Geocaching

 As some of you know, I have fallen in love with the sport of geocaching.

It's kind of funny if you think about it .... as geographically challenged as I am I love it.

Really geocaching is nothing more than using million dollar satellite systems to find tupperware in the woods.

Two weeks ago I went to Denver to the reading conference.

I convinced my room mates to go out with me at 10:30 

the first night because a big blizzard was predicted for the next day.

We cached until after midnight and then decided that 

we should probably get some sleep so we didn't fall asleep

 during our conference sessions.

We found one cache and searched high and low for another to no avail.

I convinced one room mate to join me to look again.

We braved the weather, but we came up empty-handed.

We got back to our motel and I re-read the clues.

I was just sure after reading the clues, that the

cache was in a fake flower.

I tried to convince the others to go look with me again,

but I didn't have any takers.  So I went alone.

The snow was blowing sideways at about 40 m.p.h.

and the visibility was nil.  Fortunately, the cache was only about

three blocks from the motel.

Once again I came up empty-handed. 

 By this time I was frustrated,

so I e-mailed the cache owner. 

The next day he e-mailed me and we had the 

right location, but the cache had been muggled.

(That simply means that a non-cacher found it and took it.)

At any rate, I have enjoyed puzzle caches and theme caches,

so I combined the two and came up with this puzzle.

Presidential Puzzle

This link will take you to a puzzle.  Solve the puzzle

and you will have the co- ordinates to the cache.

The cache is a large animal cracker jar that has been camo'd.

If you haven't cached before, call me and

 I'll help you become addicted too!

Who remembers this old commercial?

This was one of my favorite commercials as a kid.

Now I want to know who pissed Mother Nature off again .... 

I'm ready for this ....

NOT this!
 

 Let's hope the forecasters are wrong!

This Explains It!

The word lunatic is derived from the word lunar.

 My students have been been out of sorts the last couple of days.

 

Now we know why!

My equine friends don't seem to mind it though!

A friend on Facebook posted that this is the 

Full Moon of the Wolf.

Named by Native American Tribes, 

this moon arrived when howls of hungry wolves could

be heard outside of villages.

Here, it should be known as the Moon of the Coyote.

They have been yipping and carrying on like crazy.

Last night they were right across the creek.

Fun Facts about the Full Moon

Coral mate during the full moon.

Migratory Birds appear to follow the patterns

of the moon for timing and finding their path of migration. 

 

Auto accidents rise 14%.

 

Women who have already had children are

likely to give birth on the day of the Full Moon.

I looked this last one up to see if there was any truth to it

in regards to my dear sisters.  It was within three days.

There have been countless studies about the effects of the full moon, 

but most have proven inconclusive or have shown that there is no effect.

Wanna bet?

Just ask anyone who works with groups of children, groups of animals, 

or groups of the chronically mentally ill!

Colonel Cluck

Yes, I said Colonel Cluck,

not Colonel Klink.

Last summer just before school started I began hearing roosters.

Trust me when I say my hearing roosters was nothing

like when my better half began hearing kittens.

(I hadn't been exposed to pain killers and anesthetics like she had been

but that's another story for another day.  It's a great story though!)

I had heard crowing roosters for about a week.

We live about a quarter of a mile from our closest neighbor

and we never hear their poultry.

So I set off on a walk to find my early morning alarm clock.

North of us I discovered a big white rooster and his hen,

so naturally I gave chase.

It pretty much sucks when a rooster can outrun you.

I was disgusted and hot so I went home.

I began to call the white one Colonel Crow
and the red one Madame Cluck.

I sat and pondered how to catch them.

I knew I would have to be wily, 

so I channeled one of my favorite cartoon characters. 

He always used bird seed,

so I decided to use grain.

Let's just say that didn't work

and since I was

fresh out of dynamite,

I wasn't sure what my next step would be.

About a week after my grain bribe,

one of my faithful companions squeezed under the fence

and went on a walk-about.

I discovered my escape artist had escaped 
and so I went to look for him.

I found him down the road a piece, crouched over the hen 
and just a 'chewing away.  I was mortified.

 I could see the hen was still breathing

but looked to be in bad shape and I suspected that I would have

to put the poor bird out of it's misery.

When I pulled Sammy off, the stupid bird took off running.

Now I figured even I could catch an injured bird, but 

that stupid hen led me on a merry chase.

However, I was ultimately successful

and I carried the bloody bird back to the farm.

I put it into a small dog crate

and allowed it to settle in.

It made all sorts of chicken noises and sounded much

like a hen.......

until bright and early one morning I heard the crowing of a rooster.

A weak, very hoarse crow, but a crow it was.

Seems like I'm not any better at sexing poultry than I am at sexing goats.

Turns out our hen was actually a rooster

and became Colonel Cluck at that time.

He's been very lonely so I've been watching

Craig's List for some hens.

I finally asked a co-worker if she could spare just two hens.

She could, and so I picked them up last Friday after school.

I took them to the pen and Colonel Cluck

began scratching and throwing dirt like crazy.

Let's just suffice to say that he's very, very happy.

Bi-Annual Visitor

I have written a lot about the beasties that share our lives,

but I tend to write more about the dogs.

Our most popular post of our blog since we began writing 

way back in 2008 was about our cat crew.

About once a week somebody does an internet search

and then clicks on 

Tryptophan Overdose.

This is Trey, one of Willowby's (now Mama Kitty) kittens

all stretched out after his indulgence.

He disappeared about a year ago 

and showed up in late July or early August.

We had decided that coyotes had gotten him,

but evidently he had found better digs elsewhere.

After a few days he disappeared again just as

quickly as he had appeared.

Two nights ago he popped through the pet door

as if he owned the place and had never been gone.

I have no idea who we are sharing ownership with,

but he seems content to let us know that he is still

alive and well.