This is my lampshade and a curtain.

I think it is pretty cool.

An OD of adorable

My nephew is SO FREAKIN' CUTE! I can hardly stand it. He sleeps like this all of the time.

For Madge:

This is a picture of my little sister and her boyfriend Bill. He's a great guy - he likes the same nerdy shows Casey and I do on Discovery, TLC, and the History Channel; and he thinks my sculpture is cool. He also gets along with both my dad and step-dad. My only problem is this: How many 20 year old Bills do you know? Why not Will or William?

---Moving on---

Madge saw this at a fair a couple of months ago, and when I looked at this photo of Sara and Bill I immediately thought of it.

Same buckle?


Could be!

My sister is pregnant. I know, I've told you - but I am so excited. Recently she had what she referred to as "another baby growth spurt."



Wow. She's not due until the end of March.

As a comparison, here she is in October 2006.

secrets, secrets are no fun...

Hey, remember this horse?



Her name is Annie, or St. Anne's Fortune, if you're feeling fancy.

In June 2005, between buying the house and Janet's death, I bought her. For a year and a half she has been my secret. Ex #1 didn't find out about her until shortly before we broke up. My dad found out about a month ago. My mom doesn't know.

I kept her a secret for what I felt were good reasons. When I bought her I bound reason and financial responsibility with coarse rope and crude knots and threw them onto the tracks which my intoxicatingly compassionate heart was barreling down. No one was going to understand why I bought another one when I already exhausted myself trying to support one.



As a very young foal, before she should have been weaned, Annie was brought to the farm I was boarding at in Dallas. The people who owned her then abandoned her. The manager took over her care as soon as he realized that they really weren't coming back, but he did so cautiously. If anything happened to her because of his care the horse owners could still take legal action, if he did nothing he could have negligence charges brought against him. So he logged every feeding amount and time. After three months he posted legal notice of his intent to sell and sold her quickly to someone on the property. In the next four months she was sold two more times. The people who owned her at that point then impulsively bought another horse and needed to get rid of her fast. When in that week she didn't sell, they began talking about auction.

The thing about Annie is that she's young, so she doesn't have much training beyond ground manners; she's a rescue, so no one knows what her bloodlines are; and though she's pretty, she's not much prettier than most horses to unbiased eyes. She wasn't worth much at all. At auction she would sell to a killer. There are two slaughterhouses in North Texas that take horses.

I couldn't let that happen.

I have two horses. I've had this other wonderful, beautiful, quirky creature in my life and I haven't been able to say anything about her for fear someone would find out. Even in my daily life I had to censor myself so that I didn't slip in front of family, or someone who MIGHT know, or ever come into contact with, my family. It's almost been like I never owned her at all. I feel like keeping all of the love I have for her tucked away keeps me from being able to love her as much as I could.



Earlier this month an older horse at the farm died. He died defending himself against younger horses who were running him down. He kicked the main aggressor as hard as he could - throwing it backwards head over tail. When he kicked that other horse he used so much force that he broke his own leg. On Wednesday I got a call from his owner, "Q, this is Margy. I was told you're trying to sell Annie." And it was done. My problems were solved, I no longer have to feel guilty for the financial assistance offered by my family. I no longer have to feel guilty about the lack of time I have to spend training her, or the things I can't buy for her, myself, my other pets. I don't have to pick up every possible shift at the restaurant, and when I go to the farm I can go just to ride.

Now everyone knows, and all that stuff I had tucked away is caustic and seeping out. I am very sad. She's not leaving the farm, I have first option to purchase if she is even sold and I've been told I can ride her once she's trained; but she's not my Annie Bear any more. There will be fewer opportunities to have her check my pockets for goodies, nuzzle my hair, or willingly submit to kisses on her very, very soft muzzle.

Shortly Before The Long Arm Of Murphy's Law Caught Up With Me

My boyfriend rocks the camera, and I love this photo that he took:

Oh yeah, and - someone please get me Flickr Pro for Christmas!

ROCK OUT

I came across this on Flickr. Adjust it so that the slideshow speed is 1 second. It's like a photo flip book. Yay!

Just a couple of things:

In response to my own complaint, I narc-ed out last night. Before I got a chance to go running, before I had a chance to see CSI, before I had a chance to finish my post on Maternal Mortality/Morbidity. That will be posted this afternoon, hopefully along with one on Genital Mutilation.

Did I ever tell you about my photo problem?
No?
Well, I have about 250 of Ex #1's photos on my computer, and he wants them back. Problem is, I don't have a burner on my computer, and no good way to load them onto something to take them to school and use one of those computers and email is slow. I am not spending money to get these pictures to him. 1) I don't have any. 2) He should have taken them off before I moved if it were some important. SO I finally realized I could just create a Flickr account for him. Now I am wondering why it took ME so long to think of that.

After doing some browsing of NaBloPoMo blogs, I am changing my template. I love this one, but so does everyone else. Mr. A and I are going to work together to make me a new one. "Awww..." SO look forward to it.

Also, go check out the NaBloPoMo randomizer on my sidebar.

I'm off to sling fried food for 4 hours, and then answer phone for another four. At least I'll have some money at the end of the day.

I already have a huge project planned for December. Call me crazy.