Wow, the Anti-Gunners Are Out In Force Today...

Maybe it's just me, but there's a whole big ruckus going on in Arizona right now about Concealed Carry permit holders being allowed in establishments that serve alcohol.  The exeption is if the establishment posts a "No Weapons" sign.  Well, all you anti-gunners, go ahead and flock to the establishments with the "No Weapons" signs, because that's where the wolves will go too.  Me?  I'll take my chances that the gentleman at the next table is a CCW holder and is trained in how to effectively handle his weapon when the shit hits the fan.  See, the thing is, a whole heap of people believe that anyone who carries guns does it because they're blood thirsty, Dirty Harry wannabes.  While that probably is the case in a small percentage of people, it's not the majority.  Earlier today I was called a Redneck because I believe in my right to own, carry, and defend myself with my guns.  That's fine.  That person is absolutely entitled to his/her small minded opinion.  It's also that person's right to not own a gun, just as it is my right to own one.

Those of us who believe in being armed aren't asking the anti-gunners to "lock and load", so quit getting so damned offended that we want to be able to go out with our friends to a restaurant or a bar.  The majority of states that issue CCWs do not allow consumption of alcohol while carrying, so get your little panties out of a wad and get over yourselves.  It's the non-law abiding citizens you have to watch out for - the real bad guys.  And if you're lucky, that lady sitting at the next table over will be willing to risk her life to save yours when the wolves come a'calling.

See also: Sheepdogs

It's Pumpkin Time!

Since we're in the midst of hunting season, it's time to break out the Hunter Orange fashion wear.  When the fall colors hit, we take it to heart.  It's not just the leaves that are turning orange, gold, and red, the humans are too.  Well, maybe not gold and red, but orange.  Blaze orange.

The ride today was beautiful.  Estes hasn't been out since she got hurt a week or so ago and was pretty darn happy to go out.  There was no way we were going to be able to go out without Jesse, because she'd just hop the fence and join us anyway.  Bill offered to pony Jesse, so all four horses got to go.

The weather was beautiful and despite my raging head cold, I had a great time and enjoyed the scenery.

Cold's got ahold of me pretty good, so I'm going to cheat a little bit and just post a couple of pictures from today's ride.  Enjoy!

Thank You Easy Street!

A couple of weeks ago, I submitted an entry from Lyon's Roar to Easy Street's Writing Carnival Contest.  See What the French, Toast?  I felt good about it when I submitted it, but realized later that it was chock full of errors and didn't expect to hear anything other than "thanks for submitting".  Turns out it wasn't as horrible as I thought, as it won a "Must Read" award!  I can't tell you how excited I am about my FIRST EVER writing award, even if it is, essentially, a "runner-up" or "honorable mention" award.  Doesn't matter to me, it's still pretty damn cool!

Thanks Monda!

Random Rants

I hate Hollywood.  Well, not hate hate, but I'm pretty irate with them right now.  My car was overheating, so I pulled over and popped the hood to take a look at it.  The problem (besides the overheating car) was that I chose to wear my hair down today and didn't have an emergency hair tie in my car or on my wrist.  What, you're asking, does this have to do with Hollywood?  Let me tell you.  Long, silky flowing hair on a Hollywood actress working on a car is H-O-T.  Think Angelina Jolie in "Gone In 60 Seconds" or Megan Fox in "Transformers".  Case in point:  I just asked Jay and Devon what the hot actress' name was in Transformers and they didn't even have to think to pop out "Megan Fox."  WTF?

Now, let me tell you the reality.  It effing sucks!  My long, silky flowing hair was nothing but a pain in the ass today.  Every time I bent over the car to take a look, it fell in my face.  Or a breeze would come up and blow my hair across my eyes.  Or worse, it would blow my hair into my mouth.  Gag!  And there's nothing sexy about trying to hold your hair back with one hand and poke around the engine with the other.  At least nothing sexy enough for anyone to stop and help.  Maybe being a size zero with double D boobs is also a requirement, not just the long, silky flowing hair.  I hate Hollywood.

And while I'm totally on a bitch, let's talk about iPods.  I'm the only one in the house without some sort of music player, so I whined at my boss and told him I deserved one for all of the referrals I've gotten for the school.  He gave me one.  Now I want to shove it up his arse!  I got brave, dug it out and plugged it into the computer to start putting some music on it.  Let the cussing begin.  I got it plugged in, registered it with Apple and tried to set up my library.  It took me exactly TWO songs to decide it's not f*cking worth it.  I found the music on my computer that I wanted to put on it, but can I just click and drag?  NO!  Can I choose more than one song to load at a time?  NO!  It was all I could do to keep from chucking the effing mess out the picture window, including the computer.  One of the kids is going to have to load my iPod because just the thought makes me homicidal.  I'm sure once the damned thing is loaded, I'll like it just fine, but until then my boss better not turn his back to me or I may just pull a "Man On Fire" on him.

Bill's Sharps Container

So I took a Sharps Container up to my parents' Lodge,

I had intended them to use it for the penicillin needles from Estes,

Instead, Bill saw a more practical use for it:

Washoe's Little Rodeo

Went for a ride with Mom and Bill today in the Wild Basin area.  Estes got hurt on Tuesday when she got spooked and ran off a ledge in the pen, and unfortunately, used a chewed up tree stump as her brakes.  Since she was out of commission I had to Cowgirl Up and ride Washoe the Wonder Idiot.  Except today, he wasn't really a Wonder Idiot, he was remarkably well behaved.  I wouldn't go so far as to re-name him Washoe the Wonderful, but maybe Washoe the Not-Such-A-Big Idiot.

He behaved like a grown-up horse for the most part.  He balked a little bit crossing the first set of bridges, but then so did Jesse and Ranger.  Bill finally dismounted and led Ranger across the bridge.  Once the horses saw that there were no horse-eating trolls, they all followed like good little mutts.

There was only one time when Washoe really tested me, but he actually had a reason this time.  The last time I rode Washoe, he fell off the side of a trail and then popped me off his back.  He didn't actually buck that time, he just wasn't strong enough to stand up from his kneeling position, so when he hopped up, I got popped off.

We rode through a cloud of horse flies on our way back to the trailer.  He did a pretty good job of just dealing with the flies, but then one got a chunk of his butt and he set to crow hopping.  Bill said he wished he had his camera out, because Washoe cleared a foot and a half.  I managed to stay on - in actuality, I was so stunned that he was pseudo-bucking that it never occurred to me not to stay on - and get him calmed down a little bit.  He calmed down enough to stop jumping around, but his tail was going a mile a minute and he was tossing his head trying to get rid of the buggers. I can't blame him at all for today's little rodeo - if horse flies were biting *my* ass, I'd throw a temper tantrum, too. 

All in all, a damn fine day.

What the French, Toast?

I don't know what overcame me this weekend.  I spent, sadly, the majority of the day sitting in my bed yesterday working on my blogs and having a grand ole time.  A friend of mine, Lisa, who I met as a wrangler, sent me a link to a writing contest.  Hell, why not?  Except that the theme is "Invisible Writing", wow.  I write, but do I want it to be invisible?  I spent the afternoon thinking about how I would write the essay for that contest.  I'm still mulling it over - I've been an Invisible Writer for a long time.  My whole life I've been a writer, sometimes my writing brain causes me problems.  I can't just see a trash bag alongside the road - nnnooooooo - in my brain there's always a dead body or body part in it.  I often see things that aren't really there.  Example, when Jay and I were in Moab there was a tall dead something-or-other on the side of the trail.  When I saw it, I would have sworn that it was a small Bobcat (the farm equipment, not the animal).  It wasn't until we were practically on top of it and the angle changed that I realized it was a dead tree of some sort.

But I digress, I have been an Invisible Writer.  Do I want to be?  Hell, no!  I think that revelation lead, in part, to today's events.  I hopped on Blogger just like I do every morning and what's sitting there but a an announcement about a writing contest.  Why not?  I read the requirements, set up a new blog for Lyon's Roar (http://gundiva-lyonsroar.blogspot.com/), dusted off a piece I haven't handled in a long time, and submitted it.  When I was done with that, another post came up with another writing contest, this time a non-fiction animal essay.  Again, why not?  I've already got my Tales from the Trail (http://gundiva-talesfromthetrail.blogspot.com/) up and running.  Why not submit one of those posts?

I won't ever be a Visible Writer if I don't put my work out there for people other than my friends and family to see.  I've got to tell you, it's terrifying.  And exhilarating.