yipee i yi kay a

Phonetic spelling for those who can't actually pull out the correct order of letters together.

Howdy.  As you know I'm off to the wild and woolly west on Wednesday.  At this moment I am studiously avoiding the agony of packing.  In my heart of hearts I know I will have no need to pack the cute cute cute pink slacks or that adorable aqua linen dress, but I love them.  Instead what I should pack are T-Shirts and jeans as that is what I live in at home and I'm going to be in New Mexico for three weeks so it will become home for all practical purposes.  Still it seems just wrong to leave the cute things at my domicile.  This is a problem I face each time I drag the suitcase out.  That and the accusing stares of the dawgs.

I have ordered asked Alison not to foal before I get there.  I need time to acclimate.  Alison and Tim have a new house. 

They are not going to be moved in before I get there.  I guess you can sort out what this means for me.  Until that happy moment I shall be in residence in a travel trailer

which will be parked conveniently outside the children's current residence.

  There will be no teevee, but hopefully the bathroom facilities will work and I'll have lights.  I'm not holding my breath.  It does have a slide out.  With any luck I'll be able to open it up.  I shall remind all of you of my sacrifices the next time any of you dare to reprimand me for any execrable behaviour you may condemn me for...  (dangling preps be damned)

I had the opportunity to meet with many of you couple weeks ago at Twin Rivers.  May I say that with the exception of Linda, it was just wonderful to see so many of you?  Not Grant tho', and you know why smart ass.  I miss most of you  and wish we could get together more often.  Linda, you will be off the hit list after you invite me down for chocolate chip cookies and a swim.  Sue, you are the apple of my eye. 

Good riding and high times for all of you riding at Rolex this coming week.  I wish I could be there to root you on.  Instead I'll be in a travel trailer in Carlsbad, New Mexico dreaming of air conditioning and being a supportive and loving mother.  This last is to insure that the old daughter be properly grateful for my extreme sacrifice and make every effort to 1. have the baby at a reasonable hour that doe not interfere with my sleep patterns, 2. will have the belongings they plan to move to the new house packed up and ready to go and 3. have double checked that my bed in the new house is made up with fresh sheets et. al.  I don't think that's too much to ask.

What to do about my beloved?  Good question.  I think he will miss me desperately and be in a funk and will clean the house obsessively.  Poor little thang.  I'll leave him a vat of lettuce so he can nibble morosely on the greenery till I return.  I have asked him to come the wild and woolly west the last week of my visit.  I hope he will, but I'm not optimistic.  Still, I hope.  hint hint.
 

And the babies?  Should they notice my absence, and that is doubtful, they will be pleased when I return because they will then play on my guilt and be the happy recipients of many treats and be assured I will overlook any egregious behaviour on their collective parts.  I am darkly amused that in my absence they will have to spend a day at the vets for their comprehensive treatments in preparation for the long awaited day when they will have their dentals done.  Little tykes.

The young daughter and her daughter will be making the voyage to New Mexico after the new baby arrives.  That will be a lot of estrogen.  I'm looking forward to it.  I imagine that since the sister is coming, the new house will be available for residence by the time they arrive.  Naturally.  This will be in no small part thanks to me for being an absolute freak about boxes and putting things in places that they belong.  I say this with an absolute straight face while the state of my office, where I currently sit, is in shambles.  I've had to do some kind of awkward dance, cum, fancy footwork to get to the desk chair in front of the dinosaur I call a computer.  But this is the sacrifice I make for all y'all.  You're welcome.

Alas, our time together has come to an end.  If I have a spare moment I will update you as to the status of the newborn, the condition of the mare mother and all the nitty gritty details of birth weight, length etcetera.


Adieu &
Cheers,

Squidgy

Sullen and disjointed

Hullo,
I was forwarded a classic country ballad this morning via email.   It galvanized me to 1. shower, 2. lose weight, 3. be nicer to my beloved.  One out of three ain't bad.  Thanks Holly, always an inspiration.

Perhaps you all remember from way back when I announced the gifts the afore mentioned beloved received in celebration of the day of his birth?  If not, a refresher.  The middle daughter presented him with tickets to the  San Francisco Falun Buddha Study Association presentation of Shen Yun.  Widely touted as a Chinese acrobatic cum classic ballet performance, we were somewhat excited to see it, thinking (broadly) that surely it would be a Chinese Cirque de Soleil.  Alas not. We attended on March 23.  As the performance progressed it became painfully evident through the artistic dancing experience, and the narrators (both English and Mandarin, but who knew?)  that it was all about how bad the Chinese Gomment is, how detractors from the party line are tortured and beaten blah blah blah and all this and that, like we didn't already know this and that and why had we paid $100 per ticket to rehash the miserable human right violations taking place in the very site where our teevees and tennis shoes are manufactured?  Shocking. Still, being an aficionado of the classics and not so classics, I was able to discern some Irish dancing, thank you Tiana, and Steve was able to pick out the Chinese Air Hostess routine.  So all in all not a total waste of a day.

I went to Texas.  I had a list of things I needed to accomplish while there. My good friend and faithful companion of my youth, Liz, received my list of gotta dos and made them happen.

To whit.  We visited the Texas hill country.  check.  We visited with her family, including the 93 year old Major General daddy who said, "Lou Marden, I remember when you and my daughter signed a peace petition in Shreveport in 1969 and that petition landed on my desk and ..."  well you get it. . check.  We dined continuously.  check  We viewed the site of the Armadillo World Headquarters, though sadly it was torn down years ago and a nice vanilla motel now graces the site. check.  

Since I used all of Steve's air miles to make this sojourn, I was compelled by my beloved to collect a few souvenirs.  This picture says it all.  Jesse James Hat from the Austin Speed Shop. I had to beg some mechanic guy to reopen the Austin Speed Shop store to obtain it and as is evidenced,  worth all the trouble, if only it fit.  The requisite snow globe and a cheesy mermaid angel thing.  As you can see, a huge success.

Aah, but you ask, what for your self darling?  Funny you should ask.  A Mexican wedding dress in navy blue with silver embroidery and an intensely unattractive peasant shirt in vivid burnt orange thank you very much.  

In three weeks and a bit I shall wing my way to New Mexico to be in attendance at the birth of my second grand daughter whose name shall be Grace Louise.  Not that I'll actually be allowed in the birth room, but instead I will be exiled to the common area of the hospital to wait with the soon to be brother.  Perhaps there's a thing or two that I can teach the tyke while we wait.  Oh yes, I think so.  Anyone else need a babysitter?  EZ payment plans available.

Chocolate, it's not just for breakfast anymore!

 

  

 

 

 

Perhaps, too, you'll remember that I spent two weeks in Petaluma whilst the highnesses went off to Hawaii.  How nice.  Well as you know not a ton of exciting stuff happened unless you count the midnight drive through the darkness to gather up a horse for some guy who then shorted me $50 for my inconvenience.  But I digress.  I had a phone conversation the other day with Her Highness .  It went like this.

HH: Yo
Me:  Your phone sounds funny what are you talking on, cans?
HH:  We got a new phone carrier for the house.
Me:  Sounds just terrible
HH:  We're saving 18 million dollars a month over ATT.
Me:  Well worth the money
HH:  We also have a new TV service.
Me:  Groan.  Have you lost all my saved recordings then?
HH:  No, just Pay Per View
Me:  $%^%@#%&()_(*&^%$
HH:  Sorry
Me:  I only rented one movie.  And it was terrible.  You should talk to my child.  I rented many more movies while I was at her house and they didn't whine at all.
HH:  Still sorry
Me: !@#$%^&*(

And now, evidently, I have reached the limits of creativity or something.
Cheers,
Squidgy

Chez Two Rock

I'm working.  tsk tsk  such a mundane thing this working business.  But being a jolly and optimistic sort I thought I'd share with you the days I'm spending here in west Petaluma mucking out in the frost and being disrespected by the canines.  Their Highness's are once again in Hawaii for their winter respite and have prevailed upon me to keep hearty their domestic home and hearth.  Which is to say woudja feed and muck out the seven horses and medicate the ancient and worthy dawg and try not to kill the annoying and over anxious not young dawg?  And being a charitable  (and broke) sort I agreed.

I'm on day nine of a fifteen day stint.  I mostly have been trying to work out a schedule and it goes sometimes like this:
7:30 a.m.   threaten the alarm to within an inch of it's life.

7:45  press the button that makes the coffee

8:00      run out in the frost and feed grain like substances to the seven grumpy  equines.  Accept their thanks and haul a___ to the newspapers and scamper back inside to the relative warmth of the domicile.

8:05 (I can move if I want to)  Arrange the newspapers, get coffee, medicate old and worthy dawg and prepare myself for the humiliation which occurs whilst conquering the crossword.

Around 10:00:  Remove myself from the comfort and warmth of the kitchen to the fickle outdoors to remove 50# top blankets from the equines and dodge, artfully, the teeth that want more than anything to help me with the disrobing process.     Fold carefully the tonnage of blankets and sit in the cold barn aisle and review the days progress.  Finding none, begin the chore of cleaning up the messes said equines have made over night.

A word about horses and poopage.  They poop a lot.  Boy horses have a proprietary interest in their poops.  As in , don't touch it it's mine, and oh wait whose poop is that in the wheelbarrow, should I investigate?  So about the part where they take an interest in preserving the art of poops they have made and deposited randomly where ever the heck they want.  What they don't want is for you to remove it and to that end use any number of ruses to thwart your efforts to remove said poop in the form of grabbing the end of the pooper scooper (I have pictures, just not on this computer) and holding on for dear life with their teeth or standing directly in back of you feigning affection, don't be fooled, or the all time fave, dumping the wheelbarrow, best performed when it is full creating a montage of poops.   I know men like this. But instead of guarding their poops they just announce that deed has been done and does anyone want to alert the media?  Good grief.  There is a girl horse here who take no interest in the poops she makes, and stands a discreet distance away and is thankful she has a minion to come clean up that mess that someone made up and takes it away.  Thanks so much.  And Bless Your Little Heart.

Somewhere around 11:00-12:00 Finish up the barn chores depending on how messy the boys have been and tramp back to the house and collapse in leather recliner with a firm grip on the tee vee remote and spend some time catching up with the "Property Brothers" and "House Huners" and perhaps have a little snooze.  Then I may or may not take myself off to the market for greens and other delights like chocolate and Barista coffee.

3:30-4:00  Once again tramp out to the barns to reattach those 50# blankets to resistant horses.  Artfully dodge the teeth and fall to knees in gratitude that they missed me.  Scoop up the days artwork, that is to say, remove the precious pebbles the dudes have arranged, feed itchy hay and by 5:00 or so  make my way back to the house for a nice warm shower and to plan the evening festivities.

Mostly those evening festivities involve an instant meal and a salad, but I've been to dinner with Horse Show Mom where we imbibed in Lemon Drops that were too good for words and once I suppd with my beloved for a Thai Mystery dinner also with a Lemon Drop.  There may be a trend in the works here. 

8:30  In bed with the annoying, over anxious not young dawg, making ample room for him by clinging to edge of the mattress and sleeping and getting up to let the annoying, over anxious not young dawg out, let him back in, go back to bed, find edge of mattress, lay there for a minute or two then get myself up to do what needs to be done in the freezing middle of the night, return to edge of mattress and sleep till the alarm threatens me again in the morning. What. A Life.

So I'm on the downstretch here. Her Highness has not called to check up see if I'm alive in two days. Whatever hater. I have Valentine's Day to look forward to, the spouse and light of my life, my moon and stars will let me take him to dinner

I'll leave you with that dear reader.
Cheers,

Squidgy

Addendum to 1/8/13 post.

Cop

So the cop came last night.  We actually have been burgled (not robbed as there is a difference which cops will tell you about in patient detail).

I had to wait till Steve got home, really late last night to make a phone call as we are modern and don't have a land line and I am afraid of our neighbors.  So I called the cops.  And our "public safety officer" came over about three hours later.  Let me just tell you that it wasn't like CSI or anything.  I fully expected flashing lights, lots of fingerprint dust, guns and interrogation of the sketchy neighbors.  In fact when I mentioned the dogs might jump on our "public safety officer" and would she shoot them, she said she didn't even have a gun.  Another disappointment of epic proportions.  So on the upside the "public safety officer" chastised me for having my social security card in my wallet and then showed us pictures of her miniature dachshunds.  All in all a very civilized encounter with law enforcement at 10:30 at night.  I might add that I'd just turned out the porch light as was preparing to go night night when she showed up. 

As it turns out our Kindles have been stolen as well as my cell phone.  The box that housed the package from ATT was used to haul away our valuable loot.  Strangely, none of the jewelry which was cleverly hidden in a jewelry box was taken.  The tee vees are still here.  Mummy's silver, still here.  You'd like to think if you're going to be burgled, you could at least have  discriminating criminals with  taste and an unerring eye for the valuable.  We got ghetto burglars.  Some how that's just insulting.  PLUS I have to wait till this afternoon to get my replacement phone from FedEx today.  We definitely need to move from this joint and find an address in a tonier area.

I know all (both) of you were worriedly wondering what the outcome of the incident from yesterday yielded.  So now you can rest easy with the knowledge that I did not stroke out and I'm not crazy.  Quit sniggering, it's unattractive.

All the best.
Cheers,
Squidgy
 

Let the memories begin.

Merry Christmas.  Happy Holidays.  Feliz Ano Nuevo.   Seasons Greetings

Before we could seriously get in to the spirit of Christmas in my world, we had to first get through  celebrating and regaling my beloved on the occasion of the anniversary of his birth.  That was accomplished on  the fifteenth of December.  He got a pedicure gift card and tickets to a classical Chinese Dance performance.   He is well rounded.  And were then  free to commence with the stress and decisions that encompass Christmas.  Wa-Hoo.

they look horrified when I hold them too.

I  babysat the grand urchins for two  days  in December.  I would never deny you the pleasure of living through this  penance happy time with the children.  I mentioned something to Mila about coming to stay with her the other night and she burst in to tears.  I firmly believe they were tears of joy...the visit went off without much of a hitch.  As I discovered with my own offspring, the TeeVee is a wonderful babysitter and I'm sure the daughter and her spouse didn't mind the pay per view charges for the Tee Vee I enjoyed .  They were happy no one was damaged ...- permanently anyway. 

The old daughter and her familia  honored us with their presence (presents?) on December 31.  We had another Merry Old Time with them for the week they were here.  And I had an opportunity to corrupt fawn (To exhibit affection or attempt to please) on my youngest grandchild.  He lives too far away for me to get my clutches in to him on a regular basis.  I may have moaned about that before.  It's still true.  BTW, he had a John Deere Tractor Pinata at his birthday party in October.   What did you have?  He also had a green and yellow cake.  Obviously.

In my next life there will not be so many birthdays so close to Christmas, or we shall do away with Christmas altogether and celebrate birthdays only.  But I would still like gifts if you don't mind.  We have Steve's birthday on 12/14, Cowboy Tim's birthday on 1/4, and precious darling Jack's birthday on 1/6.  We don't have such an onslaught on my bank account till the June birthdays come around.  What in the world is going on in April/May and again in October?  (do the nine month math thing,  try to track.)  honestly.

So now we are in to 2013.  whoop whoop.  It can't possibly be any worse than 2012 was in my life.  So here's to it.  Hip Hip Hooray and all that.  I saw a phrase that I liked a lot.  It said "Life becomes  easier when you learn to accept an apology  you never got."  I will try to remember that the next time someone cuts me off, pulls out in front of me, or anything else that my sensitive little self takes exception to.  I feel better already. 

It looks like this only it had a Barbie cover on it, pink and purple.  sadness

Do you remember some time ago I shared with you the ignominy of falling in to the swamp with my brand new shiny iPhone?  Well, now I've got a true mystery on my hands.  I came home from running errands today, changed and took my extraordinarily large self off to the gym to commence with this years attempt at fitness.  My back hurts, by the way, fitness sucks.  Anyway, when I got home, (cue mystery music here) the front door was dead bolt locked, and not by my doing I might add.  A box which had been by the front door entry was unpacked the goods were left, but the  shipping box was gone.  The back door, which is never locked, was locked and dead bolted.  Some things were out of a drawer from Steve's night table and my phone, she is gone.  Naturally I thought perhaps Steve had come home and to that end I emailed him and axed him all those questions.  I would have called him, but MY PHONE IS GONE!  We don't have anything worth stealing so all of  our icky stuff is still here.  However, I just discovered that Amazon .com is happy to announce that I've successfully changed my name to Keith 707.  I am bewildered.  Perhaps I've had a stroke.  At least I've documented with all y'all what I believe to have happened.  Assuming I don't start drooling in a bin somewhere, I'll let you know how it all turns out. 

Over the holidays, I had another two opportunities to visit my Aunt Betty.  Once at a nice dinner with my cousin and two of my very favorite people in the the world Charlotte and Cheryl.  They've had the dubious honor of knowing me since before I was born.  You know how sometimes you have people in your life that you just love unconditionally?  Thats the  way I feel about Charlotte and Cheryl.  Charlotte was my moms best friend forever( I believe she is a BFF)   and Cheryl is her daughter.  She wouldn't let me wear her toe shoes when I was little.  But she was my idol as a kid.  I also got to see Aunt Betty with two of my chillens, Alison and Megan and their assorted offspring.  As is their wont, Jack and Mila extorted gifts from A. Betty in the form of (Jack) a brain coral and (Mila) a conch shell.  Not sure how that all came about, but there you have it.

I had an opportunity to spend the day with Horse Show Mom the other day.  She's been a busy little thing  selling horses left and right.  We took one sale varmint down to Menlo Park to the vet for a presale check and as is the case with horses and vets and buyers and sellers that took all bloody day.  As the horse sold on the spot, I was compensated for being agreeable and easy to get along with by a nice dinner and a couple tasty cocktails.  I'm easier to get along with if booze is involved.  Sad but true.  Maybe not sad.

I must fix dinner now.  And rest up for the arrival of my new phone tomorrow for which I must sign.  Wouldn't you sign for something that arrived at your house unless it came from the judicial department or the IRS or something?

Cheers and all the best for a great New Year!
Squidgy

Post Turkey

Annual Thanksgiving awards:  Alden wins for most pictures of a cooked bird.  Sue wins for the most turkey roasting drama.  I lose for having inedible Brussels sprouts.  End of Thanksgiving.


On to Christmas.  For the first time in history, I  decorated the house before December.  As you will recall, last year we traveled to North Carolina for Christmas, and a jolly good thing we did at that.   But we did no decorating, save a winsome, lonely wreath on the front door.  This year is another story.  The tree is up and decorated within an inch of its life, the mantle is draped, festooned and lit with gobs of stuff and the buffet in the dining room is replete with sparkling, freshly polished silver.  Not to be happy for her mother on this unprecedented feat, daughter Alison, in her snarkiest New Mexican, inquired if I'd also set the table for Christmas Eve.  Alison's birthday is on the 2nd of December, how do you think that worked out for her? That's what I thought too!  I sent her pictures of the house and asked how she was doing.  

 Daughter Lindsey and I went to see the last Twilight movie.  We had to, we'd seen the last two or three or however many there were.  And we are not apologetic.  We also got our nails done.  So one treat offset the other so to speak.  I was amused by the sign proffered at a bar stating that a 20% increase to your bill would be assessed by showing your "Breaking Dawn Part II" ticket stub.  What ever hater.

Daughter Megan and her beloved took themselves off to Portland  Thanksgiving week for an adults only  trip by themselves.  The good grandparents had the  grand-offspring.  Steve and I managed to catch the plague the week of Thanksgiving and so were spared babysitting duties um not available to help out.  Oh right, thanks to Malcolm for the plague, way to share sugar.

At this point I had ready a rant and a rave about the whining post election.  I got over it and I feel sorry for those of you who can't.  I rest.

In an effort not to be a horrible person, I visited my ancient Auntie the other day.  She kept reminding me that she was 90 years old.  I said not for long, as her birthday is in January.  She was confused about that.  She got cross with me several times and then told me I could come by any time but there was no guarantee she would be home as her schedule varied from day to day.  I agreed to do whatever she wanted, she was carrying a stout cane.  I love her.


So there used to be this computer game called Bureaucracy.  It was in DOS format.  I believe that DOS stood for dumb operating system.  I played this game on an Apple PCJr.  Suffice it to say that this was in a galaxy far far away.  Before windows.  Anyway, Bureaucracy, the deal was you had to type in commands to perform simple every day tasks like finding the phone, getting the mail, talking to repair people etc.  Each time something went haywire, like you didn't move the correct object to find something to find something else your blood pressure would rise.  Eventually you would have a stroke and die.  The game gave up the ghost for me after I discovered you had to stroke the llama's tongue to open the mailbox, but I digress.  Anyway, I tried to reach the repair/service department at a Sears store today.  OMG and FML, epic fail and all that, I never did talk to a service person at the store, but I did talk to some call center in Bangladesh or where ever and nearly popped a vessel talking to the phone maze.  The upshot of this is my beautiful Cobalt Blue Kitchenaid stand mixer, that I bought for myself when I had a pity party for myself back in 1986, seized up last night in the middle of making gingerbread.  And all I really want to do do is find someone to fix the thing.  A quick call to all the appliance repairs idiots in Vacaville got me no where as, to a man,  they only do major appliances and my major melt downs had no affect whatsoever on any of them.  I feel my blood pressure rising just thinking about it.  Perhaps a nice cocktail will calm me down.  Who cares if it's 10 in the morning.  I'll bet it's 5 in Bangladesh.  This would be a bad time to offer platitudes... or advice.  Real bad.

RIP

On that happy note, I shall sign off for now.
Adieu,
Cheers,
Squidgy

'

Hacked Off

So last week started off on a high note with the discovery that my email had been hacked.  Great.  All my plans to extort money have been circumvented by some bad guys wearing clown suits.  JK  they weren't wearing clown suits that I'm aware of.   On the upside, I heard from so many of you I've not heard from in centuries forever.  Just to be clear, I'm not in London, though I wouldn't mind, and I would love for you to send money.  I know from previous attempts to prod you all in to sharing your wealth with me that this is a faint and pathetic request.

Sadly, the hacking incident was the high point of my week.  I should get out more often, but it all seems rather futile.  For instance, Sunday I never even got dressed and utilized my time by trying out a new Macaroni-n-Cheese recipe and watching "My Fair Lady" for the umpteenth thousandth time.  Once again the Ascot scene  was the high point.  What a frenzied moment that was...

We survived another Ram Tap a couple weekends ago.  Barely.  It was the first trip to Fresno for the little adopted squirrel dog.  She was impressed.  She also picked a fight with Emma over who got to be next to the people in the bed. A lot of scrapping later, Steve suffered damage to his digits whilst separating the piranhas snapping, snarling  babies who each had a death grip on each others mandible and maxillae.  Hate the babies.  Steve is still suffering from his injuries, but not nearly as much as yours truly who is required to minister medication and cluck sympathetically over the state of his suppurating sores.  I am not a nurse.  Full stop.

The dawgs have not scrapped in a couple days now, nay Emma and the squirrel have been caught engaging in what some might call playful banter, batting at each other and jumping about.  I steadfastly force myself to believe the warring is over, but judging from the look on Emma's face, she's just biding her time for an opportunity to send Lili packing to the giant tamale stand in the sky.  (Lili is a chi hua hua afterall)  I believe a Lab is in my future.  I mean I hope a Lab is in my future.

We took ourselves off to the northlands to watch the grandbabies play soccer.  I would have to say that perhaps little Mila has decided that it is a far better use of her time to stare at pictures of herself on the "other" (read "good") granny's iPhone.  So Megan screached at her daughter "get out and play and take no prisoners" and like that, and I'm all "so, you're that  mother" and all her cronies were like, "yeah, Meg, so you're that mother."  And Megan was all "shutup mom" and Mila ran for cover on the lap of the good grandmother.  The "good" grandfather was not in attendance as he was busy playing kick the soccer ball with Jack who was all "old guys ...give it up man" and Ken was all sweaty and red faced (he is older than me afterall)  Sitting in his newly acquired extra large folding chair that was purchased only that very morning on a very special trip to WalMart, was my beloved who was engrossed in a riveting game of Free Cell  on his iPhone.  And where was the father of the grandurchins?  why sitting in his little chair wondering why all of his inlaws had come up to disturb his weekend and would they be staying afterwards or would they (please, please, pretty please) be going straight home?  Ah, family togetherness.  I just can't wait for the holidays.  Oh wait, yes, yes I can.

Speaking of the holidays.  My ex-brother in law invited all my children to come to his house for Thanksgiving.  This invitation did not include yours truly and my spouse.  As is my wont, I was very sulky and pouty for a few minutes.  And I might mention that the aforementioned children rejoindered with a rousing chorus of " where were you when we were children on Thanksgiving?  Oh, right, you were at Ram Tap at a horse show."  Little beasts.   Because I feel like  cooking, I  would like to have just have a little dinner party at home.  I have invited the royalty of Petaluma,  they have not agreed to come yet.  We'll see what happens.  I suspect we will have turkey loaf and instant mash in the solitude and of our little casa, just the two of us.   Happily what this really means is a great deal leftover $$ for me since I won't be celebrating Christmas giftage with the ingrates.  Ho Ho Ho time for receiving.

This is Precious at Ram Tap circa 1990's

Today we leave for the last and final Ram Tap Horse Trials.  I have been going to Fresno several times a year for the past thirty some odd years for this event.  My spouse, who had a privelaged and sumptuouis upbringing, evented here as a tyke and can remember when you got brownie points on cross country for going really fast.  Still, the event was well established before Stevie was even born.  So it ends on Sunday.  Another eventing institution, good, bad or indifferent, gone gone gone.

On that up note,

Galaxy XC at Ram Tap circa 2006

Cheers,

Squidgy