(Yoda style)
Disgusting are ticks
Elsewhere they need to find blood
A host I am not
Creepy little tick
Why do you suck on me so?
I shall pluck you off.
Nasty evil ticks
Your thirst for blood disgusts me.
Go suck it elsewhere.
(That last line applies to many things)
Bits and pieces about my life, how I live it and what I think about everything else.
And some knitting.
Monday, April 15, 2013
Friday, April 12, 2013
About Mules
And I'm not talking about shoes/clogs, which happen to be my favorite type of footwear.
No, this blog is about the mammal mule, the hybrid, the Equus Mule, the breeding of a male donkey and a female horse. If a female donkey and male horse are mated, the result is a hinny. I was curious, so I looked it up. Now I have a head full of little-known mule facts:
So, why do I feel compelled to discuss mules?
Last week, in a small town south of Nashville, it was Mule Day. The name of the event is a bit deceiving because Mule Day lasts for an entire week. I've lived in Nashville for nearly 25 years now and this was my first time experiencing Mule Day in Columbia, TN, and folks, it was eye-opening!
This celebration has been going on for about 170 years now and attracts 200,000 people from all over the country. Besides the standard mule-themed events, there's a parade and even a Mule Day Queen. (Yes, I saw her strutting around the festival with her entourage, resplendent in sash, tiara...and cowboy boots.)
We started the day at S&G Custom Cycles to see our favorite high-energy band, Phoenix Rising, play at 10am.
The shop is full ofcrap stuff.
No, this blog is about the mammal mule, the hybrid, the Equus Mule, the breeding of a male donkey and a female horse. If a female donkey and male horse are mated, the result is a hinny. I was curious, so I looked it up. Now I have a head full of little-known mule facts:
- A female donkey is called a jennet
- A male donkey is called a jack
- Mules are sterile because of an uneven chromosome count
- A mule's temperament depends on the breed of mare and jack used.
- Mule predators: fox, wolf, lion
So, why do I feel compelled to discuss mules?
Last week, in a small town south of Nashville, it was Mule Day. The name of the event is a bit deceiving because Mule Day lasts for an entire week. I've lived in Nashville for nearly 25 years now and this was my first time experiencing Mule Day in Columbia, TN, and folks, it was eye-opening!
This celebration has been going on for about 170 years now and attracts 200,000 people from all over the country. Besides the standard mule-themed events, there's a parade and even a Mule Day Queen. (Yes, I saw her strutting around the festival with her entourage, resplendent in sash, tiara...and cowboy boots.)
We started the day at S&G Custom Cycles to see our favorite high-energy band, Phoenix Rising, play at 10am.
Brian (guitar), Amy (lead singer), David (drums, you can barely see him behind Bob), Bob (bass)
The shop is full of
Crutches as art and a plastic nativity scene (lit!)
Table full of free crap (I didn't take any)
Motorized coffin with skeleton
Sign explaining coffin
Lots of cycles
Lots of parts of cycles
Um
More cycles and a wood stove
The place is like the Eye Spy of crap. Yes, that's a spinning wheel.
I knew I'd see one if I looked hard enough! Actually, there were two.
More free crap that I didn't take
If you're going to leave out a letter, I guess D is a good choice
Outside
More outside
Then we had lunch. Yes, we had BOTH pizza AND grits, separately.
From there, it was off to the celebration. Some of the photos are a bit blurry because I was trying to be "cool" with the camera. We're talking THOUSANDS of people.
People to the left
People to the right
People in the middle
Just one of the rings
Mules just hanging out
More mules
Mules about to pull a crap-load of cinder blocks
More mule pulling
I'm oddly pleased by this.
Really?
Now that we've gotten the lay of the land, we'll be going back next year...and I'm bringing extra camera batteries!
Thursday, April 4, 2013
About turning old into new
I had every intention of going to Ewe & Company, a yarn shop in Kingston Springs, this evening to hang out and knit for a bit. However, whenI got home I was attacked by a pair of sweatpants. Then the sofa tractor beam kicked in and that was that.
But the night wasn't a total waste. I made a new bed for my dog. Her old bed was stinky and gross, and a stinky and gross dog bed is a bad thing. I was going to buy her a new one but, since I had been attacked by sweatpants, going to the pet store was not an option. So, I looked about my house for dog bed materials. One old wool blanket, several partial bags of quilt batts and I was in the dog bed making business.
I cut the blanket in quarters. Don't freak. The blanket is very worn and the half I didn't use had a big hole in it. Then I sandwiched several layers of polyester battle between the two pieces of wool. To keep the filling from shifting I tied it just like you would tie a quilt. I closed it up with a blanket stitch edging. Pretty simple!
The whole process took about 2 hours at the most. I love it and so does Sophie!
But the night wasn't a total waste. I made a new bed for my dog. Her old bed was stinky and gross, and a stinky and gross dog bed is a bad thing. I was going to buy her a new one but, since I had been attacked by sweatpants, going to the pet store was not an option. So, I looked about my house for dog bed materials. One old wool blanket, several partial bags of quilt batts and I was in the dog bed making business.
I cut the blanket in quarters. Don't freak. The blanket is very worn and the half I didn't use had a big hole in it. Then I sandwiched several layers of polyester battle between the two pieces of wool. To keep the filling from shifting I tied it just like you would tie a quilt. I closed it up with a blanket stitch edging. Pretty simple!
The whole process took about 2 hours at the most. I love it and so does Sophie!
Blanket folded into quarters
About 6 layers of polyester batt sandwiched between blanket
Tied like a quilt
Blanket stitch edge
Sophie claims her bed
Sophie's bed in its place beside my bed
About the Voodoo Rodent
It's obvious that my letter to the gentlemen at the Groundhog Society was not taken seriously.
Well, rodent...take this. I have more pins and I'm not afraid to use them.
Well, rodent...take this. I have more pins and I'm not afraid to use them.
As Alice Cooper so eloquently put it, "NO MORE MISTER NICE GUY!"
Monday, April 1, 2013
About my weekend adventure
I'm not sure how this is going to go over in neighborhood. I'll either be crowned a genius, or I'll probably end up getting fined.
A lot happened last weekend. I'm not placing blame on anyone but myself, but the weather has been horrible this past month. Gloomy cold rain. Yuck. When the weekend rolled around I got in a bit over my head. I was bored and it was payday. Folks, that's a bad combination.
Friday night was spent quietly at my spinning wheel practicing plying. The fiber I'm spinning is a delightful blend of mulberry colored wool/silk roving that won Caulfield's Far Out Farm a ribbon at the Tennessee State Fair. I'm trying something new and using scotch tension rather than my double drive. The difference has taken a bit of getting used to, but I'm enjoying the results. It was late when I finally filled the bobbin and decided it was time for bed, so I didn't move my wheel back into its normal location. Who knew that being too lazy to put away my toys on a Friday night would lead to such an adventure? (Let this be a lesson!!!)
Saturday morning started out as any other Saturday morning. I let Sophie out, I surveyed the lawn situation, I heaved a sigh of disgust. I have a half acre of weeds and wild onions with little outcroppings of grass here and there. It's pitiful. I haven't started up the lawn mower yet because it's been too darn wet and cold, but as I contemplated my rapidly growing weed farm I knew I'd have to fire up the old Lawnboy soon enough. I walked back into the house with that nagging "there has got to be a better way" feeling in my head. Not paying attention to where I was going, I ran straight into my spinning wheel, knocking it over and sending the bobbins and unspun wool flying. Unspun wool. Wool. Wool comes from sheep. Sheep eat grass/weeds. I have grass/weeds. I need a sheep (singular) or sheep (plural). I like wool.
Can you can see where I'm going here? Well, after a pot of coffee and some successful Google search returns, I found a farm within driving distance that was willing to sell me a newly weened lamb. This was no easy task because I live within the urban services district of Nashville. No livestock! I would have to keep this little lamb under the radar because the farmer, who shall remain anonymous, could lose his membership in the Goat and Sheep Association of America and I could get the fine of a lifetime along with losing my precious little lamb to the Humane Society....or someone's freezer!
Before I was able to talk myself out of this craziness, I cleared out all the junk in the back of my Rav4 and headed to Lowe's for a couple bales of hay and fencing materials. $123.67 later and I was back at the house making a little pen in the garage for my new resident.
Once the pen was set up with watering bowls, food trough, and a comfy layer of hay, I headed to the farm to pick up my new ewe. I can't tell you how many times I've joked about wishing I had sheep in the back yard so I wouldn't have to mow. Looking back, I don't know why I didn't take myself seriously earlier. This is a grand idea! So, I got to the farm and instantly fell in love with this little girl:
Her name is Flurry because she was born on when snow was flying and she's a pure white Shetland. Cute as hell too!
While the drive to the farm was largely uneventful, the drive home was a different story. I had the backseats flipped down and hay spread over a tarp in the back. I have never transported anything other than my dog, and for some insanely idiotic moment, I thought that transporting a lamb wouldn't be much different. I was so wrong. Sheep bleat. Sheep bounce. Sheep poop. Lots of sheep poop. I know, I know! That's what I've always said about any kind of farm animal. They poop. But this is going to be a win win situation. She'll eat my grass/weeds and I'll spin her fleece into delightful skeins of yarn with which I will knit even more delightful garments.
Poop be damned, this will work!!
Well, we finally got home. I wrestled her out of the back of the car (sheep wiggle) and got her situated in her pen in the garage. Who knew that with all the crap in my garage that the bleating of a lamb would be so loud (sheep echo). Holy crap! I didn't think about that. I also didn't think about how long it takes a sheep to graze a square yard patch of grass/weeds. I put her out on Sophie's lead for a couple hours yesterday afternoon when it quit raining and let's just say that this is going to take for-freakin'-ever. I might need to go back and get her sister. It's a good thing the tarp is still in the back of my car.
Sophie is none to pleased about the addition of another animal, but I think she has assumed that Flurry is just a small dog who is totally uninterested in smelling butts.
I have taken way too many photos and videos to post here on this blog, so click here for the album. I'll be updating it daily. The video of her bouncing around in the backyard is totally priceless!
For sale or trade: 2 year old LawnBoy lawn mower $123.67 or three 40 pound bags of Sheep Chow and a bale of hay.
A lot happened last weekend. I'm not placing blame on anyone but myself, but the weather has been horrible this past month. Gloomy cold rain. Yuck. When the weekend rolled around I got in a bit over my head. I was bored and it was payday. Folks, that's a bad combination.
Friday night was spent quietly at my spinning wheel practicing plying. The fiber I'm spinning is a delightful blend of mulberry colored wool/silk roving that won Caulfield's Far Out Farm a ribbon at the Tennessee State Fair. I'm trying something new and using scotch tension rather than my double drive. The difference has taken a bit of getting used to, but I'm enjoying the results. It was late when I finally filled the bobbin and decided it was time for bed, so I didn't move my wheel back into its normal location. Who knew that being too lazy to put away my toys on a Friday night would lead to such an adventure? (Let this be a lesson!!!)
Saturday morning started out as any other Saturday morning. I let Sophie out, I surveyed the lawn situation, I heaved a sigh of disgust. I have a half acre of weeds and wild onions with little outcroppings of grass here and there. It's pitiful. I haven't started up the lawn mower yet because it's been too darn wet and cold, but as I contemplated my rapidly growing weed farm I knew I'd have to fire up the old Lawnboy soon enough. I walked back into the house with that nagging "there has got to be a better way" feeling in my head. Not paying attention to where I was going, I ran straight into my spinning wheel, knocking it over and sending the bobbins and unspun wool flying. Unspun wool. Wool. Wool comes from sheep. Sheep eat grass/weeds. I have grass/weeds. I need a sheep (singular) or sheep (plural). I like wool.
Can you can see where I'm going here? Well, after a pot of coffee and some successful Google search returns, I found a farm within driving distance that was willing to sell me a newly weened lamb. This was no easy task because I live within the urban services district of Nashville. No livestock! I would have to keep this little lamb under the radar because the farmer, who shall remain anonymous, could lose his membership in the Goat and Sheep Association of America and I could get the fine of a lifetime along with losing my precious little lamb to the Humane Society....or someone's freezer!
Before I was able to talk myself out of this craziness, I cleared out all the junk in the back of my Rav4 and headed to Lowe's for a couple bales of hay and fencing materials. $123.67 later and I was back at the house making a little pen in the garage for my new resident.
Once the pen was set up with watering bowls, food trough, and a comfy layer of hay, I headed to the farm to pick up my new ewe. I can't tell you how many times I've joked about wishing I had sheep in the back yard so I wouldn't have to mow. Looking back, I don't know why I didn't take myself seriously earlier. This is a grand idea! So, I got to the farm and instantly fell in love with this little girl:
Her name is Flurry because she was born on when snow was flying and she's a pure white Shetland. Cute as hell too!
While the drive to the farm was largely uneventful, the drive home was a different story. I had the backseats flipped down and hay spread over a tarp in the back. I have never transported anything other than my dog, and for some insanely idiotic moment, I thought that transporting a lamb wouldn't be much different. I was so wrong. Sheep bleat. Sheep bounce. Sheep poop. Lots of sheep poop. I know, I know! That's what I've always said about any kind of farm animal. They poop. But this is going to be a win win situation. She'll eat my grass/weeds and I'll spin her fleece into delightful skeins of yarn with which I will knit even more delightful garments.
Poop be damned, this will work!!
Well, we finally got home. I wrestled her out of the back of the car (sheep wiggle) and got her situated in her pen in the garage. Who knew that with all the crap in my garage that the bleating of a lamb would be so loud (sheep echo). Holy crap! I didn't think about that. I also didn't think about how long it takes a sheep to graze a square yard patch of grass/weeds. I put her out on Sophie's lead for a couple hours yesterday afternoon when it quit raining and let's just say that this is going to take for-freakin'-ever. I might need to go back and get her sister. It's a good thing the tarp is still in the back of my car.
Sophie is none to pleased about the addition of another animal, but I think she has assumed that Flurry is just a small dog who is totally uninterested in smelling butts.
I have taken way too many photos and videos to post here on this blog, so click here for the album. I'll be updating it daily. The video of her bouncing around in the backyard is totally priceless!
For sale or trade: 2 year old LawnBoy lawn mower $123.67 or three 40 pound bags of Sheep Chow and a bale of hay.
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