My New Friend, Carol

Carol left me a comment on my last post so I decided to check out her blog. Carol, you put me to shame! She has several wonderful blogs - 1) Curly Willows Ranch where you're likely to find anything from great craft ideas to political views (it's always nice to hear from someone who agrees with me); 2) Altered Shots which has some great photography and graphics, all free to use; 3) In The Kitchen which has great recipes, kitchen tips and trivia; 4) Strange, Unusual, and Interesting - the name says it all! Now how does one woman find time to keep up with that many blogs? Carol, you're amazing, not to mention politically savvy, and smart - she knew that my horse is a Gypsy Cob, also known as Gypsy Vanner. Nice to meet you Carol.

 Please leave a comment below. I love hearing from you.

News in the World of Science

Heaviest Element Yet Known to Science Discovered

Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory in California has now identified with certainty the heaviest element known to science. The new element, Pelosium (PL), has one neutron, 25 assistant neutrons, 88 deputy neutrons, and 198 assistant deputy neutrons, giving it an atomic mass of 312. These 312 particles are held together by forces called morons, which are surrounded by vast quantities of lepton-like particles called peons.

Pelosium is inert, and has no charge and no magnetism. Nevertheless, it can be detected because it impedes every reaction with which it comes into contact. A tiny amount of Pelosium can cause a reaction that would normally take less than a second, to take from 4 days to 4 years to complete.

Pelosium has a normal half-life of 2 years. It does not decay, but instead undergoes a biennial reorganization in which a portion of the assistant neutrons and deputy neutrons exchange places. Pelosium mass will increase over time, since each reorganization will promote many morons to become isodopes. This characteristic of moron promotion leads some scientists to believe that Pelosium is formed whenever morons reach a critical concentration. This hypothetical quantity is referred to as critical morass.

When catalyzed with money, Pelosium becomes Senatorium, an element that radiates just as much energy as Pelosium since it has half as many peons but twice as many morons.

Please leave a comment below. I love hearing from you.

Hey, How About Some Hay?

Some things on the farm just make you stop, smile, and wonder why the rest of the world can’t be this simple.

This morning I walked out to the barn, expecting the usual chorus of hungry complaints, and instead found an unexpected little slice of peace on earth: Talon, my grand, feather-footed Gypsy Cob, was calmly sharing the hay feeder with Casanova—the resident ladies’ man of the goat pen.

Now if you’ve ever met Casanova, you know he’s not exactly the ask permission first type. He usually just hops in, takes what he wants, and figures he can charm his way out of any trouble. And Talon? Well, he’s not the hot-headed sort, but let’s just say he likes his personal space—and he has hooves the size of dinner plates to defend it.

But today? No drama. No fuss. Just hay munching in perfect harmony. I swear I caught them mid-conversation, too:

Casanova (with a mouthful of hay):
“Say Talon, you ever think about the deep stuff? Like why humans complicate everything?”

Talon (calmly chewing):
“Buddy, I get breakfast, I get dinner, I have a roof and a fan. What’s to complain about?”

Casanova:
“Exactly. They’re always in a tizzy about fences and politics and whatnot. We’ve got boundaries too, but you don’t see me yelling about zoning regulations.”

Talon:
“You literally jumped the fence last week, Cas.”

Casanova (shrugging):
“Dude, I was chasing love, not legislation.”

It made me wonder: wouldn’t the world be a whole lot better if people were more like animals? (Well, some animals. Let’s not model our diplomacy after roosters in puberty.)

They don’t care if you’re tall or short, hoofed or horned, shiny or shaggy. They just want a fair shot at the hay, a dry place to nap, and maybe a friend to chew beside.

So next time life gets complicated, do what Talon and Casanova did—belly up to the feeder, keep your opinions light, and remember there’s room for more than one kind of critter at the table.

Because if a Gypsy Cob and a love-struck goat can figure it out, the rest of us don’t have much of an excuse.

When a 1,200-pound horse and a rascally goat can agree on breakfast, maybe there’s hope for the rest of us.

Please leave a comment below. I love hearing from you.

Building Stairs

I consider myself a decent carpenter. I can hold my own with a saw, I know which end of a tape measure to use, and I’ve only glued my fingers together once. But up until now, I’d never built a set of stairs. And honestly, how hard could it be? It’s just a bunch of boards going up at an angle, right?

Wrong. So very wrong.

Naturally, I started where all great DIY disasters begin—Google. I read articles, scrolled forums, and stared at diagrams until my eyes crossed and my herb tea went cold. Nothing made sense. It was like reading IKEA instructions written by a medieval mathematician.

So I turned to YouTube, the place where regular people explain things in plain English, often while holding a coffee cup and being barked at by their dogs. That’s where I found a video from Lowes, and let me tell you—if a picture’s worth a thousand words, that video was worth a thousand brain cells I didn’t even know I had. Suddenly, it all started making sense!

Armed with this newfound wisdom and a healthy dose of overconfidence, I cut the stringers. Carefully. Slowly. Nervously. But hey, they looked right, and two of them are officially up and holding! Tomorrow, I’ll put up the third one and maybe even slap on a few treads—if the good Lord’s willing and the drill battery holds out.

Now, before you ask, no, there is not a second floor in the barn yet. There’s just a big ol’ beam the stairs are currently attached to. So yes, right now we’ve got stairs to nowhere. Which honestly feels fitting, since our house still has the infamous “door to nowhere” upstairs—just waiting on that balcony we swore we’d build in 2009.

It’s nice to know the barn and the house are keeping things consistent. One has a door to nowhere. The other has stairs to it.

Maybe someday we’ll connect all these architectural ambitions and make a real second floor. Until then, at least I know how to build the stairs... even if I don’t know where they’re going.

 Please leave a comment below. I love hearing from you.