Presents

Okay, before I bump it down, I have to be sure that I call your attention to my previous post about my kids seeing my blog. Help me out!

I am pretty lucky in that my birthday usually falls on the Memorial Day weekend. When I was younger, I was a baton twirler, and I usually led the parades in my hometown. I always joked that I led a parade in my honor, as many times Memorial day fell on my birthday.

But I digress.

So I celebrate my birthday weekend. My dad is never very good at remembering birthdays. Well, let me say that he has always called me on my day, and never actually forgotten the day. But he's not a big birthday advance planner (sound familiar?). So the day gets here and he is always apologizing all over the place because he hasn't sent me a card or gotten me anything. And I really don't care.

In fact, I really don't care if people remember late. It's not about hating my birthday, it's more about dragging out the celebrations! If you get all your presents on one day, then the next day is a little weak, right? So if you get your presents spread over a few days, you get a new toy, and then when the shiny wears off, you get another one!

I didn't get toys, but this year was the year for flowers. First, B got me these:


(and this was taken today-- they are just stunning, the calla lilies smell as good as a baby!)

And yesterday my friend Jen came over and brought me these:



And today, my boys went for a walk down by the creek and L brought me back a bouquet of tiny purple flowers. I don't have a picture because the cats immediately knocked the bouquet over and scattered them everywhere. But it was a wonderful gesture-- he woke me up from my nap (which should have been over anyway) with a bouquet of flowers he had just picked. : )

And later I saw this guy on my back step. (An Eastern Meadowlark)



I gave Major a bath today, he was damp when I put him in his stall. I will be sure to take a picture of him when he is dry, I hope he is really slick, black and noticeably clean. I am sure he will immediately find his way to the dirt pile for a good roll when he is next out in the pasture.

I can't remember a day this good in so long. Happy Monday, Happy Birthday, and Happy Memorial Day.

Help Me Out

(Yeah, they have been there, though I don't think they'v spent much time there. L has asked me questions about things I wrote...)

The Day After

I had a great birthday. Thanks for all of your birthday notes!

B gave me a really beautiful bouquet of flowers, it is really pretty. It loads of flowers, but I especially love the calla lilies-- they smell heavenly.

We did try some stargazing, and it was magnificient. However, after about 10 minutes, Bubba's dogs started barking. That in itself was not the end of the world, but then he came out and started shouting at them to get back inside (yes, you can hear all of this as it echoes through the valley in which we live). When they wouldn't come in, he got in his truck and proceeded to drive all around to get them back in. After about 15 minutes, I was so irritated with the dogs' barking, his headlights flashing on my house, on me, all around, and then finally something caused the motion light to go on. I'd had enough, so we went inside.

I did see a satellite in that small time period, and a bazillion stars. : )

P.S. Bubba is not his real name. It's just a name that, for me, conjures up an appropriate image of the man behind the name.

Happy Birthday to Me

I'm 29.

Again. : )

B didn't want to stargaze with me last night-- the stars were spectacular, and no moon! Maybe tonight. I'll report back on how many satellites we see!

A Long Way

I can't imagine having so much distance between my nose and my eyes. It's a long way up there.

Scooby Stallion

Remember when you were little and you watched Scooby Doo (I think it's still on, even)? One part that I always thought was funny was that part when they would be in the haunted house and they would walk by the spooky old portrait, and the eyes would move and watch them walk by. Like someone was behind the wall, looking through the painting with the eyes cut out!

Well, we have something similar at our farm. The spooky stallion stands in his stall, and he has a boarded up window in his stall. The board must have had a knot in it, and the knot deteriorated, and so there is this hole. He puts his eye up to the hole to watch the horses outside (he can't be outside in the pasture with Cleo). You can just see this big brown eye looking out, with some hair over it.



So I go outside to take his picture. Of course, it took forever for me to get him to do it, and even then, his eye isn't up close to the hole. But he is extra-willing to stick his nose out of the hole:



Then, as I am making this fuss about "something," the other horses notice, and they come up to see what is going on. Pecos had to stick his nose into the situation:



The situation went downhill from there. : )

Isn't this a great picture of Don Pecos' eye? You can see into his soul.



A neat picture of Cleo and Pecos just dozing and hanging out together:


Cleo has this fascination with toes. She had never really seen toes, because most people who come into the barn are wearing boots or sturdy shoes. Well, at my house, there have been occassions where I have had to run into the barn on my way to somewhere. I recall the first time, I ran out there in black strappy sandals, we were on our way to a wedding. She put her nose down (she could see my toes under her stall wall) and was like, "Oh, my goodness! You don't have a hoof! What are those goofy, wiggly things??? Ever since then she has been really fascinated with shoes and toes. So today I had on some garden slip on shoes, since I was just running out to take a photo (yeah, right). She was investigating my shoes, and I slipped my shoe off and wiggled my toes at her:



Now off to stargaze in the hammock.

Afleet Alex

Did you watch the Preakness? It was amazing! We were rooting for Afleet Alex. I was happy when Giacomo won the Kentucky Derby, just because he was a longshot and nobody thought he could do it. But for the Preakness, I wanted Afleet Alex to win. His name is Alex, named after the owners’ kids. Between them they have several kids named Alex. There are 5 owners, just “regular” people, who pooled their money and bough Alex for $75,000. What an investment!

And the best thing of all is that some of the money that Alex wins goes to help Alex’s Lemonade Stand. If you don’t know what that is, visit this site, you’ll be amazed. Plus, you’ll root for Afleet Alex at the Belmont!

We bought some Alex t-shirts, too. : )

Starry Eyed

For the last two nights B & I have gone out and enjoyed the night sky from the hammock. It is so fun! We can see so much, although while we truly enjoyed the magnificent harvest moon last night, it proved to be quite bright and a hindrance to some of the dimmer stars. But we saw 6 satellites last night!

I looked them up on www.heavens-above.com and found out that we saw the Tropical Rainfall Monitoring Mission Satellite, and the Cosmos 1263 rocket (which B dismissed as “space junk”).
I think I am turning into a geek.

Anyway, it has been quite fun, and we have not suffered any effects of mosquitoes or any other wildlife, though we do hear things sneaking around in the trees and the coyotes in the pastures.

I have also used the hammock to turn dreaded tasks into more pleasant ones! : ) I didn’t mind working on a RFP for work this weekend nearly as much, when I took my laptop out to the hammock! However, I can’t get a wireless signal from its current location, so no blog-ability.

It is a big one, so the whole family can fit in it. The kids and I have had fun chilling out together.

It was a great, great present. Talk about some quality time doing some cool things.

*******
Both kids are going cross-country next week to visit grandparents. M is visiting my familiy in Phoenix, and L is visiting B’s family in San Diego. They are so excited! This is their first time flying alone, and they are really looking forward to it. I am, too, as we have some fun plans for while they’re gone, but I know I will miss them terribly. Our house will not be the same without them.

I will take pictures of all of the fun places we visit.

Farmers

This article speaks volumes. I blogged before about the plight of the family farmer.

My cousin Mike brought up a good point after that post. He said that many people are losing their jobs because of technology and outsourcing. He noted that not just farmers, but people everywhere, are looking at the destruction of their livelihoods and incomes because employers are sending jobs to other countries and utilizing sophisticated machinery that can work cheaper and faster.

And his point is well taken.

However, I've been doing some thinking, and I think that it's very different with farmers. There are farms here that are century farms (and I don't think it's just in Iowa). They are properties that have been worked and lived in and farmed by the same family for over 100 years. I was talking with our insurance agent, and he said that people take out life insurance policies, typically sons take the policies out on their fathers, and when the father dies, the policy pays the son and he buys the farm. (Maybe that's where the expression comes from??) Generations of children grow up on farms, and in rural communities, and they take farm-related courses in school. Their communities revolve around 4-H and Grange. They coordinate their social lives around the county fair and harvest times. This is not just a job; it's literally their entire lives, their family histories. Getting a "regular" job isn't about learning a new skill, it's the equivalent of moving to a new country.

And it's so different than a 9-5 job. It's such a different mentality that I can't imagine it would be easy to move from one to the other.

Farmers typically take out a large loan in the spring, buy their seed and fuel, make their repairs, put their seed in the ground, and then pray. Smaller farmers diversify, so they are busy over the summer with cattle and other livestock. Farmers are at the mercy of Mother Nature, they study the weather reports, and hope that no insects infest. They survey their land, watching it thrive or fail, knowing that there isn't one thing they can do except watch it do what it will. Livestock are susceptible to disease, to birth defects, to predators. I even saw in the news today that half of a farmer's herd of cattle was wiped out by lightning. For 16 cattle, he was out more than $15,000. He had insurance, but it didn't cover acts of God.

They endure the stress of the unknown-- will they reap enough to repay the loans in the fall? What if they don't? What if they have all or part of last year's loan to repay also?

The entire family helps. Our neighbors K&F both do the work. They are both in the field at the same time, each operating a different machine. They both move cattle, they both do the chores. They both stress when Mother Nature is in charge, and they have no control.

They have to wear so many hats. They have to be good at planning, good at finance. Every farmer I know is a good mechanic. They know about the moon cycles and phases, and the weather. They know about weeds and insects and sicknesses and vegetables. They are veritable chemists, veterinarians, conservationists, nutritionists. It can't be just a hobby-- their existence depends on being good at all of these things.

There are jobs in this world other than farming that are stressful. There are jobs that are nobler. But a farmer is in a completely different mindset than other jobs. It's not a 9-5 thing. He can't just go out for a beer on his way home from work and forget about his day. His problems don't go away by just getting a promotion, or a new boss, or a raise.

And they work so hard. They work rain or shine. Rainy days are good for fixing broken things. Sunny days are good for making hay, moving animals, working in the field, and a host of other things. No days off for a farmer. They probably make a few cents an hour, as it all works out. And of course, there is no extra pay for overtime and weekends and holidays. No vacation time or personal days, or even sick time.

And, when the season is done, all they want is the ability to pay the loan back and the chance to do it again next year.

I wanna be a farmer when I grow up. When that will be is anyone's guess. : )

Thanks, Mike, for making me think. : )

P.S. I asked K a few weeks ago what he would tell his 9-year-old son if he told him he wanted to grow up and be a farmer. He said, "I'd tell him to get a job in town." That's so sad. : (

Bubba's Dog

Well, I am sad to report that Bubba's dog has died.

I am VERY sad to report that it hung itself on the fence. It was one of the three Great Pyranees that he had, and it was the one that he kept tied up. Recall that he kept it tied up so the other dogs (2 Great Pyranees and 1 Border Collie) would stay close. Uh huh, sure. Right. The dogs never stayed home, they were over here half the time.

Anyway, it was a cruel, brutal way to die, and Bubba should be subjected to the same pain. I drove by and saw the fence pulled down, and the dog lying over it, and not moving. I thought I should go back-- nobody was home at Bubba's house. I had a phone call when I got in, and then I grabbed my binoculars and looked over while I was on the phone. About 5 minutes later, while I was still on the phone, Bubba came home and rushed over to the dog. He tried to revive it, but it was already dead.

I am sad for the dog. But Bubba is so incredibly cruel, just by reason of his stupidity. Anyone who puts an 8-week old kitten outside in the middle of winter to "make it an indoor-outdoor cat" or who gets 4 dogs and lets three of them run loose and leaves the other tied up, just doesn't get it. I believe that they love their animals, but when it's not convienent for them, they just toss them aside. Or they think that by letting them be loose and wild, that they are giving the animal an ideal life. They feel that rescuing an animal from a shelter and bringing it home to BubbaHaven is a walk in the park for the animal. They used to come looking for their dogs when they got away. They don't anymore, they just leave them loose to chase my car, or chase B when he runs on his morning jogs.

I hope that he feels lower than a worm's belly. I hope he has a hole in his heart because somewhere in it he loved that dog. I hope this makes him think that he should do things a lot differently.

Unfortunately, I bet he's the sort that will just go out and get another one to replace it. I'd be overjoyed to proclaim to the world that I am wrong on this one.

I hate people.

I wonder what he'll do with the 100 pound dead dog-- if he takes it to the vet, he'll have to explain that one. Maybe I don't want to know what he'll do with it...

horse people

I saw this list of items on another website, it struck me funny. All of them apply, and what’s the funniest is that 18 months ago, NONE of them would have applied!

You Know You’re a Horse Person When:

• You get to the checkout at the grocery and the only things you're buying are 5 gallons of corn oil, a gallon of vinegar and dish soap (to make fly spray).

• The photo Christmas cards feature the horses.

• Your car is the only one in the company parking lot that has an inch of dust INSIDE and when you open the door, a swarm of flies emerge.

• You get a little whiff of manure smell and breathe deeper to get the full impact. That goes double for the smell of leather.

• Suppertime is generally at 8PM, and everyone has been home since before 5.

• You RUSH to the front window to watch the horses run & buck in the pasture, even if you're in the middle of a meal. Good, clean fun!

• The concept of sleeping in on the weekends has long since faded from your memory.

• You know more about equine nutrition than human nutrition and it shows

• You cannot imagine why anyone would think it kinky to own whips

• You show up in city clothes dressed for appointments and when you get there people reach over the breakfast table to pick alfalfa out of your hair.

• You dress like a lawyer on weekdays and someone who needs a lawyer on your days off

• No one wants to ride in your car because they'll get sweet feed and hay in their socks and purses...that's ok because then you'd have to rearrange all the tack to make room for them, anyway!

• You’ve considered moving into the barn, since it is cleaner than the house.

• You drive up in the yard, get out of the car and inhale the perfume of the manure pile.

• You talk to the horses like they were kids.

• You leave work feeling stiff, tense, with a stomach- or headache, and all those feelings disappear the minute you get home and see the horses waiting by the fence for you.

What a Small World

We live near a river, which is sort of the dividing line between our "neighborhood" and the others. We don't really drive toward the river, and the houses over the river are also over a large hill, and are too far away for the kids to walk to, etc.

Our road ends abruptly as you go in the opposite direction, so we think of our "neighborhood" as anyone between our house and the end of the road, or anyone you can see from our house. So, all told, there are 10 houses in the neighborhood including ours. Mapblast says that's within 1.1 miles.

Having said that, we know everyone who lives in all of these houses, and who owns the land that no houses occupy. Some people we've only met once, when they were driving by and introducing themselves shortly after we moved in, others (like Bubba) we know all too well. Some we just met when Pecos got away a few weeks ago.

Except for one. Their house sits back from the road, in some trees. I actually forgot it was there until yesterday.

I was at school. Since it was my vacation, I decided to go to school and have lunch with my kids (which was a blast, I highly recommend it). While I was saying goodbye to L, there was a man waiting for me to finish. When I did, he introduced himself and asked if I lived on XXX road. I said I did (well, not XXX, that sounds like a red light district!), and he introduced himself as a teacher at the school. He knew me from a function I attended as the parent of a child with autism, but he had not put that together with the neighbor thing. He then told me that his father lived around the corner. Sure, I know him, I wave to him every day when I leave for work and come home! He has a big ol' farm, and some of his land extends to behind mine.

Small world. Especially here!

I think I now know ALL of my neighbors.

Sneaky Stallion

So I walk into the barn last night, and I am greeted at the door by Major. He is quite calm, with a mouth full of hay. He has torn up an entire bale of good alfalfa-- never touched the crappy grass hay, of course.

He has also knocked the top off of the pellet feed. It's not as enticing as the grain, so he didn't pillage that. It's a good thing we keep the grain in a 50 gallon metal drum, with a locking lid. But then again, that's exactly why we keep it locked up.

He looks at me casually, like I am just a cat walking through or something. I calmly say, "Get back in your stall" and he does. He moseys over there like it's no big deal.

This is now the second time that I have been negligent and he has gotten out. Or so I thought...

This has happened twice, but those 2 times have been in the last 10 days...

And he now has a new "neighbor" next to him...

PECOS!

Yes, Don Pecos has been able to get the latch open. I have had to tie Major's latch closed with some baling twine. This weekend we will have to work on a more permanent solution.

But I wonder what he is thinking. Was he thinking, "If I open Major's stall, he'll go over there and bring us all some hay" or "If I open the dork's stall and let him out, it will be funny to see him get into trouble" or maybe "What does this thing do? Oooh! Fun!" ?

Then again, maybe he was just up for the challenge of manipulating the latch with his lips.

If you think that they can't, read this great article: What was that horse thinking?

Struggle

The year is 1995. It's March.

The man wakes up one day, and he can't speak. It's like bells palsy: sudden, definite, debilitating, unexplainable.

But, unlike bells palsy, it doesn't go away. He has no recourse, but to hope and pray, and wish it gone. No insurance, no job, a child and a wife to support.

Fast-forward two years.

The man has two children now. He lives in another country. He is in the military, struggling daily with his inability to be understood. Torn always between wanting to learn to live with it, to stop dwelling on it and learn to accept it and himself, and between seeking a reason for this. An answer, a name he can type into the internet and order pills to cure.

The oldest baby has problems. The man doesn't know what is wrong with her. His job is always in jeopardy because of his speech. He focuses on being a good soldier, doing his job well, doing everything right. His commanders wonder what is wrong with him. He tries to be a good husband and father and soldier. It drains him.

The wife is distressed. She has a toddler with problems, a newborn also. Her family is far away, thousands of miles across the ocean. She is an outsider in so many ways. She doesn't fit in with her new neighbors off base, because she is American. She doesn't fit in with her military neighbors on base because she is too liberal. She finds one or two people she can trust, but spends the majority of her time inside. She treasures the moments she spends with her husband, her best friend. She is worried that she is becoming agoraphobic. The couple has no money; the man is enlisted and makes just over $1000 per month after taxes. It's difficult for a family of four to subsist on that amount. They are lucky to have an extra $20 to last 2 weeks until the next payday.

The wife takes her toddler for appointment after appointment. The couple is told that they could be better parents, and a parenting class is prescribed. The mom is told that the toddler is bright, but testing may reveal more. So testing dates are set.

The man's commander decides that it's time to figure out what is wrong with him. The doctors determine that they can't perform extensive testing in their country, so they must send him back to the US for tests. Inpatient testing, for at least one month.

The man is distraught. He must leave his family in crisis. Will they be okay for a month without him? He will be so far away. What will his tests prove? Will the doctors find some dread disease? Will the military use the findings to discharge him? How would his family make ends meet if he were discharged?

The day I watched my husband leave RAF Lakenheath on a MedEvac flight was probably the worst day of my life. I also was given the news that day that my daughter would never be "normal."

"But I thought you told me that she was a bright child! How can you say that she has an IQ of 75, when you told me before that she was bright?!"

"Mrs. X, everyone thinks their child is bright."

I will never forget that day. When I hear about people that are suicidal, people that are desperate, and I can't imagine their pain, I always think back on that day. I had nothing left, no hope whatsoever. I was so incredibly sad, with nowhere to turn, nobody to even hug me. I cried so hard coming back from the runway observation area, that I had to pull over because I couldn't see. I was like a wrung-out rag. Limp, no energy, not a thing left in my soul for me to use to go on.

But somehow I got up the next morning. And I put one foot in front of the other.

It is amazing how strong people are. How one can make their destiny. How God can use those rock bottom experiences to mold you into someone new.

Worry is no longer my enemy. When he used to come around, I would be unable to cope, only able to focus on him. Now I can just ignore him. He still comes around, but he's like a stray cat, I just push him out of the way with my foot and get on with my day.

B's condition caused him to be discharged from the military in January of 1999. Because we had the sense to fight the military, he was discharged with disability pay. He has a small pension each month now. He was discharged with a lump sum, and we used it for a downpayment on a new house.

Our daughter was diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome. Finally, a name to put on her. Symptoms we could identify with. A network of other parents, siblings, and those themselves coping with AS. Prescribed treatment, a path worn by other families. Footprints laid that we could easily step into until we were strong enough to forge our own path.

Strength came quickly. It came exponentially with an increase in confidence, cash, assistance from the school, access to good healthcare, and battles won.

It's amazing, because I rarely remember those times. In fact, I don't often recall how rock-bottom I felt that horrible day.

But I am who I am today because of that very day.

Our family is strong. Bring it on-- we can take it. Not only can we take it, but we'll be better for it.

And that is why I am so grateful for our farm. For the peace that it brings, for the hard work that it requires (and thrives from). For the dream come true that it represents. For the unique blessing that it is. How could I have ever known in 1995 that this is where I would be in 10 years?

Jumping Beans

Remember Bubba, and his trampoline? Well, "Annie" called the other day and told L that her cousin came over, fell off of the trampoline and "broke her head."

You know, we always wear helmets when we ride. I would say that even riding has to be less risky than jumping on a trampoline. No broken heads yet, and no plans for any, either.

Today

Chicken Coop


Chicken Coop again


Standing at the far edge of our backyard, looking beyond the fence at the creek. Past the creek is our east hayfield, which extends to the brown (tilled) ground. That hayfield will be planted with soybeans soon!


My composite "panoramic" photo of the "new" backyard. It's taken from the exact spot I took the previous photo (of the creek), I just turned around the other way. This whole section, from where I am standing, used to be filled with weeds taller than me. We mowed it a few weeks ago, and have had a lot of fun with the firepit, and the Safari Party, etc. We want to overseed it and clean it up a bit more, put a horseshoe pit in, etc. It will be great! The hammock is going to the right of the garage (the brick building toward the right of the photo), between the garage and the trees.


This is an old picture, before it was mowed. It was taken a little further up, so I am looking across the (now) mowed section, down past the grass to the trees. When I took the panoramic picture, I was standing at the post that you can see in the middle of this picture. It's taller than the others.

Happy Mother's Day! : )

raison d'etre

One little boy who came over today for the party came with a warning from his father: "My boy is allergic to horses. He can't get near them. If he gets anywhere near them, he'll swell up, he'll have a hard time breathing-- it will just be bad." I gulped, "Um, okay! We didn't plan to "play" with the horses today anyway. No horses on safaris, you know!" But hey, little kids are drawn to them, and they love kids! It's such a hoot to see Major begging for a tootsie roll or something... He adds, "Oh, and hay, too. Can't come anywhere near hay."

This reminded me of my friend in England. That poor soul gets the worst migraines from eating either chocolate or cheese. So, naturally, she avoids both of them.

Aside from B and my kids, and all of my brood of animals, I can't imagine anything I love more than chocolate, cheese, horses and hay. When one is having a baby, they tell you to think of a calming place. You spend many hours in childbirth class picking out your place to "visit" and imagining the entire sensory experience. Then, when the event takes place, you're all ready. Do you know where I picked? Not Mexico, not Hawaii, no beaches were involved. I picked the haymow of a barn. I love the wind whooshing through on a hot day, the cats underfoot, the smell of freshly cut hay.

So, please God, if you have to make me allergic to something, please don't let it be someone I love, chocolate, cheese, hay or horses. : )

P.S. The boy was fine, no contact was made with either of the culprits.

I'm Exhausted.

This morning and early afternoon we had a Safari here. Seven 9-year olds came over, and we celebrated L's birthday. It was in Feb, but that was my busy time at work, so we waited until we could have a calmer schedule, and play outside.

They had pith helmets, binoculars, sunglasses, squirt guns, flashlights, compasses and bug pencils as their goodie bags. I hid reptiles in the grass and they had to find them. We had a cool treasure hunt, and even at 6:00 this morning I came up with cool clues:

The next clue won't give you a rest
It's in the tree I like the best.
To figure out which one, you'll have to think.
I can see it from my kitchen sink.
The biggest, the oldest, the roundest you'll see
But it's not the closest, it's far from me.

and

This used to be a place for food
Now it's looking pretty crude.
Since it's creepy, I did decide
To hide the clue just outside.
(I had hidden it outside the grain bin)

We ate bugs made of string cheese and chow mein noodles, spiders constructed of hot dogs, ants on a log with peanut butter, celery and raisins. I made a cool cake in the shape of a snake. We had worms in dirt (gummy worms in crushed up Oreos) and animal crackers.

We played games like animal charades and a jumping relay, plus the squirt gun play and the treasure hunt.

And now I am exhausted. B and M went to the store and bought the ingredients for M to cook us all supper. They also brought me my mother's day present-- a hammock! B says it's big enough for the whole family!! I am tickled pink. I think it's going to be a weekend of R&R-- what better way to celebrate!

Also, I have the whole week off next week! I'm going to work hard on the walls inside. I really want to get busy on them. It will really make a difference in my perspective, plus it will be so much easier to take small baby steps toward being "done." At this point, the next step is so drastic, time-consuming, and requires such a big block of time, that we have put it off for a long time. It will be a big weight off of my shoulders to have this part of the project done.

And I have turned off my email from work-- I actually put an auto-responder on my email! For you who know me personally, you know that was a big, big deal. I'm trying to not be the workaholic that my genetics dictate that I am...

I think I could get used to it!

We saw an oriole today. L said he saw one yesterday, too. We've nailed some oranges to a few trees, and hope to see him around here more often. He's a beauty!

Hope you have a great mother's day weekend. Those who are moms, or those who just have moms. : )

Smelling the Roses

Well, there are no roses blooming yet, but figuratively sniffed a lot of them today.

We went out to the barn to tuck the horses in for the evening, but ended up spending a few minutes out there just seeing what we could see.

And we saw a lot!

We saw bats, two satellites, and a huge, low-flying airplane. We heard an owl that we hadn't heard before. Oh, and a jillion stars.

I love it here. : )

Recently sighted at our house

Hey, THANKS!!

From WHO TV - Des Moines

Madison County, May 4, 2005 - One of Madison County's famed covered bridges is getting a facelift. Volunteers from across the state will help renovate the Hogback bridge today. An arsonist set fire to the bridge back in 2002. Volunteers plan to clean it up and paint the landmark. They will also do some landscaping.

The cost of the improvements will be about $15,000. Hampton Inn is footing the bill. Its part of the hotel's 'Save-A-Landmark' program. This is a national award and only one place is selected each year. Volunteers will also install electricity to the area. That electricity will help power security cameras. The chamber of commerce has raised the money to buy the cameras. Iowa State sponsored the security at Cedar Bridge. Cedar Bridge was rebuilt after an arson fire destroyed it. There have been three notable fires over the past few years, but so far, no one has been caught. The county plans to add security cameras to five famous bridges.

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You must have voted early and often, as I asked! Thanks so much! I look forward to "my" bridge being all spruced up.

Now, for some covered bridge facts:

Do you know why the bridges were covered?
They were covered because the timbers on the bottom, the ones that actually spanned the river, were very expensive to replace. Think about it, too: with the bridge out, it was quite an inconvenence, for considerably longer than it would take nowadays. Probably the route was the only route to town, etc. It was much easier to replace the covers than to replace the bridge timbers, so they built a cover to protect them.

Also, they were covered because of the snow. Snowplows did not always exist. In the days of horses and buggies, folks used sleighs in the winter. Contrary to our romantic notions of today, sleighs were not used on grass or other bumpy terrain. They were used on roads, and the snow was rolled flat and packed down. So the sleighs glided right along on top of the hard packed snow.

But all of that snow was heavy, and would place strain on the bridges. So they covered it, so there wouldn't be a heavy layer of snow on the bridge.