Show-offs

George and Alan were in rare form Monday morning.

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They chased each other around the corral, kicking up dust everywhere they went.

Alan did most of the chasing this time...

...and he debuted a new move that would be the envy of any professional wrestler.

There was a nip in the morning air, which probably contributed to their playfulness.

Then Alan got his foot stuck in a cone, which added to the frenzy.

But the main reason for all their showing off?

They were jealous that their new best friend was paying attention to someone else.

When in Rome, do as the Romans...

...and when at the 7MSN, do as the 7MSNans? It doesn't have quite the same ring to it, but you know what I mean.

Our weekend guest may be a city girl, but she fit right in 7 miles south of nowhere. She certainly didn't mind getting dirty filthy or being the filling in a George and Hank sandwich.



She was out in the corral bright and early to capture the boys in their most flattering light.


She didn't mind at all when Hank interrupted her photo shoot.


And she gave the big guy more than his share of love and attention.


She was as fascinated with the neighborhood as am I.


She got to meet some other famous longears during her visit.


And she was in the right place at the right time to capture the rumored chain of grooming love.

We can only hope our guest enjoyed her visit as much as we did.

Behind the Scenes at the 7 MSN

Hi Carolynn here, aka A Glowing Ember. As some of you know, I've been visiting Linda and her herd for the last couple of days and she asked me if I'd stop by here and say a few words.

I know you've come over here to see her, so why don't I share a few things about her with you that you may not already know.

She gets up at dawn every day and attends to the needs of her herd before making her morning cup of coffee, taken with half & half and a tsp. of sugar in a 7 MSN mug, of course.

Her animals are all extremely laid back and adore her. Smooch can be a little excitable but it's all very well intentioned and, after all, she has a very important job to do watching over the place.

In fact, Smooch spent the night on a comfortable chair in my bedroom last night. I'm not sure if she was keeping me company or keeping an eye on me. I'd prefer to think it was because she enjoys my company that much. It's mutual, I assure you.

Linda is very self-sufficient and takes everything in stride.

She tells me it's a family tradition to try out new recipies on house guests. She's an excellent cook and everything she's tested on served me not only smells delicious, but tastes wonderful, too.

She refers to the job she left in Washington D.C. as her "real" job because she loves what she's doing now so much that it doesn't feel like work. Would that we were all that fortunate...

She's adventerous and loves to explore. She also loves her neighbourhood and is proud to show off its many and varied highlights. (Just as an aside, I'll be sharing more about our adventures over at my place when I get back home.)

She hasn't met a jalapeno pepper she doesn't like and she makes a wicked margarita.

She thanks her chickens, by name, every time they lay an egg for her.

She won't reveal her middle name to anyone, even after several adult beverages and a great deal of peer pressure. Trust me. She's not givin' it up.

Every spring, she makes sure there's lots of mud around the water trough so the swallows will have enough to do house repairs on their nests.Linda is a woman after my own heart and most respects those people who care about the welfare of animals. She prefers her own company and that of her herd to most creatures of the two-legged variety, so, I'm extremely honoured that she has so graciously opened her home to me and made me feel so incredibly welcome.

Alan has a question

A few of you have caught on that Carolynn from A Glowing Ember will soon be arriving at the 7MSN. We are all very excited to finally meet in person someone we've known only through pixels. Smooch and the cats totally know that something is brewing. Let them tell you how many times I've rearranged the guest room, trying to make everything just right. And you should have seen George's and Alan's eyes light up when I told them there would be an extra pair of hands around to scratch them. Anyway, don't be surprised if I'm absent for a few days. And also don't be surprised if I have a guest blogger send you a postcard or something...if I can get her away from the boys and Wynonna long enough to come inside.

In a soft light

Just when I think all my pictures start looking the same, Mother Nature pulls this light out of her bag of tricks.

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Paying it forward

It's itchy season. We've all just about had it with the bugs. We're doing our best to cope by scratching each other's itches. I scratch Hank, Hank scratches George, George scratches Alan...



...and Alan stands at the end of the line looking adorable.

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I have no picture to show you of the complete grooming chain, but this might help you get the idea:



I really should enlist someone to photograph this scene, as it must be seen to be believed. As it happens, a very special guest will be visiting the 7MSN this weekend who is pretty handy with a camera. Maybe I can enlist her?

Set in concrete

I received an e-mail over the weekend from a reader who had a question that she thought was too boring to put in the comments: "What is the floor of your house made of?" I didn't think it was a boring question at all because it gave me the opportunity to wax poetic about my floor just as I was, well, waxing my floor.


The floor of my house is stained concrete – it's the actual concrete slab on which the house is built, stained to this pretty color. A brightener was added to the concrete as the slab was poured, then the builder applied the stain. I had him score the concrete to look like tile - 12" squares in the dining room and kitchen and 24" squares in the living room. Each of the other rooms is scored 6" from the baseboards, more or less to define the spaces.


As the house has settled, a few cracks have appeared, which are to be expected. I think they add character and charm. I keep hoping that grass will eventually sprout through the cracks. Imagine what a conversation piece that would be.


I love my floor. It may be my single most favorite part of the house. It has texture and irregularity. It is indestructible. It is energy efficient because of its geothermal mass, whatever that is. It is pretty.


My stained concrete floor is also very easy to clean, if you're into that sort of thing. Which I'm not. Pick the right color and the dirt doesn't even show. Every couple of years, you're supposed to "reseal" it. Concrete is very porous so the sealant protects the surface. I spent most of Friday doing this chore. The resealing part was easy, the moving out all of the furniture part - not so much. But in the process, I fell in love with my floor all over again. It looks shiny and brand new.

And now the dust bunnies tumble ever so much faster across the surface.

Sometimes, you just get lucky

It was Saturday morning. The boys weren't doing anything particularly photogenic, so I went over to the garden to see what the girls were up to. I sat down on the edge of the raised flower bed, and Clara came right over to have her picture taken.

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What do you think? Is this my best side?

Maybe the folks at home would prefer me to look straight at them...

Wait...I think my comb looks better from this side.

Let's just say Clara is going to give Wynonna a run for her money in the diva department.

A split second after I took the picture above, all three girls spooked and ran for their coop. I heard wings flapping, then a large shadow fell over the garden. With the camera still attached to the front of my face, I looked up and pressed the shutter.

I fired off one more shot before he flew away.

Right place, right time, right light, right camera settings. Sometimes, you just get lucky.

Saturday encore ~ And the winner for cutest ass is...

When I'm picking an old post for a Saturday encore, I typically start looking at the posts I wrote on the same date a year ago. And one year ago, look who I was writing about ... the first donkey to make his home at Morning Bray Farm. My, how things have changed in the last 12 months! Now MBF has four longears and a blog of their own. But the more things change, the more things stay the same...like the recipe for the margarita pictured below. If you're thirsty, you might want to click here.


Before I arrived at Justina's farm on Saturday, I'd heard vicious rumors that her new donkey, Bernard, was cuter than George and Alan. "Impossible," I scoffed under my breath.


Ok, I was wrong.


Just a year old, Bernard is still learning his manners.


He may not know it yet, but Bernard is living in paradise, where paradise equals an irrigated pasture, which he currently shares with three pygmy goats and two sheep. Another donkey will be added to the mix soon.


Yep, Bernard is one lucky donkey.


And so smart...he knows a good margarita when he smells one.

Ouch

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George and Alan play Twister

I looked out my office window the other evening to see Alan and George doing something new.



I'm pretty sure they were playing Twister. You remember Twister, don't you? The game where you spin the dial to learn which appendage to place on which color dot? And no, I'm not talking about the strip version you might have played in college that involved beer.

It looked to me like Alan had just put both feet on blue, while George was all tangled up in the yellow and red dots.

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Alan: Come on, mom, lose the camera and get over here and play with us.

Alan: Don't look now, Zorro, but I think we've got this in the bag.

Alan: Hey, no fair cheating. Put your hoof back where it belongs.

Hank: Child's play...will they ever grow up?

Alan: Umm, Hank...you're messing up our game here. Could you move over, please?

Alan: First you don't want to play, now you do want to play...make up your mind!

Hank: Back it up, Burrito.

Alan: Yes, sir, Hank. Whatever you say, Hank. I am not worthy.

Alan (under his breath): The guy has no manners. Does he have to scratch his butt right there?

The Porcine Princess is far too noble to get involved in the silly games of her subjects.