He is the new kid around here.

I see you over there,
Hunched in your chair.
Sunglasses on inside,
Are you trying to hide?
You were out too late last night,
And let me guess, you feel like you might,
Throw up at any given moment.
Drinking too much was not your intent,
You got carried away,
And today there is hell to pay.
You had a good excuse to indulge, so never fear,
World Rabies Day comes but once a year.

Mom asked me what was wrong, and I pointed out the sports section, where they referred to my old high school’s football team using initials.

Now, I don’t want to give out TOO much information about myself because I know I would wake up and find a bunch of loyal blog readers at my doorstep, wanting to hang out with the exciting and interesting girl they read about on the internet (that would be ME, in case I’ve lost you).

So instead of letting you know exactly where I live, let’s just call my town “Awesometown.” Awesometown is, as you might imagine, pretty sweet. It is small, but the school is good. Awesometown just got its second stop light a couple years ago (which TOTALLY cramps my style, but that is another story for another time).

In true small town style, Awesometown has had a rivalry for years with a neighboring small town’s school. It is a lot like Awesometown, except smaller and completely lame. That school actually served as the school for two small towns, Lamesville and Barfington. Even with that combined power, the Lamesville-Barfington school never had a football team because they were too small.

As a small aside, my senior year of high school was one where we played the Lamesville-Barfington basketball team during their homecoming game (a basketball homecoming… sad… sad). And so of course we beat them terribly and then their cheerleaders did a pyramid-type thing and they all fell down and we laughed hysterically and it is STILL one of my favorite high school memories.

Anyway, right after I graduated from high school, some wise guy decided it would be a great idea to invite the Lamesville-Barfington school to play football with our school. And so we now play football with our former RIVALS, and kids today probably don’t even remember those glorious days.

But I do. So imagine my disgust when I opened the paper and saw a headline referring to the L-B-A team. As in, Lamesville-Barfington-Awesometown. THEY DID NOT EVEN PUT OUR NAME FIRST. Ugh, gross, excuse me while I dry heave.

Isn’t it weird how we hold on to these things? In the grand scheme of things, that little rivalry of the past means zilch.

I mean, I’m sure all the residents of Lamesville-Barfington are lovely people.

But I wouldn’t go over there without a recent tetanus shot. I’m just saying…

My dad and I journeyed down to Tennessee where we had a hell of a time. We met fantastic people, got to watch the best horse show on Earth, enjoyed some good ol’ Southern food, and did I mention the horse show? The best of the Tennessee Walking Horse breed come to compete for World Championship and World Grand Championship honors over the 10 days on the Celebration.

We only went for the final 3 days, when the World Grand Champions are crowned, but next time we’re going to need a few more days to fit everything in.

No doubt about it, the final class, aka the Big Stake, is the culmination of the whole event. Over 20,000 people attended the show that night to cheer for their favorites. And cheer we did!

This video is of the entrances by the contenders for the Big Stake — 11 horses were eligible to show and 11 answered the gate call. They are announced one-by-one as they come into the ring and it is pretty clear to see who the favorites are. My cheers went for the mare, Victoria’s Secret. She got reserve in the class, though I maintain that she probably deserved 1st (and a couple of the judges agreed with me). Listen to the crowd when her name is announced!

My favorite part of this time of year is the light.

(Click thumbnails to see larger pictures!)

So far this year, I have seen/heard at our farm:

• 2 Great Horned Owls
• 1 adult coyote in the field next to our house
• 1 adolescent coyote in the neighbor’s garden
• 2 freakishly vocal Red-Tailed Hawks
• 1 gimpy, sickly fox that died in our barn
• 1 non-gimpy but still sickly fox that also died in our barn (an unfortunate trend)
• 1 terrifyingly loud Blue Heron (Have you ever heard one? Look up some audio files and imagine hearing it from out in the dark!)
• 1 young White-Tailed Deer (kind of big, but still had its spots)

Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the wildlife. Especially the little bunny who panics and runs up the driveway in front of the car instead of just dodging out of the way.

I’m just saying, I would just appreciate if some of them were a little quieter and some others of them were more non-terminally ill.

From top to bottom: Felix, Bartleby, Pussywillow
.

This is like some weird, abstract art. I call it “Felix, Pussywillow and Bartleby On a Tree.” A creative title for a creative piece!

Bartleby is my favorite, and I’ll never apologize for that (unless it is to the other two kittens, which I do in fact do often).

They’re such copycats. Get it? Hahahaha hooooo hehe.

Lil and I were driving along innocently one day when we saw a sign for free kittens. We turned around and went up to the house, where they presented us with deliciously round and furry little chunks of adorableness. We nestled them against our faces and popped them into our mouths like little snacks because they were just that cute.

They’re not quite so small and cute now, but hey, it happens to the best of us.

That whole paragraph was a metaphor, in case you didn’t realize. My home in the story stands for my blog, and the important matter the guest (you) came to discuss is obviously my very important, high-profile, glitzy and exciting life. And the Gold Finch story was just kind of thrown in there because it’s true, even if nobody really cares about it.

Much has happened in the past month or so that I’ve not been writing. I’ve thought about writing in here many times and even wrote it in my planner, but just never got around to it.

And so, even though I have all sorts of things to tell you, my triumphant return to blogging is going to center around one inane detail of my life: I like cole slaw. I’ve never liked cole slaw. People always told me that my tastes would change, but I never really believed them, especially when it comes to foods for which I’ve never really cared (many veggies, all nuts but peanuts, fruit in places it should not be IE chicken salad, etc). But lo and behold, I now like cole slaw. It blows my mind! Much like that time Lil told me that Gold Finches wouldn’t come to the feeder at my house and yet they did.