Blue Ridge blog

Happy Birthday Baby!

I stalked the mother of this foal for a couple of days prior to her giving birth with hopes to be near for the blessed event. I saw Mama the day before yesterday just standing in the middle of the field looking rather pissed at life in general. I empathized with her then. Today, she was much relieved--even though she would occasionally nip at the hind quarters of her youngin' when it got to sucklin' too hard at the ninny. Again, there was much empathy.
Me thinks the higher being made all babies so dang fuzzy wuzzy so we wouldn't pinch their little heads off too soon...
Here's a thought: I wonder if little horsey breath smells like puppy breath? Mama horse would not let me get close enough today to answer this question...but now I am on the quest.

And, on my family front: Tonight is the first night in almost forever I haven't had something to do for somebody somewhere. And, I don't have to travel anywhere outside of Watauga County till next weekend. And, the family is vaguely healthy for like the first time in forever. This has been the winter of my discontent and I'm ready for summer by the sun of something better....

Out and about horsing around...

Fleeting Beauty...

Yesterday evening I watched this frothy white cloud painted multi-colores by the setting sun. After several minutes, it eventually made its way across the mountains only to be broken apart by lofty winds and disappear. I marveled at it and hoped I was not the only one to witness its creation and departure. As I loaded my photos onto my laptop, my youngest looked over my shoulder.
"Ohhh such a pretty cloud," she said.
"Which one should I put on my blog?" I asked.
This is the one she chose.

Will work for Milkbones....

Went to the Mast General Store this afternoon and saw my buddy, John Doe. He said to me, " Pay no attention to the Milkbones behind the gingham curtain, except if'n you want to toss me one."  I obliged.  Do notice he is wearing an employee name tag. Yup, John Doe is the top pup round those parts. His duties include keeping the seats warm around the pot bellied stove and waggin his tail for the tourists.

Just me, myself and my Nikon on Strawberry Hill in Boone, North Carolina

The gods converged today upon Boone, North Carolina and perhaps in a fit of Bacchus induced laughter announced a brief winter reprieve from frigid temps. And just like every single human being in the area, I headed outdoors to witness the event--and we were all looking over shoulders wondering and waiting for a Snap n Pop effect of meteors to screw with us. Thankfully the gods still like us, but
Note to college co-eds: Time to get pedicures. Even I noticed the sock lint wedged underneath toenails...
Then, my Nikon was hinting at some bonding time, so just the two of us headed up to Strawberry Hill--a relatively unknown historic spot overlooking the Horn in the West parking lot and Daniel Boone Native Gardens..
Not sure why it is historic, but there is a pleasant stone veranda shaded by an oak tree (in summer, obviously) from which to watch the world below. There is also a monolith fountain dedicated with a brass plate to T.K Pease in 1978. The fountain does not work. It is obvious that folks smoke pot and drink a beer up on Strawberry Hill as evidenced by the litter scattered on the ground.
But on a day like today, who needs mind altering drugs when the sun and the breeze and the gods are benevolent?

And so after this is gone, Lent begins...

Happy Mardi Gras, y'all. Youngest sent me a text message this morning: "I really miss King Cakes with the little baby inside," she wrote. "But you were only three when we lived in Louisiana. How do you remember?" I asked. "I just do. Please make me one?" she replied. I knew there was no way I was gonna make her one today, but wondered if such a creation could be scored in Watauga County. The answer is 'Heck yeah." I walked into Stick Boy Bread not really giving it much hope, but if'n a place in Boone is gonna have something out of the ordinary, this mom and pop shop would. I was not disappointed. The King Cake tastes awesome even if Stick Boy doesn't fill them with assorted cream cheese fillings like the ones in New Orleans. Also, they don't hide a plastic baby inside. Instead, they put a gummi bear so 'kids don't choke on it." Regardless, youngest was delighted to find this brioche on the kitchen countertop when she returned home from dance this evening.... Ok, I just made that last part up because Youngest couldn't give a flip about the King Cake since she had moved on to her next teenage whim/drama so I'm forced give myself my own a pat on the back.
Snaps for Mom.

Blog Fodder

Heh, real live blog fodder. I was stalking my favorite crow hangout in Valle Crucis (behind the Mast Store Annex) and was taken aback by the silvery-gray tone of leftover leaves of corn from which the yellowish shuck of picked over corn stood out. Not sure the silvery black and white image comes through, but the color of the corn sure does. This image is untampered.

Confessions from the sideline...

It is just plain fun, and not work to watch DJ Thompson. I'd even pay to see him play.  Watch this video and see him yourself. Sigh. I join Natalie in wishing more ASU fans would come to the games.

Driving me...

I didn't get any closer to the water than this. It was roughly 6:30 a.m. and I quickly stood outside with a wet towel on my head to take this photo from the balcony. I returned safely to the mountain, though weary from driving through tourist traffic at both the beach and to the ski slopes. Eldest is happy with her running performance. Youngest is feeling better today, that is, if you gauge wellness by the number of bite s eaten of Kraft's Macaroni and Cheese. Husband survived duties as nursemaid and chief laundry washer. It is snowing just enough up here to be pretty but not disruptive and now Marie is going to pour herself a well deserved weekend glass of cabernet...

Just Stuff

For weeks this ghost weed has caught my attention by waving it's little scrawny fingers at me while it sits at the base of  Killer Hill, the affectionate name we give a particularly steep part of our driveway.  What do you think it is saying to me? That is what I wondered as I actually stopped to take it's portrait. I'm so stupid, sometimes.

So...I'm not in the mountains this evening (Friday). Instead, I'm sitting alone in some skanky dive on the Grand Strand in Myrtle Beach. I knew I was in trouble the moment I entered the lobby and heard god awful karaoke screaming from the bar. Everybody sing with me now, "I got friends in lowly places." But, at least this haunt has free wireless internet--unlike other places I know.   My eldest daughter is running in the Myrtle Beach Marathon way too early in the morning. Actually, she is only running a half marathon, but it is her longest race so far. Husband and youngest daughter were gonna join me, but were rudely interrupted by a violent puke fest. 'Nuff said.

I must go to bed. My hopes for tomorrow are that 1) Eldest daughter is pleased with her performance. 2) Youngest daughter feels better. 3) I get a glimpse at my daughter as she runs. 4) I dip my big toe in the cold Atlantic and then take a photo. 5) Return safely back to the fold before the puke bug catches me...

Night y'all.

Oh wait, wait, wait. I almost forgot to talk about Appalachian football. I heard this rumor the other night at the basketball game...but it is now official. OMG. Only thing better is if we played the Buckeyes or Florida State. I oh so know who Melissa  is pulling for in this contest...