Manure Patrol

This sign still hangs in my Dad's barn. It was a present from me either for Christmas or his birthday when I was about 12 years old, because it seemed to me at the time that these were the words I heard most often from him.

Some background: my folks first put me on a horse when I was about four years old, and my childhood passion was born. I started taking weekly riding lessons when I was about six, and immediately began begging for a horse of my own. For three and a half years, my parents tuned out my whining, and finally they snapped. When I was nine-and-a-half, they told me that if I could prove I would be responsible enough for a horse by taking complete care of our dog and cat for the next six months (feeding, grooming, cleaning up, making vet appointments) they would get me a horse for my tenth birthday. They never thought I'd do it.

We bought our first horse, Duchess, one week after I turned ten. Then a second, Bill. My Dad started riding, and suddenly found the meaning of life. We moved from the suburbs to the quasi-country where we could keep horses at home instead of boarding. Horse care was my responsibility, including feeding, grooming, tack care, and of course, cleaning up. We had next door neighbors who were NOT horse people and complained about flies and smell, so I was charged with mucking out stalls and corrals twice a day, rain or shine, which quickly became known as Manure Patrol.

But this was a good life lesson. Tempering the joy of any endeavor, (be it having animals or children or even a job) there's always some shit to shovel. Here's a pic of me, my Dad, and my son Sam who has also developed a love of "ride the horse."

They don't even TRY anymore....

My e-mail software has a junk mail filter. I always check my junk mail file, just to be sure that valid e-mail hasn't been diverted there (sometimes it is). I've noticed that junk mail tends to have waves of themes. For a very long time, most of it seemed to be wanting to sell me drugs for erectile dysfunction, and fake Rolex watches. Lately the subject themes have been "we've approved your loan request" or "thanks for contacting us, we're ready to loan you money," and what appears to be bl*w j*b p0rn. (using the characters so those searching for actual BJP won't be directed here and be disappointed). Usually the senders make a token effort to make their names look like actual people, "Sherry Hound" or "Ivana Watch". Of course I never open these and delete them. I guess the junk mail senders have decided I'm not even worth the effort to try to fool, as today two of the sender names were "deception" (for a "loan approval") and "flimsy replica" (for fake watches).

Dilettante's School of Dog Walking Etiquette

Lesson #35:

Try to remember not to wave at your neighbors with the same hand that's grasping the bag of poop. Meanings could be misconstrued.

Mixed Family Traditions Meme

Maya's Granny tagged me for this meme. Here's how it works:

1. Post the rules.

2. You have to choose two different heritages that you (or an ancestor) really do have. They can be nationalities, races, religions, regions, or even political parties.

3. Make up a silly tradition (or as many as you want) that reflects them.

4. Do as many as there are mixes in your family.

5. Name five people to follow; inform them in the comments section of their blogs.


OK, this one is a bit tough for me because I don't have a lot of details about various ancestors and nationality/heritage.

On my mother's side, my Grandmother was German (mostly) and my Grandfather was Irish. So on St. Patrick's Day, the family sat down to a meal of corned beef and sauerkraut.


I have an ancestor on my mother's side (Great Great Grandmother?) who was Cherokee. But I don't know who she was married to or if she was on my Grandmother's or Grandfather's side. But I'll pretend she was married to a Polish man, so on Christmas they enjoyed a nice Bufflalo roast and Pierogi's.

My father's ancestors were Scottish, Irish and Welsh. So when they got together they always argued about which of them was most oppressed by the Brits. And whether the haggis course should be served before or after the boiled potatoes.

That's about all I can think of. We have a boring family, heritage-wise.

Hopefully my tag-ees will have more interesting families!

I'm tagging Linda at Bugwalk. She's the only blogger I know besides Jill at Somewhere You Feel Free, but I think Jill has her hands full right about now. I was priviledged enough to get to meet Baby Megan on Sunday, and a cuter baby I don't think I've yet met. (Except for Sam, of course, who turns 10 tomorrow!)