Welcome To My Life, Ed. 1, Vol. III

I forgot to put deodorant on today.

Yep, I sure did. Cowboy H got into the bathroom before me and it messed up my whole morning routine. In the morning, before my coffee has kicked in, I function purely by muscle memory. Actually, I can barely function, but since I have a specific routine, I manage. So this morning, right as I was getting ready to put my contacts in, get dressed and brush my teeth (in that particular order), Cowboy H beat me to the bathroom. To not waste time I got dressed, which was most definitely out of order. But the deodorant was in the bathroom. So I told myself to put it on when I brushed my teeth. Which would have been out of order. And, of course, as soon as I was able to get into the bathroom, muscle memory kicked in and I forgot the deodorant.

At least I remembered to put my contacts in.

And at least I remembered pants.

Good thing I'm not going to the gym tonight.

Monday Motivation

In light of the fact that I actually went to the gym twice last week, I'm starting a themed day; Monday Motivation. From now on, each Monday I will post 5 things that I MUST get done that week. Then on Friday, or Saturday, or Sunday (basically which ever day I get enough done to make it presentable) I will update on my success or failure. The list is going to be a catch-all; anything from purging my underwear drawer to painting the living room may be listed.

Also, I want to hear what you have on your to-do list each week. Come on, just throw it out there. We all have those menial errands or looming tasks that we're whole-heartedly trying to avoid. Maybe by putting them out there in the blogosphere, you'll be extra motivated!

Monday Motivation, Week 1

1. Make the dang bracelets (I will tell you more when they're done, but there are 8 total)
2. Finish editing the Yosemite photos
3. Create discs of all the Yosemite photos and mail them to the participating parties
4. Buy those sticky strips for the corners of the new couches
5. Tell you about the new couches!

Maybe I should make the list 10 things...

(Sigh) Well, now that I've written it down, I feel accountable. Let's see if that feeling lasts past when I click the 'Publish Post' button!

'Til The Cows Come Home

... Or you have to go out, find them and make them come home.

In November 2008 there was a large fire in Southern California. I believe it was dubbed the Yorba Fire. This fire burned very close to our home and much closer to our horses' home. In fact, it burned in our horses' home. After devouring the State Park that we sometimes ride in, the fire ate its way through our fences and petered out while burning our heavily grazed cow pastures. No structures or animals were damaged, injured, etc. but all the cows got out and it took several months to get all the fences rebuilt. Once they were repaired (or so we thought) it was time for a Cattle Drive!

After gearing up, we headed out. There were five of us total, plus one of the dogs. Armed with our radios we split into two groups with a kinda-sorta idea of where the cattle were. It was a beautiful day!

Look! We spot cattle, but only about 1/3 of the known missing.

We tried to contact the other group, but our radios failed miserably so Cowboy H ran up a big hill to see if he could get a visual. After that failed, the third member of our group headed off to find the other group while Cowboy H and I headed down a gully to see if we could find the rest of the herd.

It was rough riding for a bit (Bella went nearly belly-deep in a mud hole; Maria slammed us into a tree) but Cowboy H and I managed to get the whole herd moving in the right direction.

Eventually, the others found us and flanked the herd to keep them from turning and running back down the hill.

For a while there, we pushed the cows easily. They calmly followed the cow trail up the hill and towards the open gate to Heaven's Ranch. Once they got to the top of the hill though, they started to bunch up and a few broke the herd.

Those few eventually took the remaining stragglers down the hill along the fence-line, but on the wrong side of the fence-line. However, we didn't have to worry for long, because they made their own gate and let themselves in on their own accord.

So, even though it wasn't all according to our plan, all the cows made it back to Heaven's Ranch.

Lastly, we had to push them through the cow pasture and into the sorting pens so names could be taken.

And believe me, names were taken. Especially after that runaway stunt.

Another Day In The Life...

I know, I know. Another picture-less post. I really don't like posting without pictures, but sometimes things happen that I want to share, to fill you in on, and pictures just don't get taken. But, I'm trying to keep the wording as minimal as possible.

Last night after a lovely park adventure with the dogs, we found a bleeding cat at home. It wasn't gushing blood or anything, but it definitely was a fresh wound. On a white cat. So it stuck out like a sore thumb.

Cowboy H, as wonderful, loving and caring as he is, helped me expose the wound and clean it up. I did the holding, since I know how to properly hold a pissed off cat while someone is pouring Hydrogen Peroxide into its fresh wound. What we discovered was a single, medium sized hole.

So, now we are trying to figure out what caused the hole. (It's definitely not a puncture wound.) There is the possibility that another cat hooked my Indy with one claw, right as Indy was starting to run away, and the one claw pulled the skin a little, leaving a larger than normal hole. The other possibility is that yet another one of my cats was the victim of an idiot with a bee-bee or pellet gun. We can't feel anything under Indy's skin near the wound, but the hole is about the right size.

In the mean time, we now have a holy cat.

A lead head and a holy cat.

The Homestead is becoming an interesting place...

The Welcome To My Life Series

I think I'm going to make this a series. The "Welcome To My Life" series. So you all can the mess I am on a daily basis. On the surface, things look pretty good at The Homestead. But in reality, its chaos. Mostly because I'm a mess. There's a reason my dad nicknamed me Jess the Mess when I was a toddler. And there's a reason it stuck.

Welcome to My Life, Ed. 1, Vol. II

Sunday morning, Cowboy H and I got to stay in bed together until 8:30 am! It was glorious. Of course, I had to get up at 2:30 am to let the cat in, and again at 6:30 am to let the dogs out, but still.

Cowboy H made it to the kitchen before I did, and started the coffee. (I love that man.) I pulled on some sweats and shuffled in with bare feet a few minutes later. Entering the kitchen, I went around the left side of the kitchen island into the space between the fridge and island and turned to my right. At this point I was facing the kitchen/dining area that was on my right side when I walked in. The side I hadn't bothered to look at.

"Ah, shit."

And there it was. A pile of shit on the floor. Ugh. Guess the dogs were trying to tell me something when they were running up and down the hallway at 6:00.

So, I clean it up. And I haven't even had coffee yet.

Cowboy H makes himself a bowl of cereal and sits down at the kitchen table. Conveniently, he sits down on the right side of the table, away from where the poop-poo was. I make my way to the opposite side of the table to sit across from him.

"Ughhghhghghghghg."

"What?"

"Uuughghghhhh. Get some paper towels."

Yes, the dogs had left us not only poop, but pee. Pee which was deftly hidden under the kitchen table. Pee which I discovered with my bare foot. Pee which I had to clean up before I even poured myself a cup of coffee.

"I HAVEN'T EVEN HAD ANY COFFEE YET!"

Welcome to my life. Anyone want to trade?

Even just for a day??

And She's Gone...

My lovely sister-in-law moved back to Missouri this weekend. I was so sad to see her go. Things weren't quite working out; the timing wasn't quite right. I hope will be for the best. But man I'm going to miss her.

Now, I have no one to bake with or go to Farmers' Market with. I have to fold laundry and watch TV alone again. And worst of all, I have to start doing dishes again.

Tiffany, are you listening? Please come back. My sink is suffering.

Hi.

I'm still alive, I promise. I returned to California Saturday after one too many days in Albuquerque (5 1/2 to be exact) and found my state burning down. But, I'm pretty used to that by now. What I'm not used to is landing practice. Let me share with you:

We were cruising along in our jet when the stewardess (do they still call them that?) announces that we are approaching Ontario Airport. Excited to be almost home I start trying to identify things below through my window. The Speedway, the 15 Freeway, the 10 Freeway: all mean home to me.

Suddenly, we started descending very fast. I'm talking, we were nosediving. I felt my head press back against my seat we were going down so fast. Then, we flattened out. Ok, breathe.

Then we start accelerating. And gaining elevation. Wait! We're supposed to be landing! My house is down there. My bed. My husband. My gabillion animals.

Then the pilot gets on the intercom and casually says "Sorry about that folks. We were coming down just a little too fast and steep there. It was going to be unsafe to land. We're going to circle around and try it again."

Just think about it folks. "Try it again."

Its not like he was supposed to be landing a plane or anything.