The phone call that changed my young life

The story goes like this:

The phone rings a couple of times and a very sleepy little girl answers. She hears her Daddy say, "Hello Amy, it's a boy!" Eventhough Amy had been planning on naming her "sister" April, she says, "Just what I always wanted!" That was my first lie to my parents that I can remember...unfortunately not my last.

Anyhow, while I love my brother like no other adult on the planet, that was the last day of my being an only child. Not only was he another kid, he was a BOY! A little white haired, brown eyed, fearless carrier of the family name. He was celebrated and the toys began. He had die cast farm equipment that I would have killed for. He had tractors, combines, trucks, plows, cultivators, you name it, he had it. He even had a big peddle tractor just like Daddy's... what a rip.

David got to go to the farm and ride on whatever Dad happened to be using, the tractor or combine. Lots of farming is driving the tractor, etc. and can be very boring. Anyhow, David would beg to go with Dad - Mama and I would wait 10 minutes and then head for the farm. As soon as we got there Dad would meet us at the end of the row to hand David off. David would have gone to sleep before the first turn and Dad would have had to hold him in the tractor with one hand and drive with the other! LOL! It NEVER failed!

Who would have ever dreamed that the sleepy little farmer would grow into such a wonderful man. That baby born 37 (OMG!) years ago today has grown into a 6'5" broad sholdered man. The white blond hair has turned darker and grayer. He can now stay awake to pilot jet airplanes and farms for fun on the weekends and summer. He and his lovely and talented wife, Reagan have indeed carried on the family name and will continue to do so (Daddy and I are hoping anyway).

And, while it took about 25 years, I eventually got over not being the only child. I'm still competing but he gave up so it's not quite so much fun anymore. He STILL has more toys than I do, twerp.

The Big Trip

While planning the big trip from Arizona to the Y2K, I can't help wondering how the folks on the wagon trains did it. How in the world did those women pack the animals and the kids and food, clothes, books, canned goods, etc. into a covered wagon and travel across the country?

Shoot, I'm stressed and I have leather interior, a magnificent a/c and a 6 CD changer. My husband has generously supplied me with a piece of shiney plastic enabling me to buy beef jerky, Tootsie Pops, caffine and gas without having to even see one cent of currency.

If I had to make camp every night, gather wood, make a fire, cook food, etc. without a shower, well does the phrase "cold day in hell" mean anything to you? Screw the west. I would have just had to tough it out in the East and Mainfest Destiny may have never taken place.

This drive is just torture. I swear I had never heard of Van Horn, Texas before my first drive out. I wish I still handn't heard. Not that Van Horn's not a nice town, it is for the most part. It's just that the entire area is ssooooo desolate. AAAHHHH! I swear that on the last trip out I got caught up in some funky time warp deal and I drove for days without the scene changing one little bit. By some shift in the cosmos I finally broke free and made it to Big Spring.

As a result of this alternate timeline, I decided that on the return trip I would NOT be driving home via ElPaso but would cut across scenic New Mexico to the lovely town of Roswell and across. Somehow during the trip we drove through Lincoln, NM and saw a bunch of stuff about Billy the Kid. I was really thrilled. Frankie and the dogs weren't too impressed, i.e. no McDonalds in sight. If you haven't been, go. It's really lovely and very interesting.

By the time we finally got home my butt was sore and Frankie was swearing he was never leaving Arizona house again! LOL! Yet, here we plan on going again next week. Will wonders never cease.

I haven't decided how we'll go this time. All I know is that we WILL go. There's alot of work to be done on the farm. Something's gettin my chickens and I can't have that. Not to mention, the farm's calling my name, I can hear it loud and clear. Oh no wait, it's not the farm, it's the Rednecks...my mistake.

Yall come see us now, 'ya hear?

Ode to Dog Love

I'm new to this blogging thing and while I tried to post a similar blog last night, I can't seem to find it...yeah really. Anyhow, if YOU see it, you can disregard this one.

Yesterday I had to have my little Chihuhua Mickey put to sleep. He was 13, had no teeth and major breathing problems. While I had talked about this for a long time, and thought I was fully prepared, I was shocked at how much it really hurt.

Mickey had been my constant companion for 10 years. He was a "one woman" dog and with the exception of my son Frankie, believed all others were here to do me bodily harm. His love was unconditional. That's such a miracle to me because frankly humans don't have this for each other with the exception of family.

I guess my question is why do dogs love us? We don't "deserve" it. We love them certainly but not unconditionally...not the way they are devoted to us.

While I will probably get another dog down the line, I will never be able to replace Mickey's love and utter devotion. I wouldn't even want to try. He was my beloved little companion, my champion, my protector. I loved him and I hope he knew.

Intro to Adventures at the Y2K Ranch

They say that growing things is in your blood. That must be true. I am, in truth, the farmer's daughter. My dad (and mom too) has a green thumb and has all his life. His mother said that in the 40's and times were tough instead of going to the movies, my dad would take his dime and buy flower seeds. He would plant those seeds and grow real flowers...they were all shocked.

My dad's not some weak little girly man either. He's a big strapping man and always has been. He just loves growing things. When he retired from his career in Dallas he moved to a very remote little patch in the Piney Woods of Texas. He's never left. Seriously. You might see him tooling around on his motorcycle on country lanes...you'll recognize him. He's wearing a black helmet with flames, has a tremendous white moustache and is most likely wearing overalls with a long sleeved shirt. However, he WILL NOT spend the night away from home. Nothing will entice him to do this....NOTHING.

Anyhow, my brother who lives in the city, and I have taken an interest in the farm which we jokingly call the Y2K Ranch. That's not the real name but it sounds better than the real deal so since this is my blog, that's what I'm calling it. So there.

Last year with Daddy's permission my husband and I had a very small and somewhat ragged trailer moved on to Dad's property with the intention that we'd have a place to stay when we go visit, spend the holidays, etc. It's been an adventure.

All summer my husband worked and financed our little operation. My brother provided thousands (literally) of hours of work on the place and immeasurable good advice. My dad shook his head...alot.

We started out with running water and working bathroom, etc. No electricity, no phone, no cable tv, no dishwasher or refrigerator! YIKES! That was in May. The first of June we were able to get the electricity in and boy! was it welcome! That was the hottest two weeks of my life.

Think about it, no electricty means no hot water, no working appliances, no air conditioning. At this time in my life, air conditioning is as important as food. That's saying something. Dad says the ground water is at 52 degrees and I can attest that this is true.

Then there was the work! Those danged chickens didn't always feed themselves. You can not just pour out a ton of food and it will last them. NO! The little buggers will eat it ALL immediately and you'll have to feed again tomorrow... The goats have to be fed and are incredibly loud for such small sizes. And the roosters, Oh my gosh! They start crowing at about 4:00 a.m....I guess it's immediately after the freight train literally blasts you straight out of your bed... Dad has offered to kill those old roosters but they're too old to cook and frankly, I just think they're soo pretty. I'm kinda soft hearted. This I will address more fully in the future. Yes, it does come back to bite me later on...i.e. farm sale.

Then the garden! It just keeps going! We planted lots of stuff late but still had more tomatoes, squash, okra and cucumbers than we could possibly eat. Dad even raised some 100 pound watermelons and 40 pound musk mellons (cantaloupes). We have photos...We picked, lord how we picked. We're pretty much organic out there but not by choice. Lucky for us the FIRE ANTS clean out most of the other bugs. That's a good thing if you never have to come into contact with the little bastards. If you ever do even breathe on the nest, run like you have never run before! They're not called Fire Ants for nothing.

As it turned out, eating your own fruits and veggies is one of the most wonderful things in the world. The majesty of watching a seed grow into a plant and then make food, well it's miraculous is what it is. Seriously. The hand of God at work.

I know this has been a long post but I wanted to give you lots of background. You see, my brother and I have that same farmer blood running in our veins. It's really true how the farm calls to you. No, I'm not unhinged...well not admittedly anyway. I'll be on my way back out from our lovely Scottsdale home (lovingly referred to by my 4 year old son as "Arizona house") to the farm (Texas house) for the summer on the 1st of June. I'll be posting my insights and views along side the many, many lessons learned. Yes, you can teach old dogs new tricks. Life is an adventure...live it!