Ireland

For reasons unknown to me, I have always dreamed of Ireland. The randomness of when these urges strike me are enough to throw me off balance, always.

I am in love with their accents. I melt at the lovely ways that they speak. The landscapes, the weather, the moodiness of it all...



Ultimately, I am a natural born hick. I'm horses and cows and hunting and moose and woods. I'm Camo and Cabela's and fishing and agriculture and that's just always who I've been. But for as long as I can remember, I have always felt a pull at the very thought of Ireland.



Now, I'm not much of a traveler. I never have been. I love the states and have never really had any urge to leave. I love Minnesota, I love the fields and the forests and the wildlife. I've never been a beach bum. I dont flinch at the idea of spending long vacations in the poconos or Jamaica or wherever. If I did, I'd go live in Florida or California. Nor do I have a feel for the fast city life. I will never reside in New York or Seattle or Boston. I'm not a fashion monger, I could care less about current trends, and dont ever plan on stepping foot in Paris or Milan.

There truely is no where else in the world that I would choose to be.

Until I start thinking about Ireland. And I dont know what it is. I have spent years trying to put my finger on it. Mostly I ignore it. I'm not a flyer. I've never been on a plane and I'm not in a hurry to do so, either.

But I cant help but wonder what it would be like to be there, in Ireland, experiencing it all.. On a huge, lush, green, misty hill that goes on forever. Yielding only to the cliffs that drop down into the sea. The rarity of the sun there. The swirling fog, the silverey clouds. There is something there that's got its hook in me, and it wont let go. I feel attached to it.



I've never been there. I dont know anybody who's ever been there. I haven't seen any movies that are set there. I have read a book though. And while it may have something to do with it, I highly doubt this book is the reason Ireland fills my dreams at night. For years.



So what is going on?? I haven't the foggiest. To my knowledge, I dont have any distant relatives there. I have no links or connections to Ireland in any way that I am aware of.

Maybe I need to just go. Maybe I need to swallow my fears, load my butt onto a plane, and go see this place that my dreams are telling me to find.

Hmmm... I wonder if Red would ever consider honeymooning in Ireland...

It's a Boy!

Congrats to my boss, Julie, and her hubby on the birth of their son
Lane!!

Born 7-29-08 at 10:38pm
Weighing 8 pounds 2 ounces
20.75 inches long
Baby and Mom are doing great.

Welcome to the world, Lane!

Coffeehouse Redneck

I've got a new obsession. And while I didnt really realize it was an obsession until recently, I do know that it's been a few years in the making. I was never much of a coffee drinker. In high school, them preppy girls would bring their Starbucks styrofoam cups of coffee in with them every morning and I just didnt get it. I drank water. And Dr. Pepper. I'd tried my parents coffee before and I couldnt quite develop a taste.

Then, I started sitting in on calving and foaling nights. All night up in a barn, doing nothing, without the option of sleeping. I remember the first time I sat in on a foaling... My girlfriend Ashley's mare was about to give birth, and she had been a mare in the past whom generally had difficult births. Her parents had sat in the night before, and being this was a Friday, the ask Ash and I to take over.

A few hours in, we were struggling. Ash's ma brought us mugs of coffee. Plain, black coffee. So I drank it. And I've been addicted every since. And I've always taken my coffee just the same... hot and black. Nothing fancy. But then after high school and a brief jaunt experimenting with Cappuchino, I discovered creamer. And from the creamer I went to Expresso. And on and on and on. Then I started a desk job. And sit down, 9 hour a day desk job. And I realized at that moment on my second day why my parents loved their coffee so much. (By the way, my dad makes a perfectly balaced pot of coffee.. Balanced meaning strong. Super strong. Its gotta be strong if you're going to drink it black)



All that was over 3 years ago.. Now, I cant function without my morning pot of java. Don't freak out, I dont drink a whole pot. Well, yeah I actually sometimes do, but my coffee maker is one of those little 5 cup pots and Red drinks half of that before my feet even hit the floor.

How about Starbucks with their oh so yummy Frappuchinos? And McDonalds with their new Iced Coffees? And Monster Energy with their coffee flavored energy drinks? You just cant go wrong with coffee, folks. Even if you think you don't like it, there is a coffee out there that would suck you into this coffeehouse world so fast you wouldnt even know which coffee bean hit you.

There are so many things you can do with coffee! Its incredible! I'm still generally a hot and black type of gal. Occassionally I will snazz it up with a bit of creamer. But here at work, its all black baby. Strong, hot, black coffee... Gotta go git some.

Love Em

Holsteins & Guernseys

Aha! I have finally managed to scrounge up some pictures from my fair days. Not that any of you will know what I'm talking about, since my whole identity lies back at freewebs. But I dont care! We will learn to navigate this together. Who's with me. Anybody? Really nobody? C'mon!

Moving on. Meet Alexa:

Miss Alexa was my very first heifer. Shes a beautiful barely year old Holstein. And I loved her. A heifer, for those of you who are clueless when it comes to things bovine, is a calf who hasnt yet had a baby. I used to sleep on this girl. In between shows, her and I would be so exhausted. So she would lay down and I would curl up next to her and use her for a pillow. I think she enjoyed it. Life for a cow is anything but fun during fair week. They sit there, or in the heat, they lay there, for 7 entire days. The only way they get to move is to A: Get up really early and be milked. Which in Alexa's case, wasnt an option given her age. B: Get up really early and be bathed. This was daily. She was scrubbed, bathed, polished, shaved... Every day. Or C: Show. And none of these tasks are particularly pleasent, for anybody involved. Its cold at 4am, even in August. And lining up at the wash stocks next to 5 other cows and spraying soap and freezing cold water everywhere doesn't help matters

Here are the rest of the girls. Gosh, this had to be back in... Oh I am going to say about 1999.



I dont remember their names now almost a decade later. But I know that orange Guernsey there is Jolene. And I remember because my beautiful soon to be sister in law is also named Jolene, and her hair is about this exact shade of red. Such a pretty color!

Here is some of the old crew. I grew up with these people. They are all hicks. They are all dairy people. They are all aweome with a capital A. I adore every one of them. Except that punk in the white tshirt looking away. But we wont go there.

And lastly, my horse. He's not mine now. But he will always be mine in my heart. Doc is the buckskin gelding I am always raving about. This horse can do no wrong. Even here in the show ring. When during every showmanship event we entered together, he would stop in the middle of my pattern, and piss. And it wasnt a quicky thing. It wasnt a pee that I could jiggle the halter and get him moving again. This was an all out, sprawled wide, 2 minute pee. There was no moving Doc during his pee session. And while I was pretty pissed at the time... I can only laugh about it now.
I am the tall person in the dark green slinky shirt, tan pants and tan hat. And that handsome dude I'm holding is Doc.



Ohhhh how I miss the days.

Love Em

Computer Illiteracy

Due the vast failure of the site hosting my last blog, I have finally decided to join the rest of society here at blogspot. And I look forward to it. Well, I dont look forward to the time and effort that will be required to move everything from there to here. However when its finished and when I can finally understand how to navigate this dadgum site, I am sure I will be a happy woman. I think. Right?

Love Em

Kuma

My apologies for my long time away. But I have been busy searching for those fair pictures! I cant find them for the life of me!But you wont have to wait much longer.. Because I have been invited to prep and show this year! Horses!! Eek!I will be working the old crew, most of the original horses, and a few new ones. I can WAIT! You all have no idea of the excitement this brings about in me.
On a different note, I have resigned from Dogs Deserve Better. I am sad about it, but due to some recent drama added to the stress of running a dog rescue, I need to get out. Temporarily at least. Red is happy with the decision.. Of course.

Currently we only have Kuma here at home. Kuma is a 100lb Malamute whom I'd pulled from a local humane society last winter, they were going to euth him soley because of his size. "Nobody will ever adopt a dog that big!" they said. So I grabbed him up. The couple who adopted him have returned him, through no fault of his own, and while he is now locked into MinnKota Mal rescue, we are fostering him until he is adopted.
Kuma is a gorgeous Malamute by the way. See for yourself!



Kuma is a big dog. Big, big dog. The photo does not do justice to the sheer size and width of this dog.
Kuma does not get along well with Mizz Frankie. He likes to throw his weight around, because... well... he can. And he outweighs poor Frankie by a good 70lbs or so. She squats down and pees out of sheer terror if Kuma even looks at her.

And who in their right mind would want to hurt this precious hunk of merle love?!


Certainly not me. Bad Kuma! Jake tries.... But he fails.


Any "Friends" fans out there??

""Frankie say Relax!""

Love Em

County Fair

Fair time is fast approaching. And while my little town of residence holds the largest Independance Day parade in southern MN, my hometown, where I grew up, holds one of the largest county fairs in the state. And I am dang proud of it.
So as the time approaches, I am fondly flipping through my county fair memory Rolodex... Nobody loves the fair quite like I do. And not because of the food and the games and the rides. And not even because of the beer gardens. I havent actually even been to the beer gardens since I've been old enough to drink.
No, I love the fair because of my past there. Because literally, my happiest memories of later childhood happened right there at the county fair. I used to show livestock. And actually just 2 years ago I was still showing horses there. I grew up showing horses and my favorite, dairy. Yup, dairy cattle. I remember having to learn all of the different anatomy points, and making sure that I knew my heifer's dam and sire's name, because in showmanship, the judge would ask. And I'm sad to say that I have completely forgotten most of the anatomy points. Except for the 'pins'. Anybody, ask me where the 'pins' are on a holstein heifer. And I can tell you without hesitation!
I remember having to go in the night before the start of the fair week, decorating the stalls and the cattle barns with the farms colors. Spending all summer working with my heifers so they would walk nicely in the ring. Spending all summer working the horses I would be showing. The sweat, the blood, the grime.. The happiness. I was in 4H and FFA. I got to work the 4H food stand. No, wait, I HAD to work in the 4H food stand. I think its a requirement. Working along side my friend Brianna.. Boy me and that girl could fight! But we were best friends. Not very many people get to experience the behind the scenes of showing livestock. And while I'm not marrying the horse rancher or dairy farmer I had once thought I would be, I will be damned sure my kids exerpience 4H. My kids better not grow up as city slickers. Dreaming of flitting off to Chicago or New York to join the ballet or opera. Sure, I will raise them to be whatever they aspire to be. But I hope they take on the same passion for agriculture that I have. Because if I were given the chance to go back and live one week of the country fair that I did when I was 16, I would snap it up in a minute. The friends I made... The experiences I was given.
Thank you mom and dad for allowing me to be the hick I always was at heart. I am pretty sure they have no idea where I came from. I was kind of the country alien of the family. All of my sisters are city geeks. They love clothes and makeup and hair and all that fancy stuff. And they should, they are all beyond gorgeous! They are pretty laid back in the sense that all of them love a good weekend on the lake or a good family trip in the woods... They will get dirty with the best of them. But not one of them, to my knowledge, has a biting, scratching need to be in the dirt and the grime of farm or ranch living. I want to bail hay! In fact, I LOVE bailing hay! I love cleaning tack. I love cleaning barns. I have a deep passion for throwing around horse and cow manure. I want old, rusty trucks and big old barns. I want fields. I dont even care whats in them. I want to go to the fair. I want back what I got to have in high school. But I'm young yet, and I have a life to build. And when Red and I are ready, we will be in the country.
And then I'll stop tormenting him with dogs! Ha! And I'll replace those dogs with horses and cattle! Just a couple of beef steers or something, just to have them there. Think he'd let me do that? His momma and sister tell me about the days when they had some cattle way back when. He secretly wants that again.. Right Red? Red? RED! Dammit, he ran away again.
So anyways, come August, why do you all join us at the county fair! I can promise you the time of your life. Tonight I will scrounge my albums and post some of my pictures from a decade ago when I showed animals at the fair. You're gonna love it!
Love Em