Chapeaux

I love hats.
And I know I did a post on hats quite awhile ago, but I decided that since I do numerous posts on cows with no apologies whatsoever, I could toss out as many hat posts as I wish.  After all....it IS MY blog and this is what has captured my fancy this week.

The royal wedding, of Prince William and Kate Middleton, really resurrected the thrill for me.  I don't know if you happened to catch any of the wedding guest pictures, but let me tell you....the hats ranged from breathtaking to gasps of horror. 

Some examples:

At first, I thought the blue rowboat was the worst, but at least you can see around it.  Can you imagine sitting behind the exploded duck? 

I can't decide....do I admire her for wearing such a bold hat with apparent confidence or pity her for having to attempt to match the lipstick with it?

There are some guys who read this blog.  We're looking at HATS, fellas.  That's right....focus a little higher.
(This hat I really liked! The color, the style, the funny little feather....all of it.)

 Camilla's hat is wearing HER.  And not well.  But dig the Queen!  That woman can wear a hat, now. Kate's mother, in the blue, has a lovely hat as well. 

I saved the worst for last. 
You need to know that these two are Princess Beatrice and Princess Eugenie, Sara Ferguson's daughters. They don't get out much.
The four point rack...I don't know if Boone and Crockett got a chance to score that one.  And it's being held on to her head by....?  Maybe bolts.  I've looked at it in several photos from several angles and just can't figure out what's keeping it on her forehead.
The blue hat next to it looks positively conservative, but I believe if it was standing alone....which I think it might be able to do....it would be more attrocious. 

As if that wasn't enough fun for one week, we had the Kentucky Derby! Yes!

The whole Kentucky Derby scene is just glorious....fashion, mint juleps, horses and frou-frou hats.

Hats that could have their own zip code.

Hats that took three full grown peacocks molting feathers for two months to embellish.

Hats that make you laugh out loud for their audaciousness and yet still make you wish you could wear one.

My sister-in-law got to go to the Kentucky Derby this year and I don't mind telling you that I was absolutely a deep shade of emerald with envy.

It's not easy being green.

And she took some great pictures that I won't post here, but they just completely reaffirmed that I MUST go to the Derby, simply to ogle (and wear) hats.

Here are some pics from Derbys past:

This is my favorite.

I think my sister-in-law should've gone with something more like this....
(Honestly, I think this hat probably weighs as much as she does.)

This is the hat you'd want to sit behind....you'd actually see the race!

This photo shows all sorts of hats!

(I dearly love the dame in the center of the photo....she has had perhaps one too many celebratory juleps.)

So this was sort of an "Outrageous Hats" post, but aren't they fun?

Later this week, I'll show you what I'd really and truly wear, and what I really wish I had as part of my wardrobe!

Really.

Prepare to be stunned.

:)

Gardening Amnesia

I think I have a rather advanced case of it.

It's finally warm enough and calm enough and dry enough and I'm home enough to take a look at the state of the flower beds. 

Dismal, folks....exceedingly dismal.  I left last year's old annuals in the beds..."to feed the birds" (rolling of eyes by very neat and efficient gardeners, here) so I'm cleaning that out and realize that I really do need to invest in some plants and seeds this year.  Going with the self-reseeded sunflowers works for awhile, but it's starting to appear lazy and cheap, instead of charming and frugal.  Darn!

So I decided to make a list of what I needed and realized that I have Gardening Amnesia. 

I couldn't think of cool weather annuals to seed.  I couldn't remember the Latin name of columbine(aquilegia...came to me later).  I was frantic for perennial ideas and ended up having to go look in Lauren Springer and Rob Proctor's book "Passionate Gardening". 

This is serious, folks!

And it's going to take some intense horti-therapy to reverse the signs and progress.

Out come the gardening bibles I thought I'd memorized for life.

Three trips to EACH local greenhouse must be scheduled.

Seed packets must be replaced. I got all efficient and planted or threw out all of them last year. (Which is how this curse fell upon me; it's like giving away baby clothes.  You JUST don't EVER go into a year with no leftover seed packets. It's wrong. I don't know what I was thinking.)

I may have to have a *gasp* garden party, just to get some ideas from other people who are horticulturally healthy and unaffected by G.A.

The first step to recovery is acknowledgement of the problem. 
Now you know that I know and I'm on the path to recovery. 

Is anyone else experiencing this malady right now?  I need a support group.  And some perennials.

The Top 15 Things We Can Learn From the Movies...

I didn't come up with these....they're from my Farmer's Almanac....but they're too good not to share!

• Beds have special, L-shape top sheets that reach up to the woman's armpit but only to the waist of the man lying beside her.
• The ventilation system of any building is the perfect hiding place. No one will ever think of looking for you in there, and you can travel to any other part of the building without difficulty.
• Should you wish to pass yourself off as a German officer, it will not be necessary to speak the language.  A German accent will do. 
• A man will show no pain while taking the most ferocious beating but will wince when a woman tries to clean his wounds.
• A cough is usually the sign of a terminal illness.
• When confronted by an evil international terrorist, sarcasm and wisecracks are your best weapons.
• One man shooting 20 men has a better chance of killing them than 20 men firing at one man.
• Taxi drivers don't require exact or even approximate payment; the first bill you pull from your pocket is always correct.
• A detective can only solve a case once he has been suspended from duty.
• Most people keep a scrapbook of newspaper clippings, especially if any of their family or friends have died in a strange boating accident.
• All grocery shopping bags contain at least one stick of French bread.
• If a large pane of glass is visible, someone will be thrown through it before long.
• The Eiffel Tower can be seen from any window in Paris.
• You're likely to survive any battle in any war unless you make the mistake of showing someone a picture of your sweetheart back home.
• If you find yourself caught up in a misunderstanding that could be cleared up quickly with a simple explanation, for goodness' sake, keep your mouth shut.

Tea with the Princesses

Yesterday, the kids and I went to Miles City to have tea with the Princesses at the Ursuline Convent!

It's supposed to be for little girls, but Angus just HAD to go....because, you know, he has "handsome clothes" and any excuse to wear them is alright.  Even if he has to hang out with a bunch of chicks.

Here's a picture for Shelly, with the homecoming tiara on HRH.

We ALL dressed up.  Do you see the very fancy necklaces that Maggie and Angus made me? 

They go with everything.  :)

(You may wonder why the little faces are less than happy.  It's because we were taking up valuable time with silly pictures, when we could be headed to the tea!  So they grudgingly stood there, but they weren't happy about it.)

First princess we met?  Snow White!  AND had the bonus delight of finding cousins!  Miss Jentry found us immediately and we got to spend time with her and baby Javon.

They had all seven little dwarf beds!  There was no room to get all of them in a picture. 

Fancy cookies!  And pink lemonade...

Aren't they cute? There wasn't much left of the plate of cookies when we were done...

And Ariel, the Little Mermaid...

Okay, this is what it looked like on three floors, only even more packed in most places. Everywhere we tried to go, it was a swirling mass of little girls in princess dresses and parents.  We were completely overwhelmed!  I had no idea it would be that wild.

Angus found a sandbox by the Little Mermaid corner and he was completely happy to stay there and play in the dirt.  Next year, I think he can find something manly to do for the day, because he didn't really enjoy the whole princess experience.

Maggie came running to me, all agasp, "MOM! I found BELLE!"  and then she went back to dance and twirl.

 I took pictures of little girls that made me smile...I have no idea who they are, but isn't this the most adorable thing you've ever seen in sparkly blue harem pants?!

 And this princess cracked me up.  She was about 2 feet tall...just teensy...and VERY serious about the whole deal. 

Curtsy and then let's be moving on, Mom...no wasting time on this photo nonsense!

Tinkerbell...who isn't actually a princess, but no one cared.  She sprayed the little girls with pixie dust!

Getting fingernails painted, with sparkly polish.  They had to wait in line for this...a long line.

Princess Jasmine, who seemed to be Maggie's favorite because she had a magic carpet. (It was only magic to little girls with big imaginations.  For some, it was just a tired old rug! Maggie took it to China for noodles.)

She had purple eyeshadow and lip gloss done....

Oooooo! Pretty!

Pocahontas...

 Okay, this is for all you People of Walmart fans!  I couldn't get a great picture without being really obvious, so this was the best I could do.  In case you can't read the shirt, it says "Silence! I KEEL you!"  She looked as though she really might, too, which is ANOTHER reason I didn't want her to know I was taking her picture....

 Tired and sparkled, and ready to go to the Airport Inn for some protein and yet another party that we didn't know was going on....Martha's 60th birthday!  (Someday, a post about this waitress....she's my favorite.)

"Kevlar tutu strapped on tight!

Wand fully supercharged and safety is off."

-Amy Edwards

Once upon a time...

Isn't that how all the fairy tales start?
When I hear those words, I always want to snuggle down and listen, knowing the story will probably have a princess, a witch or evil character of some sort, a hero...generally a prince and some dreadful choice that must be made which will appear to be impossible.  And sometimes talking animals....enchantments and spells. For some reason, it's comforting to me to know all this will be following those four words. 

When I was young, I read the most fantastic things....but I was an incredibly practical child.  Can you believe that?  It's hard for me to even believe! I was very quiet, shy, a terrible bookworm, my favorite color was blue and I didn't really care for dolls or clothes or anything like that.  (My sister, the personal investigator, is always trying to figure out how I ended up being the exact and total opposite...to the core....of how I started out.)  I believed animals could talk, but the whole princess thing was lost on me.  Somewhere along the squiggly-snarled line of my life, I started embracing whimsy, so....

This morning, I watched the royal wedding.  And woke my daughter up to watch the royal wedding. And told her about the other two royal weddings I watched when I was younger.  And, yes, a tiara will be worn today to honor and commemorate the occasion. 

And the truly astonishing thing is that I do sort of find the whole thing very wonderful! 

There still are princesses!  And princes!  And they still ride off in carriages with all the pomp and fluff that they did in the fairytales I read.  There are still crowns and white gloves and titles and...yes....witches that show up in garden hats.  (Disguises, you know...)

I know there's no such thing as happily ever after.  Both of the royal weddings I watched in my youth ended sadly.  I dearly hope this one will not.

There are many who scoff today's event...mumbling and grumbling about it, upset that their regularly scheduled programming has been interrupted and stating that all the money put toward the wedding could've been used for some other purpose that would save countries and feed the hungry.  Of course.  But here's my thing: we are daily bombarded with news of war, famine, disasters that boggle our minds, crime and awfulness that I don't want to write of.  Today, there was a prince who married a girl who may someday be his queen.  They are young and beautiful and happy, and they rode to the castle in a carriage drawn by white horses.  And for an hour or so, I was about 6 years old, believing that there would be a happily ever after. I really needed that.

Once upon a time...

*Incidentally, tomorrow Maggie and I will be going to Miles City for High Tea with the Princesses, a special time that little girls can go in their fanciest dresses and do girly things for awhile at the Ursuline Convent.  Even dance with their favorite fairytale princess!  I don't know who's more excited, her or me....we're both going to wear our prettiest dresses and be as elegant as we can be.  I'm getting tummy tickles just thinking of it!

Ten reasons it's great to be a stay-at-home mom

10. When you dress up to go to “the office”, it usually means you are wearing your daughter’s plastic tiara or a very special sticker on your sweatshirt.

9. Coffee doesn’t have to wait for a break!

8. Exalted Keeper of the Potato Chips and Chocolate….with great power comes great responsibility.

7. Theoretically, you can take a shower any time of the day. I said “theoretically”…stop laughing.

6. There’s time to do vacuum cleaner karaoke to “Kokomo” between rooms.

5. Happy hour can start at 4:00 if you need it to….usually preceded by Unhappy Hour.

4. If the kids have a great new Disney movie and you have a basket of clothes to fold, you’re all booked solid for the next two hours.

3. Workout clothes, all day. (Just in case the urge to do aerobic sweeping strikes you or SHAPE magazine drops by unexpectedly for a random reader photo shoot. Hey, a girl can dream, right?!)

2. Dr. Suess, anytime, anywhere.

1. Sticky kisses and the proclamation that “You’re the best mom, EVER!”

It started out as a joke...

when my sister-in-law Pam, who knows how touchy I am about possibly being white trailer trash on the prairie, got us pink flamingos for Christmas one year. 

We put them around our mailbox.

You know...because if you're going to redneck out, you want the whole world to know.

We realized they needed to become a permanent fixture when our UPS and FedEx packages started showing up with little handdrawn roadmaps that said, "Turn S at pnk flmgos".

This winter was hard on them.  They were drifted under, then plowed over and smashed.  When the snow melted, we missed seeing them and decided that they needed to be replaced.

They're back!

And they're BIGGER.  And BRIGHTER. (As if that was possible...)

This picture was for Patricia, at Pollywog Creek, who lives in the land of real flamingos and alligators...

Montana swampland.

 Aren't they crazy fun?  Tacky as the day is long, if you turn south when you see them on the Two Furrow, you'll end up at the white trash trailer on the prairie.  We can sit on the 1950's metal lawn chairs and drink Bud Light from a can, eat Cheetos and talk about tornado sightings...

Easter Eggs

I've found that trying to blog about any holiday is just completely overwhelming to me, and instead of great epic posts, I just put my blog to rest until I'm quite sure the holiday has passed, hope that no one noticed, and continue on as though everything is normal. 

So I'm not going to go through a big long, moment-by-moment post full of heartwarming family pictures and stories.  But I love the Easter egg dying.  (Or "coloring" as we now have to call it, because Angus was horrified that eggs had to die for Easter.  It was distressing to no end for my tenderhearted little man, so now we color the eggs.)

Ready to get the job done...poor Angus has his mother's un-photo-genetics.

Concentrating....

 Yup.  It's blue alright! (After that, he just started grabbing cups and dropping eggs in them. 

We had to wait in line for the blue.  And orange. 

Maggie, instructing me in the proper techniques to achieve ultimate coloration. 

It worked!

 I really like the clear coffee cups for the colors...so vivid and deep.

Angus ended up with all his eggs, part of the Farmer's, part of mine and a couple extras. 

He was fast.  And not concerned in the least with perfect hue.

 Maggie took her time and made works of art....

My Mom brought these beautiful tulips! They looked great with my red kitchen walls.  So bright and fresh...

NOW can we brand her?

The OC herd doubled in size, last night a little after midnight!

Some of you have been reading the Chronicles long enough that you remember Daisy, my first bum calf here at the ranch.  For those new readers, here's a condensed version of the story...

Daisy was out of a two year old heifer that died from infection, we think.  She (Daisy) was a strong, big heifer calf that the guys could get grafted on to a cow, so she became my bum calf.  Most bums are puny, big bellied and, quite frankly, turn out sort of ugly and worthless.  Daisy was atypical, and turned into a really nice little heifer...not by anything I did, that's for sure. 

My father-in-law and I disagreed about keeping her.  She was out of a two-year old, and we generally don't keep those calves, because they're not as vigorous or big.  Her dam died after a pulling, two definite signs of weak traits in a cow.  She was a bum, for heaven's sake, and bums never turn out to anything. 

She kept making the cut....first, to be kept as a yearling, then to be bred, preg-tested and she came out bred...barely (not bred by many days, so she was expected to calve late), and made the winter without losing the calf.  She was only distinguishable, size and profile wise, by her OC tag....held her own against cow-raised calves. 

My brand is on the right side of the cow and the Langs Fork brand is on the left side.  All our equipment is set up for branding on the left.  And, as my father-in-law pointed out, at each sorting and saving, she might go down the road, so we really didn't need to brand her. 

NOW we can brand her!  She's not going anywhere, except out to the pasture with her calf.

I was the night calver last night, and at the midnight check, I saw that she had the bubble out (amniotic sac), so knew I needed to keep an eye on her.  It's not good to hover, so I went back to the shop for an hour and trotted back out, holding my breath. 

A perfect, strong heifer calf, already cleaned off!

She had her by herself, no pulling.
She cleaned her off and bedded her down in a pile of straw.
When I checked again at 3 a.m., the calf was up and sucking for all she was worth....

I can't express to you how excited I am!
And didn't realize I'd been holding my breath for two years over this little cow...
I've been smiling since 1 a.m....really.

Now, I want you to meet Rose (Rosie)!  Maggie named her the minute we had the ultrasound results.

Isn't she perfect? Go ahead...you can clap and smile... 

And here's Miss Daisy, good little mama cow....she didn't mind me coming in and taking pictures, but she wasn't really encouraging me to come any closer.  She sure cleaned that baby off nicely....coat all fluffed and dry.  I'm so proud of her.

Already exploring the world!  I think she'll do...

So there you go....a Farmer's Wife birth announcement!

STILL smiling....