Dumped

A couple of weeks ago, I came home to some tire tracks in my yard. My first thought was that I was glad my little tree I had just planted was safe, and my second thought was how mad I would have been had they run over the tree.

Then curiousity set in. Why would someone drive up over there? It was on the south lawn, so too far from the house to be someone helping my uncle with the roof. I just couldn't figure out why someone would drive up over there.

Then it hit me--the tracks didn't go anywhere. They went straight to the tree row and then back to the highway.

Someone had pulled up off the highway to dump something. Nice.

When I lived in Missouri it had been a dead calf, but I knew many of the people who raised cattle around here. It would be highly unusual for someone to dump a calf in this area. Everyone knows everyone else.

So, I crept up to the place where the tracks led, dreading what I might find. From afar I could see it was white and fuzzy.

A closer look revealed a deceased cat which appeared to be part Siamese, cause of death unknown.

Now, why would someone dump off a cat not only in a tree row, but practically in someone's yard? There are so many other places to put a cat I just couldn't figure it out.

I went ahead and buried the poor thing. The only conclusion I could come to was that they saw the barn and perhaps the poor cat was at least partially alive. Unable to care for it, they placed it where it could see the barn, hoping it would crawl off there and die. Fortunately for my two barn kitties, it didn't make it.

Needless to say, a perimeter fence with a locked gate just moved up a few notches on my farm improvement list.


Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you might find when you get home,

This is Why

This is why I usually can't get good pictures of my horses. As soon as they see me, they do this...

...and I end up with this.

I'm ready for my close-up,

A Busy, Wonderful, Long Weekend

I'm sitting here on this Sunday evening, studying up on hanging drywall and in between video clips, reminiscing about the past four days.

They've been wonderful days, too, filled with fun, friends, family...

and flowers.

Or soon-to-be flowers, that is. I planted probably a tenth of the total iris bulbs my sister-in-law gave me. I also planted all of the walking onions she included.

These are pretty interesting plants. I planted them right by the pump house, and planted a batch of irises right in front of them. I figure they will add some interest to the south-facing side of that building!

Wednesday evening (I think) I also finished several ads for Darlene, advertising her outstanding stallion (and my own Moose's daddy) Almighty.

I'm still learning, but improving, I think.....

After my dad and I got back from having Thanksgiving dinner with my sister and her boyfriend in Kansas City, I saddled up Paula and we had a great lesson, which also happened yesterday, along with doing some more groundwork with Bambi and Fabian. Fabian is ready to drive soon and Bambi is almost there.

Paula has been working exclusively in her bit (which is required when showing breed shows) and she's doing wonderfully. I had planned on doing a video of today's ride but the wind was so bad there was no way it would have stayed on anything out there. We'll have to try for later.

I did plan on working with Moose as well, but he was a butthead. Hey, it happens, and it especially happens with weanling colts, so I put him to work and then put him up. We'll try that again later as well.

Today, despite the wind, I still got a few things done outside. Dad came out and we finished the little bit we needed to do to get the electrical lines we ran outside ready for the electrician to hook up.

Thankfully we won't be digging lines again for a while! We hung up the lights and finished filling in the line. I also cleaned a lot more brush out of this jungle.

Going back to Friday, I also bought a washer that was on sale and way too good of a deal to pass up. I wasn't ready for it yet, but I got it anyway, which gives us a good excuse TO get ready for it.

Hence, the reason I am spending my Sunday night learning about hanging drywall....

Rock'n the house one room at a time,

Thankful

A year ago, my family and friends helped me move from Missouri back to Kansas.

Since that time, life has improved significantly for me, and I'm very thankful for everything that has happened to allow me to reach this place in my life.

I'm thankful for the farmstead that I've been allowed to take over.

I'm thankful for all the improvements being made on my house.

I'm thankful for having 3 wonderful siblings (and a fabulous in-law) whose love and support encourages me everyday.

I am thankful I got to say goodbye to Eddie, and spend several months with him before he passed.

I am thankful to now have his son, who came to me right after his sire's death and reminds me of him everyday.

I am thankful for his daughter Paula who, like Eddie, seems to always know what's in my soul.

I'm thankful for his other daughter Bambi, who has his playful spirit.

I'm thankful for the opportunity to own his first grandbaby.

I'm thankful for the opportunity to own an incredible foal of a stallion I've believed in for a very long time.

I'm thankful to have found wonderful homes for these special girls.

I'm thankful for all of my Dad's help in getting the farm from looking like this

to this.

I'm thankful for being able to be with the best farm dog ever in her final moments.

I'm thankful that Charlie and Harley are still going strong at 12 years old, and I'm thankful for constant source of humor Sophie provides, even if it is at Charlie's expense.

I'm thankful for my parents' help, love, and support, for all my wonderful friends, for my friend Darlene who has always given me the step up when I could never quite reach what I needed, and for so much more.

I could go on and on about how fortunate I feel to have such a blessed life. I'm having a hard time finding the words to express how I feel, so I'll just simply say...

thank you.

Happy Thanksgiving!!

I'm so very thankful for all the blessings in my life, for all my wonderful friends and family, and for all the opportunities of the past, present and future. Much love to you all and I hope everyone has a wonderful day.

Getting There

The first time I visited Colorado this year, we had a bit of a difficult time finding the Denver Art Museum.

First, I had the wrong destination, period. I was convinced that the King Tut Exhibition was at the Museum of Natural History. Every other Egyptian exhibit had been there, so why wasn't this one?

Oh, I was wrong. I insisted I was right, but I was proven wrong. So, I swallowed my pride and looked up the DAM (Denver Art Museum) and decided it was relatively easy to get to.

Wrong again.

Problem was, there was a big college game going on in downtown Denver that day as well, and they closed the main road I was depending on. So, one detour led to another and then another, and before we knew it, we were traveling away from downtown Denver. Not good.

So, once we figured out where the heck we were, we decided to treat ourselves to lunch at Casa Bonita.

If you haven't ever been, it's a very large Mexican restaurant with live entertainment--including divers!

They jump off into a waterfall when they do their show. Their show also includes a man in a gorilla suit that used to scare Christopher (as in, he would scream at the top of his lungs).

The dork is all grown up now, so he's more interested in what's on his plate than the guy in the gorilla suit.

He may be all grown up, but he's still a dork.

Here's the route we took to get to the museum:

Actually, this was part of an installion piece in the museum, but once we got there, it brought back some not-to-fond recent memories.

Then they had an ex-husband exhibit:

That's not really what it was called, but it was the only way I could relate to these pieces.

Always finding my way out of sticky situations,

Look Before You...Go

Twas the night before a workday, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring...except for a bull snake...

in the toilet bowl...

trying to make his way into the house.

This is why, when you live in the country, you always turn on the light to use the toilet in the middle of the night.

You never know who you might run into.....

Bingham Hill Cemetary

During my first trip to Colorado earlier this year, my mom took me on a really nice drive through a part of the front range I hadn't seen before. We had hearty lunch at an interesting venue, and on the way back, we stopped by this old pioneer cemetary.

Bingham Hill Cemetary was established in the 1860's, but had apparently been "lost" for several decades before being recently restored, in part, thanks to a book written by Rose L Brinks.

This is the beautiful walkway leading through the gate and up the hill to where the cemetary sits.

Supposedly the cemetary is haunted and is listed on several paranormal sites. There are claims of hearing babies crying, seeing women in mourning, and of visitors feeling cold spots and hands on their shoulders.

I didn't experience anything like that, but I can see why so many people are "haunted" by their visit here. Graves of children and young mothers fill the cemetary. It is a sad place that tells the story of the many hardships and struggles of frontier life.

There are several crude, hand-marked headstones,

and more than a few family plots where several young siblings are buried near one another.

Vandals and time have also made their mark.

There are many nicely carved headstones that have survived as well.

Some of the older, broken stones have been replaced.

Some of the carvings are hauntingly beautiful,

while others are almost worn away.

A few of the graves no long have a headstone at all,

and some of the headstones are quite elaborate.

The Provost family plot that housed several somber headstones.

Poor little Mary Provost didn't make it to her 11th birthday.

Julila Dennis died January 21, 1873...

...and her son, John E Dennis, born the day she died, is buried right beside her. He was only nine months old when he joined his mother.

Barbara Bingham was 19 years old when she died. One has to wonder what she endured in her short life.

And here, Jennie Brown. She had her own plot, with her own fencing, and even some recently-laid flowers decorating her grave. I had to wonder who Jennie was, and who she is to people today?

I've visited many cemetaries, but few have left such an impression on me--such a yearning to know more about the people buried here.

Although I'll probably never know the answers to all my questions about this cemetary, what I do know is it is a beautiful and peaceful place. The landscape, the mountains, the cool breeze even in the heat of summer hopefully gave some sense of comfort to the people who laid their loved ones to rest on this hillside.