Sheepies!

There was a 4-H competition at the fairgrounds, and after leaving the doors open to draw in some air, I heard more about how the hind quarters of farm animals should be more developed than I ever wanted to know. What are they supposed to do, squat thrusts?

But it was all just so interesting that I had to venture outside. Approaching teenagers and asking if you can take pictures of their sheep illicit strange looks. Lots of strange looks. And then you explain that you're a city girl, your sister is a city girl, and despite her being 23 years old, she still squeals with glee whenever driving past a sheep farm. Then they look at you with pity and agree to let you take a few shots.

So, without further ideas, Sheepies!



They get cleaned with Woolite. And Febreeze. Makes sense, when you think about it. Same material, its just still growing.



But there coats are made from cotton. And the most stylish ponchos too.



Meanwhile, the pigs are bored. Like good little supermodels.



And to round out the cloven hooves, we have a cow, who was pretty and black. She took second place.

There may have been chickens somewhere, but I did not see them.

I've used half a tank of gas in a car that gets exceptionally (in comparison to my jeep) good gas mileage, and was not expecting to be out in the sun all day helping a bunch of high school kids pick up trash. Note to self, SPF 15 in face moisturizer is probably meant for jaunts into sun, not hours and hours. Use extra powder on nose tomorrow. But that's a story for another time.

From the middle of nowhere,
Lily

Tales from the Roadtrip- Utah's Rodent Problem

An hour outside of Salt Lake City, there sits what might be one of the prettiest rest stops in the country.



But there's a menace, lurking, waiting for all of the travelers who might stop by.



He looks like he just wants a peanut. So cute. What harm could he bring?



He'll lure in your children, and then, just when you don't expect it...



They give you the plague!

These poor little Russian boys, they have no idea what hit them.

I don't know if these are prairie dogs or something else, but they sure were cute, and really friendly.

Happy Birthday Ma!

Happy Fronday! That's Friday to everyone else, and Monday to me. And what a Fronday it has been. This weekend was spent giving a bunch of Buddhist monks a 3 hour tour of the jail site, washing the kitchen floor, discovering (okay, not discovering because we've all been skirting the puddle of water in the middle of said kitchen floor for the last week) that there is a leak in the kitchen sink, my roomy and I trying to fix said leak, trying to write, getting distracted by anything but... My to-do list is complete, and I even got to go on a lovely 6 mile hike. Okay, it was a walk. But it was on a dirt road, so shouldn't that count as a hike? No? But I was wearing hiking boots!

Where does that leave me on Monday/Friday/I don't even care what day it is? I actually woke up on time this morning! Only to be made late by trying to curl my hair/cover up the roots. It's been 8 weeks, and it was on my to-do list. It was the 1 item on my to-do list that did not get done, but I'm trying to forget that. The inch and a half of dark brown isn't letting me though. Bummer. So I was almost late. Not quite. I would have been, but that is totally to blame on the farmers fixing the sprinkler/irrigation/I don't know what on the road.

I got to have my 3 week check-in with my boss's boss, who says I'm great at the researching/remembering facts side of things. Maybe when I'm done here I'll get a job researching for a museum. That might be even more boring than this. What is that job title even called? Especially for a museum exhibit design company? My guess is I'll find out.

Now I want cake. But what's that, the cake is 1000 miles away at home and has Happy B-day Mom written on it? And will probably burn down because of all the candles? That much I'm kidding on. She has good enough lungs to blow them out before they burn down the house. Wish I was there. Happy Birthday Mom, I'm glad you were born. You probably would have whipped my butt on that hike, if you weren't staring at all of the pretty birdies.

Strange Radio Ads

Radio ads can either be fantastic, horrible, or some mix in between. There's a great example of this with a community college ad where they repeat the same annoying line over and over and over for about 3 minutes. No idea what the school was, just remember it had something to do with radio broadcasting and I always changed the station.

Driving through Wyoming though (oh Wyoming) there was one I'm not entirely sure if it was a joke or not. For shockaholics anonymous. If you started out with licking 9volts, moved to sticking tweezers in electric outlets (pretty blue sparks!) and now abuse car batteries on a regular basis, give them a call. Then there was a name of some electric company, so either someone has a FANTASTIC sense of humor, heightened by a somber voice, or those ranchers are just REALLY bored. And have possibly been informed of the dangers of sniffing glue.

Then, coming into work this morning, the radio suggested that I buy a day pass on Basin Transportation Service! I don't need a destination, and can ride all day! Bring the kids, sing the wheels on the bus, a great learning opportunity! And annoy all of the other people looking at the farmland using the tour bus, sans tour. But you do get to sit next to bag ladies mumbling under their breath.

Oh radio, what have you become since Amos and Andy?

A Semi-Quiet Fronday

Have you ever had a day that started out quiet and then kinda wasn't? Around here, even the busy days are pretty quiet, because I think I work for one of America's least visited National Monuments. So not only have I determined I'm not a ridiculously small town girl, I also need to be around people. Not a Starbucks on Wall Street type of people (I would imagine that would be quite crowded) but still a lot of people. Today, this lovely Fronday where the birds are chirping and the sun is shining, started out to be a quiet day.

By the way, I'm calling it Fronday thanks to my sister, Katie. I have Wednesdays and Thursdays off, so Friday is my Monday. For everyone else, its the end of the week, for me, its Monday, hence Fronday. Which sounds a lot more fun than it actually is.

So, the quiet day got off to a meandering start, and after my boss left because no one showed up for either of the tours and she's having emergency dental surgery early next week-- it has something to do with wisdom teeth and a tomato seed-- things got hectic. We had 12 visitors this afternoon. In the course of 3 hours. This is not the crazy part. The crazy part includes the guy from the B&B wanting a tour for 45 people on the 4th of July, same day we have a pilgrimage of 500. Then these bikers came in and requested a tour for 150. Luckily this isn't until the end of August. I'm kinda looking forward to taking 150 bikers on a historical tour.

Then a crazy guy came into the office we share with the fair grounds and started yelling about how Americans in Japan at the same time were subjected to Harry Kerry, so why don't we honor them. Then I found $10. Not really.

Anywhere else, this might be the most boring day in history. But here, here I live for even the tiniest bit of excitement.

Time to Admit it, I'm Sick

I arrived in California a week and a half ago, and within three days my nose started running and my throat got all scratchy-like. I blamed it on allergies. Why? Because I was allergic to orange blossoms as a kid, flowers in general FOREVER (which sucks anytime someone decides to get romantic/my parents are convinced by the sorority I need flowers), and couldn't breath anytime cotton woods decides the ground looks better covered in their white fluff. These haven't bothered me for several years, but hey, I live in the middle of farm land. Maybe its time, right? Right?

And then I woke up this morning to a huge beetle crawling on my foot and the scream that came out of my mouth sounded like that of a sumo wrestler who'd removed his vocal cords. I've used an entire box of tissues in the last two days, and generally feel like I'm going to die. So it's time to admit it. I have been slain by a summer cold. I'm gonna go curl up in a ball and microwave some soup.

Why would anyone live in Wyoming?

The winds in Wyoming suck! I don't know why anyone in their right mind would settle there. Once upon a time, the Land Management Bureau offered land at $1.94 an acre, based on people improving the land. That generally amounted to a claims shack because nothing grows there higher than shrubs. Its not that its above the tree line, there's just nothing there. Sheep and cattle outnumber people. By a lot. Winds blow as fast as people can drive on super highways. Why would anyone live in Wyoming? Really?

And yet, its absolutely beautiful. I'd show you the pictures I took, but I left my camera cord in Colorado. It's coming, probably through Wyoming, but it'll be a while. There's a reason Yellowstone is located in the state. Even through the miles and miles of unending prairie, the hurricane force winds (without the rain, occasionally with the tornadoes) there's a way the light falls on the grass, the rocks, and the horizon that is unlike anything else. It's not as flat as Kansas, that's saying something.

And besides, I grew up in Colorado, where I used to grab onto light posts to keep from blowing away at the bus stop. Oh, I was 8, stop laughing.

Ode to Stinky Water

I should have figured
that first night in the bath
When the water came out hot,
but smelling of eggs.

It smelled rotten,
as the temperature slowly rose,
But the pipes hadn't been used in a while,
So who was I to know?

Then there were the bottles,
5 gallons each,
lined up on the kitchen wall,
7 layers deep.

The next morning I noticed a sign,
Above the kitchen sink,
Saying that what came out of the faucet,
Was not safe to eat or drink.

The water in my house is apparently loaded with sulfides, which makes it smell super pleasant. There's also a lovely hard water stain in both my toilet and sink that I have tried and tried to scrub at with toilet cleaner, scrubbing bubbles, bleach, and vinegar. None of those, mixed with a fair quantity of elbow grease, has removed the water marks. Eh, I'm only here for 4 months, what does it matter?

On the plus side, though my hair is very greasy (gotta figure out how to mix new age shampoo and conditioner with old water filters) my skin is super soft. Benefits of basically living in a spa.