Sunday, February 3, 2013

Straw & Betrayal

Hey, Porterhouse, we're going to put straw down beneath your shelter so your up out of the mud.  Don't touch it.  Don't mess with it.

For in the day that thou mess with or eatest thereof thou shalt surely die.

Got it?  Be right back.

And when the steer saw the straw could be good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a thing to be desired to make one wise, 

He took of the straw thereof, and did eat and did swallow thereof and did exactly what his master toldest him not to do.

Oh well, it's B-Lowe's problem now.  B-Lowe starts the process of spreading the straw out on the cold, hard ground for Mr. Arby's back there.

"What happened to some of this straw?" B-Lowe asked.  I purposely kept silent so as to put pressure on the bovine so as to make him explain himself.  

And the steer said, "The woman whom thou gavest to care for me, she gave me of the straw and I did eat."

*Gasp!*  And the woman replied to the bovine, "Because thou hast done this, thou art cursed above all cattle!  In seven months, thou shalt dwell in tiny white packages inside my freezer!  No matter what, I win!!"

Stinkin' steers!

Saturday, February 2, 2013

Genuine, Bonafide, Lead Bullets

I'm out of commission with vertigo so my handsome prince is making bullets with a real live melting pot in the garage.  I tried to capture the moments for you but some of the pictures are blurry.  This could be because:

1. B-Lowe's movements were quick due to the handlement of hot, liquid lead, or;

2. My vertigo.  It's a toss up.

This is hot, liquid lead in a casting furnace.  It would melt your face off.  

B-Lowe pulls a lever downward and the hot, liquid led fills the bullet mold.

Like so.

And so.

Next, he takes a hammer handle (or do I say he uses the handle of a hammer?) and bangs the mold to remove the excess hardened liquid from around the bullet already formed inside the mold.  

Then he firmly shakes it off.  "Shake it off, man!"  He really needs me around.

Then, he opens the mold and beautifully formed lead bullets fall out onto a wet cloth.  And the angels sing...."La!"

Aren't they purdy?  I wonder if he can make me some genuine, bonafied bullet jewelry?  Betcha I could market somethin' like that to Cal Ranch.  Better sleep on that one.  

Gotta go, water pill's doing it's job.  

Friday, February 1, 2013

Vertigo & Jesse

I started a boot camp exercise class two months ago.

I got a good deal: Class three days a week, a superb personal trainer and a meal plan.

Three weeks in, vertigo rested upon me and stayed put.

At work, I'm dizzy just sitting at my desk.

I fell to my knees last Saturday, just filling up a coffee can with grain.  When I looked up, the world was spinning.  All I could focus on was Harriet the duck starring at me.  There were two or three of her for a few minutes.  

At boot camp class,  I can't exercise without having to lay down and put my legs up against the wall every ten minutes.  It's such a confidence builder.

I went to the doctor yesterday.

All tubes in my ears have too much fluid in them and I have a crystal imbalance.

Which means no driving and no exercise until I'm better.

Which also means I must take a water pill and an anti-inflammatory pill.

Which means, here's to pee-ing and fatigue!  La-Chaim!

Additionally, I'm to avoid any activities that trigger "spells".

Somehow, I must break it to Jesse I can't be her audience anymore as she runs at mach speeds, back and forth, running the steer up and down along the fence, lest I fall over.

She's a whole different can of worms.  I better sleep on this one.