Alan needs his space

A rainy Saturday afternoon at the 7MSN. Can't remember the last time that happened. Neither could Alan. 

He hates standing around in the barn as much as he hates standing outside getting wet, so he got kind of grumpy. And territorial.

Alan: I am not sharing this stall with you, Lucy. Go away.

Lucy: What. Ever.

Lucy: What in the heck is his problem? This barn is big enough for all of us.

Alan: I was here first.

Alan: Butt out.

Alan: Mom, she's ignoring me!

Me: If you want her to leave, perhaps you should ask her politely. 

Girls are sensitive, you know. You may have hurt her feelings.

Me: I'll hurt something more than that if she keeps crowding me.

Me: Alan, she's not going to budge and you know it.

Her stink-eye is way more effective than your back feet off the ground.

Alan: Why doesn't anybody ever take me seriously?

Me: Maybe because you're so cute when your nostrils flare?

In the end, Alan and Lucy called a truce and waited out the rain.

Feelin' the love

I've mentioned a couple of times over the years that my parents are daily lurkers readers of this blog. While they enjoy the pictures and stories and catching up on the day-to-day adventures of their daughter and four-legged grandchildren, what they enjoy the most is reading your comments. Well, yesterday, you all just sent them right over the top.

My phone rang around 5 p.m. I saw on the caller ID that it was Dad, which was not a good thing because we had just had our weekly call the day before. When your parents are getting up there in years, phone calls outside the regular schedule are cause for alarm. The first thing Mom says is, "I'm exhausted." Mom, what's wrong? "It took so long to get through all those comments! We even missed watching the evening news. Your poor dad...he just kept reading and reading..." (Dad reads the comments aloud to Mom...all that small computer type is hard to see, you know.) Anyway, they were both so tickled by all the wonderful things you all had to say that they had to call and share. So thank you for making their day...and mine, too!

There's still time to enter the getting-to-know-you contest and giveaway. Click here to read about it and enter.

Meantime, I will leave you with this encore post from June 2008, when Mom and Dad came to the 7MSN and met George and Alan for the first time.

***

My parents were visiting the 7MSN last week and got to meet George and Alan up close and personal.

George dished out an abundant supply of hugs...

...and Alan got in on the action, too. What a brave little burro he has become.

But Alan still has a shy streak, and this picture of him peeking out from the middle of the frame just cracks me up.

The getting-to-know-you contest and giveaway

1. Because I never tell you enough how much I appreciate your comments.

2. Because the pasture is growing.

3. Because I haven't had a contest or giveaway here in who knows when.

4. Because the pasture is growing.

5. Because there are a whole bunch of new readers recently who I haven't met. Some of you leave comments and some of you don't (and that's totally cool and I get it and I appreciate you even though you choose to remain on the sidelines).

6. Because seven tenths of an inch of rain fell on the 7MSN this week.

7. Because the faithful readers of this blog are always looking out for me and sending me cool stuff. Like this jaw-dropping, freakin' amazing picture for which there is no background information, but that Sandra sent to me yesterday because she knew I had to see it. Holy moly, I wish I knew the story behind this.

8. Because it might rain again this weekend.

9. Because new reader Peggy directed me to a Groupon for a screaming deal on a gallery-wrapped photo canvas.

10. Because my hay supply might last a month or two longer because of this week's rain.

Yes, because of all of that, I am giving away a 16" x 20" gallery-wrapped photo canvas of the 7MSN image of your choice. Here's the deal:

TO ENTER

Leave a comment on this post telling me and the other readers of this blog something about yourself to help us get to know you.
For example:
– I read your blog in my pajamas while drinking a mug of herbal tea.
– I live in Estonia and don't understand a thing you say but George and Alan are cute.
– I am a vegetarian who happens to like pigs.
Lurkers, this is a free pass to join the 7MSN community. You know you want to. Come on. Don't be shy. We don't bite. Well, except for Clara. She can be a litte aggressive when she's hungry. But I promise to keep her away from you.

THE RULES

One entry per person. No entries after 7 pm Mountain time on Monday, August 1. Winner will be chosen at random and announced Tuesday morning. If you post your comment anonymously, please include your name or initials in the comment so I can identify you if you win.

THE PRIZE

A 16" x 20" gallery-wrapped canvas from CaféPress of your favorite photograph from this blog. If you don't have a favorite or have no inclination to go searching for one, which I totally understand, you can let me know your favorite 7MSN character and I will offer up several options from which to choose.

Good luck!

A welcome sight from any angle

The ripple effect

Funny how a drop of rain can change one's outlook on life, at least temporarily.

We were all starting to worry that Mother Nature had forsaken us. When it doesn't rain for nine months, you start thinking all sorts of crazy things. What if it never rains again? Will the whole state go up in smoke? What if the pasture never sprouts? Will I be able to find enough hay to buy? Will we have to *gasp* move? This is the stuff that has been keeping me awake at night.

So when it finally rained on Sunday, I kept taking pictures. I wanted to be able to reflect upon every steamy, humid detail just in case it's another nine months 'til the next storm.

The rain that finally fell was enough to kick-start the pasture, amen, and I'll swear it's possible to literally watch the grass grow, which means Lucy and the boys are very happy, which means I am very happy, too. Wishing all my friends in Texas and Arizona and every other drought-struck state that the rain and this ripple effect comes their way, too. Soon. Like now.

Handsome under any conditions

Even a layer of mud can't disguise Hank's good looks.

It adds a degree of ruggedness to his persona, don't you think?

Hank: You're not going to let everybody see me like this, are you?

Me: You're so vain. You probably think this blog post's about you.

When it rains, it pours...and I mean that in a good way

It was Sunday afternoon around 3 p.m. I was doing laundry. My exciting life. I heard a strange sound outside. Could it be? Was it possible? Was I hearing raindrops on the roof? The sound went from raindrops to hail in about five seconds. In the few minutes it took me to find the camera and aim it out the window, a stream was running across the corral and through the culvert that Lucy and Ethel built last fall. 
(Not donkey Lucy, the other Lucy – the one that got in all sorts of adventures when her best friend Ethel came to visit.)

Anyway, the water was flowing through the culvert just like I'd hoped prayed it would. This was the first time it had been tested. Let's do the math. Culvert built - October 22, 2010. First time water ran through it - July 24, 2011. That would be nine months without serious rain. There's a joke in there somewhere about giving birth and labor pains but I can't quite find it, so let's move on.

The problem with the picture above is that Hank, George, Alan and Lucy are nowhere in sight. Damnit! I want to be rejoicing and singing in the rain and puddle jumping, but I can't because I don't know the whereabouts of my herd. The last time I saw them was an hour ago as they headed down the path to the back 40.

My brain goes into mom mode: check on the chickens, grab raingear, then go find Lucy and the boys.

Lord have mercy. Have you two learned nothing since the last big storm when you almost drowned and one of you fainted?

Peach: Sure wish we could figure out how to get inside that coop where it's dry.

Clara: Hmm...you'd think there'd be a door around here somewhere.

Me: Your sisters found the door. Why didn't you follow them? I give up. You're on your own.

I headed out toward the barn. 

The rain had eased up a bit and I could stop to admire the culvert doing its job.  

Thank you for helping me build it, Ethel!

Me: Wynonna! It's still raining. What are you doing?

Wynonna: Inspecting the culvert. Want to be sure I can get to the dining room porch when it's time for supper.

Wynonna: Can I at least have a snack for making the trip all the way down here?

Me: No.

The front pasture was one big puddle, with streams replacing the dusty, beaten paths.

Surf's up!

Every puddle brought a smile to my face, knowing the grass might finally begin to grow. 

Now if I could only find my herd. I walked to the end of the back 40 and they were still nowhere in sight. 

I started wondering if they all could swim.

I turned around and headed back to the barn, hoping they would meet me there. 

At one point I looked behind me and much to my delight, there they were, emerging from the trees.

Whew. They all looked fine and no worse for wear. The only thing amiss was Alan's fly mask. 

This would mark the third time in as many days that he managed to lose one. Grrrrr. 

Somebody's not getting his allowance next week.

Me: Hank, you don't have to follow the path, you know.

Hank: I know. I just like the way the water feels when it squishes under my hooves.

Hank: Is that a trout?

By the time we all got back to the barn, an outdoor symphony had started. Coyotes, birds, and who knows what else were singing and carrying on, celebrating the return of rain to our patch of the desert. We all had to stop and drink it in.

George: Music to my ears.

Before I went in the house to pour a celebratory glass of wine dry off, I stopped at the garden to check on the chickens.

Me: You two look madder than a couple of wet hens.

A half inch of rain is nothing to be mad about. Now get over it.

Saturday Encore ~ Bringin' in the herd

Today is National Day of the Cowboy, so it just seems fitting to share this story again, posted originally in June 2009.

I have a confession to make – there's something I haven't told you in all these many posts. I suffer from a chronic condition called punctual-osis, and there is no cure. No matter what the event, how far away it may be, or what the weather, I will arrive on time. Not a few minutes early, not a few minutes late, but ON time. Even if I try to be fashionably late, the fates will intervene and I will be there EXACTLY on time. It's a disease that I've learned to live with.

All of which is to say I arrived at the Carrizozo Cowboy Days round-up on time and was the first truck in the parking lot because, of course, everybody else hit their snooze alarm a few times.




Which was just fine with me because my Chevy got to size up the Dodge that parked next to her and try out her best pick-up lines.

And I had plenty of time to survey the scene and select the best vantage point for the arrival of the cowboys and the herd.

I'm guessing that about 150 cow/calf pairs were rounded up that morning. The cowboys worked slowly and quietly to move the herd into the catch pens. This cowboy was whistling ever so softly to keep the herd moving.

The crew tightened its circle around the herd and patiently waited while all the moms and their babies funneled through the gate. The youngest cowboy in the outfit stood out not only for his youth, but for his fashion sense.





The ranch horses were as quiet and handsome as the cowboys. They'd all been there and done that many times before, lived to tell about it, and had the scars to prove it.





What I will remember most about the round-up are the sounds and the biscuits and gravy. And the handsome cowboys. I can't begin to describe the symphony of moos. It was a loud and constant roar as the moms and babies called out until they found each other.






The round-up was held at the Spencer family's Bar W Ranch just north of Carrizozo. The current generation of Spencers is headed up by this cowboy. It was truly an honor to watch him work and lead his crew.  

Carrizozo's Cowboy Days are a celebration of cowboy culture, and I don't think you could find a better example of the breed.