Violence is wrong. Violence is wrong.

That said, I wanted to kick the teeth out of an old lady today. My husband and I pulled into the Post Office and there was a car parked there with a bumper sticker on it. It had the word "Marriage," then an equal sign, then a stick figure of a man, a plus sign, and the stick figure of a woman.

I'm still feeling somewhat speechless. My poor husband had to endure me screaming at the top of my lungs, then getting out of the truck and yelling, "Being old does not entitle you to being predjudiced!" slamming the door, and practically throwing myself into the p.o.

I just want to say to her, "Ma'am, its none of your business. Trust me, there are no homosexuals lining up right now to propose to you. You're old, dry and ugly. Keep your nasty, Christian extremist morals to your damn self."

My Birthday Wish

My 30th birthday is this year, and it falls on Election Day. So, I thought I'd make my birthday wish in advance this year: please, God/Allah/Budda/Vishnu/Gaia/whoever, please give us a new president. Please. That's all I want. No cake, no party, no presents. Just someone new in the White House. Thank you.

I want to make a t-shirt to wear that day: Its my Birthday--Vote Democrat.

I *Heart* Wesley

I'm a Wesley Clark girl. I like his policies a lot, and am confident in his ability to wax the floor with G.W. But he's not doing so well in the primaries, is he? Sure, he's not the greatest public speaker and he's not exactly the most "media-genic" guy, at least from the standpoint of avoiding all their little traps. But I believe in him and I so much want him for my President.

Here's why:
He supports gay marriages. To him, a family is a family, regardless of the genders of the people heading it up.

He supports stem cell research. He would allow people to donate unused embryos, but would eliminate any way for people to sell them. My older brother is a paraplegic, and I believe that sufficient stem cell research and subsequent treatment would allow him to walk again.

He supports universal daycare, giving every child a chance on a levelled playing field.

He wants our troops out of Iraq and would use diplomacy, rather than threats to get "our" point across.

He would reduce taxes for low-income familes, and would close tax loopholes for corporations who move their workforce out of country.

That's just a few of the reasons that I like him so well. I wish more people did.

Its Been a Magical Day

Dee over at Liminal Musings (see the links section, whilst I figure out how to link to text) made me a button! My very own button! The best part of all is that the illustration is from one of my favorite books, "The Girls Guide to Hunting and Fishing," by Melissa Bank. Listen to this excerpt wherein the main character is giving a toast at her best friend's wedding: "Finally, Sophie met Max," I say, and turn serious. I look over at him. I think, He has a nice face. And I say this into the microphone. "He gets how funny and generous and wholehearted she is. He understands what a big person she is, and yet he doesn't want to crush her." I get some blank stares here, but Sophie's laughing. I say, "Max is the man Sophie didn't know if she could hope for."

If you're a single woman and you aren't just bawling after reading that...

Anyway, huge thanks and kudos to Dee!

The Best Mail Day EVER

Today was Christmas for me, but the kind of Christmas where you have to buy all your own presents. I've bought a few items on E-bay recently, and they all arrived in the mail at once. I think I'll sit on the couch in my new Gramicci pants, sniffing my new lavender perfume on my arm, and trying to decide if I should watch Xena Season 1 episodes, or Coupling Season 1. Ah, the life.

We Found a Baby!

Some of you know that my husband and I have been trying to adopt for a while. We're in the process of signing up with the State to become foster & adoptive parents. Well, good news! I think we've found a child to adopt! (I'm so excited.) Its sort of a different situation--this kid was adopted by parents who weren't exactly the most upright citizens, but I guess that's not unusual for adoptions. In fact, the baby was adopted by this couple. Now one of the adopted parents is in jail and the other parent is on the run, leaving behind this poor little orphan who's been through so much already. I could just cry.

Anyway, we found out about him online and are working on the paperwork right now. I just wanted to share the good news, and let you know that you can see a picture of him here: http://www.weeklyworldnews.com/suspects/suspects.cfm?instanceid=59610.

I'm Button Nuts

I'm adding buttons right and left. I like these buttons a lot. However, I'm pretty dumb about how this code bidness works, so please--bear with me if I f*ck up your button. I've got a good heart. Really.

Sigh...I wish I had a button of my very own.

The Evil Empire

I live in a very rural area next to a huge reservoir. We're surrounded by mountains, and its quite pretty. Unfortunately, there are those who are willing to exploit the natural beauty of the area. These folks are starting the first destination ski resort development to be built in the United States since sometime in the 1970's. I could puke.

I have to admit, I am the daughter of a real estate developer. My dad and his partners bought a 1200-acre ranch 2 years before I was born, and at first we raised cattle and peas and such until the property values in the area skyrocketed. And then we sold the land. Now when I go back to my home-town it looks nothing like the picture in my memory. Its a miserable feeling, but it put bread on the table.

This resort, though...its different. Quarter-acre lots are selling for $350k, which is rougly 4 times what my husband and I paid for our house and 1.6 acres. They're putting in not just one, but two "world class" golf courses, which are going right over the top of beautiful meadows. Every spring the meadows would fill with so many different kinds of wildflowers, and along with the flowers would come nesting sandhill cranes, raptors raising their young, porcupines ambling along, and people like us who just liked to be there and look around. Next spring, it will be 18 holes of mono-culture--the native grasses were plowed under last fall. I suspect the developers will receive complaints from golfers who do not want to share the links with the Canada geese and their goslings.

Property values will skyrocket in the county, driving out many people who have lived here their whole lives, but who will not be able to afford paying their property taxes. Optimists say the development will bring jobs, but the jobs will predominantly consist of low-paying service positions: wait staff, housekeeping, landscapers. The Average Joe won't be making much above minimum wage while he's trimming the grass of the house that cost more money than he'll earn in his entire life.

There are children living in this town who literally don't have any shoes that fit them. There are single mothers trying to support themselves and their babies without going on public support. And soon there will be multi-million dollar vacation homes that are visited by people who don't think there's anything better to do with their money than build these ridiculous places.

I once heard it said that a truly good person never becomes rich because they're giving away their excess to help people who have much less. Too bad none of those people had enough power to stop this development.

Buh-bye, Christmas Butt!

I've got to admit, I was a total swine over the holidays. Pecan pie, prime rib (twice), pounds upon pounds of mashed potatoes--anything was fair game. And when my favorite Expand-O-Pants (Eddie Bauer with hidden elastic waist--woo hoo) were starting to pinch, I knew I had to make a radical life change.

We started snowshoeing and are doing that about three times a week now, plus I'm doing an exercise video with some women from the local courthouse another three times a week. My jeans fit again, and I swear to God my butt is about an inch higher than it has been for several years. Yay for me!

I don't feel guilty about the 10 cream puffs I had for dessert tonight. Much.

Welcome to the O.C.*

*Obsessive-Compulsive, that is.

Did you ever start something, knowing in the back of your mind that maybe you were getting into something bigger than you'd ever dreamed of? Yeah, that would have been me this evening. It all started when I heard "Become You," by the Indigo Girls, and I thought to myself, "Hey, I have that on CD. I should find it." I walked over to one of the (quick mental count) four racks of CD's inside the house and tracked down the jacket. No CD inside. And so I thought to myself, "Well, I can look through a few of these and see if the CD was tucked inside another jacket." Four hundred CD's later, I had a pile of CD jackets with no CDs, CDs with no jackets, and in one strange case, a Supertramp Greatest Hits jacket with both a Neil Young and a Del Amitri CD inside. After putting it all back together, I still have a couple of jackets with no CDs. Funeral services to be announced later.

What is the Matter With You People?

So in addition to being new to blogging, I am also new to the E-Bay phenomenon. (No, I haven't been living in a cave. I'm just a little slow to catch on sometimes.) There's something about some of the E-Bay users that leads me to believe that there is an extra-high percentage of idiots using it. For example, if you're bidding on an item that sells retail for $45.00, why the hell would you get on E-Bay and bid $60.00 for a used one? Is it the spirit of the chase? If so, you're likely to be reincarnated as a dog who will later be killed chasing parked cars. Wake up and smell the secondhand clothing, folks.

Tired. So very, very tired.

We've been outside for the last several hours, splitting wood with a borrowed hydraulic splitter. This is a task much more easily undertaken when there isn't four feet of snow on the ground, because then you don't actually have to tunnel down to your firewood stack, throw it up out of the snow, and then cart it through deep snow to the wood splitter. I'm pooped. The bad news is that there's still quite a bit more wood to split. The good news is that we definitely have enough wood to heat the house for the rest of this godforsaken winter.

Freezing My Knickers Off

We're in the middle of the snowstorm from hell. My husband and I drove up to McCall (the nearest burg with a decent grocery store) and got caught in this nasty-ass white out. We had to stop every 10 miles on the way home so that my considerate spouse could knock the ice off the windshield wipers.

Said spouse has snow-blowed the driveway once already today and is worried he's going to have to do it again in the morning. He's guessing we've had about 7 inches of new snow since yesterday afternoon, which brings the total in the yard up to about 4 feet.

In reading this over, I make it sound like all I do is stay inside the house and watch Xena episodes. Oh, wait...

Snow for sale--you pay shipping. (Insurance recommended.)

Turkey Rodeo

I thought I'd get started by telling (okay, retelling for pretty much everyone who's going to read this) the story of one of the most absurd things I've ever been involved with: the Turkey Rodeo.

In my wee small town, there once lived a guy who raised turkeys. These aren't the fluffy, white turkeys that Al Roker features on the Today Show the week before Thanksgiving. These are semi-wild beasties, taken from wild stock and raised domestically. The guy who raised them couldn't weed out their wilder tendencies, and the turkeys escaped from pretty much any enclosure they were ever put into. And then the guy moved away, leaving his turkeys to roam free much like Elsa the lion, but with wings and beaks.

One day my husband got a call that the turkeys were intimidating small children in the town. Having tried to catch the turkeys before, we knew a real plan was in order. We decided that he'd get his salmon fishing net--which is a huge net on a pole, and I'd help him by trying to herd turkeys toward where he was hiding. Then he'd swoop the net down and voila, we'd catch the turkeys.

We arrived at the "scene of the crime," and observed the "perps" wandering around behind somebody's RV. As we were strategizing, several young boys wandered over, having recognized my husband from a recent hunter's education class he'd taught. They volunteered to help, so the boys and I spread out. My husband hid himself behind a tree with the net. The boys and I walked toward the turkeys and started herding them. As soon as the husband made a swipe at the first bird, all hell broke loose. Turkeys scattered everywhere, and the race was on.

The boys and I chased those turkeys over hill and dale, trying to get them back around to my husband. We showed no regard for private property rights--we ran through yards, leapt over doghouses, clothes-lined ourselves on tree branches and generally spread mayhem throughout the neighborhood. Finally we pinned a turkey up against the side of someone's house. Alerted to our presence by a giant turkey throwing itself at his plate glass window, the homeowner came out to investigate. At the same time, my husband swooped from around the corner and caught the turkey in his net. It took a little bit of explaining to settle the homeowner down, and my husband (with turkey in net), the kids and I all started walking back to the truck to secure our captive inside one of our dogs' travel crates. Needless to say, we'd left the dogs at home.

As we arrived at the truck, a city police cruiser pulled up alongside. The officer, who we knew fairly well, took a good look at our motley crew and the captive and said, "Oh, its you. We just got a call that some lady and her four kids were chasing turkeys through people's back yards." I put my arms around the boys and said, "Yes, officer. Its something of a family activity. We get a lot out of it, and I think the turkeys do too."

I'm Not Sure I'm Ready for This

All right folks, here I go. Dipping a toe into the blog waters. Thanks (or blame) goes to Erica, Dee, and Mel.

To introduce myself, I'm Casey and I live in rural Idaho. I'm married to a game warden and we have two springer spaniels, Cody and Grover. We have no children, although we're working on an application to become foster and adoptive parents. I'm sure I'll have more to say about that in the days and weeks to come.

I'm not sure how much to say about where I work or what I do for a living. Despite the fact that speech is free here in America, I suspect my employer might have some sensitivities and I need to investigate it further before I discuss. I'm making it sound like I'm a CIA operative, aren't I? But gee, doesn't it give you something to look forward to, finding out exactly what it is that I do? Wow, hold on to your pants. That will be some kind of revelation.

Anyhoo, please bear with me while I learn the process of blogging. I promise to be more interesting after I get used to it.