Wednesday, March 23, 2011


This is day two on my drive back home from Michigan.
I'm not ready to post about the trip yet, but I do have a funny story to tell and it's too long for Facebook, so y'all win:)

The day started out nicely - I grabbed my double espresso from the gas station while I filled the car, turned on my phone's GPS and headed out of town.
I had stayed in Hopkinsville, Tennessee, last night, and as I started out of town I was a little curious as to the route I was being sent on by Jana, my current GPS "girl".

You see, since my GPS voice is a woman's, I named my GPS after a woman in my family.....Oh, Jana isn't the first.....she's the third.
The first was Carly (after my niece) but it seems that "Carly" had a drinking problem and was continuously showing up to work drunk and unable to give me the correct directions.
So, as hard as it was, I fired her behind (felt kinda good). 
I hired "Mother" (after my mom) next and was to be disappointed yet again.
Seems she has a problem with the bubbly and I couldn't count on her either.

The hardest part was that in my new "safe" Tonka (Tonka yellow Nissan) I don't have a stinkin' compass. So, even if my GPS shows up to work sober, I STILL don't have my compass.
Would someone PLEASE buy me a compass for my new "safe" car??

.....Back to task - my newest GPS girl is Jana (after my DIL). She's been doing quite a good job and I've been very pleased. I really thought I had found a young adult with the sense of responsibility needed to be an effective GPS girl.
Well, it seems she has simply been able to hide a serious drug problem.....until today.
It took me TWO HOURS......................TWO. HOURS. get out of the Hopkinsville wilderness this morning.
Oh, I fired her before the first hour was over, I was so disappointed.
So, there I was with no GPS girl and no compass.
Are you seein' my problem??

I finally made my way out of the maze and headed south.
I'll continue the trip without a GPS girl as I mull over whom to hire next - I'm definitely going outside of the family.
The compass?? Well, seems I always think of one when I NEED one and that's in the middle of no where, so someone is going to have to buy this woman a compass!

The day picked up this afternoon when my little girl, Skyler, called to give me an update on her dog, Sooner.
Sooner had a 104 degree temperature and wouldn't walk on one of her legs yesterday so they (she and her husband, Brian) took her to the emergency clinic last night and got antibiotics and some pills or something for her.
Today Sooner is doing better.

Skyler said that when she came home at lunch that Sooner was standing up in her CRATE and barked a couple of times.
I said, "She's still in a crate??"

Skyler knows how I feel about crate training dogs - it's not my favorite thing (anyone that strongly disagrees with my stand should send all letters, emails and comments to Oprah).
I understand that sometimes it's necessary and Skyler and I tease back and forth about it.

Skyler said, "She's comfortable in the crate. She came to us crate trained and it keeps her out of trouble. She's got lots of room."

I said, "If you had a bird would you keep it in a cage??"

..............and then we both bust out laughin'.

It was sooooo funny!
I don't know if you had to be there - you might think so if you have never heard me talk, but if you have then you can hear me sayin' all of that and maybe it would be funnier.
Oh, alright, I THINK it might be funnier to you because I thought it was cuh-razy funny when it happened.

So, that was my day.
That a glass of complimentary wine at the hotel when I got here.

Love you more!

Friday, March 4, 2011


Now, now, put your tissue up, I lived to tell the story - the goats did not win.
I won and that's why I kinda wanted to name this post, "I DON'T NEED NO STINKIN' MAN".
That's because I beat me some goats by myself.
The Tank? Out of town for the day.

Picture this.....I'm sound asleep *probably not more than 5 or 5:30 am ;)*
and in comes my mom. She tells me that all of the goats
were out and that they were in the swimming pool.
I turn my head enough to mutter back to dear mother, "They're IN the pool??".

"Well, no, but they're all around the pool and what if they want a drink??"
"They'll drown."
The goats loved getting some sun at the pool and no one fell in.
(thought bubble) 'Right.'

I slowly rise out of bed and stumble into the bathroom,
get dressed, take my meds and brush my teeth.
You see, I was real concerned.
The front yard was full of goats, too.
Evidence that the goats were in the yard.
Just outside of the yard.
I was so glad that my table and chairs were still standing!
See that corner??
Several of those sneaky goats tried to blend in and hide there.
I went outside and all of the goats were at the pool, in the yard, outside of the yard, everywhere they weren't supposed to be.
They should have been in a pasture by the barn.

Frank wasn't on the place
and all I had for a ranch hand would mother.
So, basically.......I was alone.

I got the bucket, a plastic Maxwell coffee can.
(You see, if you're a real rancher you don't need fancy metal buckets.
You just use what's in the trash.)
I filled the bucket with goat feed and got them all into the pasture.
The infamous plastic Maxwell coffee bucket.
No man.
No ranch hand.

No mother.
I did it all by myself.
I don't need no stinkin' man.

However, after it was all over,
what I did need was a change of clothes 
and a shower.

Oh, not because I broke a sweat.
Come on, I am woman.
"BACK OFF, BILLY!!.....BILLY!! BACK OFF!!.........Ohhhhh, Billy!
The problem was that, well, the billy (proud man goat)
rubbed up against me.

Well, let's see, how do I put this?
Why do I share it at all?
I share it because it's a fact that all should know
in case you are ever caught in the middle of a goat herd.

To attract the fetching female goats for a date
(yes, they date)
the male goat goes through a, well, a ritual......
Billy lowers his head between his front legs
and, well, oh gosh, this is so hard.....
Okay, I'm just going to say it.....
Billy lowers his head between his front legs
and he, okay, he pees on his head.

There I said it.
I know, it's quite vile.
AND, it's the truth. (I know!)
And, since this isn't smell-a-blog
then you aren't getting the real feel for this act.
you must immediately change your clothes
AND take a shower.
Oh, it is soooo, soooo disgusting.

Alrighty then, I made it through being ranch hand for a day
and had a renewed sense of appreciation
for what the Tank does.

Babies love the confines of a tight area.
Milling around acting like they had done nothing wrong.
Just like a goat.
As a matter of fact,
later that very day I had that sense of appreciation
all those damn darn goats got out again.
And, that 2nd time two of the teenagers,
males (was there any question?),
decided that they didn't want to be corralled.
After about 45 minutes I got them in threatening them that
 I could just shoot them.
Look at that precious little male juvenile delinquent.
I warned all of them as I was walking
through the herd to go back to the house
that I would bring my gun (yes, I have a gun)
with me the next time.

I feel certain they got the message
and I don't expect any problems in the future.
it's hard to see the red arrow,
but it's pointing at one of my ideas of their escape routes.

Goat ranching??
Easy peasy.

Thanks for taking the time to read my blog!!    
I really enjoy all of your comments so if you
want to leave one, I'd love it!


Nothing much cuter than a baby goat.


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