I'll show you...

I have some of the most awesome grandkids.  They are all country kids with lots of heart, try, and smarts.  All have shoveled their share of cow, horse, and pig manure. All know how to work.  All of them have a very dry sense of humor, and All are aware of how blessed they are. And I'm very aware of how incredibly blessed I am to have them in my life.

My granddaughter, Lauren recently sent me pictures, and I'm sharing...

Lauren with her big shades...

 

 Daniel (the boyfriend) took Lauren gliding and then asked her to the prom. Good going young man.

I have a couple thousand more pics of my grandkids, hang on a minute and I'll show you...

More wine...?

This was the month that it was my turn to host book club.  I told Dad the date quite some time ago, and wrote it on our calendar. Two days before, I again reminded him. Turned out there was a little tiny bit of a conflict as he had scheduled the ol guys poker game here for the same night. He said no problem, the guys would keep the noise down. Love you Dad but I don't see that happening, could you guys play at D's house this one go round.  Poker night was moved to D's house, then cancelled due to conflicts for the other ol guys. So, we had Dad here for book club, nine women and Dad, he was in heaven. Although he spent most of the time in his room watching the ball game, he did come out to partake of the food, and to flirt with the ladies. 

Not at all sure I'm cut out to be the BC hostess type, now cowcamp I can do. You've got steak, beans, salad, salsa, beer, coffee, and pie. Damn Simple.

Book club is a whole nuther horse.  Anyway as I am chanting, "I can do this"... I threw a round of Brie in the oven to soften, sliced veggies and fruits to dip, made a plate of olive oil and balsamic vinegar with crushed garlic, finely chopped fresh rosemary, pinch of pink salt & fresh ground pepper. Sliced a baguette of rustic bread. Poured a jar of Jill's award winning Pepper Jelly over a softened brick of cream cheese, and ringed it with organic wheat crackers.  I opened bottles of red and white wines, and told them to have at it. Between the gals and Dad the only things left were a small piece of jicama and a snow pea.

The book:  We proceeded to each in turn review the book for this month.  There was much lively discussion and the consensus was that we all liked it. The book had been my selection, and I wasn't sure what their take on it would be. The book was "The Girl on the Train: A Novel" by Paula Hawkins.

I was feeling pretty darn good towards the end of the evening (the combination of wine & good company, no doubt) and thinking I had done fairly well for a country cowgirl.  When one of the gals said, "So, what's for desert?"  (Well dammit to hell and all the way back!)  "umm, I don't do deserts, more wine?"

Blue Grass...

Garden & Gun is a favorite of mine, 

mix with some Robert Earl Keen and you're on your way to the weekend...

link:

Back Porch Session: Robert Earl Keen

Keep'n it simple...

Slowly changing the look of the house and landscape to my idea of western minimalist or what ever you want to call it...

While cutting back the juniper jungle I found two rusty metal crane cutouts that had been hidden in the landscape.  One, I placed by the front door in one of Dad's awesome disk blade planters.

The other one I put in just off the back patio by the waterfall.

I may well change them out, but I like the simplicity of their lines.

Finally drug my bookcase cabinet out of the garage and into my bedroom.  A few years back mother saw it in a barn at a ranch sale. It had been used to store junk, paint, oil, and as a home for wasps and spiders.  It was in such sad shape they gave it to her.  She didn't want it, but knew I would.  I brought it home, and promptly knocked out the  top panels in the doors, pulled out the shelves and scrubbed the whole thing down.  Found some crown molding at the hardware store to put around the top, and bead molding to go over the edges of the chicken wire I put on the top door panels.  After that I sanded the whole thing down as close to bare wood as possible. (It was painted a fuggly green.)  Then, I reinstalled the shelves and painted the inside with two coats of Navajo white. After the inside was thoroughly dry, I painted the outside with Navajo white and and wiped it off just before the paint started to get tacky. Let it dry, and gave it several coats of clear Briwax. It has seen a bunch of cowcamps since and is still holding up. It isn't pretty, but it works for me.

Dancing fool...

It's that Red Bluff Round Up time of year again, Yee Haw! 

We don't have a Skeeter Bill's but we do have a Round Up Dance, so I'm thinking this could be fun. Dang, I hope the odds are a bit better than four to one.

Being on the walking wounded list from my last go round with those damn junipers along the new fence line, is not going to stop the dancing.  Yep, I know that it's my own darn fault that my leg was cut up. I should have been wearing my boots & jeans instead of cropped leggings and flip flops when I decided to grab my lineman pliers and tighten one more little section of fence. 
I will try to be circumspect as befits my quiet nature and not do any table dancing, but there are no guarantees in cowcamp or life... 

Fence Up...

Since there was a hew and cry by a few souls for pics of the fence, here you go. Don't say I didn't warn you, it isn't pretty. And it sure as shoot'n wouldn't have passed inspection by the Cowman.

It isn't made of lawyers planted head first and sewn together by their suits, as Fredd suggested (wish he had been around for the planning stage of this project). Though I would excluded my attorney, (whom I like) as he's a lean, mean, savvy cowman.

  I have a few finishing things to do: paint out the tops of the T posts, put in the center wire clips on each post, and fence staple the bottom wire to the RR ties.

 ^ The north east fence line.

^  Two gates were installed by Dad, the 91 yr old, setting in his hovveround. Before you holler elder abuse, know that he is as determined as they come.

^  From the deck looking South the fence line is mostly unseen.

Willie has tested the fence and it has kept him in, so far.  Had it been my Gus,  the Scottish Terror, he would have been out in a flash and off in search of the next adventure... 

Fence build...

We have started the actual build on the fence project. After a lengthy time spent trying to find some help that was reasonably affordable, I asked Suz, a neighbor gal, if she knew of anyone that might be willing to help me put it up.  She did, so she and her 19 yr old nephew came today.  We got about 1/2 of it in, and the nephew and I will finish up tomorrow, barring unforeseen problems. (Suz had already made plans to do defensible space work at her other house near Pollock Pines this weekend.) 
It isn't pretty, but it is going to serve it's purpose.  I'm trying not to think of what the Cowman would say if he saw it.

Texas Bed Fence

Washington wagon wheel fence

New Zealand bra fence

 I had thought to put up a fence that was so damn boring it would not draw attention to it's self. I might rethink that.

He is Risen. Happy Easter.

Prayer Up

Setting at Good Friday Mass. The church is full, the choir is heavenly and the music is beautifully reverent. Father is making points with his homily. I'm listening (for a change) and absorbing the import of his message. 

As I looked around me I had to smile, I had taken care to wear my best VS undies, a fancy slip, a nice spring dress, my good sandals, and a fresh coat of red polish on the toes, and here I set among the crones. There was a nice crone on one side of me and a strange tiny crone on the other, we are all God's children.  An elderly crone with horrendous body odor, shaggy hair and rumpled men's clothing is in the pew directly in front of me, so that when I kneel it is almost over powering. Father is coming to the end of his homily, all is silent with reverence.  And a cell phone rings (the old school ring tone) and rings, and gets louder, as the ol crone in front of me slowly pulls it from the depths of her khakis. She shuts it off, as Father says, "that was a cell phone, not God".  Laughter bounces off the frescoes on the ceiling.  God obviously has a sense of timing and humor. 

We go up to kiss the newly unveiled cross. As I get closer to the cross, my usual prayers for my family and a few close friends desert me, they are just gone... my mind is totally blank.  Then, as I touch the cross, my prayer just bursts out, not loudly, but so fiercely it causes the alter boy to step back, "Please look after her, Father!" Even fiercely protective shield maidens need a much higher power's intersession from time to time...

A Blessed Easter to her, you & yours, Brig