it. It is safe, close, good grass with a barn, feed room, and arena, *and* there are no stallions to break in or out and try to kill my baby boy!

Thank goodness I found it. It's a huge relief to know my horses are safe.

I have a secret.

2010-07-28T09:07:00.001-05:00

I can't tell yet, but it's a very very good thing. I am so excited. It will be such a great thing when it's done. Hoo-ray! I can't wait.................

My little pony...not.

2010-07-28T08:50:00.003-05:00

I do not own a pony, yet when I drove up to my "private" pasture yesterday, lo and behold. It's a miracle. Either Susie, or Baxter has given birth to a fully grown pony! Wow! There she stood by my water tank. Neither of my horses were in sight, just this little appy pony.

Ok, here comes trouble on 8 legs. Baxter and Susie had been in the barn and Susie heard my truck, so here they come. Baxter sees the pony and trots on... he wants to play with her. Susie on the other hand has a strong desire to corner and kill the poor little thing. This pony actually sort of lives outside my pasture. She is badly foundered, and majorly crippled. She can barely walk on a good day, and now Susie is running at her, trying to pen her in the corner so she can kick the snot out of the poor girl. The pony, whose name is actually Angelica, was frantically looking for a way out. She tried the hot tape and got shocked so she just stood there and shook. I yelled at Susie and she walked off to mean mug from a distance and pout. Baxter left with her.

I tried to coax the pony to come out the gate. No way Jose'. She was terrified that Susie would get her. No way was she moving out of that corner. I had to go shut off the hot tape and find a lead rope. Once I caught her, she was happy to follow me out of the gate into the area where my feed room is. I had to climb back through the fence to get my keys and unlock the outer gate to let her out. She was happy to exit the premises.

I have no idea how she got in my pasture. The fence (such as it is) was all in place, and the hot tape was on. I am just thankful that Susie didn't maim her, and Baxter didn't play her to death. She is a sad little thing. Whoever owns her doesn't seem to care that she runs loose. Of course she is so crippled that running is a figure of speech, and she stays close to my pasture because I throw her a handful of alfalfa when I feed. I wish I could afford to have her feet done, but I can't save them all.... Poor girl.

What would you do?

2010-07-28T07:58:00.003-05:00

Ok, here's the situation...

It's 5:30am. It's freaking dark in the country at 5:30am. The main gate is open, so you drive up to the pasture where your horses are boarded. You see the little crippled pony mare who lives outside your pasture. You also see the stallion that lives in the next pasture, when he isn't tearing down the fence to get out and breed random mares, and try to kill your gelding. Then you see something big. And black. And it's coming at your truck! Holy Mother!! Oh, it is a loose horse. You don't recognize it at all. Well.... isn't that special? (church lady) The biggest problem is that the horse is *very* friendly. So friendly in fact that you can't get out of the truck because it is sticking it's vaguely moose-like face in your window. Thank goodness the foundered pony mare thinks you are her property because she actually drives the moose...er horse away.

So you get out, unlock your gate, and hurry through with your feed buckets. Check your horses over for boo-boos and feed them. Go back out the gate and carefully lock it, making sure your fence charger is turned on to the "fry the sucker" position and run to your truck to put the feed buckets back before any of the loose equines can mug you for grain. Use your spotlight to see where the meandering intruder is so you don't get mowed down, and watch him wander around looking lost.

In the mean time, a truck has driven past the pasture and left through the open gate... someone going to work I suppose. Next you see the barn manager coming up from the direction of the house. About 100 yards away he slows down and finally stops because he sees that you are shining your bazillion candle power spot light on something... Oh he says to himself, it's a horse. So he sits there for a few seconds watching the horse. Then what do you suppose he does? What would you do?

Would you:

A: Sit and stare at the horse hoping it's a dream and you will wake up.

B: Get out and see if the horse belongs here and return it to it's pasture, and if it doesn't live here, put it someplace safe so it doesn't get hit by a car or worse.

C: Stop and ask your boarder to catch and put up loose horse because you are late for work.

D: Shrug and drive off, leaving the gate open because you just don't give a shit.

Now hazard a guess at what was actually done. If you selected option D, you were correct. Drive off and leave a loose black horse wandering around in the dark, because you really don't give a shit if it gets out and causes an accident, possibly killing whoever hit it. After all, there is someone there who pays for the privelege of boarding at your top notch facility... they can catch the horse, or close the gate right? It's not your problem, is it?

I really want to beat someone....

2010-07-07T19:31:00.002-05:00

I got to the barn today, and something was not right. Susie was *cutting* Baxter. Every time he tried to go to the east side of the pasture, she cut him off and sent him back west. She was as good as any fancy high dollar cutting horse. I couldn't believe she could move like that at 25. I saw a big bunch of flies on Bax, so I figured it was just the flies and got the hay out.

As I was feeding, Susie kept acting all weird. Running at Baxter and ignoring her grub. Not normal. She was not running him off, but herding him. I saw some bot eggs on her, and decided that must be the problem. She hates them and is always freaky when there are any around. I finally had to lock Baxter up for him to get enough peace to eat! She finally ate half her grub after I locked him up.

Then I took the hay out and put it in the feeders. Then I got the fly spray and sprayed Baxter who was grateful. Susie on the other hand was weird. She kept running over to the place where Baxter was locked up. As I was spraying her I looked east, and saw the stallion who lives in the next pasture. I looked again, and he was not in his pasture, but in the stallion lane.

Now I understood why Susie was hysterical. She was trying to protect Baxter! Then I looked closer at Baxter. That damn stallion had gotten him by the throat *again*. He also had several bite marks that I had though Susie did, but now I know the stallion did it.

I called the barn manager (BM - get it??) and of course he wouldn't answer the phone. Left a message. Waited for about 30 minutes and then decided that Susie was way too upset for me to leave the stallion there in hopes that the BM would put him away. I caught him and put him back in his pasture, and Susie relaxed a little. She was still circling Baxter, and any time he even looked that way, she would get between him and block his view of the stallion. She was on high alert, and any noise from that direction had her right at Baxter's head, pushing him away. I checked inside my fence line and there were lots of skid marks where Susie had run between them.

Wrote a note and went to the house. The teenage kid that lives there with his mother said he would give the BM the note. I asked him to have the BM call me. I am not holding my breath. I don't look good in blue....

There is going to be hell to pay if Susie is not right tomorrow. This guy is the most irresponsible person that ever neglected a horse. He keeps these stallions in fencing that won't keep anything in, with mares all over the place. One colt died trying to breed mares over the fence - impaled on a t-post! I have already spent a fortune on fence, tape, chargers, and t-posts trying to keep everyone else's horses *out* of my pasture. To say that I am unhappy is the understatement of the year!

We will see what his solution is, cause if he can't fix the problem I will, and I will take it off my board bill.

Just got a call from the woman who helps out at the barn. Seems that the power is off at the pole, so the stallion who is a fence tester knows that he can just walk through the fence. They moved him up to the house where at least there is a more solid fence to contain him. Supposedly they have the power company coming out tomorrow to fix the problem. In the mean time, the hot tape that blocks off the stallion lane is coming down tomorrow. Usually when he gets out he immediately runs up to the house, but today he was blocked in by hot tape that is run off of my side. Next time he gets out, he can run loose and not be tempted to get into my pasture.

It is not the stallion's fault. He is just doing what stallions do. He lives alone. Nobody pays much attention to him, so he wants to go where he knows his mares are. I feel sorry for him, but I am not going to allow my horses to be hurt.

I have got to find a way to get all the obstacles to moving taken care of. This situation just gets worse and worse.

We are having a wobbler!

2010-06-26T22:39:00.004-05:00

Our new baby Smudge is having a wobbler. If you have ever listened to Ozzy Osborne talk about his daughter Kelly, you know what a wobbler is. If not, I will explain. It's a fit.

One minute she is sitting there minding her own business, the next she is zooming back and forth through the living room. While she is running, she is snorting. She sounds like a little pig. Her "other" name is Oinky Doink. She is pretty darned fast for such a little thing. Once during a wobbler, she ran right into my shin, so hard it forced a squeek out of her! Little turd.

The wobbler is over, and now she is harrassing Monk. Poor Monk. He is so good with her. The worst thing he does is is snap at her. Ever seen a picture of a wolf snarling? That's pretty much Monk when he is tired of her. He looks vicious, but he never lays a tooth on her. Even when she is pinching his feet or hanging off his ears. He should be put up for sainthood! She is relentless, but he always wins in the end! It's MY toy and you can't have it you little turd!

There's a Light....

2010-03-31T20:34:00.010-05:00

Over at the Frankenstein place...and her name is Smudge!

My first little light went out. Our beautiful Blondie, the sweetest dog we ever owned was gone. We really *really* missed having our little bulldog around. They are great dogs, full of life and personality. With Blondie gone, there was an enormous hole in our lives. Our Monkenstein was depressed and sad because he could not find his Grumpy Nanny. Everyone was moping around.

My DH told me that I should find a puppy, and it would be my anniversary present. He is such a great hubby. He actually had to give the ok to the vet to euthanize Blondie. I was pretty much hysterical, and we were actually pouring concrete when the vet called with the bad news. He took the phone and talked to them. He is a better man than I deserve sometimes.

So, I searched...and searched. Frenchie puppies are fairly rare, and awfully expensive when you do find one. I knew what I wanted in a pup. Not creme or fawn. This puppy was not going to be a replacement for Blondie, nor should she be compared to her. I did want a female, only because The Monkenmonster is a boy. It was very possible that he would really resent another male coming into what had become *his* home. So that left me with a black, piebald, or brindle female pup. That narrowed down the search, but also the pool of pups available. We also had a price limit, which further narrowed the pool of possible pupsters. After several days of fruitless searching - apparently they sell as soon as they are born, I saw an ad for a rescue puppy.

I can't tell you how many times I have filled out what is euphemistically referred to as an "adoption application" for a dog. I have, over the years, tried to adopt quite a few dogs, and nothing. Not even the courtesy of a reply to the application. I didn't have any expectation that this time would be different, but I thought what the hell, and filled it out. Then I forgot about it. The next day, we were up finishing up the lake house we were working on and my phone rang. I answered it and was shocked when the woman told me she was with the rescue. What? Then she told me that she had checked my references! Hello? Are you sure you have the right person?? Then she said... you are approved... **THUD** I wake up and the DH is patting my hand and calling my name! (not really, but it sounds good eh?) Huh? Me? Us? You are going to let us adopt a puppy? Who paid you to be so mean?

She said we had excellent references, and not only that, but we could pick from five puppies! WOOHOO!! We made arrangements to meet that evening. We arrived right on time, and the woman was very nice. She showed us all the puppies. Talk about treacle. Dear Lord, not one, but five! The only thing cuter than a baby frenchie is two...five is almost unberable! Thank doG we had already decided we wanted a female. There were four brindles and one piebald brindle. Only two of them were females. Thank goodness! Smudge was the biggest girl. The other girl was adorable, but she was so tiny. One thing we loved about Blondie was her size. There are two different sizes of frenchie - the smaller ones are around 20 pounds tops, and the larger ones closer to 30. We decided that we wanted the larger one. We signed all the papers, promised to have her spayed, plunked down a sizeable "rescue fee", and were happily on our way home with our new little light.

The rescue lady had given them all names for the vet check, and had named our little girl Chanda. Ugh! We promptly renamed her Smudge, because the DH said she looked like she had fallen down a chimney. Smudge is quite charming. If she had little fingers, everyone she meets would be wrapped around one of them. She knows just when to lay back her big ears and wiggle her little bottom. She is cuteness in a brindle jacket.

When we first brought her home, Monkleman thought she looked absolutely delicious! At a mere six pounds, she was just the right size for a delicious midnight snack, he thought. He was quite territorial, snarling and lunging at her any time he saw her! Oh NO! I was afraid that he might never come around, but one day I took her out in the back yard and put her down, staying close enough to snatch her up (or snatch him bald) should he decide to attack her. He came over and smelled her, and it seemed as if he decided to give up and accept her. Since that night, they have been pretty much glued together. We still watch them, because she has oodles and gobs of extra energy, and while he has become what I would call a saint, even a Monk has his limits. He is patience personified when she wants to play. He looks so resigned sometimes. She pulls his hair, and his ears, and bites his feet, and steals prized pig on a rope toy.

She is a micro terrorist. I have never seen anything move so fast, or for so long. In typical puppy fashion, she plays until she can't stand up, then falls down and sleeps wherever she is. She is pretty grumpy when you make her wake up to go outside and potty before bed, but she almost has the potty outside thing down! She will also mostly, come when you call her name. She already sits on command. She is a good puppy, even though she has developed an unnatural liking for feet, especially when they are wearing socks. Damn, her teeth are sharp!

One light burns out, and a new light burns brightly. Long Live the Smudge!!

RIP Blondie - Queen of the World March 2010

2010-03-22T07:10:00.007-05:00

A bright light went out for us on Friday, March 19th. Our precious baby girl bulldog was humanely euthanized due to some very bad circumstances.

No one could ever have asked for a more loyal, funny, sweet companion. She was always good natured and happy.

All my dogs have touched my life in some way that made them special, but this little dog was my baby from the day she came running up to us in the park, skinny, covered with ticks, and an eye so crusty we were afraid we would have to have it removed. She never complained about any of the uncomfortable things she had to endure. She always came running with her ears flattened, a smile on her big wide face.

What happened to her was a sin. I have always believed that we owe our animal friends a dignified end. It is up to us to make that hard decision to end their suffering. It is the hardest thing we have to do for them, but we owe it to them. They cannot tell us with words when they are too tired, in too much pain, and need to rest. It is selfish to make them suffer simply because we lack the courage to make the tough decision. I have always erred on the side of dignity for my friends. I would rather let them go a day too soon than a day too late.

This time, I depended on a veterinarian who was ego driven, and apparently believed that she could cure the world. My poor little girl. She had to suffer because the vet I trusted either didn't care, or was too busy, or just made a poor decision. In the end, she was released from suffering, but not soon enough. It hurts my heart to know her end was not dignified, but painful.

We gave her the best life we could. She was a good dog. She deserved better from the professionals whose job it is to heal and ease suffering.

Rest in Peace my pretty girl. I shall miss you greatly.

You know...

2010-03-03T11:12:00.002-06:00

I have been thinking (you smell smoke, right?), and I just wanted to add (re: the post about the hypocrite and the amber) that perhaps if they knew as much as they think they do, they would be grateful for all the years I spent defending them against all the folks who told me that said person was an arrogant, pompous ass. They might also like to know all the effort we went to regarding getting them recognized for all their service to the hobby.There are volumes more that they don't know, but it would be a supreme waste of a sunny day to post it all today.

I suppose I should have listened to all those folks who told me time and again that I was wasting my time, and would eventually get a knife in the back. I do sometimes exhibit a woeful lack of judgement when choosing friends. Ah well, live and learn. There. I feel better.

Water...water everywhere

2010-03-03T10:12:00.004-06:00

I will be the first to admit that I am nosey. When we are working on a project, I look around. I want to see what the house looks like inside. Sometimes we are lucky and the project manager will actually give us a tour. Those are the best. Other times, we only get to look in the window, or sneak a peek when other trades are working.

We are currently working on a lake house for a guy who is very particular. He wants things done the way he wants them done, and is kind of hard to deal with unless you just stand toe to toe with him and bash away. Once you have done that, he is your friend and things go pretty smoothly. If you don't join in the bash fest, you are lost, and nothing is easy. All this is leading up to what being nosy led me to find...

We drove to the job to cut the concrete we had poured the day before. I do not like to be around when he saws a slab because it is noisy and dusty and icky. I had seen a bald eagle the day before and went to the back of the house, number one to escape the ick, and number two to see if the eagle was there again. No dice. So...here is where the nosy part comes in. I wanted to check and see if anything had been done with the pool. Nope, still the same. Then I noticed that the strand board they had placed to protect the pool deck was wet *under* the covered patio. Hmmm I thought. I looked along the board, and the water led right to the back door. So, I went to the door and looked in. Holy Mother! It was a miracle! It was raining *inside* this almost finished million + dollar home!!! Water, water EVERYWHERE! I thought, shit, that really sucks. Then I thought, thank goodness this wasn't our work, 'cause someone was in really BIG trouble.

I got on the phone and called the builder and delivered the bad news. He sounded so resigned. I felt sorry for him. He asked if we could turn off the water, and I told him that we had our personal truck, so we didn't have any tools. He said he would call security and thanked me for letting him know. A few minutes later, he called me back and asked if any of the doors were unlocked. Now, I will look through a window, or step in if someone else is working, but I am not *that* nosy. I don't go inside someone elses' house! I told him I would check and found one door out of about 11 that was unlocked. He walked me though turning off the water from inside the house. We checked, and water was still pouring out of the ceiling. Then he asked if we would use the shop vac's there to suck up what water we could. We did what we could, but it was still raining, and we had to drive back to Tulsa - over an hour away. We ended up putting the shop vac's under the worst leaks and leaving.

There is no telling how much damage was done. The visible stuff was bad enough. The walls had big oozing tracts of water behind the knock down treatment, all the woodwork kept oozing as we were vacuuming, water in the electrical boxes in the floors, and the ceiling...well.... scary that was. We heard later that over 400 gallons of water had been pumped out of a humidifier system that was damaged by some heat tapes. Fortunately, it was limited to about 1/3 of the house from what we could tell. The owners were planning on moving furniture in this week. Not happening now unfortunately. They must be *very* upset. I know I would be, and have actually experienced the same thing with our office. We were almost ready to move in and I drove up one morning to find water pouring out from under the walls! Ugh. Fortunately our office is a tilt up concrete building, so no real harm done other than not being able to move in as fast.

The thing I find most interesting is that nobody can understand why we won't give them a bill for turning off the water and vacuuming up what we could. I happen to believe in Karma. I know how I would feel if it were my house. We did it because it was the right thing to do, not in hopes of a reward. There is absolutely no way that I could have just walked away after seeing what was happening. That would be so wrong. It is actually pure luck that I went along for the ride that day, because if I hadn't, that water would most likely have run all weekend. When Bill goes to a job to cut a slab, he doesn't mess around at all. He cuts it and leaves. He would not have gone searching for the eagle, or looking in the pool, nor would he have noticed the wet strand board, because, he just isn't nosy like me :)

Sadly, it won't end there. Now there will be legal stuff, and firings and lawsuits. I can only imagine how disappointed the owners are. It is a beautiful house with, I am sure, years of thoughtful planning and happy anticipation. I can feel their pain. Fortunately (I'd think) it happened before they moved all their belongings in, and the damage can be repaired. I am exceedingly glad that I am just a stupid concrete finisher, and not involved in the finer points of interiors! I do not envy anyone involved in what went wrong. I am sure that the owner is not going to go easy on any of them.

Oh really...Really??

2010-02-14T23:32:00.004-06:00

I have gotten a few "letters" (real letters, raggedy notes, emails, bricks with stuff painted on them) from people who for one reason or another, had a problem with me. Some of them were well deserved, and some were not. I am sure everyone has gotten at least one. So, you can color me unsurprised - it's a shade of jaded - when I got one recently. Now usually, being the hotheaded person that I am, I will fire right back, but this one, for some reason just made me feel a great deal of pity, and some surprised amusement.

Let me give you some background. My DH and I are fixing up our house so that we can move out of what has really become a war zone. It was a nice neighborhood when we moved in 23+ years ago, but has become a really bad place (TM), with over 12 murders and a few other assorted deaths in just the last 2 years, all within a mile of our home. So during the process of throwing away a huge accumulation of stuff, we found things we no longer needed, from a hobby we used to be involved in. I posted about the things on a newsgroup for the hobby, and put up the previous 2 pages of pictures of some of the amber and opals I was selling...

I got several emails asking about stuff, and a few people bought some things. Great! Then I got an email from someone who I had thought was a friend. The first email was nice enough, asking about some things we had for sale, and saying how nice it would be to get together and remember the good old times, and how they wished we would reconsider not coming back to the hobby, blah blah blah. It was an email that appeared to be from a concerned friend who would like to see us participate again! Unfortunately, when we quit the hobby, it was not under fun circumstances, and I have since decided that it was a total waste of time after looking back while totally uninvolved in it. I was pretty bitter about how my DH was treated, and had no desire to talk about something that could still make me pretty angry. So, I wrote back, explaining plainly why I didn't want to talk about it to them, or anyone else. I didn't hear back, for about a week, so I figured they had changed their mind about buying anything... Ok. No problem.

Then, I got pretty damn sick. I had an abscessed tooth, and was in total misery. I was in bed for several days. During that time, they wrote back and said ok we won't talk, but I would like to come see the stuff. Being as how I was sick, well, I hadn't even sat at the computer for a while. When I did get back to it, I read the email and was trying to figure out a time that I could meet them. Our work schedule changes every day, so it's kind of hard to make a date and time that is firm, and I hate to inconvenience people. Everyone is busy. I had finally figured out when would be good, and intended to email back when I got home, only to find... da da da... The email.

Now mind you, I am a pretty blunt person. I say what I mean. Sometimes it is not too pretty, but I am not about to sugar coat things for anyone. I am also not going to be offensive, unless you really just ask for it. I was very blunt in the email I sent, explaining why I didn't want to talk about "the good times". I laid it all out in black and white, so there was no wiggle room. I guess that my blunt email must have offended this person. A LOT. My goodness. Here was a steaming pile of vitriol that might have made anyone who is not a fairy princess concrete finisher cry. It contained this person's perspective of the stuff I had so bluntly written about in my email. The more I read, the more I snorted. I completely understand that perspective is everything, and yours is going to differ from mine, perhaps greatly. That's fine. I get it. I don't expect everyone to see things my way. I do however believe that in any given situation, the only people who know what went on are the people who were there. In the situations that were being discussed, this person was mostly not there, yet just knew that they knew the facts. The longer the email went on, the more amusing their "facts" were. The single most amusing thing was they thought I had committed some heinous act against their spouse. Of course, the act itself was not named, so I have really no clue what it might have been. I do remember very vividly things being the other way around, with said spouse being the culprit in a situation. I won't go into any detail, other than to say that I was there, and they were not. Two people know what happened :)

At any rate, this Paragon of Virtue proceeded to pretty much do their best to be spiteful, mean, and just downright nasty. I was sort of surprised at just how vicious the email was. I am not big into personal attacks. It's really just a waste of time. Telling someone that they are pretty much white trash just isn't my style, and I didn't think it was theirs either, but apparently I was wrong. According to them, I am scum. The main thing that amused me so much is that over all the years we participated in the hobby, this person was just as sweet as pie to me. People who know me well know that I am not nice to people that I don't like. I am not mean, but I do not have time to speak to people who I do not like. I do not hang out with them. I will be polite, but I don't enter into conversations, or eat dinner with them, or any of the other things that friends do. They had treated me the way I treat my friends. So I was asking myself, just how long had this person I thought was my friend hated my guts? How long had this stew of meanness been brewing?

How can someone be such a hypocrite? Why would they even write the first email, asking to get together and remember all the good old times? It was obvious to me that I had things for sale that they wanted. Fine, their money is as green as anyone's. I don't care if someone likes me or not. If they want something I have for sale, they can buy it. It's all good and the world will still revolve in the morning. There is no need to try to be nice, it's business. In fact I sold some stuff to a person who has never liked me and also never kept that fact a secret. Nobody died.... The funniest thing in the whole email was being told that they didn't want my amber. I could keep it and be buried in it for all they cared. I really hate to burst their little bubble of venom, but I would be happy to be buried in it. I am not desperate to sell any of it, I'd just rather not move it if I can get rid of it. I guess that was supposed to upset me, perhaps make me cry. The only thing it did do was make me question my judgment when selecting friends.

I really just pity them. To think that they have been carrying this hatred around for all these years. It hasn't hurt me one iota, but they have been seething inside a for a long time apparently. How sad. I hope that at least they feel better for finally getting it all out. If their intent was to hurt me, it was a big fat FAIL. I stopped caring what people think about me a long time ago, so while I am grateful to finally know the person's true feelings about me, I am certainly not hurt by it.

Life goes on... I found another huge stash of amber to sell. Maybe I should email back and see if they want pics, you think?

Andamooka, Yowah and Koroit opals

2010-01-23T18:40:00.004-06:00

Ok, the pics suck, but here they are. If you want more pics, I will do my best, but obviously opal pics are not my speciality LOL!

Baltic Amber for sale

2010-01-22T22:31:00.009-06:00

This is the baltic amber that I have for sale. I will be happy to answer any questions, or take different pictures if you need them. You can contact me at sigen3@aol.com

Finally

2009-07-30T08:29:00.002-05:00

Yesterday was the closing on my mother's house. After two plus months of stress and aggravation it is finally done. Thanks to Hope, the closer, I did not have to attend the closing and was able to sign all the papers ahead of time. I am so glad this is finally done. I hope the young couple that bought the house will love it as much as my mother did. Good luck to them.

Hee hee! hahahahaha

2009-07-20T22:04:00.001-05:00

I sooo needed a good laugh, and I just found
this floating around. I almost wet myself.
It's almost as funny as the blue eyed horse
registry, which is a for real deal!

Enjoy!

http://wtfregistry.vpweb.com/default.html

Probate... it ain't for sissies

2009-07-20T21:00:00.002-05:00

So this has been going on for nearly two years. I don't know how many papers have been filed, or billing hours racked up, but I can tell you that the stress is terrible. I have alternately been depressed, and hopeful. It is no fun. None at all. Think long and hard when you are making out your will. Make sure that all your shit is in a pile, or at least in a place where the poor slob you have designated as your Personal Representative can find it, and get it to the lawyers.

I think most people have absolutely no idea what goes on after they die. They believe, thanks to commercials that tell them so, that if they have a will, everything will be hunkey dorey and it will all be good. Well, I am here to tell you that is a big fat lie. Even if everything is spelled out, you still have to go to court. You have to ask permission to fart. You have to make sure that anyone and everyone who might possibly have a claim, all the way back to cave-man days knows that your loved one died. You have to send out notices... notice I typed notice(s). Plural. And for every notice you send out - heirs, debts, other claims, newspapers, and on and on, you have to wait. You have to wait to give any of the bloodsuckers who wouldn't otherwise come forward to get off their dead asses and come to the hearing that involves them. If for any reason, the notices are not right (up to and including simple typo's), then you must get a continuance, and set another court date. Do not ask me how I know this, just know that I do know. Once you finally get all the papers right, then you have your day in court. This takes all of 5 minutes, and requires that you sign a paper.

All of the above is just so that you can get to be appointed the executor (Personal Representative) of the estate. Now comes the fun stuff. Going through all of the stuff. You know, the stuff the person left behind. Their life. If you are like me, this is the worst thing you have ever done. You have to decide to throw stuff out. You have to decide what to sell, and what to keep, and you have to play referee to everyone who wants stuff. When all the stuff is gone, then you start on the house. For me, this was the most difficult thing. The house was where my mother lived. Selling it is severing the last physical tie to my mother. Knowing that someone else will be living there, and perhaps changing everything about it is difficult at best.

I thought nothing would be harder than making the decision to call a realtor and put the house on the market. Boy, was I wrong. I thought that you just called a realtor, and sold the stupid house. Ahahahaha!! Notice the slightly hysterical edge to the laughter? Well, that is because what should be a very simple thing (to my way of thinking) has turned out to be a huge assed mess. You have to get *permission* from the court to sell the house. Then you have to show them the offer, and tell them that it is the best offer you are likely to get. If they think so, they approve the sale. But wait... you have to notify the heirs (that you have already gone to court over like 12 times) that you are selling it. Then wait. Then inform them that the court says you can (then wait some more). Then you get approval to approve the sale.

We have had a few setbacks. The judge is new to this type of law, and is a by the letter (forget the book) person. If something is not right, instead of changing it there, we have to have a do-over. It is insane I tell you. If we can get the latest paper resolved, then we are ready to close on the house. After that, we will have to go to court over another part of the estate, and cannot distribute the funds until that is settled. I am going to assume it will be as big a mess as the last part was, so I don't see winding the whole thing up for several more months.

So, when you do the right thing, and make a will to let the world know where everything goes, just know that you have done the easy part. Try to keep everything simple and clear. Make sure that you have done all the things you need to do, painful as it is for you to face your mortality. You will save your executor a lot of heartbreak. And for those of you who know you will be an executor, find yourself an excellent attorney. Ask questions. Surf the net, and find out what is going to happen. I was so naive, and it has made me this _close to being insane, and it ain't over yet...

As the windmill turns...

2009-07-20T19:05:00.003-05:00

The continuing saga of boarding at the ever exciting and changeable Agony Acres!

So, I drive up to the barn. Stop to open the gate, because there is always at least one and usually 6-9 horses running loose, waiting to mug me for my grain...drive through, and close the stinking gate. Have I mentioned what a pain in the ass it is to have to fight off any number of hungry horses in order to get to my paddock??

Anyway, I get back in my truck and drive past the falling down house full of used books (whose pages are scattered all over the place, and end up in my water tanks), and what do I see? I see three, that is right, not two, as in Baxman and Miss Susie, but three horses in my *private* paddock. I pay extra so that my horses do not have to have roomies. So I am a bit shocked and pissed to say the least. The horse that is in my paddock is a filly that I had the pleasure of introducing to the longe whip, since she was going to run me over to get at the grain in the bed of my truck, and then had the nerve to back up and try to kick me. Uh...no....

Lo and behold, the barn manager (hereafter referred to as BM) was there waiting for me. He could tell by not only the look on my face, but also the tone of my voice that I was pissed. I explained to him as nicely as I could that I did not appreciate paying for a private paddock, and finding someone else's' horse in my pasture. I explained to him that I had gone to a fair expense to make it so my horses were confined to their pasture, and safe, and that I did not expect to have to fence OUT everyone else's' horses.

After we reached an understanding about how I felt, we proceeded to remove the invader... We got her in my small feed area, thinking she couldn't run far.... She ran right through two strands of hot tape without hesitation. He did not believe me when I warned him that she would kick. He believed me after she got cornered and began backing up to deliver the double barrel. Fool. After much dithering about, and him applying the end of a lead rope to her backside, we finally caught her and she was evicted. I told him to tell her owners that I was VERY unhappy, and if she got back in my paddock, and injured either me or my horses, I would sue them. I hope he understood that I was serious, because I won't hesitate.

He proceeded to give me some sob story about she had been locked in the barn, and he just didn't know who had let her out, and how she was in heat and causing him troubles with his stallion. The same stallion that regularly breaks out and impregnates horses all over the farm, hence my two fence chargers. Blah Blah Blah... I don't want to hear it. My horses have never (knock wood) gotten out, or caused any problem at all. I can't believe that I am going to have to spend the money to put hot tape on the frigging outside of my paddock, not to keep my horses in, but to keep all these other ill bred pukes out! What is up with that??? Someone needs to enforce the damn rules that say if your horse is getting out, you will purchase and install hot tape and a fence charger. I think they don't want to spend more on the fence than they spent on the damn horse.

I am really sick of catching horses out in the road, and having to be mean to horses that are hungry, and running loose because their sorry excuses for owners don't care enough to get a fricking fence charger (I have 2) and make sure their horses are safe. It is just ridiculous. The BM is no help either. He leaves all his horses out loose every single day too. He has a two month old (accidental) baby. He just doesn't get that babies have no sense, and will dart through an open gate if they feel like it. I don't get it... don't people care if their horses get out in the road and get hit, or cause someone to die??? I know of at least two horses that have been killed in the road from this place. Sheesh! I have personally caught 5 different horses (some more than once) and put them back where they belong.

I do not work for the BM. I do not work off my board. I should not have to be filling water tanks, feeding starving horses, calling people to tell them their horses are hurt or sick, or have knocked down their hot fence, pushed a poorly chained gate open, or are running loose in the middle of the road. I already have a job. I pay my board, and care for my horses.... The BM should do his job, and enforce the rules.

ARGG!!! I cannot wait to move!

Whiney, aren't I?

There's a pineapple waiting in Hell for my realtor

2009-04-20T15:57:00.003-05:00

Here's a little update on my mother's house. The deal fell through. Apparently the woman had a car accident and her car was totalled. She has to use the closing money to get another car, so the deal is off. The really funny part is that my realtor has known this for a week, and has had the paperwork to cancel the deal since then. Has he called me? No! Emailed? No...sent a passenger pigeon? Hell no! Kim, my younger sister, offered to deal with the real estate stuff for the estate, so she has been the one he has been in (non) communication with. We hadn't heard anything on the inspection that was supposed to have happened last Tuesday, so she called him Sunday. He told her some big whopper about still trying to make the deal happen.... Today, she decided to call the other woman's agent and got the real story. Amazing. sigh....

There is a daily pineapple waiting for him in hell. (If you haven't seen "Little Nicky", you won't understand that reference :-O)

Off to get proposals from new realtors, because ours is FIRED! Needless to say, I am not a happy camper...no sir, not one bit.

What sucks?

2009-04-04T23:18:00.002-05:00

Well, let me tell you. It sucks that finally after more than a year, we got an offer on my mom's house. We were not happy with it, but we accepted it anyway. Today, Bill and I were over there doing a final walk around/pick stuff up, and a car pulled up in the drive. It was the buyer, come to show her entire fricking family the house. Ok... So she asks me a few questions, and I started to tell her all about mom's plants and gardens. She informed me that number one, she is allergic to roses, so those all have to go. Ok, I can understand that. Next, she tells me that the whole yard is just way too busy for her, so about a month after the closing, she is going to have a big old barbeque, and invite all her friends to a "digging party". They will get to dig up all of my mother's gardens, and either take what they want, or throw it out.

Logically, I get that it will be her house, and she could burn the fucking thing down if she wanted to, but to say that I am upset is *the* understatement of the year. This really hurts my soul. All the years mom spent making her home a refuge, and this "person" is just going to willy-nilly dig it up and destroy it. It seriously made me want to vomit. Why would someone buy a house that has huge gardens, and then tear them out? Whatever... as long as the check is good, I guess that's just life.

So now you know. This sucks. I just thought I was depressed before.

Anxiety

2009-03-18T21:55:00.002-05:00

Talk about having an anxiety attack! My older sister called and asked me if I'd heard from my brother today. I told her no. It is not unusual that I do not hear from him. However, he is almost without fail, online every night. I had noticed he wasn't online tonight, but I didn't think too much of it. I tried to call him, but got no answer. He will almost always answer me, or call right back. So... I am getting a little anxious. My brother had a minor heart attack about a year ago, so it is not beyond possible that he could have another one. I decided to call his friend Annette and see if she'd heard from him. Well, she hadn't. Great, now I can't breathe. My DH said he would drive me over there, so I got my keys to my brother's place and off we went. I hate things like this because I have a very active imagination..... sheesh.

So we get there, and notice the dogs are oustide and not a light on anywhere. Not a good sign. I unlocked the back door. I was very careful to call out to him because he has a gun, and he won't hesitate to shoot someone breaking in to his house. As I went in, I was flipping on lights and calling his name. No answer. Damn it...now I am getting really scared. I got to his bedroom and saw what appeared to be someone on the bed. I called his name again and flipped on the light, and lo and behold! He's alive, and freaked out by the lights and people standing in his door! Apparently he changed shifts at work and didn't tell me. He usually tells me. Well don't I feel foolish.... Actually, I am glad he is alive, and that he did not shoot my ass. I scared the poor guy to death, but it sure wasn't any fun for me either. It sucks getting older, and worrying about something serious happening to someone you used to assume was out having fun with friends. Well, not this time. Yay!!

Job update

2009-03-12T14:20:00.004-05:00

We have all but one small pour done on the big job. We are in negotiations about that last pour since it was mislabeled on the plans, and we did not bid it. Until we get confirmation that we will be paid for it, we are considering our part done. At least the placing and stamping part.

We spent the better part of last week pressure washing, scoring joints and sealing on two big sections. There is over 14,000 square feet of imprint on this job. It had to be scored on 4 foot centers each way. Baby, that's a lot of scoring, I don't care who you are. DH has a nifty saw called a slab crab that is self propelled. It rolls merrily along scoring the concrete without much work on the human's part. You just have to make sure it stays on the line and watch it go. It's sorta like a roomba for sawing! ;)

Once the slab crab has crawled over the slab, you have to go behind and score the low places it missed. This has to be done by hand with a diamond blade on a grinder. Let me tell you right now that this is NO FUN. After spending entire days squeezing the trigger of the pressure washer, my hands did NOT want to hold the grinder. It is really hard because it has such high RPM's that it tries to twist itself out of your grip. If you have carpal tunnel syndrome, this can be sheer agony. It is like someone is driving hot icepicks into your wrist and hand. OUCH! Once all the lines are scored, then they have to be painted so that they look like real mortar joints. Fortunately my little monkeys can do that reasonably well, so I didn't have to have a huge knee from crawling around on the concrete.

Anyway, enough whining. Here are some pictures of the job. The part that looks black has had sealer applied. This is going to be a very cool thing when it's finished. It will look great until the first time a car drives over the white sidewalk and leaves tread marks. The architect did not specify sealer, so after a few days/weeks the white concrete will be dirty gray. Oh well.... :)

Here is what the contrast will look like with the white concrete sidewalks They are not colored, but actually made with white concrete - white sand, cement, and rocks. It costs a fortune. The white diamond shape at the bottom of the photo will be filled in with polished granite. This is one of several things that I don't believe were well thought out. Polished granite is slicker than greased owl guts and some idiot *will* slip and fall on it when it's wet. Oh well, whatcha gonna do? At least it will look stunning :)

Here are some of the lines that were scored and then painted. I am sure there are miles of them. I will let someone else figure out just how many, as mathematics are not my strong suit :)This is the bollard brigade. I know each one of them intimately, and hate them all. What a fricking pain in the ass they were. I shall not miss them. I will not be happy when we start getting calls to repair the concrete when people hit them. It will not be cheap!Here is my DH sealing the concrete. This is really hard on his back. Walking backwards, bent over at the waist is bad juju for someone who has sciatica. Everything has to have two coats. Bummer man!

This has got to be THE most brilliant thing I have ever seen! NOT!!! There is a scant inch and a half cover over this pipe. In some spots, it is much less. I can guarantee that it will crack the concrete. I would be willing to bet $5000 that it does. I do not gamble lightly. I never make a bet I can't win. I wonder which trade will end up being hijacked over this. I promise you that it won't be us. We had no choice. We were not responsible for grade or base prep, so it's all on someone else. Isn't that just unbelievable? I can't even imagine anyone thinking it was ok. Oh well :-)

Hand update

2009-03-12T14:18:00.002-05:00

It hurts worse. I am not a happy girl.

Politically incorrect...

2009-03-12T14:02:00.003-05:00

These are pictures of the inside of one of the porta johns currently at the jobsite we are working on. I find it interesting that different jobs tend to have much different graffiti in the porta johns. I highly suspect that it has a lot to do with which trades are working on that job. On some sites, there is a lot of hand drawn porn. Some of it is remarkably accurate *snort*. You'd think an artist would have better places to leave his art.... Some tend to take issue with the superintendant on the job, and tell everyone that his parents were never married, etc. This job seems to have a few resident philosophers. It's kind of interesting actually. There is none of the usual stuff.

WARNING: If you find racial slurs offensive, stop here. Do not look at the pictures. Also note, I did not write any of the graffiti, nor do I endorse any of it. I merely took some pictures. You may need to click on the pictures to be able to read the writing. Enjoy...or not...

Owwww!!

2009-03-11T09:10:00.003-05:00

I think as I am getting older, I am becoming way more accident prone. I am constantly smashing, dislocating, hyperextending, twisting or otherwise maiming myself. Monday was a not so good day for me. I came home from feeding (after having a pretty normal "good" day - I should have known....) and of course my darling doggers were waiting to mob me and get their evening skritches. Monkey was on one side, and Blondie on the other. They are usually pretty careful around me because I tend to squall bloody murder if they hurt my knee. On Monday, they were just sooo excited. Monk performed the Atomic But Bump (TM) on Blondie and she moved, and her foot was right where I was going to step. So, instead of stepping on her foot, I tried to step around her. Well, that was a miserable failure, and I managed to fall. Not a big deal, I fall all the time. Unfortunately, I stupidly tried to catch myself on my hand. It made a nice icky noise and I felt something give. It hurt like hell too. DH came to pick me up (isn't he sweet?) cause I was sitting there bawling because it hurt. He got me up and I went in and put an ice pack on it. Just what I needed to go along with my arthritis and carpal tunnel. YAY! NOT!

I figured it wasn't that big a deal. Everything hurts when you do it, and it would be better by the morning. Well, it wasn't. DH has broken both of his thumbs, and he looked at mine and said I should go have it looked at. Well hell :( Ok. So I did. They xrayed it and poked and pulled and flipped my fingers and pulled my arm and flexed my elbow. There was no visible fracture on the xray. The Doc said I had to come back, because he is worried that the swelling might be hiding a fracture in my thumb or wrist. Great huh?

They gave me this torture device they called a splint. I am not the best patient in the world. I don't like being restricted much, and this splint is driving me insane. I can't move my thumb. It is sticking out in the way of doing anything constructive, which is pissing me off. The worst part is I have to wear it for at least a week until they redo the xrays. HARUMPH. We poured 7 times in 5 days last week, and my hands are both very unhappy. They are swollen and they hurt, and now this. The Doc said I had a "remarkable amount" of arthritis for someone my age. He asked if I had had surgery on my hands. ??? Uh no. I told him that I had worked on a horse farm, and now finished concrete, and I'd had a lot of injuries. He just shook his head. Wonder what that meant? Oh well.

I have been too busy to update much here. I do have some pictures of the big job. We have actually finished parts of it - done, finito, sealed and we don't care who walks on it now! YAY! When I remember where I stashed my camera, I will try to get caught up. I have no idea where it actually is. I must think about it.....

Great... just great.

2009-02-18T11:08:00.002-06:00

I demand to know whose fricking brilliant idea the switch to digital TV was??? I demand to know! I want to be able to personally smack them upside their head with something smelly and disgusting. I am sooo not a happy camper.

Let me explain why I am so unhappy. The local CBS affiliate has always broadcasted over the radio as well as the TV. For the last oh, say...20 years, I have listened to this broadcast at work. I started when I worked at the barn, and just out of habit, continued right up till 1:00pm yesterday. At that time, the local station went ahead and changed over to digital. They apparently have not made any provisions to continue the radio broadcasts, despite the fact that a lot of people listen to them during emergencies when the power goes off. This is so ironic, because they stated the reason for not waiting until June, which is the government deadline, was because that is severe weather time here, and they did not want to risk being off the air during a weather emergency. Bah!

What am I gonna do now?? NO weather for when we are out on a job. No news! No SOAPS!!! I am sitting here listening to "Fire and Rain" on the radio. Every 10 seconds, I reach over and start to change it to the TV broadcast, only to remember it is GONE! In place of my regularly scheduled The Young and the Chestless, is some idiot telling people how to hook up their black box, which is then repeated in spanish...over and over. This is serious. How can I have a decent Stampmonkey Nap (tm) without being able to drift off to someone being murdered, having an affair with their ex's dead brother, or having a miracle baby pop out of a 93 year old woman?? I am asking you HOW? I am jonesing for a fix... My head aches. I think the shakes are starting. What-to-do-what-to-d0???

I have written an email to the person in charge of such things at the TV station. Perhaps they will realize the real importance of this. Seriously, I do wonder if they considered just how many people rely on the radio during bad weather, which indeed is coming fast.

I wonder if any of the teeny portable TV's will get digital signals????

Progress

2009-02-11T11:54:00.005-06:00

We are still working on the big performing arts center. It is a nice job for us. There is abound fifteen thousand square feet of imprinted concrete. It has some difficulties, but every job does, and these are minimal really. The biggest headache are the traffic control bollards that run through the middle of the traffic area. Whatever genius put them there did not think about the inevitable problems that will occur when someone hits one with their car. It will cause considerable damage to our stuff, but I guess that is kind of good because then we will get to go and fix it. Yay! Heh.

The latest fun has come because they are pushing us. We are sort of like bulldogs in that if you push us, we push right back. We talked to the super on the job and asked him when they expect to turn the building over. He told us 6 to 8 weeks. Well that is great! We have 3 pours to make before we reach the front door. Apparently, the people working on the interior are nowhere near finished. This means that we cannot pave in front of the door until they get all of their big machines out of the building, because the front door is the only one big enough to get them through. So they are pushing us to do about 4 days work so that they can then tell us we can't work. WTF?

The super came to us last Thursday, and asked us if we were pouring on Saturday. I said absolutely not, since it was my birthday, and I do NOT work on my birthday. He declined my offer to show him my driver's license, and said he agreed that nobody should have to work on their birthday. Of course, it is his job to um, encourage the various trades to get their part done. I have no heartburn with this. Someone has to do it, and as supers go, Carl is a good one. As long as you tell him the truth, show up, and actually do some work, he loves you. He calls me Miss Mary Sunshine. (Boy do I have him fooled or what?) Carl loves us, but he still pushes us to do more, every day.

Here is the drill on a typical commercial construction job. We have been waiting almost a year to start this job. They told us they would be ready for us - in three months, then next month, then next week ad nauseum. We have been on this job exclusively since we started. We have not pulled off, and have turned down work to concentrate on this one job. So, in 4 more working days, we will be sitting on our hands because everyone else is behind, but they are *still* pushing. On most projects, the actual concrete (not asphalt parking etc) is one of the last things done on the job. That is great for us, as the other trades are all gone, and they don't slob up our stuff. Now if this was the case on this job, it would make sense for them to push us, but the interior is nowhere near completion. As it stands, it makes no sense to me, but that's just how it works. I think Carl is pushing because it is what he does. He cannot help himself...sort of like me and my shoes!

Here are a few updated pics. It doesn't look like much of anything yet, because it hasn't been cleaned and sealed. It will look a lot different when it is finished. See the diamond shape in this sidewalk? Those are spread out in the white sidewalks and are going to be filled in with black granite tiles. How cool will that look??

See this guy on the ladder? He is an electrician. These guys are moles I swear. They dug trenches along all of our pours, just the right distance to be in the way when we are working. They dug them 6 or 7 weeks ago and just left them. Nice way to break an ankle. Bad bad moley electricians!

Here is someone's idea of brilliance...NOT! This is going to crack the concrete as sure as Prisoner Y has blue eyes. Apparently when they were designing this thing, nobody thought about where the water would run off, and made the grade too high. So we get to pour to fill in that sharp point, and it is too shallow to add any reinforcement, so it will fail. Of course, they will try to blame us, but I have before pictures, so try somebody else...like whoever planned the grade. That dog don't hunt :-)

Here is the pour we made under duress yesterday. Dumbest thing known to an imprinter is pouring when there is a 70% chance of rain. Rain BAD! Big-assed hail is even worse. They were forecasting spring-like thunderstorms for last night through this morning. Any fool who has lived in Oklahoma for any time at all knows that this means hail, horizontal rain, and possibly tornadoes. Fortunately our Karma account was paid up, so we think the pour was not too damaged. DH is going to look at it and pump out the swimming pool next door so we can pour that tomorrow. There he is on the left. Ain't he something?? I sure like him :) Here is the pool he is going to try to dry out by tomorrow morning...good luck man!

I am STILL not Imelda Marcos

2009-02-11T10:53:00.003-06:00

Imelda Marcos had questionable taste in shoes.

My shoes however are high class....well ok, they are hi-TOPS. I do have one pair that are not. They are bright yellow, neon even! Anyways, on to my latest acquisition. They are blue. Electric, cobalt, fingerpaint blue. You know the color... They are even better than the purple ones. These will definitely not go into the lineup for work. I am setting them aside for special occasions! Am I a dork or what? I may be the only woman I know who will actually wear tennis shoes to a wedding. Well, if I wear a skirt, I have boots, but other than that it's tennis shoes or riding shoes. No heels for me! Hee!

Here they are in all their blueness. I adore them. They are actually a deeper shade, with a hint of purple, but my camera said no, so here is the pic!Seriously, if you don't love them, you should see someone...there's something wrong with you. Seriously :)

Satan invented fiber one bars

2009-02-03T20:10:00.003-06:00

I am telling you, it's the truth. Fiber one bars are evil. You are supposed to eat them so that your gut stays happy. Well let me tell you, my gut had a party. It partied all day and all night. Of course, the party was thrown without my permission. If I'd have known what was going to happen, I never would have eaten the damn thing. I farted more in one day than in the last month. When you are out working on a job, the bathroom (portajohn) is often a long way away. Not to mention when it is freezing out, you wear your warm stuff, which is hard to get on and off. Both of those things make you not want to take a 1/4 mile walk just to let off some steam. It is frowned upon to rip off a big fart in a crowd of people, even on a construction site. So you have to go sit in your truck, or walk far enough away that nobody wants to put you under the concrete. Then there is the concern that when it is way below freezing, and you fart, does it make a big old foggy cloud so that everyone on the job *knows* you just ripped one off?? I mean really, how embarrassing is that? For all of these reasons, I will not eat another fiber one bar. They are yummy, but the benefit is outweighed by the unending amounts of gas they cause.

You can try it yourself if you like, but don't say I didn't warn you....

Seeing Double

2009-01-30T13:41:00.014-06:00

It's the double-mint twins!! One is Baxter, one is not Baxer. Can you tell which is which? Dilligent students of Prisoner Y will be able to spot him...Oh I made a funny. Spot...get it? Ok it wasn't that funny. :-P Anyway, the body double is Baby Huey's full sister, Blue. I wish I could get my hands on her... Four of these pictures are Blue, the rest are The BaxMan! Have fun :)

The Broken Arrow Performing Arts Center

2009-01-29T11:02:00.004-06:00

This is where we are working rignt now. We have a little over 14,000 square feet of stampwork to do here. Fortunately for Bill and I, the company we subbed the job from is actually pouring it out for us. Since Bill and I are the only ones on our crew who can actually finish concrete, this is a big help for us as straight edging is a butt-ton of work.

The architect had a great concept for this job. The paving is actually dark gray, almost black, and white. The white sidewalks run through our black imprint and it will look really neat...for about 3 days. For some silly reason, he did not specify a sealer for the white concrete, which means that every time a car drives over it there will be tire marks. Soon, it will be dull gray anywhere there is auto traffic. The white concrete is really white. It has white cement, sand and aggregate. It supposedly also has oyster shells included in the mix. It is incredibly expensive at almost $200 a yard. It sure is pretty coming out of a mixer though.

Here are some pictures!

This is the white sidewalk. Not a great picture, I will do better later. We are making some fairly large pours on this project. The tools we are using allow us to do much larger areas than the tools with joints. It's pretty nice to get large chunks out of the way, instead of doing a bazillion small pours. YAY!!!

This job is full of difficulties. The bollard run though the middle of our pours. That means that we have to work around them and let me tell you, troweling at a distance, around something is a challenge. Bill actually made a stamp that fits right around the bollards, so stamping is easy. He's the bomb! The bollards are actually the traffic control devices for this big drive. Every other one has a light in it. Bill and I both anticipate them being knocked over pretty quickly. It will make a mess of our work. Oh well :)

This is the pour we filled in last Friday. We had to go back and cover it with curing blankets since it was dropping into the 20's that night. The wind was gusting to over 40mph. I know this because I was standing on one of the curing blankets and it flat picked us both up and surfed us over the slab and I know that it takes at least a 40 mph wind to blow my fat ass around. I was not amused. I finally had to get down on my hands and knees to keep from being blown away. Did I mention that the wind chill was in the teens?? Well it was. I fricking hate the wind. You can see the white sidewalk a bit better here.

This is the texture the architect chose. It is a ripple slate. It's kind of a subtle texture that is very pedestrian/handicap friendly. Here, it is still covered with release, so you can't actually see the color which is a sort of silvery charcoal gray if that makes sense.

I am hoping that I will be able to get inside and take some pictures of this after we are finished. I think it is going to be very attractive once it's done. Now it looks like a puzzle that isn't finished.

Monkey wrangler!

2009-01-25T18:38:00.002-06:00

The past two weeks have been very busy for us. We *finally* got to start the big job that we have been waiting on over a year. We made some pretty big pours, and man did it beat me down. My right knee was as big as a good sized grapefruit. These tools require you to walk a lot. In order to get good texture you have to take little tiny steps all over the things. They are about 4' x 4', so you can imagine stepping back and forth to cover that area probably a thousand times in a pour. My knee does not like this. Taking little tiny steps is hard on my knee and hips both. It is really just exhausting. It is also dirty and there is no time to eat once you start, so you get very tired. I am thinking that I'm too old for this shit.

Enter "the boys". We have two kids working for us that are around 18. They do not know how to finish concrete. In fact, when they try, they mess up more than they fix which means that Bill or I have to constantly go behind them and fix what they screw up. I finally decided that instead of watching me work, they should get their bony asses out there and do something... So I had them get on the tools, and let them wear themselves out doing what I usually do. Between the two of them, they managed to do a fairly good job, only making a couple of mistakes.

So now, in addition to being the StampMonkey, I am also a Wrangler for StampMonkeysInTraining. Thank doG. I am going to work their little asses off while I stand around and watch. I am incredibly stupid for not making them do this before. All this time they have been picking their noses while someone old enough to be their mother works till she drops...now it's their turn. Bwaaaahahahahaha! Pictures to follow :)

Barrel Killer

2009-01-12T13:33:00.008-06:00

Truck trees

2009-01-12T11:03:00.003-06:00

I found one!

2009-01-12T10:58:00.004-06:00

Ever since Prisoner Y has been having his dental issues, I have been looking all over the place for the caps I know he must be shedding. It's a pretty big paddock, so I have not had any luck until last Friday. I finally found the thing that has been making him chew like he was eating lemons.

Here it is, front and back. This one has been worn quite a bit. Sometimes you can find one that has no wear on it, and they are pretty cool. I know I am weird, but I think they're neat.

Ahhhhhhhhhhh!

2009-01-12T10:53:00.004-06:00

Ok, you know that I have been thinking about cutting my hair, yes? Well I was just screwing around with one of those programs where you put your picture up and then the program will put different hair on the picture so you can see what you will look like. Hahahaha! I demand to know right this second who swapped my picture for Marty Feldman??? You want to talk about some scary shit, well that was pretty scary. Imagine Jessica Simpson hair on Marty Feldman, and you will have a pretty good idea of what I saw. Hell! Delete Delete DELETE!!! How discouraging :( Horrifying actually. I really should make *some* attempt to look like a human being on even numbered days...

I am going to go back to playing with my pictures now.

Prisoner X abandons Prisoner Y

2009-01-12T08:48:00.003-06:00

It is always dark when I feed the prisoners in the morning. I like it. No noise, no people, just the prisoners and me. Lots of nickering and quiet talk. This morning I drove up, and no Prisoners. Oh Dear! So I wait a few seconds. Still no Prisoners. This is odd. They are *always* waiting for me in the morning. I went and dished up the slop, and by the time I had watered it down, Prisoner X had made her appearance. Still no Prisoner Y! Oh NO!

Back to the truck for a flashlight. Grabbed the slop buckets, and fed Prisoner X on the way to search for the boy. Saw something dark looking on the far side of the round bale. There he is! Oh dear! He is stretched flat out. Eyes open... evidently not breathing. Not moving!! ARGGG!!! My BOY! I waved the flashlight over his eyes several times... nothing. I finally stepped up near his head to look closer and... **blink**! Yayassssss! Thank you Jeeeesus! **blink** Utter confusion is written all over his face. He finally rolled up to his chest and blinked a bunch more. I put my hand under his nose, and he sniffed, and seemed to finally wake up.

I showed him the slop bucket, and took off back to the feeder. I think he figured out that dining Roman style was out of the question, and finally got his lazy ass up to followed me. He was still asleep, as he ambled slowly instead of bolting and bucking. Sheesh! I can't believe that Prisoner X abandoned her charge for food. She has never left him while he is sleeping. She must have tried to wake him up, as I have never seen him sleep alone, nor with his eyes open. Shame on her! I was ready to have a conniption. Thank goodness all the prisoners are accounted for, and seem in good health.

Ahhh the joys of owning a deaf horse! Thank goodness he wasn't all the way at the back of the pasture :)

Big Boys Don't Wear Lipstick in PUBLIC!!

2009-01-09T12:15:00.005-06:00

I wrote about Baxter not being just right at dinner a couple of nights ago. I watched him the next day, and he was still just not right, so I called and made an appointment for Doc to come see what was going on.

We looked in his mouth as well as we could before sedating him, and saw that he had finally (at almost 4) shed some caps, but Bax wasn't real fond of having someone's arm shoved in his mouth, so we decided to sedate him and get a good look.

Baxter is pretty special. It takes about twice as long for any sedative to act on him, and about an hour before it is safe to leave him alone in the pasture. So Doc got his float and other stuff out while Baxman was getting good and loopy. After a bit, he re-examined his mouth and found not only a partial cap, but some developing hooks on his upper molars on one side. His wolf teeth also decided to erupt - finally. I think poor Baxter is a case of arrested development for sure. Everything is late with him - losing caps, wolf teeth, stopping growing...grrrr. Ahem... anyway... So the floating proceeded, and went pretty well. Baxter did NOT like it. Of course, he was all fuzzled up with good drugs, so the worst he could do is roll an eye at me. Poor BOY! He got the wolf teeth pulled. Tiny little things. The vet was surprised at how tiny they were. Baxter is so special!

Why is it that you can only get a good head shot when there is something hideous on your horses' head huh? Isn't his face pretty? Well, once you get past the bloody lip it is :)

Doc also treated the little cut by his eye. He did it about 4 days ago, and by the time I found it, it was too late to do anything about it, so I just wiped it off and left it. It wasn't a big deal, but since we had him snockered up, it just made sense to clean it up again. After all the drama, he spent the next hour tied to the fence sleeping. He is such a good boy. Poor little Susie was upset. She stood and watched the whole time, and after he was tied up, she started nickering and talking to Baxter. Yeah sure, she hates his guts. Cute.

The only bad thing about it is that I forgot to check and see if he had a bean while his weiner was hanging out. Dang. Oh well, there will be other times.

Prisoner Y Has a Problem

2009-01-08T09:18:00.003-06:00

When I was out feeding yesterday, I noticed that Prisoner Y was cranking his head around. He had been fine while scarfing down his slop, but when he got to the alfalfa, he paused and wallered his jaw around. Sheesh. I sat and watched him for about half an hour, and he stopped wallering and ate hay, so I figured whatever it was had come unstuck and all was right with the world.

Fast forward to this morning. Of course, it is still dark when I feed, so I had to sit and wait a bit for enough light to see him eat. Sure enough, he is twisting his head around and wallering again. He is not real enthusiastic about eating, and he let me scratch his jaws, which he usually won't allow while he is eating. He was in fact, all lovey-dovey instead of giving me "the look", and wishing I would just leave. So I have made an appointment with the vet for tomorrow morning. I am sure he either has a cap or two coming off, or needs floating. He was fine the last time we checked, but it has been a few months. My one real concern is that I just got a bunch of new hay, and it is possible there there are some foxtails in it. I didn't see any, but tht doesn't mean anything. If there are 10 foxtails in 15 bales of hay, I would trust the Prisoner to search them out and try to eat them. It's just how he operates.

At any rate, it is a long way from his heart, and he is still eating and drinking, so I will wait for the vet to come see what's up. Gawd i sure don't like this kind of thing. Whatever it is, I can't do anything about it without some help and some sedation, so I am not even going to try as it would just piss him off, and I couldn't do anything anyway. Frustrating.

Harumph!

2009-01-03T20:03:00.003-06:00

Ok people tell me honestly, does Prisoner Y look like a draft horse to you??? I will be the first to admit that he isn't exactly a delicate little hothouse orchid, but ...a *drafter*? No, seriously? He has pretty good bone, but nothing I wouldn't expect in a horse his size. Maybe I am just the most barn blind person on earth, but I don't see a trace of coarseness in him. Granted, his neck could be prettier, but still. To me, he doesn't look anything like a draft. Perhaps the color reminds people of a Clydesdale eh?

Today the hay guy came and brought my round bales. When he pulled up he asked who the pretty black horse belonged to. I told him he was mine. The very next question out of his mouth was - "Is he paint or mixed...like part draft?". Poor Baby Huey! Even though he is deaf as a post, I could tell that he was wounded by the question. He actually stopped scarfing down his alfalfa for a chew or two. HUH??? MOM! He's callin' me names! Of course there is no way for the hay guy to know my personal philosophy on riding an animal that has been bred for centuries to pull a wagon. Personally, I don't see the point. I have no heartburn with other people who ride them, but they are bred to pull, not carry, and I think it isn't good for them, so I don't ride one. I think they are way cool horses, and if I ever have a beer wagon, i will get some drafts to pull it :)

I think that the hay guy figured out that I was not amused when I told him that Baxter was insulted. He backpedaled then, saying he had meant warmblood (which in our barn were always referred to as Dumbbloods for good reason). I guess that most people who ride foxtrotters and arabians aren't used to bigger horses, so it's reasonable that they are all drafts, right?

I told him that actually, Bax is mostly QH, with some TB thrown in. Then I told him that he is three and one half. He said, he will get bigger huh? I said unfortunately, that is so. He changed the subject :) Anyway, lets compare....

I am sorry, but I honestly don't see it. Maybe I am barn blind...

Hooray!

2008-12-31T11:05:00.003-06:00

I am just all excited! I finally got an email from my tattoo artist. I had just about given up and resigned myself to going all over town to look at people's portfolios when I got an email on my facebook account. I had searched on myspace and facebook, found her on both and left emails there. It's been a while back. She emailed and told me that she had been in a rather bad car wreck, and had been in the hospital for ten days! Sheesh, it must have been bad. Usually they kick you out the door ASAP.

She also told me that she is working at a shop in one of the big malls. She is so funny... she said she knew how I felt about malls! It made me laugh. I can't even recall the last time I was at that mall. It has been at least say, 10 years. When you get everyone to give you clothes for Christmas, it solves ever having to go shopping. I just can't stand being in a mall. Sheesh...there are untrained people there. They are everywhere and they use up all the oxygen! It is going to be awful to have to go there, but I guess I will just have to suck it up and go. She is still going to open her own shop, and I would really rather wait until she does, so she doesn't have to split the dough, but we will see. I am just glad she wasn't hurt any worse, and is back to work. I was not happy at the prospect of finding another artist. Experimenting with permanent markings on my skin is not something I am looking forward to!

Happy Happy Joy Joy!!!

Contemplating my navel

2008-12-26T21:40:00.002-06:00

I was sitting here this week, having my own private pity party. This year has been very difficult for me. My mother passed away just over a year ago, and I miss her a lot. Add to that, she made me the executor of her will. I know why she did it, because I am mean assed. She knew that I would be fair or die trying. I don't think she had any idea what her state of affairs was during the last few years. She was barely making ends meet, but until the last couple of months she was alive, I didn't know. I don't think she did either. As long as there was enough money to pay the bills, she was totally unconcerned about it. I am glad actually that she didn't live her life stressed out about stuff like that. It was a blessing for her. It is a mess for me. I have not had a very easy time trying to get her estate settled for a lot of reasons. If you haven't ever done this, you have no idea what it takes, and how depressing it is. To have to go through all her things and decide what to keep, what to sell, and what to trash was horrible. It just goes on and on, and when you have fixed one problem, another one comes along. Trying to pay bills on two houses, and make sure the yardwork is done, nobody trashes her house, and keep the realtor working, court appearances, attorneys, blah blah blah, is hard. I absolutely hate going over to her house. It is so empty without her there. I just want it sold and gone so that I can close this book.

So, while I am sitting around feeling sorry for myself, I get an email from one of the horse groups I belong to. It is from my friend Kristi. She is a great one. She is probably the toughest, bravest, most patient woman I know. She recently got bucked off her dead quiet mare when she spooked at a bunch of trash on a trail. It was totally unexpected, and Kristi was hurt pretty badly. She unfortunately fractured her back, and it scared her. Well I say, of course you'd be scared. It isn't like you bounced up, spit out some dirt, and walked away. This was a serious injury. She also had some other bad times this year, she lost her beautiful cat, and was very sad. But here she is, wishing everyone a Merry Christmas, and hoping that next year will be better for all of us. Sheesh, that girl. She is my hero actually. She has an autistic son that needs a lot of her time, and she gives it. Her kids are so great, and you can tell that she dotes on them, and loves them. Her husband is often out of town for his work, so she is alone with them a lot of the time, but you know, she *never* complains. Kristi does endurance rides with her beautiful Arabian mare named Shaqerriae. She is a lovely mare. Shaqerriae hurt herself badly last year, and almost died. Even though Kristi has gone through all this "stuff", she is still able to be cheerful, even when she is hurting. She has given me such a lift. I am grateful to have her as my friend. She doesn't know it, but she (along with a couple of other special friends) had made it possible for me to get through this year. Just when I think it's too much, I get an email from her, and it makes it easier to go on. I think she has no idea what her kindness meant to me this year, it's just who she is, and what she does.

So now it's my turn to say, hang in there girl. You will heal, and decide what you want to do, or not do. Let Di help you. She loves you, and will take care of you. Take the time you need, and don't sweat the small stuff. You are strong, and you will be fine. You are a such special person, and I am proud that you are my friend :)

The question is...

2008-12-26T20:58:00.005-06:00

To cut or not to cut...that is the question. I am contemplating cutting my hair. This is no small decision for me. It took me a lot of years to grow it out, and now it is down to my butt. The bad thing about long hair is the limitations. You can put it in a pony tail...or a braid...or pigtails/braids (and endure the Pocahontas remarks), or a bun, or one of those celebrity mussy updoos. The bad thing is when you do the kind of work I do, it can be a serious liability. When you are up on the back of a concrete mixer looking down into the drum to see the mud, you worry that it will get caught on something and get you killed. Also, it is long enough that it falls over my shoulder and gets in the concrete. Oh, and it is fricking hot in the summer too. If I wet it down to cool off it stays wet for hours, which contrary to what you'd think does not make you cooler, it just makes you hot and wet.

I have had short hair before. I have had it so short that it was really a longish buzz cut. I liked it that way. It's super easy to care for, but then you have to get it cut every 5 or 6 weeks or it is a mess. I love me some curls too, and when your hair is three feet long, there is no such thing. I had a Stevie Nicks perm a while back and while I loved it, it was a pain in the ass to care for. Long and layered with a big curl perm. I couldn't run a brush through it or I looked like Broom Hilda. My hair will hold a perm forever, so that is a consideration. I have also considered dying it a couple of shades lighter, and with long hair, that is a pain. I really need to go to a salon and have it done, but that would cost a small fortune as it is. Here is a pic of me with Big E. It's a few years old, notice no tattoo? My hair is a about or so inches longer now.

So here I am... and I am leaning towards cutting it off. There is plenty for locks of love, and at least it would be put to use that way. I dunno... we'll see. Bill didn't fall down and scrub his face on the concrete when I asked what he thought. He actually said he kind of liked it short and curly, so...

The mail came

2008-12-24T10:36:00.002-06:00

And in it was a check. The check is from the people we are subbing the big BA performing arts center job from. We invoiced them a month ago, because we should have been half done by now. Due to delays (for which we are not responsible), we have barely done any work there. I guess they decided they could trust us, because we have basically been paid half of the contract in advance, and there is still not a weeks worth of work for us to do there. YAY! Now we can pay the mortgage. WooHoo!

Frozen Farriers

2008-12-24T10:23:00.004-06:00

I stopped at the QT yesterday and picked up some drinks for the guys. I always bring them something to drink, so we can gossip when they're done trimming. Yesterday I got both hot chocolate and sodas. They came early, which they almost never do, so I was still sitting in the truck contemplating just how damn cold it was, and procrastinating catching the prisoners. I hopped out and got some hay to throw out. The greedy guts never learn that being lured with some tasty alfalfa means they are gonna get caught...thank whomever.

While they were scarfing down the hay, the guys were swilling down their hot chocolate. They really looked cold. Their faces were all red, and their fingers too. Craig's gloves had holes in them. The wind was terrible, so I can imagine how cold his hands were. Brrrr. I got their presents out of the truck, and they just lit up. I have not seen such excitement in a long time. Craig declared that now he would be able to make it through the day with his sister in law present. I kind of got the impression that he doesn't like her much ;) John was pretty excited too. Now if you want to see indignation, all bright and shiny, just ask a 21 year old young man if that kind of gift is gonna piss his momma off. Dear lord, you'd have thought I asked him if his diaper needed changing! Whew! He quickly informed me that he did NOT live with his momma, and even if he did, he was old enough! Well alrighty then :-) I told him that I just didn't want to cause any trouble, and he got untwisted. I think he thought I was making fun of him. I wouldn't do that...who would trim Prisoner X then?

Everyone got trimmed, and I shooed the guys off. It was too cold to stand around and gossip like we usually do. I fed the prisoners their dinner, soaked with hot water, and they were happy. Next trim is scheduled for Feb 3rd. Hopefully it won't be snowing/raining/or blowing 100 mph.

The best farriers on earth

2008-12-23T09:43:00.005-06:00

I have the best farriers on earth. My guy Craig, and his apprentice John come every six weeks. To say that I am obsessed with feet is putting it mildly. In the past, I have had horses that had foot problems. Of course those problems were not caused by neglect, but that does not matter. They had to have shoes on a regular schedule, or they got sore/lame.

I get pretty antsy if my prisoners don't get their feet done on a regular schedule. Logically, I know they won't die, or become lame overnight if they chip a foot, but I can't stand it. It makes me crazy. I know everyone has their "thing" - horses too skinny/fat/unmannerly/whatever, but tidy feet are mine. This year has been wet, and warm (up till this month), so their feet have grown fast. In 4 weeks they are ready for a trim, so I spend the next two weeks lamenting the fact that it will be two more weeks before Craig and John come to do their thing, and carefully averting my eyes from the agonizing chips! Yes, I am crazy. It makes Joleen laugh. I am serious though. I can't stand even looking at feet that are all chipped up, or obviously too long. It makes me want to grab a belt sander and fix 'em up.

So back to Craig and John. They come faithfully every six weeks. Craig trims Prisoner Y, and John does Prisoner X. They both do a great job. Craig is so good with Baxter. Baxman had the scratches/photosensitivity so bad this year that we could barely pick up his hind feet, but Craig got him done, and nobody died. YAY! John is so careful with my old girl Susie. She is arthritic, and has trouble with her hind legs. He is gentle, and gives her all the time she needs to be comfortable. She actually dozes while he trims her. I love these guys. I just hope when Craig is famous and has all the H/J barns calling him that he will be willing to keep coming out for my meager two trims. I am not above bribing and paying bonuses to insure he will keep coming out.

This year, John is over 21, so he will get the usual farrier Christmas present - a nice bottle of Crown Royal. Craig said that I am his only customer who ever gives him a Christmas present. Can that be true??? Surely not. Well, I guess in a way that is a good thing. If it were me, I would dump the stingy people and stay with the one who gave me good booze, but I am a bit mercenary :) I was at the liquor store buying the booze and had pulled the boxes off the shelf and put them on the counter by the register. The guy at the register asked me didn't I want the gift boxes? I was like Huh? He said there were gift boxes with crystal glasses for the same price. I said Hell Yeah! I am all about free, and the nice crystal glasses make me look like a little less of a cheap skate :-) See the glasses? They're even etched. It was nice of the guy to point them out.

Soon I will take off to meet them. I usually take them a soda, but I think today I will take some hot chocolate. It is way warmer today than it was earlier this week (highs in the high teens with 30-40 mph wind!), but it is wet, windy, and about 35. I think I will take some hot water with me and make a mash for the prisoners. They like that. Stay warm everyone!

Ho ho...no!

2008-12-23T09:24:00.006-06:00

We came to the office today, same as every other day. It has been pretty fricking cold here for December. Yesterday it was freezing in my office all day, despite the electric space heater stashed under my desk. I need it because the little bulldog gets cold without it. Oh yeah, I like it too. Anyhow, today we came and the MIL told us that the heater on her side of the offices was not working. Perhaps this is why my office has felt so cold eh? Right now, we have a fan pushing air from our section of the office over to hers. Fortunately we have 3 heating units for the office area, + another for the shop area. But dammit! We were supposed to leave work at 2 today. Now we will have to wait on the heater people to come see if they can fix whatever is wrong. It could be a few dollars, or a few thousand. Not what we needed to hear right now. Cross your fingers that it's a blown fuse or some other equally fixable-for-cheap thing. Merry Christmas... uh yeah....

I am not Imelda Marcos

2008-12-23T09:00:00.003-06:00

Bill keeps calling me Imelda. Honestly! A girl needs some shoes, yes? This girl happens to only be able to wear a few kinds, so when she finds them, she buys them. So there. Here we have the latest finds. Worth their weight in gold I say. If you only knew how long I have been waiting for a purple pair... *sigh*

I *love* the ebay saved search thingy. It sends me new shoes in just the style/size I want every time someone lists them. If they have a reasonable buy-it-now price, I can snag them before all the other goons even see them! YAY! Life is good. Anyhow, here they are...purple, turquoise, and black. Awesome! ;)

Sleet, I still hates it...

2008-12-17T10:54:00.003-06:00

Well, now the main roads are fairly clear, and you can mostly go the speed limit. YAY! The back streets however are even worse than they were the first day. The temp's have been so low that even the ice is not doing a good job of melting stuff. The roads by the barn are abysmal and very dangerous. What little stuff melted has now frozen again and is a solid sheet of ice. If I had a pair of ice skates I would be having some fun, but in my pickup it is pretty scary. Here in Oklahoma, we do have some winter weather, but usually it doesn't last long, so we don't have a lot of experience driving in it. People don't slow down and it is downright scary sometimes. I really hate going out in it, but so far I have done pretty well. The only trouble I've had is turning into the barn drive. It is right at the top of a hill and it's polished to a very nice shine - in other words, it is slick as greased owl shit. You have to creep up and roll in. If you try to brake or accellerate, you are in trouble. Now that I have that figured out, everything is peachy!

The prisoners love this weather. They are pigs, and live for anything that gets them extra food. Because the temps have been so low, and the fact that Prisoner X is old, and Prisoner Y has almost no hair, I have been giving them some extra alfalfa. They are going to be upset when it warms back up to normal temps and the extra slop stops flowing. They have been very busy shitting up the barn. I bedded it down with some nice bermuda hay so they would have a good dry place to sleep, with the added benefit of being able to eat the bedding. Besides, it was *waaay* cheaper to use hay than shavings. I will have to pick out the poop tonight. It has just been too cold for my weenie butt to stay out there and pick. The wind has finally died down today, so they ate outside this morning. YAY!

I actually saw the BM throwing hay to the old man and his gelding friend today. I have been breaking the ice on their tank and I took them some warm water yesterday. They seem to be doing fine. It is supposed to warm up to the 60's Friday. I will have to fill my water tanks then. The watering system at the barn is primitive - a bazillion hoses strung all over god's green earth, and when the weather is freezing there is no water to the paddocks. It sucks, but it's what it is and you learn to work around it. Last year it was cold so long that I had to haul in water twice a day. Hopefully this year that won't happen, but if it does, oh well :-) As my DH says, "Isn't horse ownership *wonderful*?" And I say, yes, indeed it is!

Animal rights?

2008-12-17T10:13:00.002-06:00

What is up with animal rights? Animals are. They are animals. They do not have rights. They they live in the moment. They are our devoted companions, and provide us with happiness, but I don't believe they have any rights. Rather, I believe that we humans who own animals have responsibilities. We have the responsibility to treat our animals humanely. We are responsible for their well being, making sure their needs are met. Part of our responsibility is to treat them well, never being cruel or neglectful.

I am tired of all the people who insist that animals are children. These people believe that animals *are* equal to people. These are the same people who won't put a suffering animal down because they don't have the guts. Man up people. If you love widdle Pookie so much, make the tough decision. Do the right thing even though it hurts. Making your baby suffer when you have the ability to end that suffering is cruel and wrong. I don't get this at all. I have worked at barns and vets, and I have seen first hand what animals go through when their owners don't have the intestinal fortitude to do the right thing. If this is love, I would hate to see cruelty. There are things worse than death. I know because I've seen them.

The end goal for a lot of animal rights people is that no animal should be "exploited" by humans. This means that no animal be under the control (or responsibility) of humans. No pets. No livestock. Nothing. No breeding, or ownership period. If that isn't crazy, I don't know what is. Anyone who has ever owned an animal of any kind knows that domesticated animals are dependent on humans for everything. If you have ever lived in the country, you know what a dumped dog looks like. How it gets thinner and thinner until it disappears either because it starved to death, was run over by a car, or eaten by something bigger. Anyone who thinks that horses can live just fine running free, take a gander at what the mustangs are going through. Starvation is an ugly thing.

People who are responsible animal owners must keep on top of what our government is doing. We have to write letters to our representatives and let them know that we are here, and we don't want them telling us what we can or cannot do with our animals. If we don't, we will not have anyone to blame when it becomes illegal to own a pet or breed our horses or cattle. I for one do not want to live long enough to see that day, and it is happening slowly in bits and pieces now. How sad for us all.

I know I am rambling, but I am so annoyed by all the bleeding hearts that I just can't help it. I am tired of their bleating and bawling. The ignorance is amazing and unbelievable. I am appalled on a daily basis. Sheesh....

Hot water, no NCA

2008-12-15T11:08:00.002-06:00

Our friday pour for the bank was super. It is going to look better than the original we did years ago. The funniest part was the crew from the company we subbed this job from. They were there doing a pour on the street. They were waiting on their mud when ours came. We poured out and I started floating the edges. They stood there with their mouths hanging open, staring like a bunch of new calves at a fence. I guess they have never seen a woman finish concrete... It was funny. Made me laugh. Of course, they are also our competition. They only do brick strips because that it the only set of tools they have. The extent of their pours is a strip 16" wide, by however long... they couldn't do a driveway or a patio without some major problems. Bill and I have been doing it long enough that we can do a 1000 foot pour and not have it kick our asses. It would be very amusing to get some chairs and watch them try to stamp a driveway. HA! Anyone want to bring popcorn??

Sleet, I hates it

2008-12-15T10:45:00.003-06:00

It sleeted here last night. Some places got barely anything, and some got lots. Unfortunately, Broken Arrow, where the horses live, got a lot. I am not overly fond of driving my truck on anything but dry pavement, so I waited till 9 to go feed. I hoped that most of the idiots would be at work, or in a ditch, so as not to make me insane (I know, it's too late...kiss my butt). I went the back way, because nobody goes that way. The back way leads to the turnpike which is usually clear by the time I get on it. Well, not today. You could tell they had sanded it a bit, but it was still covered with what is now ice. You couldn't even see the lane markings. Frankly, this scares me to death. Not because I am a terrible driver, but because other people drive like there is nothing on the road. Geebus people. Where are you going? If it is on fire you can't help, and if it isn't it'll be there when you get there. Slow down for heaven's sake. One woman passed me and waved. She was going about 50. I was not surprised to see Michigan tags on her car. I will be happy going 40 and living another day.

When I got to the barn, my feed shed was iced in. I had to shovel about 2 or 3 inches of ice away from the door. The prisoners were not amused. Nor were they in the mood to hear any excuses. It is cold dammit! Where is our slop? Prisoner X was doing a fair imitation of a lippizzan, with her exuberant airs above the ground. I didn't know a 23 year old horse could do that ;) Prisoner Y was less enthusiastic because Prisoner X was busy running him around in circles. He was too concerned with preserving his hide to do any tricks. I fed them in the barn so their alfalfa wouldn't all blow away in the wind. Oh just so you know, the wind chill was -2 according to the weather guessers. It felt at least that cold.

I checked on the orphan horses in the two paddocks across from my prisoners. Someone strung a tank heater to the first paddock. The second one didn't have one so I broke the ice for them. I just don't get these people. Apparently nobody ever comes out to feed or check on any of these horses. I have been filling the water tanks for the last three weeks because I can't just walk away from horses that have no water. The amazing thing is that two of the three horses in paddock #1 have been blanketed for a week, and the other one had a blanket and hood on today. Who does that crap? Why blankets but no water? Don't people realize that horses colic without water? Horses die without water? But we don't want the little darlings to get cold!!! Bah! A pox on all their houses. Some people should only own stuffed animals. Idiots.

Fowl doings

2008-12-14T20:43:00.007-06:00

I went to my friend's house to deliver her Christmas present. I was just there last week to deliver it, but me being me had walked out of the house without it... typical :) I was also going to take pictures of her beautiful horses, but the wind was blowing about 50 mph, so that was a bust. Anyway, she and her DH were out of town judging a horse show, so I just dropped it off in her office and was going to leave when I saw a little parade shaping up between the two barns. My friend has all sorts of animals, and they are all pets. If someone goes missing she is out searching for them, and they all love her and come for petting. Here are some of her friends.

Now I love birds, and these turkeys are beautiful, but they are strange too. I think they are, in fact, proof that there are aliens on our planet. I mean what other animal looks like this?? The white ones let me scratch and pet them. The hen loved it and followed me around after that. Bill calls birds dino birds. If you look closely at any bird, they do look very prehistoric, and the bigger the bird, the more evident it is. Their feet look scaley, and their eyes... scary enough. Big birds like emus and ostriches look at you as if you might possibly be food. I think they are speculating on how much of a fight you'd put up. Most horses are horrified by turkeys. The toms like to scrape their wing feathers on the ground, and the rattling noise they make will send a lot of horses right into orbit. (fortunately Baby Huey is deaf!) The white tom is a patriotic guy!

I am in love with this boy. He has one blue eye and one brown eye, just like Monkey. He is really beautiful and the pictures don't do him justice. His feathers are irridescent and so shiny.

Hot water and 1% NCA

2008-12-11T21:00:00.004-06:00

If you know what this means, you must be a concrete monkey! Hot water and NCA is what you put in concrete to make it get hard faster. NCA is Non Calcium Accelerator. Concrete gets hard because of heat. It's called hydration. When concrete is made with hot water, it makes it set up faster. When you add in some NCA, it gets hard even faster. Since it was cold today, we decided we'd just help the mud along a bit. We really hate it when the concrete just sits there. It's like a great gray mass that jiggles with laughghter every time we check to see if it's getting hard. A smug little mud pie sitting there doing nothing while we dither. Well, not today.

We have been in the office mostly for the last couple of weeks, waiting on the big job to start. As a consequence of sitting on our ever widening asses for a few weeks, we are not in finishing shape...or much of any shape but round ;) We opted to do half of what was set up for a couple of reasons. First, we have been sitting around eating like it was our last meal for weeks. Second, because the mix design that was already approved came from a different concrete company, we were unsure of how the mud would be. We didn't want to get an ass kicking on our first pour. Aren't we the clever ones? Yes, we are. Cutting this pour back was the smartest thing we have done in a long time. The hot water and NCA did their job. We had poured out, and just finished edging all the pours when we decided that it wasn't just drying out on top, this shit was getting hard. When Bill says "this is getting hard", that is code for "I am gonna work your ass off", or alternately, "we are gonna get our asses kicked". Personally, neither of those options is very appealing to me. I am allergic to hard work, and my butt doesn't appreciate being kicked.

This being our first pour on the job, and our first time working for this particular company, we were determined to make a good first impression, so we kicked it into high gear. Well, Bill and I did. The rest of our crew pretty much wandered around aimlessly, or pretended to work, far away from where the actual work was going on. This is normal for us actually, so it wasn't a huge deal, but I digress. Just so you know, today's pour was actually four pours. They were three foot wide three sided tree rings. We had to run back and forth between the pours, doing all the things we had to do to make it ready to stamp. We managed to keep enough ahead of it to get it all stamped. It actually ended up being a very good first day, and the stampwork looks great.

Tomorrow we have a very similar pour on another job. We are replacing some work we did a few years ago. This job is for a bank. We had put stamped work around three sides of their building, and the city tore out all the stuff on two sides when they widened the street. The bank insisted that the replacement concrete match what was there before. We found this very amusing because the company we are working for is our competition, but they don't have the tools needed to match our work. Nobody does. Hee hee! Sucks to be them. Needless to say, we decided to take the NCA out of the pour tomorrow. We both feel like someone ran over us and then backed up so they could do it again. We don't want to have to work at warp 9 two days in a row... Damn it sucks to get old. My brain is stuck on about 19, but my body tells me in no uncertain terms that it is not amused, and is old. I'm off to get a couple of tennis elbow straps and a new wrist brace. At least tomorrow is Friday. Oh and next week, they are predicting "winter precipitation" all week. Hot damn! Another week to eat! Woot!

Elf Yourself!

2008-12-09T19:30:00.002-06:00

Hey Kristi, I know you aren't feeling well, so this should make you laugh. I hope it doesn't make your back hurt... Be careful or you'll wet yourself!

http://elfyourself.jibjab.com/view/bdDYNNdiztlbZY7KLRKy

I hate developers

2008-12-08T15:24:00.002-06:00

We have a big job under contract. There have been a multitude of delays, and we are still waiting to start. In the mean time, we have been hustling smaller jobs, and got two in the last two weeks. One of them was an on again off again thing that as of last week was supposedly on. All that was left to do was for the owner to pick a color. Well, I just got a call from the guy we were going to sub the job from. Seems that the developer wants a different company's tool system. The architect and the owner both approved our tools and picked a color, but apparently the developer had an entire litter of kittens and insisted on the other tools. This is suspicious on several levels, but is not all that unusual. The real corker is when the guy we were supposed to do the work for asked me if there was a contractor around with the other tool system. Now I am a real nice gal, but I do not believe it is my obligation to sell work for our competition. As far as I know there is not a contractor with the other system anywhere in Oklahoma. Even if he were next door, I sure wouldn't help someone find him and do work that we were supposed to do. Call me bitchy that way.

The other highly annoying thing about this job is that we had a verbal commitment to do the new GIANT wally world there. They told us to book the time and get ready. Well, we didn't hear from them, and drove over there, and lo and behold someone else had done this huge assed job. It looks like crap, and I am sure they got what they paid for. There are barely any joints on a lot of it, and it is definitely not up to the standards that wally world set during the 2 years we worked with them to specify these stores. The developer who is insisting on the other tool system undoubtedly approved that stuff, and is wanting the same thing in front of this bank we were supposed to do. I feel sorry for the guy we were going to work for. He admitted that the developer is a pain in the ass and does not pay well. Ain't that an incentive for us to work for them now... not on your best day. Hey, at least we found out before we invested a lot of time and money in the job. Thank whomever....

Shoe report

2008-12-08T08:45:00.002-06:00

Bagged another pair. They are turquoise sorta... Total $25 shipping included. Such a buy!

Optimism abounds...cautiously

2008-12-08T08:16:00.002-06:00

I went to my friend's house Saturday, to drop off her Christmas present. I started out by going to the feed store. It is *always* a hair raising experience on a Saturday. Everyone who can't make it during the week comes then. People butt in line and hog the dock, so if you're a polite sort, you get to wait and wait. The kid who was loading grain had an attitude going on. I guess he was pissed because all the other hands were unloading a truck, so he had to load all the customers. Whatever the reason, he was slinging grain around managed to break open three of my bags :( Little turd. Went back and got my alfalfa and headed to my friend's place.

This woman raises thoroughbred hunters. She has some of the prettiest horses I have seen in a long time. I am a little jealous maybe. Of course she actually rides and shows them, so I am not too jealous. My less than stellar show career was over years ago, thank goodness! Anyway, once I pulled into her drive, I realized that I had left her present at home. *sigh* Anyone who knows me knows that this is not surprising. It's ok though. She is close enough that I can go back next weekend. I will take pictures of her horses when I go back. They are just gorgeous.

So we come to the reason for the cautious optimism. The waiting period for creditors has either passed, or is about to pass, and the biggest creditor for my mother's estate, a credit card, has not responded. If they don't respond, we are not obligated to pay them. YAY! That would be such a relief. Now if we could only get the house sold... It'll happen.

Little Monsters

2008-12-05T08:06:00.004-06:00

I don't have any children. I made the decision a long time ago that I would not be a good parent, and therefore should not have children. I wish that a *lot* of other people had been as conscientious. There are apparently a lot of people in this world who indiscriminately reproduce for fun, and without any thought of the consequences.

Today I stopped at the local convenience store to get something to drink. It is always crowded, usually with a herd of day workers waiting for someone to come pick them up. Today there was a smaller herd of teenagers. They were hanging out at the fountain drinks. This is at the back of the store, and is next to the coffee bar. It is always the busiest place in the store, and often so crowded that you have to wait in line. The teens were hogging the fountain bar, standing and swilling energy drinks, blocking everyone else. I finally got my tea and went to the counter to put a lid on it. One of the little princesses came over and slung her cup into the trash. It was half full and of course I got an energy drink shower. Grrrr. She just looked at me. I wanted to slap her face. They do this every morning. They go in and drink as much as they can and then throw the cups away. I guess their "parents" haven't taught them that stealing is wrong. I used to report it to the clerks, but they just said it's an "expected loss", and they are "too busy" to keep an eye on things like that. Fine with me, except that when people steal stuff the rest of us pay for it, one way or another.

I am not an "old lady", but I am old enough to be most of these kids' mother, and it really pisses me off when kids act like thugs. They are disrespectful, rude, and thoughtless. Their parents have little or no control over them, and cater to their every whim. They are producing a generation of entitled, selfish assholes. These kids are not cute. They are little monsters. They are overindulged, whiney, self-absorbed spoiled brats, with never a consequence their actions. Their parents ought to be ashamed, but of course they are like barn blind horse owners. Not *my* kid. My child is perfect... he/she/it would *never* do something like that. Well guess what Mommy, your little yuppie spawn does indeed do crappy stuff. Someday you will see it. Probably when they move back in with you after college because working doesn't fit in with their entitled lifestyle. You will be spending your meager retirement supporting the slobs that you raised and conditioned to believe that everything they want magically appears, without any effort on their part. Enjoy Mommy and Daddy, the fruits of your labor. Perhaps you should have had a better plan, eh?

I know that there are good kids out there. I even know a few personally that are polite, helpful, and respectful. They are always a pleasure to be around, and their parents are to be commended. It's just unfortunate that the good kids are greatly outnumbered by the spoiled bratty ones. It used to be the other way around. *SIGH* I guess I am an old lady...

I just saw this... http://tinyurl.com/6s96jj Sadly, I am not surprised one tiny bit. Disgusting. And Daddy is defending her. Yeah....

Shoe report

2008-12-03T08:57:00.002-06:00

I snagged another pair of black shoes on ebay! Such a deal...$26. *If* you can find them in the stores they are at least $55 a pair. I also won a pair of red ones, but she emailed me and said she couldn't find them... WTF? Oh well.

I am a little obsessed about these shoes. Because of my right foot, I can only wear a few styles of shoe, so I buy all of them I can get my hands on at a "reasonable" price. I hate paying $50 for a pair of shoes I will wear out in 3 or 4 months...Call me crazy. I will answer.

Muppet Wave

2008-12-03T08:20:00.003-06:00

Yaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyy!

Bill called me outside yesterday to see what he was doing. I got out there and lo and behold, in our parking lot stood a round pen! He has been making feet for it out of the left over composite decking material we had. Now the dirt won't get all stuck in the legs and rot them off. It looked huge! but we didn't measure it. I swear, this is the best horsey buy I have made in a long time. I got a pretty darn nice round pen for $225! Woot!

Now to find time to haul it out to the barn and assemble it in my paddock. It is going to be too cold today, but maybe Friday. Pretty exciting stuff in my dull life. Prisoner X has a rude rude awakening coming...heh heh heh.

Drift Into Overdrive

2008-11-29T22:40:00.004-06:00

Drift Into Overdrive is a very special horse. She is Baby Huey's momma. She is such a fine animal. I love her. She has produced some really great babies, and I have the best of them. My friend Joleen owns her, and she loves her too. Drift is such a nice mare. She loves attention and is always polite. She is one of those horses that is a joy. She doesn't fight or act marish. Just a good girl. She may come keep Susie company when Baxter goes to the trainer. What a treat for me :) She is one of those keeper mares. She will have a home until she dies, and she deserves it.

Here are some pictures of her. Joleen and I speculate that she has shrunk a bit in the last few years. I distinctly remember her being taller than this :) And see the blue spot in her eye? That's cool.

Dancing in the dark

2008-11-29T22:08:00.004-06:00

Rules for feeding animals of the equine persuasion after sundown :

Rule #1. Try never to feed in the dark.

Rule #2. If you must feed in the dark, always remember that horses can see quite well without much light. You may have a difficult time seeing a black horse in the dark (ya think?), but he is busy playing peekaboo with you. Be afraid.

Rule #3. Remember that Prisoner Y perceives any deviation from normal routine as an excuse to play. This is when Hide and Seek begins. I find it horrifying that a huge horse can be so damn quiet. It is not amusing to turn around and find yourself face to face with a two foot long nose. Note: "Playing" with a 15oo lb horse in the dark is not fun. GAH!

Rule#4. Never ever depend on the feeders being where you left them. Baby Huey has other plans. Now the fun begins.

Rule #5. While searching for missing feeders (see rule 4), never assume that you will find them. Have a backup plan in place, and prepare to lose whatever container you use for the backup. Baby Huey is a busy boy.

Rule #6. Never depend on the prisoners becoming bored and patiently waiting for you to serve their slop, while you are searching a three acre paddock for the slop bowls. As soon as you are lulled into a false sense of security, you will hear thundering hooves. Prepare to die.

Rule #7. Never assume that a deaf horse can't find you in the dark. He may be deaf, but his snooter works just fine, and he *knows* that you have a tiny apple wafer crumb in your jacket pocket. He knows this because he can smell it from 5 miles away in a good stiff wind. He feels obligated to hunt you down and wrest it from your frail body.

Rule #8. Never try to escape from the prisoner in the dark. Remember he can see better than you can, even though you have a flashlight, and he will mow you down to retrieve the cookie. Screaming like a cat on fire while running through knee high dead grass only encourages the prisoner to persue you more intently. Throwing the apple wafer and running in the opposite direction may buy you enough time to reach safety.

Rule #9. Accept the fact that after you have searched all the usual places and come up empty handed you must use the shabby torn slop bowls. As soon as you have admitted defeat, the good bowls magically appear but it is too late. You have already poured the slop in the icky bowls.

Rule #10. Be happy that only one of the prisoners felt the need to assault you, and you did not recieve any crippling injuries. Whew!

2008-11-28T22:47:00.002-06:00

I think this picture captures my recent mood fairly well. It's been there less than a week and this is all that's left. It was a good sized deer.

The Chaps

2008-11-28T22:46:00.003-06:00

Well, here they are. We are a little disappointed, but I guess it was a good learning experience. This woman bills herself as a custom chap maker. What she actually does is custom-ize chaps. She has a bunch made up in various sizes and has you try them on until one fits "good". This should have been our first warning. She didn't ever take any measurements. She found one that she felt fit well enough, and made his from that pattern.

Bill wanted red/burgundy, so we had to order the leather, which was fine. He wanted some shield knots on them, and we figured that would be simple for someone who supposedly had a lot of experience. Well, we figured wrong. If you click on these pictures you will see the lack of attention to detail. I am not just randomly bitching about this. I have done plenty of applique work, and a lot of leatherwork and this is unacceptable for a pair of chaps that cost $550.

We do like how the colors worked out. They are different, but not too gaudy and I think they are bright enough to make people notice him, which was the main purpose with going custom.

We think they look ok, but the lower legs are not great. They are waaay too loose, and it wasted quite a bit of leather. *sigh* We have begun to seriously consider this as a way to supplement our income. We have a heavy duty sewing machine that we have used to make tents in the past, so that major expense is already done. Between the two of us, we have enough leatherworking experience to do this, and do it well. Bill is very anal retentive about things being perfect, so nobody would walk away disappointed. Now all we have to do is make up a couple of pair and get people to wear them as advertising. I don't understand why someone would spend $30K on a bike that is all dolled up and fancified, and then wear the same chaps as every other biker. We are going to make a pair for my brother I think. He is pretty active, and lots of folks see him. Maybe some flames down the legs, or wings as a yoke.

I think there is a wide open market for true customs made to fit a person, and appliqued to match their bikes. Maybe I will be able to retire someday! Woot!

Bricks and slate

2008-11-28T22:36:00.004-06:00

This job was for our tear-out guy Skip. His poor wife has been waiting for a front walk and porch for three years. We found time to do it before the big job and apparently she loves it. If momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy. Skip is happy. All in all, a nice little job.

We always dislike putting a second color/pattern border in the middle of something. It is a huge pain in the ass, and makes things way more complicated. In this case, we could have poured this in one day, but the border made that impossible. The right side , brick wall, and border were done in one pour, and the left side with it's brick wall were done in the second pour.Bill tried really hard to talk her out of it, but she knew what she wanted, and it really does look sharp. I have never done the brick wall before. It was pretty neat. I love the crow foot tool that makes the corners.This is after it was sealed. You can see the slate texture nicely.
This is all handwork. Fun stuff :)

sick and tired

2008-11-26T10:15:00.002-06:00

You know that trite old saying? I am sick and tired of being sick and tired? Well I am. I am tired of being depressed. I am just tired. I hate the holidays. I hate all the fake cheer and fakely cheery people. I am sick of it all.

Big job update

2008-11-21T14:00:00.002-06:00

The concrete guy on the big job in Broken Arrow called us. He wanted to let us know that the entire job had been shut down because his dirt dood had cut a four inch gas line. Holy Mother! That is so dangerous. I am glad it did not happen while we were working there. Anyhow, more delays... We did manage to pick up one small and one middle sized job. The small one is done and I will have pictures next week after it's sealed. It is a very cool job. The middle sized one is an entry for a bank. We are supposed to start it next week. I am not holding my breath...I do not look good in blue.

I *love* my work...

Well hell.

2008-11-21T13:47:00.002-06:00

I finally saved up enough money for a new tattoo. I have been itching to have some passionflowers done on my right arm so I won't look so lopsided. So I trundled my butt over to the tattoo shop. The tattoo shop is in the rear of a head shop in Broken Arrow. It is sort of a seedy place, but you just walk through and they don't bother you, so it's ok. I got back there, and there wasn't a soul in the place. I looked around and Lesa's painting was gone.... and so was all of her stuff. Damn. I am not happy. I went to the counter in the head shop and asked where she was. He told me she had been fired and no longer worked there. I made an educated guess of "lateness an missed appointments". He said yes. I was neither shocked nor surprised. She was late a lot. I didn't mind because she does good work, and from what I have gathered, it is pretty typical of tattoo folks to have some quirks. *sigh* She emailed me a while ago and told me that she had finally gotten enough money together to open her own shop. She was not a happy camper working there, but it costs a ton to open your own place, so she had to wait. I told her to let me know when she got set up and I would come by. So now I have to wait until she reads her email, which is not frequently. I don't know what I will do if she doesn't answer me. I definitely am not thrilled about finding a new artist. Not just anyone is going to be allowed to put anything permanent on my frail little body. It is hard to find someone decent. So I will wait... patience is not my forte, but I will try.

Gloom, Despair, and Agony on ME!

2008-11-17T10:24:00.002-06:00

Deep dark depression...excessive misery...

Ok, not really but not such a great start to the week. We just came back from the big job in Broken Arrow that has been on contract for almost a full year. We were told two weeks ago that today they would be ready. We went by this weekend to check, and found they had about 500 sq. feet ready. Whoopie! There are over 15K square feet on this project. It is supposed to be done by January 1, 2009. AAahahahahahahahaha!!!! Foolish mortals.

Bill and I talked about it, and decided the only way to rock these fine gentlemen off high center was to just show up and start pushing. Unfortunately, they have bigger equipment, so our baby push was met with a big ole backhoe. Damn. Here is what really sucks. We have turned down about twenty five thousand dollars worth of work that we could have gotten done in the next two weeks. Since they have lied to us, and they are not going to be ready till the END of next week we are screwed. Not only did we turn down the work, but they are going to cause us to be unable to meet the project deadline. I sure hope they like payint those liquidated damages, cause I sure ain't gonna. That will give us 3 days to work and then the Thanksgiving holiday. I swear. Why do people have to be dishonest? Why couldn't they just tell us they werent't ready? We are trying to contact the other jobs and see if we can beg them to let us do the work.

Some days it does NOT pay to get out of bed. Damn...

new pics

2008-11-12T17:27:00.000-06:00

I finally added the before pics to Mr. Steffawn's post.

Mr. Steffawn....Fabulous!

2008-11-11T08:16:00.005-06:00

Our latest project was a patio for some friends. They had a pergola put up in their back yard, and wanted a new patio to go under it. It is a beautiful thing, made of rough cedar with lots of embellishment. It was fun to do their patio. It has been a long time since anyone was this excited about their new concrete.

We met Randy and Annette through my brother Stephen. They are all members of a local Harley owners group. They go everywhere together, and have been really good friends for a long time.

Stephen was the designer for this project. Well, not really. He was the designated fidget. He had to make sure that everything was just so....so fidgety. I swear, he was more worried than Randy and Annette. He asked more questions, double checked more patterns and colors, and in general had more anxiety than any of the rest of us put together. He instant messaged and called me so much the week before the job that I seriously considered having him kidnapped and taken away until the job was finished. Of course, he wanted to make sure that R&A were happy with their new patio. He fretted so much that we renamed him Mr. Steffawn. He is not happy about this, but the rest of us laugh. He acted so much the typical decorator (fuss, fuss, fuss!)that we could not resist. He threatens us with bodily harm... funny guy. Uh Mr. Steffawn? This isn't our first pour...really :)

Anyhow, back to the patio. The cover is actually half roofed and half pergola. Under the roofed part, they wanted a simple pattern that was nice and flat for the patio furniture. Under the pergola section, they wanted the forest floor pattern. We did a ripple slate skin under the roof. This is a seamless pattern that you can either score in a design, or leave in large blocks. They opted for a two by two foot pattern, scored on the diagonal. This always makes an elegant look. Bill profiled the house with a nice six inch border to make it look finished. On the pergola end, we used the same slate pattern, along with the tropical leaves, and maple leaves that are native here. I also pulled a couple of leaves off of the trees in their yard and used those too. I really like this pattern. It is pretty labor intensive - lots of crawling on hands and knees, but the result is worth it. We used a lot of colors to hand tint this time. There were 6 different colors, along with the antiquing. I also combined some colors to mimic the leaves changing colors in fall. It was pretty interesting. Hopefully, by next summer we will have a new leaf pattern that is strictly native plants. There are a lot of very interesting leaves here, and it will make a nice pattern for hand coloring. I just have to preserve some leaves until I have time to make the new pattern...there is never enough time.

It was very nice working for R&A. They were so excited. After we got the patio poured, we told them that it would have to cure for a week before we could clean, color, and seal it. Of course, since daylight savings time has come it gets dark before they get home from work. On the day we poured the patio, they were out with flashlights trying to see what it looked like! The day we cleaned and sealed it, they again took the flashlights out and looked it over. Apparently it was like a bunch of little kids at Christmas! I think that is great. I guess I am so jaded that it's nice to see someone excited about their slab :) A called us, and was so excited that I just had to laugh. We met them for dinner the next day, and they were all grins. Fun!

Here are pictures. I sooo need a nicer camera. I had a difficult time getting good shots of the texture, and leaves, but you can get an idea. I thought I had all the pics here, but alas some are at home. I will add before and during shots tonight.

The shoe fairy came!!!

2008-11-10T13:35:00.008-06:00

I have been lusting after a couple of pair of shoes on Ebay for about a year. I am such a tightwad that I didn't want to pay $49 a pair for them. I wear them out so fast I hate spending that much on them. So, periodically I search for them, just to look at the pictures... I am such a doofus.

First off, you have to understand that due to having had a pretty bad club foot (and many corrective surgeries), I am very limited in what kind of shoes I can wear. No high heels, no flip flops or clog type things. My knee goes out in high heels, and because of my foot, I can't even begin to keep anything without an enclosed heel on. It also helps of I have ankle support, so I am limited to very low heels, ala Ropers, or flat shoes - like tennis shoes. I look for shoes all the time, and when I find them cheap I throw them in with the rest of the ones waiting to be worn. I am not particular, because everything I wear ends up trashed, so any color is fine with me.

Anyway, back to my story... I finally broke down and paid the $49 + shipping for the two pair I have been looking at for a year, and guess what? They showed up today! YAY! I think I am going to swoon, they are so pretty! I am NOT going to wear these to work. Nope, no way Jose. These are for dress up! LMAO! At least they are sparkly :) Perfect for a Fairy Princess eh? Ohhh Iridescent sparkly love! My Shoes!!! The ones on the right are actually a sort of green with greyish overtones, kind of dusky. Hard to get a good picture. Bliss!

Here are some of my other shoes, just in case you don't have any water to boil, or some other equally engaging task. These little beauties are my current pair of work shoes. They are covered with color, release, sealer, and other assorted icky stuff.

I like Black because it makes my feet look really small! Ha!

Here are the ones i am wearing right now. They are riding sneakers. They are also covered with grunge. Poor things. These are incredibly difficult to find, as nobody makes them any more. I snag a pair every once in a while. Lucky me! I love them, till they are in pieces...and then a while longer.

This is a pair I got off Ebay. When I saw the ad, I missed the part that said they were patent. Even as odd as I am, I find it really difficult to wear patent leather shoes to work on concrete. So they sit in my office, and I look at them. And they shine. I dunno... maybe some day I will wear them. They are awfully dressy for climbing up the ladder on a mixer though.

Here are the doggers inspecting the goods. I think they both approve. They like my work shoes because they have dog hair all over them. Their dog hair. They smell best.

Next, I will show you all my riding sneaks..... Bet you can't wait.....

Black cats are bad luck.

2008-11-10T10:43:00.002-06:00

I know this because yesterday afternoon I went out to the barn early so I could catch the Bax Man and smear some fungus goop on his back legs. It was a beautiful day. I opened up the feed area and he came right in. I went and got his halter, and he came right over to me to get hooked up. As I was reaching around his neck to put the rope around him, out of the brush pile shoots this wild assed black cat. Of course it ran right between the water tanks and behind Bax. Of course he shot forward...right over the top of me. Smashed my sunglasses into my nose, stepped on my left foot (thank god it wasn't my surgically engineered one), and jammed my right hand. At least he just ran me down and didn't kick out at the cat as he ran off. I watched as his feet flew past me, thinking I was dead meat. If he had kicked out I would have been at the very least (more) brain dead, or perhaps just plain dead.

I am a very lucky girl. I could have been very smashed up, or worse. As it is, I have some bruises, and a couple of scrapes, but nothing serious. Guess I have some more desensitizing work to do.

I hate that cat... and the goats that are probably what flushed the cat out of the brush. I really only hate the cat because it sprays the back of my little feed room and stinks up the whole thing. Stupid Cat.

Houdini

2008-11-10T10:39:00.003-06:00

Here is Houdini. I have no idea what his real name, or even if he has one. I call him that because apprently he can escape from every fence on the place. I have not seen him for a couple of days, so either his owner got some ass kicking hotwire up, someone stole him, he ran away, or he is in horsey heaven.... He is a cute little thing though.

Does anyone care....

2008-11-07T11:33:00.001-06:00

I mean really, does *anyone* care whether or not Toby Keith shaves his pits? Really? Geebus, someone needs to get a life.

Interesting

2008-11-06T08:39:00.002-06:00

I was looking at my site meter, checking out where people are from. I noticed that about 75% of the people from another country are finding my blog by searching for things like hairy blondes, bloody murder, or tattooed ladies.

About the same percentage of people in the US have either been referred by someone who has a horse blog, or they are looking for pictures of concrete.

Isn't that interesting? Things that make you go Hmmmmmm?

Some people should not own horses.

2008-11-05T18:58:00.003-06:00

There are few things more annoying, to me, than someone who has a butt ton of horses and doesn't give a damn about them. Todays diatribe is brought to you by the pretty dappled gray pony that has been standing outside my paddock for the last two days. I have called the barn manager and left messages about him. He is constantly roaming around loose, and often people don't see him, so they leave the gate to the road open. This is a disaster waiting to happen. This morning, the gate was open, and I drove up to my paddock...guess who was there. You got it. The pretty pony. I called the BM again. He finally answered right before his voice mail picked up. He sounded sleepy, which is unusual because he works nights, and is just getting off about the time I feed. I told him that the pony was out *again*, and the gate was open. That is when he said he was in California, and could I please close the gate! Bwaaahahahaha! I woke his ass up! He mumbled something about the pony's owner needing to buy some hot tape for the paddock, since said menace was such a Houdini. He also said something about the pony not seeming to go towards the gate! Holy Cwap Batman! Uh.... it will only go out the gate and be smashed by a car once. (This has actually happened at this place)

Skip to this afternoon. I drove up to feed, and who is still there? Houdini is munching on the icky alfalfa I threw on the burn pile for the bazillion mini goats that roam loose. He has apparently been there all day, judging by the number of poop piles. When I drove up, he left. He trotted across to visit the bay horse who is three legged crippled (I called the BM about him too, see extended rant below*) I fed my two and went to get their hay. Here he comes. He is smart.... he knows about being caught. He followed along down the stallion lane while I took the hay to the barn. Of course, when I went out with the halter, he left. Bastard.

I went down to the main barn to see if anyone knew who owned Houdini, and where his dappled ass belonged. Apparently, his rather absentee owner doesn't come to the barn often. She also apparently would not miss him if he were loaded up and taken to timbuktu. *Apparently* she has fifteen horses in the far back pasture. She is totally unconcerned that one of her horses could get killed on the road, or worse yet, cause a person or a whole car full of people to die. This is one example of someone who should not own horses in my never to be humble opinion.

*Extended rant: The bay horse I mentioned above appeared along with three other horses in the paddock directly across the road from mine. This is not an unusual occurrence as people and horses are in and out of this place like a revolving door. I noticed that he was three legged. His right hind was useless and he was hobbling around looking very uncomfortable. I called the BM (I love how those initials work out! HA!)and told him the horse was crippled. He said that those three horses were not even supposed to be in there, and he didn't know how they'd gotten there. He supposed they had come through the back fence. Of course he would call the owner... and of course the horse is still out there, still crippled. Rant on! Another former client had about 50 fricking broodmares. The woman's hubby passed and left her an apparently endless supply of dollars so she went to the auction and bought every mare anyone was selling. Then she hauled them all to various stallions to have them bred. Sheesh eh? Well, one of them was a pretty gray mare. I always looked for her. One day she was standing all spraddle legged by the front fence. Hmmmm. I had noticed something hanging down under her belly. I went over to look, and this poor mare had a fricking fist sized hole in her belly. Fortunately, there were no guts hanging out, but it was a nasty wound. I called the BM... of course he would call the owner. He thought they had called the vet.... Uh yeah, sure. Every vet I know who actually graduated from an accredited university and passed the boards would have shaved and trimmed that wound, even if they couldn't suture it. 'Cause you can't suture a wound that is DAYS old. Fortunately it did not kill her.

The BM is the same guy who periodically sends out these idiotic demands... like you WILL vaccinate for WNV, and you WILL bring me proof that you have done this. Uh BM? Kiss my ass. What about rabies you idiot? There are just a lot of people in this world who should not own animals...or breed.

You may now return to your regularly scheduled...whatever :)

Quirks I gots 'em

2008-11-03T21:15:00.002-06:00

My friend Holly challenged me to list 6 quirks and then tag 6 other bloggers to do the same. Ok, let's see....

1. I am a tomboy. A 46 year old tomboy. As a little kid, I never played with dolls, or dress-up, or getting into mom's makeup. I still view all of the above with a sneer. There is nothing wrong with trucks I tell ya!

2. I must own a horse. I found this out when I went for a few years without one. There was always this feeling that something was missing, or undone. I figured it out when I bought Emmett, and the feeling went away.

3. I worked as an animal lab technician in a research facility. I liked it. I can tell if there is a mouse in my house by smell.

4. I am a concrete finisher.... (is that technically a quirk, or just mental illness disguised?)

5. I have been married (to the same guy) for almost 22 years... I think that is a quirk today. I only want to kill him with my bare hands about twice a day.

6. I have aphasia from a serious head injury. I lose words...I don't remember things like people's faces, and have short term memory problems.

There! I did it. Well, I did most of it. I only post comments to a couple of blogs, and lurk on a few. I hate to break the "chain", but I don't feel right asking someone who doesn't know me at all.... Hope you're not too disappointed :)

Help!! I've fallen and I can't get up!

2008-11-03T20:24:00.002-06:00

Ok, how many of you have watched those commercials where some poor little old lady is rescued because she has the panic button around her neck? Now, how many of you have made fun of same? I admit it, I have. I have made fun of people who have fallen down by sing-songing that commercial at them. Karma, being the Bitch that she is, gave me a good dose of that today.

We were staining a deck and interior up at Grand Lake. Every house up there is built on the side of a cliff. There is no dirt, only rock, and gravel. I had gone down to grab a hose and pull it around the side of the house. Mission accomplished...no problem. Then as I was walking back around the house, I stupidly stepped on a mound of chat, and the shit all flew out from under my feet. Of course, I fell. I fell downhill. I banged the shit out of my knees, both hands, and my head. Good thing my melon is hard. Damn. I cried.... Of course, my wonderful, kind, loving husband heard the commotion and leaned out over the rail to ask if I was ok. Bastard! He did manage to keep a straight face until I got back on the deck. He didn't actually start laughing till I told him I'd hit my head. He is still laughing... We are not amused. I hate Grand Lake. We have to go back tomorrow.....damn.

Old friend

2008-10-28T09:39:00.002-05:00

Do you all get those annoying emails from classmates dot com where they swear someone is looking for you? Well, I went to the site, and looked around. Nobody was looking for me at all. Boo. While I was there, I searched for my best friend from high school. I didn't find her, but I did initiate a search, so they apparently started searching...and guess what? About 2 weeks later I got an email, and it was my friend! How cool is that? I have been too busy to get together with her, or even email past the first few, but as soon as work calms down, I am going to call her. I was pretty excited. We were inseperable back then, and she is a cool chick. Get this... she is a machinist! LMAO! Now THAT is funny. I am not in the least surprised. Fun huh? Hi Stefanie! :)

The smell of leather....

2008-10-28T08:52:00.004-05:00

It's one of those things that I can't describe, but I know it when I smell it. We got to smell a lot of leather last weekend. Bill will eventually get a big boy bike, and when he does, he will need some leathers to ride in. So, we loaded up, fed the pones, ran to the feed store, and then scooted down the highway to Beggs where the leatherworker has a shop.

Beggs is a tiny little town about forty miles from Tulsa. Of course, knowing how small it is, I did not take the address with me. My bad! The actual area of town with anything resembling a store is about 4 blocks, and we finally found it on the 4th block. LOL lost in a teeny town! We found them in a storefront on Main Street. The smell of leather hit you in the face when you walked in the door. There were racks and racks of the stuff. My brother had recommended them to us. He had a pair of chaps made several years ago and really likes them.

They had a bunch of ready made chaps on some racks. Of course, they were all black. No can do! Chaps are for protection, so I guess most people don't think about them past that. What I don't understand is how someone will spend $30K on a bike with a super fancy paint job, and then wear leathers that are just like everyone else's! I am a weenie. I know that riding a bike is dangerous and it scares me. I think that the brighter and more "different" you are, the more people will look at you. This is a good thing. If they see you, they are much less likely to run your ass over.

I have had custom chaps made before, so I know what all the options are. Poor Bill was a bit overwhelmed, and hadn't really given much thought to what he could actually have done, and what he really wanted. He was willing to go in and accept whatever they shoved down his throat. So we proceeded to tell them what he wanted. He wanted burgundy buffalo hide. Apparently, there is no such animal. (I know better, but...) They did have some burgundy/oxblood bull hide. It was very nice, so we decided on that for the base. It has enough red in it to be really loud next to the ho-hum black that everyone else wears. I asked Bill if he wanted something on the yoke. He looked at me like ??? I told him that he could have a different color on the yoke, or stamping or whatever. So, he says blue. Well there are about 20 shades of blue, so they started pulling out samples and books. He decided on sapphire blue. Cool - the bright/dark color will go well with the oxblood. Then I asked him if he wanted some piping. ???? You know, piping. A thin strip of color between the yoke and the legs. Ohhhhh! Yes. Yellow. Bright yellow. So we found a yellow for the piping. Then he wanted some sunwheels on the legs, done in the same yellow. Those will really get noticed, and I am all about people seeing him on that bike. I tried to talk him into fringe, but I think he was worried about how much they were going to cost. The owner was not big on fringe - said it got stuck in the zipper. Well, it ain't rocket science. Hold the fringe aside while you zip them eh? It's also possible that fringe is too girly. I could smell the smoke from his neurons firing, so no fringe. Even though this is my gift to him, and he should not have worried about the cost, he was fretting. I wasn't....

One thing that worries me is they did not measure him. They had him try on a pair of their ready made chaps and decided that was good enough. I get that bike chaps are different than horse chaps, but geeze. I am used to being measured and having a pattern made for me, or at the very least, having an existing pattern modified to fit me. The woman who owns the shop insisted that the legs have to be big to go over the boots he will be wearing. *No* they don't. You are just being lazy and wasting leather. Bill thought they were fine though, so as he is the one who will wear them, I let it go.

When my brother had his made, the shop was owned by a little old man. He sold the shop this year. The woman who bought it said that after he retired, at 80, he found that he was bored and asked if they would let him come back and work. Well DUH! They were happy to have him back, and frankly, I hope he works on Bill's chaps because I don't know that the new owner will do a bang up job. The old man has made hundreds of pair, so maybe we will get lucky.

When it comes time for me to have a pair, I don't know if I will go to them or not. I am waay more picky about chaps, and I want them to fit me correctly. I don't know if I can do the big baggy legs. Ick! I have made a couple of pair, and they are not hard...maybe I'll make my own! :)

Your tax dollars at work!

2008-10-27T19:12:00.004-05:00

Every day, I drive by miles and miles of pastures full of horses. At first, I thought some obviously insane animal collector was randomly breeding them. My farrier disabused me of this notion by telling me that these were mustangs. The pastures are "holding areas" where they stash all the mustangs that were never adopted. The ranchers that feed them get paid a goodly sum to do absolutely nothing with them, other than make sure they don't starve, and report any that die. There are literally thousands of them standing around eating their heads off. Some of them are quite nicely built, and easy on the eyes. They will remain in the holding areas until they die, and we have the priviledge of paying for it. This really bothers me. I understand people wanting to see them running wild, but these horses are not running wild. They are housed in sex segregated herds, and I have yet to see a single one run. In the winter when the ranchers supplement their hay, they line up like a herd of cattle, eating the cubes the trucks trail out.

Why, pray tell, are we paying hundreds of thousands of dollars a year for this? It's not as if they do tours where people could take pictures, or just look at the horses, rather, they are off limits to the public. I wish all the people who are so adamant about mustangs being part of our history would have to pay for keeping these herds. I love horses as much as the next person, but this seems an unreasonable waste to me.

Sorry for the crappy pics. If you get out of the car they run away....

Idle hands...

2008-10-26T18:34:00.007-05:00

Are nowhere to be found around here! I swear, Bill is trying to kill me. We have been working our collective asses off, and finishing up the jobs left and right. Yay! and Boo! At least we have some money in the bank to make payroll, but damn we are tired.

Just for the record, we do work in hell. Bill once told one of the guys on the crew that he was El Diablo Blanco, and he owned his soul. The poor guy never came back. I don't even think he picked up his final check. Working for the devil. HA!

We did a small patio for a distant relative of Bell Starr. He was very nice, if a bit odd. His wife made things simple for us by wanting only the base color with release. He wanted several highlight colors, but she overruled him. Excellent! We also did a little job for a previous customer. She had a gate put up on her drive, and we had to wreck out a strip for the conduit to go under the slab. We put it back with a nice paver brick pattern. She was easy too. Nice lady :) She says she will be calling us to replace the entire drive. Oh goodie :-P We are working now on another add on for a previous customer. It is tiny, so two days at most! Then we go up to Owasso to do a patio for a friend. She had a beautiful pergola installed, and we are doing the leaf pattern under the open end and a slate skin on the other. It is a bit bigger, bur still not over two days. Coolio!

Remember the job for the family friends? Wellll it is done. Hooray! We are hoping that that was our yearly PITA job. Believe it or not, the damn pump blew up on us...again! We pumped three days. The first day, we had an excellent pump jockey. His name is Randy, and he is the man! We only had one clog, and that is great. The second day, we had the newest driver they have, and man, did he make our lives miserable. First off, he was late, so the pump was not completely set up before the mud arrived. I mean holy hell. It is hard enough to pump a job without having the mixer sit and spin, heating the mud up, and making our job even harder. He finally got his shit together, and started pumping. He put waaay too much slick pack (a runny substance that makes the concrete move through the pump easier) in the hose. Think a huge bucket full of runny snot, and you will have the right image in your mind. We got one good push through, and then the sucker clogged up. He had so much pressure on the pump that, you guessed it, the hose nearest the converter burst. It blasted the whole side of the newly painted house with mud. Grrreat! Love you. Not! So, on top of the mud sitting for an hour before we even started, now we had to wait for this goober to replace the burst hose, and start again. After multiple clogs, we finally got it pumped out. The first of the pour was by now, getting hard fast. We struggled all day long with this pour, and we got our collective asses kicked. Bill is a fricking genius as far as making a "mistake" better. Our first rule is - it isn't a screw up if you can fix it. He fixed a bunch of stuff on that pour. The poor guy ended up having to hand grind a big section, but he did a great job.

Long story short, it is finished, and she loves it. Her hubby came out and told us that it was better than he imagined it could be. He had had his doubts from the first day, but I think he was pretty happy with it.

Here are some pics.

This slab was hand tinted with about three colors, not including the base color, and the highlighting release. It made for a nice effect. I think it is beautiful. I do not want to do this pattern again any time soon. It's a pain to bring two areas together and make them match. Ick. This is the "cave". It was the biggest pain in the ass I have done in a long time. No room to work. We had to make bridges from 2x4's and inch our way through it. Turned out well though

There you have it. Thank goodness it is finished. I hope they enjoy it :)

I am so far behind. More later :)

Colors of fall

2008-10-12T20:55:00.009-05:00

I went to mom's house to water today, and got some pictures of a few of the things in her gardens that are turning colors. I can't remember what the name of this is, but it is pretty. Purple/blue berries that last till late in winter.

This is an Elkhorn Sumac. It's not much to look at in spring or summer, but it really turns on the color in fall.

This is a variegated dogwood tree. In summer the leaves are greens and yellow. It turns a vivid red in fall, along with the seeds. Very pretty!

I think fall is my favorite season. The colors are so vivid, and when the trees turn the hills look like they are on fire. The trees should start turning soon....

Here are a few pictures of the plants in my garden. I love the blanket flower. My favorite colors!

Japanese Maple and wild grapevine!

Jalapenos - HOT!

Purple Petunias. They smell sooo good!

Another face

2008-10-10T23:16:00.004-05:00

I know you all think I am a loon...and you're correct! I spent some time at the barn the other day looking at all the trees that are destined to fall across my paddock fence and cause me to have eight coronaries. There are some very interesting things on them (if you are a loon, and interested in that sort of thing). My mother always swore that I talked to fairies as a little kid. I don't know about that, but I certainly see things -in other things- that most people would never notice.

On this particular outing, I found a bunch of creepy-cool fungus. Fungus faces to be exact. I think this one looks like a viking, or a samurai warrior...or something.

Here is the other side. Looks like a witch to me.

This is the front. Just weird.

This is weird too. There is actually grass growing out of a knothole that is about nine feet above the ground.

And here is the resident impossibly huge grasshopper. They give me the creeps and this sucker was a good three inches long. Erk!

heavy horses

2008-10-06T21:36:00.006-05:00

We went to the fair Saturday. The only reason we go is to watch the heavy horses pull. These are the big ones. The horses that weigh almost a ton...each. I have watched, and participated in various horse activities for a lot of years. I've watched horses clear six foot tall jumps, spin, cut cattle, race, pull little fat men in carts, and pace on sounding boards. I can honestly say that nothing is as good as watching a pair of massive horses work as a team to pull ten *thousand* pounds on a sled in a dirt arena.

We have gone to the fair to watch them for several years now, and we have our favorites. We like to cheer them on, but we have to do it quietly. The horses listen to their teamsters for directions. When they are pulling, if the crowd says ohhh, they hear *whoa*, so any cheering is discouraged until they are unhooked from the sled. The men who place the singletree are pretty brave. Think about a team of horses that weighs close to four thousand pounds, dancing in anticipation, eagerly waiting for the signal to pull. Now imagine placing the singletree ring on the sled, and hoping you get your hands free before they start pulling! Sometimes the horses anticipate, and pull before the singletree is set. This is both dangerous and highly entertaining. More than one teamster has done a less than graceful face plant in the arena! In anticipation of the pull, these giant horses piaff well enough to make any dressage queen drool. It is fascinating to watch. The best of them wait for their driver to give the signal, trotting in place, then throwing their massive chests into the harness. The less restrained will pull as soon as they hear the singletree drop. It can be very exciting if the guys holding it accidentally drop it!

I admire the people who train and care for these beautiful animals. They are such gentle giants. You can tell that their people also admire and love them. When the going gets tough, and they need more than one pull to make the distance, you can watch while they talk to the horses, calming and encouraging them. It is easy to see that they are very important to the people who care for them. I have seldom seen such devotion in other horse endeavors. These folks groom and tack their own horses. They fasten the harness and shine the flashy silver themselves. They truly love their horses.

Here are some pictures...

This is the dangerous part - placing the singletree. You could easily lose a hand if the horses pulled at the wrong time. The boy in the red shirt has finally gotten big enough to help. Last year he was still loading the sled.

This team is mixed - one mare, and one gelding.

This is what they do between rounds. Napping is permitted.

What a way to earn your oats, eh? Notice all the people sitting against the wall? They are totally relaxed, and not worried that they might be mowed down by these enormous horses. I don't know if I'd want to sit there....

Are we finished yet? Can we go? Whoever said horses can't read?

It takes a lot of heart and want to to pull ten *thousand* pounds.

Pudgy Ponies Prance Ponderously

2008-10-06T20:51:00.003-05:00

Translation: Fat assed horses run from bot flies. I did not think that moose could jump, but apparently they can. See below for proof. Note all four feet are off the ground. Simply amazing!

Even pretty Susie can get all her feet going pretty quick when the bot flies are buzzing. Poor girl hates them!

Life is not fair

2008-09-29T21:15:00.003-05:00

As an adult, I know that life is not fair. I accept that, because I have no other choice, but that doesn't mean that I have to like it.

We are working on remodeling a pool deck. It is a complicated job, but we will get it done eventually. The folks we are working for are long time friends of the family. They are very nice people. They helped my father in law when he was starting out his concrete business, making work for him so he could feed his family. Bill's parents used to square dance with them. They are just downhome, real folks. The life is unfair part is that the husband was recently diagnosed with what the doctor told them was called "The Terminator". He has a brain tumor. It is inoperable. They flew to California last week to see another surgeon, hoping beyond hope for a different diagnosis. Unfortunately there was no good news for them. Damn.

We went through this with Bill's father. We watched as he declined, all the while determined to beat the disease that finally took his life. It was the most horrible thing I have ever experienced. I am a take charge kind of person, who fixes things. Being unable to do anything to help my father in law was incredibly difficult. Watching my mother in law suffer the anguish of a wife unable to save her husband was beyond painful.

Now, every day when we go to the job, here is this lovely lady whose husband is going to die. I see it written on her face. She is trying to be brave, and she is doing a fine job, but I can see it nonetheless. She is terrified. What can you say to someone who is going to lose the love of their life in such a hideous and painful way? They have been married for nearly fifty years. She will be lost. It is horribly depressing for everyone. The only bit of advice I could offer wasn't very good. I told her that at least they knew, and they had the chance to spend that time together, and love each other.

If life were fair, some murderer would have this awful tumor, and die a slow painful death. But life is not fair. I really hate this. All we can do is do the best we can on their pool deck, and hope that it gives him some enjoyment.

Life is not fair....

Passion redux

2008-09-22T11:50:00.010-05:00

I wasn't sure that the non hardy passion flower would bloom this year. It had been somewhat neglected since mom passed away. We were careful to water it, and put it on the east side of the shop so it would get gentle sun. About two weeks ago, it sprouted a tiny bud. I was very excited. I have been watching it carefully since them. Today it bloomed! It went from barely showing color to fully opened within 2 hours. Simply amazing. The flowers only last a single day, so you have to be quick if you want a picture. What a beautiful and strange flower. Here is a progression from bud to flower. I think this will be the only flower for this plant this year. I can't find any other buds. Maybe next year it will be more generous.

Here is the other type. The differences are striking.

And here they are together. Similar, yet beautifully different.

New driveway phase III

2008-09-18T09:20:00.036-05:00

Well, for better or worse, it is finally finished. I hate to break my arm patting myself on the back, but we did a great job on this. I am so pleased with it. I only wish that it was the driveway on my (future) new house, instead of the one we are going to sell the first chance we get.

Here are a bunch of before and after shots. First is the cantilever edge on the front porch, stamped and then with stain. This is made so that it looks like stones were laid on the edge of the porch. There is actually a lip that sticks out. It is hard for me to get a good picture.

This is the sidewalk up to the front porch, stained, during sealing and then completed. The sealer makes a huge difference in the appearance.
Here are more before and after pictures

Closeup details
And finally, the whole thing. We have been told this is called "curb appeal". Hopefully it will make someone just have to own this house. I can't wait to get out of this neighborhood.

Pop quiz

2008-09-18T09:20:00.035-05:00

Concrete or rock? You tell me. Click on the pictures for a closer view. (A hint here...some of the pictures are of real rocks baked and surfaced courtesy of Mother Earth. The others are stamped concrete, courtesy of Moi. I thought it was clearly self explainatory, but I guess not. If you still don't get it, I can't make it any more simple...sorry!) I admit it is not easy. I managed to fool Bill, and he's no fool!

I love dogs

2008-09-18T09:20:00.022-05:00

The dogs love to come to the office with us. There is pandemonium every morning at our house. As it gets closer to the time we leave for the office, they get more and more wound up. As we are picking up the things we need to take with us they are streaking back and forth between us and the front door. If it's a day they get to go, they jump up and down at the door. If it isn't, they pull the saddest faces you can imagine. Poor doggies! So abused. HA!

Today they got to come to the office. On the way, I saw a strange creature run out into the street. Mind you, this is a city. There are apartments, houses, businesses...paved roads... I was about two blocks away, but I could tell that the creature moved strangely. It had very long legs and was bounding like a small deer. Hmmm. Maybe someone had an exotic mini deer of some sort that got out. As I got closer, the animal had stopped in the middle of the road and was looking back and forth. I was close enough to see it now. It was a red fox. Monkey saw it too, and determined in what passes for a brain, that it must die - NOW! He flung himself out the window opening barking viciously. Fortunately for us all, he wears a riding harness that is buckled to the seat belt. Of course his cheerleader was egging him on, even though she didn't have the slightest idea of what she was barking at. She is too short to see out of the truck. We made it to the shop without any further trouble :)

The were went outside with me while I took pictures of the man eating passion flower buds. Monkey thinks that he owns the world. The world includes the boarding kennel across the street. He always tells people to move along. They never listen.

Here he is sneaking up on the people across the street. Did I mention how silly he is?

Monkey is such a fun dog. He loves to run and bark. He is so willing to learn, and he loves his people. What a pleasure he is.

How sad is this? He hates going back inside. He does it because we ask him to, but that doesn't mean he has to like it :(

My mother in law's dog comes to the office every day. She is a Jack Russel Terrorist, er terrier. Her name is Emmalina, Emmy for short. I call her Stinky Butt because she has a 'tude. She is a law unto herself. She doesn't mind very well mostly. She will mind me, but that is because I demand it. Otherwise, she mostly ignores people. It is amusing. This is Emmalina. She is a very intense little dog. She has issues ;) She and Rosie love each other. It's all good. They have an understanding and it works for them.

Here is the queen. She is my girl. I love her face. She had an eye doc appointment yesterday. He is pleased with her continuing progress, and we don't have to bring her back for three months. Her meds for the ulcerated eye have been cut back to once a day! YAY! She is definitely, for all her small stature, a bulldog. If you push, she pushes back...harder. If you ask, and she feels like it, she might do it. She does come when we call her, and she doesn't wander, so I am content to leave her be. I love her the way she is.

Here are all of them together. They mostly get along. When there is an issue, it is almost always because Blondie is guarding her goodie pile. She will actually bring a goodie with her so that she has something to guard. Fortunately she cannot bite, so we don't get too excited about it.

I love my dogs. They make life worth living....

Little shop of horrors

2008-09-18T09:20:00.014-05:00

Anyone remember that movie? I have two different passion flower vines that are ready to bloom. The buds are just weird. Of course the flowers are weird too, but the buds are pretty strange. They remind me of the pods that the pod people came out of, only smaller. I can't wait for the potted one to bloom. I was afraid that it was going to die, but it has rallied well, and should bloom today or tomorrow. It is different than the purple one I showed earlier.

Kim's art

2008-09-18T09:20:00.011-05:00

I mentioned that my sister Kim is an artist. I know I am biased, but I think she is very talented. She made me a couple of pictures of Baxter...with glass! They are so awesome. I emailed her some pictures, and she transformed them into glass. Here is the first one.

She is not a horse person really. She likes them, but she has not lived and breathed horses like I have. I was so pleased when I got them. I would love to see what she could do with paint. Glass has to be a harder medium I'd think, of course I have no way of knowing. All I know about working with molten glass is that I'd likely burn the shit out of myself and end up with a tragic mess.

Here is the second one. I love them both, but I think I like this one best.

I am working up to twisting her arm for a portrait of Susie. I must have at least a face with those infamous ears. I need to think up a good bribe :-)

What is up with this?

2008-09-17T20:21:00.017-05:00

I got a butt ton of comments on my pop quiz post. They were all nonsense, so I deleted them. It made me wonder why all the attention all the sudden. I checked my site meter and had i dunno, several hundred(?) visitors today? Well color me surprised. Wonder what's up with that? Did someone post it somewhere or what? Maybe some bot picked it up or something... I dunno. It's weird though.

AND it posted itself out of order... something is stinky here.....

For the record.

2008-09-17T20:21:00.015-05:00

My horses are not pets. They are livestock. Property. Chattels. They are no better than any other farm animal. I can legally sell them, or humanely shoot them in the head. Pets are animals that live in my house, and are able to sit in my lap. Horses are not pets. They are not adopted children, nor are they national treasures. They are big dangerous animals. They can kill you by accident with the flick of a hoof. I love my horses, but they are not pets. I believe that we should have the option of slaughter for horses that are not useful. I do not believe that anyone should be able to tell me what I can do with my property. All of the people out there who believe that horses are just big fuzzy children should be required to own at least one of the horses that have been abandoned, starved, or abused.

There are animal "rights" organizations that are working dilligently to strip us of our rights to own horses (or any other animal for that matter). If they get their way, horses will be deemed pets. Closing down the slaughterhouses was only the tip of the iceberg.

Horses are livestock. Just sayin'.

Our new driveway...phase II

2008-09-17T20:21:00.012-05:00

Today our driveway was aged enough for us to begin the staining of the block borders. We were using chemical stains, which require the concrete to be at least 28 days old, but we cheated by a few days. We had time between jobs, so it was today, or wait another month at least. The concrete was uncolored, but stamped with a walnut release, so that influenced the outcome a bit. We used 5 different colors of stain, 4 brown shades and a green tone.

While Bill was putting the mini walls in the flower bed, I stained the individual stones on the borders. This sounds very easy, but it is easy to mess up. You want the effect to be random, so you have to do one color at a time, and sort of bop around here and there. You have to be careful not to do too many stones, with one color and also to not create a pattern with the stain. Here are some pictures of before and after the stain.

After you have stained all the individual stones, the other "background" stones have to be stained too. Depending on the effect desired, there are several ways to do this. The easiest way is to just go with the flow, and not be too uptight about the individual stones getting the background color on them. This is the way we did it. Here is a picture of the background stain.

Here is another picture but this is after the stain has been washed off. This simulates what it will look like after it has been sealed. It was dark when I took these pictures, so the flash has made it a little hotter than it will be in real life, but you can get an idea.

I love chemical stains. It is a great process that can give some very interesting colors and effects on concrete.

This has nothing to do with our driveway, but I was reading some comments on another blog in reference to stamped concrete. The ignorant person who left the comment that stamped concrete was ugly, because it *looked* like stamped concrete has obviously never seen good stampwork. We are doing an add on project for a customer. We did his old patio and porches about twelve years ago. He is was so pleased with it that he called us back to match the old parts. He too great pride in telling us the story of his many guests that actually argued with him, telling him that there was no way our work was concrete, and that it was the best slate job they had ever seen. He was so smug that he didn't even bother to inform them of their error. The Patterned Concrete name stamp should have given it away....

Stampmonkey Corner

Is it good... or is it bad?

Three years... and a month

Fat Boy has a Sofa Back!

Goodbye Headaches, Heartburn, and the Desire to Choke the Living Crap out of Someone

I have a secret.

My little pony...not.

What would you do?

I really want to beat someone....

We are having a wobbler!

There's a Light....

RIP Blondie - Queen of the World March 2010

You know...

Water...water *everywhere*

Oh really...Really??

Andamooka, Yowah and Koroit opals

Baltic Amber for sale

Finally

Hee hee! hahahahaha

Probate... it ain't for sissies

As the windmill turns...

There's a pineapple waiting in Hell for my realtor

What sucks?

Anxiety

Job update

Hand update

Politically incorrect...

Owwww!!

Great... just great.

Progress

I am STILL not Imelda Marcos

Satan invented fiber one bars

Seeing Double

The Broken Arrow Performing Arts Center

Monkey wrangler!

Barrel Killer

Truck trees

I found one!

Ahhhhhhhhhhh!

Prisoner X abandons Prisoner Y

Big Boys Don't Wear Lipstick in PUBLIC!!

Prisoner Y Has a Problem

Harumph!

Hooray!

Contemplating my navel

The question is...

The mail came

Frozen Farriers

The best farriers on earth

Ho ho...no!

I am not Imelda Marcos

Sleet, I still hates it...

Animal rights?

Hot water, no NCA

Sleet, I hates it

Fowl doings

Hot water and 1% NCA

Elf Yourself!

I hate developers

Shoe report

Optimism abounds...cautiously

Little Monsters

Shoe report

Muppet Wave

Drift Into Overdrive

Dancing in the dark

The Chaps

Bricks and slate

sick and tired

Big job update

Well hell.

Gloom, Despair, and Agony on ME!

new pics

Mr. Steffawn....Fabulous!

The shoe fairy came!!!

Black cats are bad luck.

Houdini

Does anyone care....

Interesting

Some people should not own horses.

Water...water everywhere

Life is not fair