Pretty Little Pincushion

I made this little pincushion yesterday, using some of the selveges I have been collecting. I don't crochet well...but managed to put a little border around it. It's now on its way to a friend, where I'm sure it will find a good home :-)

Sometimes, Things Happen For A Reason...

What a headline - “Sometimes, Things Happen For A Reason” - doesn't that just make you think something PROFOUND is coming? Well, if that's what you think...stop right here...back away from the computer...and go someplace else. Because NOTHING profound is going to appear on your screen...

I am the wife/mom of males. And we live in a rural area – dead-end road, acreage. “Things” happen in the country. Things you might not want to actually know about, but they happen. I have been a party to butchering animals for meat, killing animals because it was “their time,” and finding animals that died – either a violent death or natural causes. It just comes with the rural territory.

On January 1, (yes...MORE than two months ago!) we found a young coyote dead across the driveway from The Shop (our fairly new 36'x60' shop, and that's a whole 'nother story!). No sign of foul play...just dead. Now, you'd think that normal people would “do” something when that happens. Like...bury it? Can't call the “Dead Coyote Police” because they don't come pick them up....but wouldn't you think SOMEone would do SOMEthing about a dead coyote? Nope! It's been there, getting wiggly and squishy since 1/1/09, despite my occasional admonishments to “do” something. “Don't WE think WE should 'do' something with The Dead Coyote?” Their selective hearing seems to filter things like that out, I guess.....fortunately it's been quite cold....but the other day, son Adam was racing his RC car. I stupidly asked him if he'd “jumped” the Dead Coyote with his car. Yes...I gave him the idea. Apparently, there is no “upper limit” to my stupidity. Do you know that “things” kinda “fly off” of two-month old Dead Coyotes when you “jump” over them with RC cars? Ick.....

That said....my guys love to go to auto/farm auctions. They have been “collecting” stuff from auctions for years. For whatever reason, long ago and far away, I “laid down the law” about bringing home a fire truck. Why a fire truck? And not a corn chopper? Or hearses...ice cream trucks...dump trucks....odd, assorted tractors (all things they HAVE brought home)? I don't know – I just “balked” at fire trucks. Of course, having said that, their goal became...acquiring a fire truck. Now...if you think you are going to read a story about them bringing home a fire truck....see paragraph One. This is my blog. I'll tell the story the way I want to, LOL! So far, this is the only one they've dragged home, but I know it's only a matter of time, especially since Adam now works for The Olympia Fire Department.Adam and Terry (hubby) went to an auto/farm auction a couple of weeks ago. I gave them the usual “no fire truck” speech as they went out the door. When they came home...I asked if they bought a fire truck. “Nope!” So far, so good! But...they had that look in their eye ....I asked “Sooooo, did you buy ANYthing?” “Yes.” “Ok...what did you buy?” “A Sign.” Hmmmm – a sign. What the heck does that mean? They went on to say they bought a Tavern Sign.

“Anything else?” “Uhhhhhhhhhh.....well, The Sign is big.” We have to play this game....I ask the question, and they answer just a teensy bit at a time. “So????” “Well, we took the Ford Festiva – it's tiny. So...we bought a truck... to haul The Sign home in.” Well, the truck turned out to be a Ford F350, with a stake bed, for $1200. Not a bad price, considering it made it all the way from the auction to our house, some 30-40 miles. Not that we really NEEDED this truck....but well that's not the point, I suppose.

I wandered outside to check it out, taking my camera. The Truck was parked up by The Shop. Here's The Shop. Yep, the Ford Festiva IS tiny! (Note all the "sticks" off to the right - that's a 'NOTHER whole 'nother story!)

And here's The Truck. And here's The Sign, in the back of The Truck.
Now, I stood there looking at The Sign in the back of The Truck...and at The Shop...and (try as I might NOT to...) The Dead Coyote – remember that from the beginning of this story? Well, it all came together in my head - “Sometimes Things Happen For A Reason.”

In my head, we shall put The Sign up on The Shop. And add “The Dead Coyote” before “Tavern.” “The Dead Coyote Tavern.” It has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? We shall acquire a tacky-looking used refrigerator and stock it with Budweiser Beer. See – this is what I've become over the years of living in a rural area...with all males!

Now, you may have noticed that I have NOT included a picture of The Dead Coyote here. Most of you will be glad of that. If any of you really WANT to see The Dead Coyote, let me know and I'll e-mail it to you, but it ain't a pretty sight. I've watched it “change” over the course of more than two months. I can truly say we have our own little Body Farm here. It's somewhat fascinating...but mostly just gross. Ok – I promise that my next post will be apron-oriented. No more dead animals :-)....til the next time....