Hank in the springtime

 

The bunny lives to see another day

 Me: Psst...Bunny...look out!

 Bunny: Did they notice me?

 Me: Probably not, seeing as how you're still alive.

 Bunny: Crap. Here they come.

*ominous music*

The camouflage worked and the bunny lives on.

Hail hail the gang's all here

Just as I walked back into the stall where Hank and his herd were waiting out the storm, 

lightning struck the ground somewhere in the vicinity of the front gate. 

We all jumped pretty high. Torn between wanting to run for their lives and not wanting to be

 pummeled by hail, the herd elected to stampede in place. It was tense but nobody got hurt.

I hadn't seen any flames or sparks, so I was pretty sure the lightning hadn't hit the power pole 

or the electric lines. But the second I walked into the house, I wasn't so sure ... 

I smelled fried wiring. I went from room to room, trying to identify the source of the smell. 

The power was still on and most things electrical still worked...how bad could it be? 

What I couldn't figure out was why the electricity worked in some rooms and not others. 

Then I remembered my dad talking about GFI outlets – maybe I should check those? 

Sure enough, they had all tripped and needed to be reset.

So now we're about an hour post-lightning strike. Everything works except 

the garage door opener, the washer, the dryer, and three outlets in the kitchen. 

And I still smelled fried wiring. But there wasn't any smoke...how bad could it be?

It was a tense weekend, waiting for the fried wiring smell to get worse or go away. 

I'm happy to report it went away. Based on where the smell was the strongest, I'm guessing 

it's related to the three outlets that aren't working. The electrician who wired the house originally 

is coming out later in the week to investigate.

Professor Google told me that garage door openers are usually the first things to fry 

in a "proximity lightning strike," and the Genie man confirmed that when I called him on Monday. 

A new circuit board is on its way.

The appliance repairman will be here Wednesday to diagnose the washer and dryer. 

I've got enough clean underwear to get me through the week. Not a problem.

I filed a claim with my insurance company – with any luck, all of these repair bills

will be covered. Even if they're not, I consider myself lucky. 

Nobody got hurt, the house is still standing, and best of all – it rained!

A sewing machine

When I announced last week that the sunroom would be getting a makeover, many of you 

were surprised that a) I had a sewing machine and b) I could sew. True story. I used to sew a lot, 

as in made my own clothes when a) I had no money and b) I wore something besides jeans. 

I was never good enough to apply for Project Runway, but I could usually make it work.

Anyway, I can't remember the last time I used my sewing machine, or my iron, 

but the dining room has been turned into a sewing room for the past two weekends. 

Stick a fork in me. I'm finally done.

Smooch was confused by the entire process, as was I for most of the time.

I followed this online tutorial for making a tailored daybed cover.

It was going very well until the "hand stitch the cotton cording to the fabric" part.

I underestimated the time this would take by about 13 hours.

In the end, the effort paid off. 

The indoor/outdoor fabric was easy to work with, and I'm reasonably certain

that the cushion and pillow covers will withstand the sunlight, the dog hair, and the dirt.

Smooch's head is still spinning from my fabric choices, but she'll get over it.

The colors and patterns are bright enough to lighten a rainy, overcast day,

which is the only reason I was able to finish all of this yesterday.

"But what of those feed sacks?" you ask. 

I made this pillow cover last...

... once I'd figured out the piping with zipper thing.

All the previous pillow covers had one or the other.

Pretty sweet.

Saturday encore ~ Lucy makes funny faces in front of a pretty sky

 Lucy can be such a silly girl.

 She loves to laugh,

which makes me laugh.

I'm guessing you might be laughing, too.

 

How about now?

Random ranch portraits

At least it's not cholla

 This is a picture of a burro up to no good.

 He, of course, disagrees with me and sees no harm in de-barking the branches of this juniper tree.

 Neither does George...

 ...nor Lucy.

 There are so many trees around here that I'm not concerned

if any of them are harmed from de-barkation.

 It's the principle of the thing. I suppose I should stop whining 

and be thankful that they're not chomping cholla.

This is a picture of a burro feeling a tiny bit guilty that his behavior has displeased me.

George and Alan come around to Lucy's way of thinking

 

What comes after gargantuan?

My chickens continue to confound and astound. 

Let's review the astounding part first.

You may remember their previous record-holding eggs.

Here's the latest.

I've run out of superlatives.

Unless you're a chicken-keeper, a 3-and-7/8-ounce egg may not mean much,

so let me offer up Exhibit A,

which might be more appropriately named Exhibit BFE.

I don't know why this happens. Perhaps it's their daily diet, which consists of 

a few cups of chicken scratch, free-choice access to laying crumbles,

and various assorted kitchen scraps.

Here is a recent sampling of their snacks.

If you were a chicken, which would you prefer?

I was confounded by their choice of the wrinkly raw potato.

They ate the guts right out of it, ignoring the aged carrot and petrified frosty mini-wheats.

They also get an assortment of meat products, which they and/or JohnnyCashCat 

hunt down in the front yard. I try not to look too closely when they're being carnivores

 and am frequently surprised by what turns up in the pictures.

***warning...graphic image ahead***

Carolynn, Sigfrid, don't go there.

I'm quite sure Minnie is responsible for this week's record-breaking egg, 

so perhaps all the extra protein had something to do with it.

I'm still waiting to take delivery on three new chickens (two Ameraucanas and one Welsummer).

I can only hope that they don't succumb to peer pressure when it comes to their eating habits.