Distractions.

My distraction has been immense lately. I'm not sure when it started, but it's been bad. I had been distracted by Hound Dog being sick. After she died I was having dreams of late night howling that would wake me up and prevent me from returning to a peaceful slumber. As the dreams subsided, Taco distracted me by coughing and sputtering, peeing in the house and buzzing around my feet. Then...Jolene left her PSP Player here, on purpose I think to distract me further.
Fly Dog, the Border Collie came to visit which of course distracted me and now this morning I'm distracted by her absence. I was distracted by the badger over at Gaffney's ranch, so much so that I had to stop and take pictures.Then of course I was so distracted by the thunder and lightning that I didn't think to check to make sure that important appliances still had power, like the freezers. So now, I have to pick a steer to butcher because I'm not ready to be distracted by store bought meat.

I've been distracted by memories, the kind that hurt a bit but you're glad that they are still stored in a bank someplace. I was so distracted that I neglected to study for my Firefigher I and Hazmat Operations tests. I was even distracted by the chicken killing thief and trying to remind Shelly to call the farrier. Good thing the farrier called us, as I was distracted by trying to remember and ended up forgetting to remind Shelly. Whew! So many distractions.

Friday morning, Shelly coerced me into helping her chore at Phoenix Ranch. That means I had to feed and water dogs there, complain about the smell of dog poo in the summer sun, and try and avoid bees. I hate chores at Phoenix. I hate Shelly's lack of organization more. A job that should take less than an hour, usually takes at least two and then you have to add in travel time and Shelly's extra piddling, and time for chit chatting at Evergreen Station. By the time we got back to the ranch it was around 1pm. I was starving, hot, cranky, thirsty, and distracted by events of the previous day. As Shelly drove by the cow pasture, I notice Jersey posturing funny. Like she's calving. Jersey couldn't be calving though. When we purchased her in January we got her at a discounted price because she was not bred. The guy that sold her said to me, "That cow will poo gold bricks before she calves." According to the guy she had been a nurse cow for three calves, and wasn't anywhere near a bull. I'd been so distracted that I accounted for Jersey's wide girth as a propensity for obesity. So when I saw her dancing around and acting weird, I did not equate it to a new baby. I should have but I didn't. I was so overcome by hunger I suppose. I commented to Shelly about the bovine's behavior and instructed her to keep on driving, I needed food. Later on in the day, Shelly and I ventured on down to the barn to do afternoon chores. On the way, Shelly throws a minute fit at the corner of the cow pasture, almost throwing me off the ATV. There sat Jersey Cow with an itty bitty "How now brown cow." Wonder what I might be distracted by today.

Amazing Women, Mother, Aunt, Friend.

Abbe Kay McDaniel

April 1, 1966 ~ July 8, 2010

LAYTON - Abbe was born in Albuquerque New Mexico April 1st, 1966 to George and Sally Wynn where she lived until the age of 12, when she moved with her family to Saguache, Colorado.

In rural Saguache Abbe thrived living the country lifestyle and enjoyed horseback riding and raising lambs. She attended Mountain Valley High School where she graduated salutatorian in 1983. It was during her years in High School that she met her future husband Michael McDaniel. After graduation Abbe attended College at Colorado State University in Ft. Collins Colorado where she took a class that would lead to her lifelong passion of floral design.

In 1987 Abbe moved to Salida with her golden retriever Bailey to be with her fiancé and began work in the Salida Flower Shop. The owners, Dick and Janet Murphy took Abbe under their wing and into their hearts. Abbe soon found she had a second family in the Murphy’s who treated her like the daughter they never had.

On December 31st, 1988 Michael and Abbe were married in a log cabin in Salida. With friends and family, they celebrated in country fashion a bond that would last 21 years.

In 1991 the McDaniels began a new adventure as Mike found work in Alaska. Abbe was able to continue her carrier in floral design at the Eagle River Safeway flower shop. In typical fashion Abbe soon had many friends and found great enjoyment there. On July 12, 1993 Abbe and Mike welcomed their beautiful daughter Sally Morgan McDaniel and 4 years later on July 11, 1997 her “best boy”, Jarred Michael McDaniel came into their lives.

Although Abbe and Mike were happy together with their little family and circle of friends in Alaska they decided that it was time to return to the “lower 48”. In the summer of 1998 they made the long move to Layton Utah. Once established in Layton Abbe went to work for the Window Box Flower Shop, and for the next ten years she continued to learn more about the industry and become an accomplished floral designer. Abbe considered everyone at the Window Box an extension of her family.

Abbe and her family found enjoyment in the opportunity to travel and explore the sights and attractions of the country, especially Maui. The beautiful beaches and warm waters helped rejuvenate her soul.

Never one to shy away from a challenge Abbe found many new outlets for her energy, from home remodeling projects with her husband to circuit training with her friends she found many ways to enrich her life. One of the most rewarding challenges of Abbe’s life was raising puppies for the nonprofit organization Guide Dogs for the Blind. She found the task both fun and rewarding as each of her five dogs graduated and became working guide dogs.

In the spring of 2009 Abbe was diagnosed with cancer. It was at this time Abbe began her long and courageous battle with the disease. With the help of her loving sister Sherri and a team of excellent medical professionals Abbe was able to spend the next year and a half with her family. Ultimately she was unable to defeat the disease and on July 8th, 2010 passed away peacefully at home with her family by her side.

Abbe will be remembered by her family and friends as an extraordinary woman, passionate florist and loving wife and mother.

Funeral services will be held Tuesday, July 13, 2010 at 11 a.m. at Lindquist’s Layton Mortuary, 1867 N. Fairfield Road with interment following.

Friends may visit family from 9:45 to 10:45 a.m. at the mortuary.

Donations can be made in Abbe’s name to: Guide Dogs for the Blind P.O. Box 3950 San Rafael, CA 94912-3950 or www.guidedogs.com or call 800-295-4050.

Gone but a resident still in my memories.

Today my Aunt Abbe passed away. I remember her for many things, many laughs, a few good cries (although she would never admit it.) and a mental image of horse poop smashed into a young boy's face. We will get to the poop.

Abbe was married to my Uncle Mike, my mother's youngest sibling. She and Mike dated in high school, that's when I met her. Soon Abbe and Mike became "Abbe and Mike". She popped corn for Grandma at the theater and attended the important family functions like painting the picket fence over spring break. She fit in splendidly. She accepted being teased by Pop, tickled my brother and I when needed, and explained to me what "Hunting for Swordfish and Tuna" really meant. Shortly after Mike graduated high school he moved to Salida, slept on our couch and helped Pop out at the Salvage Yard. Abbe would visit on weekends and make fun of his bell bottom work pants. She would patiently hang out with me and even take rides on my push pull merry go round while waiting for Mike to walk through the front gate in his not-so fashionable duds. A few years later after she had graduated she and Mike lived down the street from us. My freshman year of high school, Charlie C. and I attended the Homecoming dance together. Abbe reminded me for several days prior to the dance to be sure and bring my date to their house so that she and Mike could meet him. I made Charlie walk the half block to their house. While there, Abbe offered him a wine cooler and complimented him in his stripped pants. It was awkward, but I have always remembered it. Aunt Abbe, as many aunts and uncles did, would ask me about my swimming from time to time. I always gave Abbe a full report as she knew exactly what a I.M. was. I never needed to explain the finer points of my sport to her. She had a Golden Retriever named Bailey that had a black mark on his tongue. It looked like someone had taken a Sharpie marker and put it there. One evening when my younger brother and I were visiting for "Game Night" I noticed the black mark. Abbe convinced me that when Bailey was young her neighbor had a dog that look very much like her dog and that sometimes she mixed them up. In order to fix the mix-up problem she marked Bailey's tongue with a permanent marker. I believed her for a long time. Right up until she overheard me telling the story to someone else. When Abbe and her family moved to Alaska, I remember her worrying about Bailey making the flight safely. She had quite the connection with animals. When I got the news of her passing today, I had a flash of a picture of her and her 4H sheep that Uncle Mike had on his dresser. ( I was a nosy kid.) So these are few things I remember of Abbe. Along with being an incredible mother, aunt and friend I also remember the "Poop face story." I don't remember all the players, have no idea who the unfortunate kid was. I only know he wore glasses. Abbe told me this story once, and I have yet to forget the look on her face as she told it. One afternoon Abbe and her sister were riding horses in town. I can only assume the town was Saguache. She explained that they had been riding near the edge of the street when they encountered an oncoming vehicle so her sister crossed the street to ride on the opposing side until the car passed. For whatever reason, her sister stayed on the opposite side of the street for awhile. As the pair continued riding, two young boys were racing up behind them on bicycles. The boy in lead repeatedly turned to look behind him. Apparently the boy spent too much time looking behind him and did not pay attention to the large equine rump in front and slammed into Abbe's sister's horse. Just in time as the horse had lifted it's tail and was leaving a pile for the city street cleaners. Abbe would explain that the horse didn't seem to flinch. The poor boy had poo in his mouth, up his nose and between his glasses and his eyes. He was sputtering and spitting as one might expect. Abbe cracked up laughing. Abbe could tell stories about poop. She would get the same look when she would retell the story of Jared projectile pooping on Mike and how she never did get the stain out of his shirt.

Just a few memories. RIP Aunt Abbe.

Busy Days and Weeping Nights

It's been a bit of a nightmare here on the homestead. My lovely Bloodhound, Hound Dog passed away on Wednesday morning. She'd been sick for about a week. We'd been treating her for pneumonia and she seemed to be making improvements everyday but early Wednesday morning took a turn. Shelly was incredible. She gave me lots of hugs and understood why I had to leave the ranch when the vet came to put her down. Shelly buried her for me and cleared the house of the obvious reminders. I did okay until breakfast yesterday when I went looking for my slobbery dog to share the crust of my toast with.


We wasted no time in filling the slot on the dog roster though. I am so thankful that I can provide homes for all of my animals and I believe that they have a great quality of life in our family. Shelly has been wanting a "little" dog for a long time now. I honestly don't understand little dogs. I sometimes lose Virus dog and it's because of his size. Anyway, I promised Shelly her pick of a little dog as long as it was a rescue. We headed down to the Humane Society of the Pikes Peak Region after chores yesterday and came home with a little Chihuahua named Taco. So far all is well. Taco has been quarantined for a bit as he has a bit of the flu that was sweeping through the shelter. He's on oral antibiotics and does not take them easily. He's a squirrely guy.

I neglected to get pictures or even provide customers with an update on the chickens. They are doing fine. I've been down to feed and water each day but haven't been able to tell stories or sing (horridly) to them in several days. I don't think it will effect the taste of the meat too much. The layers are still confined to the coop yard as I have not given the fox an eviction notice yet. They are still annoyed with me.

To top everything off, I've had to dry off my Jersey cow open an account on the "Chica Chica Brown Cow" internet dating site in hopes of finding her a beau. I've been lucky enough to find a few prospects. In the meantime I'm looking to lease a Jersey or Brown Swiss in milk in hopes of feeding my addiction to raw milk. I still have my goats but the cream from the cows is oh so sweet.

I'm looking forward to an afternoon nap, even though I probably will never get one. 'At's OK, I have a wonderful life even with all the busyness and the drama.

Chicken Update!

Just a day late this time. We've been busy here. I've had to push back the date for the plucking party as my "neck slicer" has a high school reunion. She went to the same school as I did, scary stuff. Can't believe I may be attending my 20 year reunion next summer. Then again maybe not, not sure if anyone is even planning one. Anyway on to the chickens. They continue to do well. They have been restricted to the coop yard as I have a fox or a hawk picking off layers. They seem to be content as long as they have a pile of food in front of them.

FRY BREAD!

Yesterday, after taking Grandpa Larry to dinner in the Creek the girls and I came back home for some much needed veggin'. Shelly and Jolene settled into the family room with a bad movie and talk of tomorrow's chores. I headed off to the room to snuggle with my Pepsi Cat and to watch some cooking show. Generally when I beam the TV to the Food Network I make sure that I have just eaten. It's kind of like going to the grocery store. It's important to have a full tummy. Since I had just finished some yummy catfish, red beans and rice, and part of Jolene's oyster Po Boy I really thought I was safe. I got myself a big glass of sweet tea, propped up my pillows and settled in. I started watching a rerun of Alton Brown's, "Dining on Asphalt." He was traveling through Missouri, Kansas, Colorado and Utah. He even made a stop in La Junta at the Copper Kitchen. I called Jolene in so she could see that part of the segment. She was amazed. Jolene hung around the bedroom for a few minutes and chatted about the events of the upcoming day. Suddenly Alton was in Mancos CO. Jolene left and Alton started making FRY BREAD! I was suddenly hungry and ready to fry some flour. When I was young, oh so many years ago, I enjoyed many Saturday afternoons at my Grandma McDaniel's house with a mouthful of fry bread. My Grandparents McDaniel lived in Saguache CO. They owned and operated the Ute Theater for many years. My grandma worked at the courthouse and grandpa at the sawmill. Certain things in life life remind me of my childhood, a smell or a sound. Fry bread is one of those things. So, the force was just too much for me to handle yesterday and I had to make some. Since, for some reason (that is completely unexplainable to me and incomprehensible) I have no cast iron cookware, I cheated a bit and fried it in the deep fryer. It was pretty good, not Grandma Mac good but still good. Halfway through my second helping the pager went off and Shelly and I had to head out to get the ambulance. BUMMER! Maybe it was the universe looking out for me in some weird way, I would have eaten too many had I not had to leave. I ate too many anyway.

It's Chicken Time Again.

That title sounds like an old country song. Oh wait, maybe that should be "It's Crying Time Again." I'm not crying though. Chicken update...I'm on time this week and the chickens are doing awesome. I had a few getting a bit top heavy so I backed off on the high protein feed and gave them a couple days of a general flock maintenance feed. I allowed them out of the coop for a a couple of hours yesterday to roam around the long grass under the trees. Things are coming along great. They are five weeks old today. Three more weeks until BEER CAN CHICKEN Q!