A dusty dose of Hank

When I focus on Hank and how handsome he looks in the New Mexico twilight, 

I can almost take my mind off how dry the pasture is...

...and how it hasn't rained or snowed since the end of February.

It's got to rain eventually, doesn't it?

I will choose to look at the bright side.

Dust is easier to remove than mud.

There's no danger of the tires getting sucked off the truck the next time I go to town.

I don't have to worry about Hank slipping and falling on the dust.

And these pictures wouldn't have been nearly as nice had it been raining.

George finally wakes up and does his morning stretches

George: I suppose I'll get up now... but only because everybody out there is watching me

and making me feel like a slacker.

Just give me a minute to shake out the cobwebs...

...and yawn a little bit.

Okay... on the count of three:

One...

Two...

Three.

I could say that I'm refreshed and ready to face the day, but that would be stretching the truth.

 I hope I don't get stretch marks.

I'm not a morning burro by any stretch of the imagination.

The unbearable cuteness of burros

It was 5:30 Tuesday morning. I had just let Smooch outside and was standing in my office brushing my teeth, 

looking out the window to make sure everybody was present and accounted for. I saw four long ears behind a bush. 

The ears were so close together that they appeared to be coming out of the same head. I wasn't sure what was going on, 

but the scene had "photo op" written all over it. I put down the toothbrush, grabbed the camera, and tiptoed into the corral.

George: Zzzzzzzzz.

George: Are you kidding me?

George: Sun's not even up and she's already taking pictures.

Alan: I haven't combed my hair yet. Neither have you, I might add. Nice outfit *snort*.

Alan: I'll get up now, but that coffee had better be ready.

Alan: You have no idea how heavy his head is.

George: Please don't move. I was just getting comfortable.

Wynonna: *grunt grunt grunt *

Alan: How can you sleep through that racket? The pig's not shutting up 'til she gets fed.

George: I hate it when you're right.

George: Five more minutes, then I'll get up.

How many times will George hit the snooze alarm? Find out tomorrow when we conclude our story.

Here's a blog you might want to check out in the meantime. 

Hannah and her donkey, Chico, have just embarked on a 1,000-mile, three-month walk around Wales.

It sounds like a fabulous adventure and one I could see myself doing if I could find a ranchsitter for that long.
Hannah writes, "I have no prior experience of donkeys, but I like walking.
It's only 1000 miles – how hard can it be?" Guess we'll find out!

Miss Pouty Face

I love three-day weekends, except for the part where I collapse in a heap on the evening of the third day. 

By last night, I was chored out, ridden out and tired out. All I could do was park myself in a chair and let the herd come to me.

Lucy was the first to greet me. No surprise there.

 She's a sponge for love and attention.

So is Hank.

Hank: Move over. My turn.

Lucy: I'll get out of the way ... but not before putting on my best pouty face.

By the light of the moon

The moonlight was so bright this weekend, I was compelled to go out and play in the dark.

I don't spend nearly enough time outside at night as I should. 

I might stargaze for a few minutes when I make my final trip to the barn before I go to bed, but that's it, which is a shame

because nighttime is probably the best time to be outside in the summer – no bugs, no wind, no heat.

And now, I don't even have to worry about mice running across my path and startling me. 

Johnny: Coming through...pardon me...on a mission...gotta keep the place rodent free.

I'm amazed at how quickly the rodent population has diminished in the general vicinity of the house and barn.

It's not like JohnnyCashCat is leaving a path of dead vermin in his wake – it's more like the word is out

that a fierce feline has moved in so the mice and packrats have moved to safer grounds. Amen.

Getting a barn cat was definitely the right move rodent-wise. 

But that whole sermon I preached to myself about not getting attached? Epic fail.

You: I told you so.

Saturday encore ~ Up, up and away

Last Memorial Day weekend, my pal Denise (Ethel) was visiting and we went hot-air ballooning. 

I don't have anything nearly as exciting planned for this holiday weekend, so I'll re-post our adventure for a vicarious thrill. 

***

When my buddy Denise was planning her trip to New Mexico, I sent her a link with all sorts of activities in the area and asked her 

if she'd like to do or see anything in particular. She said, "how about hot-air ballooning?" I said, "how about it?" 

In the 19+ years I've lived in the ballooning capital of the universe, I had never been, and it was about time.

3:30 a.m., to be specific. That is when we had to leave the 7MSN to be at the launch site for liftoff. 

Even for a morning person like myself, that was painful, but oh so worth it.

A lot of work is involved to inflate a big balloon, and volunteers are recruited from the passenger list to lend a hand. 

Denise and I jumped at the chance to hold the balloon as giant fans blew air into the opening.

This guy with the video camera? You're going to be seeing a lot of him. I'll explain in a minute.

Once the balloon is filled with air, the pilot turns on the propane burners to heat the air 

and make it rise above the ground. Or something like that. The combination of several giant blow torches 

and a ginormous piece of fabric seems like a bad idea, but it works.

That's our pilot, standing in the basket, speaking to one of the ground crew on the left.

And there's that pesky videographer again. What's up with him?

The ground crewman graciously took pictures with our cameras so we would have souvenirs.

I don't know if his composition was intentional, but I'm liking the whole balloon-growing-out-the-head look.

Bye-bye, ground crew! You can let go of the ropes now. 

The balloon lifted off so smoothly and quietly that it took a few moments to realize that 

the ground crew was getting smaller and smaller and we were on our way.

About five other balloons took off from the same area at the same time. It felt like we were part of a mini balloon fiesta. 

You've all heard of the famous Albuquerque International Balloon Fiesta, right? It happens every year in October. 

Anywhere from 500 to 1,000 balloons take off together every morning for a week. It's really quite spectacular.

Here is a picture looking down over the edge of the basket. 

For the record, I did not lose my hat, my glasses, or my camera over the side.

Now about that videographer... Ever hear of the PBS series called The Aviators? Me, neither. 

But they are shooting episodes for season three, which will air this fall. 

Of all the balloon rides in all the world, The Aviators crew walked into ours. What are the odds of that?

They shot every second of our adventure, from the ground preparation through the final champagne celebration.

I'll let you know when the episode is scheduled. Denise and I were both wearing 7MSN Ranch baseball caps, so it will be hard to miss us.
(Here's a link to Lucy and Ethel make their debut on PBS.)

The ride lasted about an hour and fifteen minutes. 

We flew high above the Rio Grande, meandering wherever the winds took us.

This picture was taken by a fellow passenger early in the flight, when it was just a bit chilly. 

By the time we landed, scarves, jackets and every other removable layer had been removed. It was hot.

From the ground, Albuquerque may not be the most beautiful place on earth, but from a balloon? It's impressive.

I loved looking down over the exquisite horse farms along the river.

There is so much balloon traffic over this area that I'm sure the horses have grown quite accustomed to the sights 

and sounds of the balloons. Have I mentioned how loud those propane burners are? 

The noise isn't constant though - the pilot turns them on and off to control the altitude. 

If there is a downside to ballooning it is the noise of the burners. I hate noise.

It would have been great fun to fly over the 7MSN, but it's about 75 miles from this spot, 

way back there under the smokey haze.

That tiny shadow in the middle of the picture above? That's from our balloon.

I may not have been able to fly over the ranch, but I did get the opportunity to fly over 

the house I lived in when I moved to Albuquerque in 1993. That's it down in the lower right.

I see the new owners added on a sun room and got a new roof.

Hot-air ballooning is alot like Google Earth, only better. But louder.

When it's time to land, the pilot opens the flap at the top of the balloon, 

then the basket gently lowers to the ground.

Then everybody pitches in to stuff 650 pounds of fabric back into the bag. 

With the chores done, the pilot poured champagne and orange juice for us, 

and we raised our glasses as he spoke this Irish Balloonists' Prayer:

The winds have welcomed you with softness. 
The sun has blessed you with his warm hands. 
You have flown so high and so well 
that God has joined us together in laughter 
and set us gently back into the loving arms of Mother Earth.