Tag Archives: Dogs

Ostrich Humor – Anyone?

ostrich

OSTRICH, n. A large bird to which (for its sins, doubtless) nature has denied that hinder toe…  The absence of a good working pair of wings is no defect, for, as has been ingeniously pointed out, the ostrich does not fly. — Ambrose Bierce

Occasionally, when meeting the world head-on sounded like a drag, I’ve been known to do a fair Struthio camelus imitation.  I’ve had my head in the sand a lot lately, but I’m still kicking, nonetheless, and no, I don’t have a nest of eggs that needs checking on.  I’m aware that the ostrich effect is a myth except when describing behavioral finance… but I still like the metaphor.

Lots of books, music, and movies have gone under my wheels since I last posted.  My binges have included, but not limited to, all 10 books in the Bernard Samson series by Len Deighton, and Neil Young and Crazy Horse have been my constant quilting companions, with side trips accompanied by the likes of Steve Winwood, Cream, and Joe Cocker.  Movies: too numerous to list here, but here’s a hint – puredee escapism.

Elmer Tipton OK F2 TornadoThe weather here in Tornado Alley has finally driven me back to the computer; we’ve had a couple of “holy cow that was kind of close!” tornadoes blow through – friends and neighbors sustained damage, but our little piece of paradise is, so far, intact.  And the rain… we went from exceptional drought and near-dead lakes to ground that’s reached its saturation point and flooding in the last 3-4 weeks.  Highways to anywhere have been closed and a nearby town is dealing with evacuation procedures.  We’re in moderate drought now, but I have it from a reliable source that as soon as the new statistics are tabulated we should be listed as merely abnormally dry… huzzah!

The most recent quilting check mark – which, incidentally, rhymes with aardvark, airpark, autarch, ballpark, blue shark, bookmark, chop mark, debark, demark and D-mark – that I’ve seen lately, is my scrappy red and black version of Barbara Brackman’s Threads of Memory project.  The finished top measures 72″x87″ or app. 182×220 cms.

threads of memory barbara brackman quiltI still need to get three blocks plus borders finished on my Fig Tree & Co. fabrics version of the same quilt.  Never fear, I will get there one of these days.

On another quilting note: I finished quilting and binding my Bonnie Hunter Easy Street quilt from 2012 (seriously, 2012).  I was somewhat eager to show it off here, but disaster managed to strike first.  The pre-washed mauve fabric that I’d used as backing fabric bled…. and bled and bled and bled.  I’ve used every commercial product I could think of, and it’s still bleeding.  All of my nice white background fabrics are an ugly pinkish-mauve, ditto the greens and the aquas that I used.  But there is a silver lining – the purples are still purple.  My last ditch alternative is going to be using an ammonia solution – cross your fingers please – otherwise it’ll be designated as dog bedding.

Speaking of dogs: we lost Boomer this spring, one of a pair of big yellow dogs that lived with us, but we’ve since acquired a pair of litter mates as company for Boomer’s brother Jack, who badly missed having a wing-man.

Tank & TillyHave been puzzling over so-called designer dogs since our new puppies are a Labrador/Rottweiler mix, and what to call them.  Labrador/Rottweiler is a mouthful, so I’ve been reading about hybrid dogs with names like Yorkipoo, Alusky, and Labradoodle to name just a few of the recognized crossbreeds.

Where do Tank and his sister Tilly land?  Officially, they’re Labrotties, but I think instead that I’ll follow the Labradoodle logic and call them Labradotties if asked.  The name rolls off the tongue easier and sounds like a lot more fun.  Besides, Labrottie, when said aloud, makes me think of some old and dignified Italian breed.  Too much responsibility to put on a pair of rough and tumble puppies.

Tumbleweed Or Russian Thistle?

Trust me, it’s not a “Ginger or Maryann?” kind of question.  There’s a third alternative, some folks just a stone’s throw south of us call them Texas Tribbles.

I’m a roaming cowboy riding all day long,
Tumbleweeds around me sing their lonely song.
Nights underneath the prairie moon,
I ride along and sing this tune.

In case you young’uns don’t recognize the lyrics, that’s the opening stanza from a Sons Of The Pioneers classic.

You may or may not recall a passing remark I made a few weeks ago about a fair breeze blowing and how it was a good opportunity to toss out a few tumbleweeds to let them move on down the road.  I think I also mentioned that as soon as the wind turned, they’d probably be back.

Well, the wind turned, and they’re back, and they brought friends.

When I went out to the truck this morning, I got the impression that all of the tumbleweeds in the county came over for a party last night, passed out, and never left.

We had 50 mph (80.47 kph) winds yesterday evening.  Not a hugely big wind, we see wind speeds like that on a regular basis – not bragging, it’s just a fact of life in this corner of Oklahoma (the land is very flat out here you know).  But I have to say that it was an odd, swirly kind of wind that caromed off the eaves of the roof, hooted down the chimney, and apparently made it easy for the tumbleweeds to go airborne.

Hotie & PepperThe donkeys don’t look too happy.  It could be because of all of the tumbleweeds cluttering up their pasture, or it could be they’re hoping that tonight is the night for a ration of sweet feed.  I know for a fact that there’s a fence lurking underneath all of the tumbleweeds piled up just behind them.

paddockIt doesn’t look too awfully bad in this photo, but maybe I’m just setting up for the big finish.

dogsntmbleweedsOur two yellow dogs trying to figure out what happened to the gate.  They used to be able to squeeze right through, but tumbleweeds are terribly prickly, and that makes the gate an uncomfortable proposition.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAThe boys finally got into the pasture, only to find themselves stymied once again.

weeorchard3Now I know that the last time I was out here there were a couple of peach trees.

[sigh]… Looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us.  There are far too many tumbleweeds to toss into the next high wind, so maybe I should change my name to woman-who-sets-fires?  And maybe that sounded too much like something from a bad Kevin Costner movie, so I’ll come up with an alternative… later.