Taken To Her Bed

I did not do it.

It's those mangy dogs.

Report From The Battleground

Would you know? Could you tell?

This tranquil little craftsman style bungalow in rural Minnesota has been the site of an epic battle of man (or in this case, woman) versus invasive insect.

And here is one of the collaborating beasts. Yes my friends, we had fleas.

The past two weeks have consumed my every waking hour, as well as many when I should have been peacefully sleeping. I have had house pets all of my life, as a child as well as my entire adult life. Therefore, I have had, on occasion, fleas. I have never had an infestation, even when I lived in that bug haven, Atlanta.

I have been led to the conclusion that these nasty bits of pestilence are becoming immune to the chemicals commonly used to curb their prolific breeding ways. I could not get rid of them, which allowed those busy females to lay their twenty-five eggs per day. Yes indeed, I know how many eggs a female flea lays in a day. I know how long it takes for the eggs to hatch and the larvae to mature into a flea. I know more about fleas than I care to.

In the end, I have gained the upper hand by steam cleaning every surface in the house, meticulous vacuuming, fogging, constant washing of bedding and clothing. Twice daily showers and frequent bathing of dogs and poor Margaret the Cat. Thrice daily combing with a flea comb and using flea collars. Spot on treatment did not work. Manual labor has been my only choice and eventual salvation from the virulent bloodsucking vermin.

So my friends, this is why I have been absent. I am still in the midst of this, I have my office left to steam clean, I'm still capturing a few eggs and immature fleas in the comb and I plan to fog one more time. But I feel I am just about able to plant my flag of victory.

I fought the flea. I believe I have won. Now to have a long talk with Howard and Grace about sticking their noses into places they do not belong.

Eat. Work. And A Ghost.

Can you tell we are having Fall weather. Food is once again on my mind.

A little bit of grass fed top round steak covered with sauteed mushrooms. As Julia Child said, I did not crowd the mushrooms! Accompanied by a melange of vegetables and baked sweet potato fries. Ummm, ummm GOOD!

Do you think I have ghosts? Sometimes what comes out of my camera causes me to wonder!

It is another beautiful day that will be filled with work. Somehow I don't mind laboring when it is a lovely day. Anyone wanting to share the day and the labor, well I do have a fine collection of manure forks.........

Jackie? Helen? Or Ma Kettle?

This is what happens when your computer has a camera.

Someone decides to try out the Jackie O look. Or perhaps it's Helen Gurley Brown. I don't think either of those stylish women would have been been caught on a bet in my oh-so-not-stylish barn tee shirt!

I went to a training clinic on Friday that is a western discipline, reining. I planned to take my temperamental Lipizzan/Arabian gelding along, but he thought not and wouldn't get himself into the trailer. As it turned out, he was much wiser than I.

Although it was interesting and it is a very popular thing among stock horse as well as Arabian owners, it would most definitely not been up Ari's alley. He-of-lightness-and-sensitivity would not have enjoyed being kicked, nor would he have liked to have his mouth pulled hard to create a sliding stop. I took this photo at the end of the day. I saw a row of snoozing horses. It captures how hard they all worked during the day.

This leads to the end of the day, after we left Wisconsin and I had dropped Kristina off at her apartment. She lives in the neighborhood I left when I moved to the country nearly twenty years ago. It was right at the peak rush hour time, so I decided to spend sometime in the area. How much has changed and how firmly it was reenforced that you really cannot go home again.

Hip; urbane; crowded; upscale; pretentious; aggressive. The reality now. My quaint, quiet urban oasis is not what it used to be. I walked around like the rube I have become. I think my mouth literally was agape. I needed a few groceries, so I stopped in the place I used to shop. I could barely make my way through the aisles. Unfriendly hipsters, upscale soccer moms and a palpable sense of stress. No eye contact. Perhaps I was the only one no one would look at, as I am sure I not only obviously looked out of place, I probably smelled out of place as well! I was, after all, just a half an hour removed from the place in the photo.

It was a surprise to me that I would not want to live there again. I had thought I could, but I realize not so much.

Perhaps if I had practiced my look beforehand? Unlikely. I now realize I own it, so I may as well wear it with pride. I am a rube. ☺

Still Here

Since we last spoke it has turned into fall in the odd state of Minnesota. With the change of weather has come an impulse to return to the kitchen. As I had said before, I am a simple cook, interested in easy preparation and ultimate flavor. To that end I covered a cut-up chicken with fresh herbs, coarse salt, chopped garlic and green onions and a healthy dose of olive oil.

The end result was fabulous!

Paired with the zucchini pancakes ala Allegra........

a simple and delicious dinner was had.

I watched Julie & Julia last night. I was almost inspired to pull out the cookbooks, but I think not. I don't have the time it takes, but it would be fun to cook like that again. On the other hand, my ever expanding waistline is not in need of that!

I know I have been MIA, not only from here, but I have not been out and about in the blogland. I have indulged my dour mood and stayed cocooned in grumpiness. Today is simply beautiful. Not even I can continue to chew the bone of discontent on a day like this. Perhaps the block I have had will be burst by sunshine and temperate fall days.

Just A Way Of Life

I am sort of on sabbatical. But I ran across this on facebook and I can relate to it. I have often heard these words "it's just a horse". I have heard this mostly when I am putting money and effort into a sick or injured horse. So I think "you're just an idiot". Perhaps sometimes I have actually said it out loud. It wouldn't surprise me.

The horse thing is, I think, genetic. You either have it or you don't. If you do, you cannot explain why you spend countless hours and enormous sums caring for them. The constant cleaning and repair. Sleepless nights waiting for mama to foal. The nightmare of caring for an orphan. The heartbreak of death.

Brushing, detangling. Broken bones and broken dreams. Soft muzzles nestling against your neck. A newborn foal smelling and tasting the person who will be their guardian. A mare's soft nicker. The stallion's guttural call.

The ride of a lifetime. The win you have waited for. The horse that is one-in-a-million.

Not being "just a girl."

Daily Dose Of Demagoguery

It's overcast. Something like my own mindset.

Allegra was right, this is the summer of our discontent. I don't feel well. I am sure I don't feel well because I am exhausted. Mentally worn out by the daily grinding of harsh voices telling the great unwashed we need to take our country back. A constant barrage of fear and hate mongering.

Brown people are over-running the country. It's not trade policy that has caused you to be jobless, it's them.

Beware of the pregnant brown woman. She is either carrying an Anchor Baby or she is incubating a Future Terrorist to be born here and raised over there. Only to return eighteen years later to kill you.

A community center in Manhattan, yet to be built, will be funded by Islamic terrorists and is a Victory Mosque, intended to spit in the eye of all the red-blooded real Americans. It is no great stretch of credibility to compare this to Nazi Germany rolling into Poland. Ask Newt. We are at war with Islam. And as Rush so sagely said, you won't find a Hindu Temple on the site of Pearl Harbor. Cause everyone knows Japan is a Hindu country. Everyone also knows two blocks away from Ground Zero is on the site of ground zero. C'mon.

If the evil Socialist Congress allows Bush's tax cuts to expire on those hedge-funds and Wall Street bankers, there won't be any jobs. Because this is a known fact, supported by all of the jobs which were created over the last decade. You know that Communist Obama made all of the jobs disappear. He did. And he took America away from the Real Americans. And he is borrowing money. Unlike what we did. Thank our God that we will be back in a couple of months to make things straight. 

On and on this goes. The mainstream media types look sincere as morons with a motive spew the unbelievable and unsupportable all day long. Aimed at the people who believe critical thinking is thinking about how to criticize your best friend's new dress without actually saying it's ugly, it strangely resonates with large blocks of people. It seems we are very susceptible to bigotry wrapped in the flag.

So I don't feel well. I am suffering from an infection of the soul.

More Of The Same

This is what happens when I cannot drag up enough energy to go to the garden for a couple of days. 

Zucchini grows into mutant squash. There were two smallish zucchini in the patch, so they will be had for dinner. The rest are destined to be frozen for winter use. Somehow I am not so particular in the middle of the frozen days of a Minnesota winter.

Tomorrow is supposed to be the day the humidity takes a hike. I will believe it when I feel it. We had the mother of storms last night. I am surprised I awoke to the place intact. I was sure I would find us dropped in someone's cornfield.

I have lost the blogging feeling. My brain is fried like an egg. My humor is absent. I am a crabby thing indeed. My horses are worn out from heat and unbelievable flies. It is a horror movie in my pastures. I now understand the madness of the characters in a Tennessee Williams play. Much more of this and I would probably end up on Fox 'News'.

So I leave you with a hint of what being around me is like this past 45 days. Grumble, Grumble.

Pesto, Primary & A Golem

I dragged my damp, weary self out to the garden today and saw the basil was flowering. Time for a hair cut and some big time pesto making. At least I don't need to turn on the stove.

We have our primary today, so we voted early afternoon. We have a Tea Party guy running for governor, endorsed by the GOP, so the primary is mostly on the DFL side. I cannot even begin to allow myself to believe the guy on the very far right will win the governorship of this state. It is so scary, it cannot be considered.

So for now I will consider a lot of basil and what to do with it.

Three more days in the steam room for us. If you don't hear from me, I melted.

Not Lost, Waylaid

Hello. My name is Sandra and I am a whiner.

The very large sunflower which seeded itself in my garden likes the weather. The tomatoes and zucchini like the weather. I do not.

We have been enduring a summer of high temperatures and tropical humidity. I am sure that this is directed at me personally. This makes me very hateful and absolutely no fun at all. And joy of joys; a whole week ahead above 90 F. And that thick, wet air. Torture by weather.

I am sorry that I cannot come out to play. I'm whining and crabby and I need to go to my room and stay there until I have a change of attitude.