Ooh snap!

I'm going to name my dog Snap someday, just so when I call it I can say: Oooooh Snap! and people at the park will look my way and I can just smile and nod. Oh yeah, that's right. You wish you'd thought of that first, don'tcha?

Sadly that day looks a ways off, so let's talk about a different kind of snap: Photos. Namely, the lack thereof on this here falootin' blog. I'm here to make up for lost time. Expect to read rambles. Don't expect anything profound.

You have all been waiting so patiently to see my new violin, Dido. Since June 30th, in fact. *cough* My name is Gwyn Wildchild, and I am a procrastinator.  Well, here she is anyway, in all her mellow glory!
 I've really enjoyed having such a beautiful instrument to play and to have as my very own. Not a hand-me-down, not a used, brand new {handmade last year in Romania} and all mine. Mine. I'm not at all possessive, promise.

{German chocolate-mousse-filled-candy-bar.}

Do you like chocolate? How about mousse? Well, then you just might like this little slice of heaven that came direct from the makers of the best chocolate in the world. Yup, them Germans.
  One of my friends spent the summer over there as sort of an exchange student. She came back a few weeks ago and gave me this and an awesome vintage-looking scarf. Then we looked at pictures of her adventures over there: castles, forest horses, jailer's museum {the mask of shame; you have to look it up} and all that wondrous stuff. The only way I can one up her is if I go exchange for Ireland.... If I don't write in the next month or so, you'll have an idea where I've gone.

On an unrelated topic to violins and gourmet chocolates, a few of my little chickens have just begun to lay. Little Brother found two little pullet eggs a day or so ago. They weren't in the nest boxes; the feather brained critters aren't quite getting the concept, despite the golfballs to give them the right idea. But! They're laying!

Roanie and I have been making progress over the summer, especially where leg signals and gate opening are concerned. We have had a few set backs, though. Like nearly squishing me into mush against the hitching post. Let me clarify: I was trying to get her to move over so I could put the saddle on her, she freaked out for some reason, pulling back and trying to break free. I had to scramble to get out of the way before she pounded me with her feet, unfortunately, the only way out was under Shyanne's neck {who I also had tied} thus freaking her out. I'm probably the only person to have single handedly caused two full grown horses to pull back on a hitching post simultaneously. Although, I personally blame Roanie for being a dork. I mean, how many times have I asked her to move over to put the saddle on?
 Well, anyway, because of that little incident {which ruined my awesome black halter's leadrope :(} Roanie now refuses to be tied. If she is, she pulls back. My sister has been having the same difficulty {x10} with her troubled horse, Corona, which is why in the photo Roanie is tied to an inner tube roped and stapled to a post. Sister and I made a pull-back post. Well, actually remade would be more accurate. The last one.... Let's just say the inner tube was old and cracked, and when Spook {aptly named also recovering abused horse of my sister's several years ago} pulled back it broke and smacked him right between the eyes. He stood there for two seconds with a look of shock before he took off like a rocket. It took Sister close to an hour to finely catch him again. We had to settle for him being ground tied.
 Anyway. Needless to say, we got a brand new inner tube this go round.

It's canning season! Peaches and chokecherries at our house. Mum's made peach jam and jelly that is to die for, and chokecherry jelly and syrup. I just peel and slice. And taste. Okay, snarf.
 I don't know if you've noticed, but I've changed up my writing style in the last month or two. I've decided to become more honest. Because, quite frankly, serious posts are not my thing. Posts are a lot more fun to write now that I'm sounding more like me and less like a wannabe intellectual.

{wildflower}

Today I was sent to do the weekly shopping for the fam on my own. LB has come down with something nasty so I offered to do the groceries and such after my violin lesson and let Mum stay with LB. I must say I got plenty of stares while cruising down the aisles at Walmart with my cart filled with everything from 50lbs of dog food to men's razors. But Walmart is already filled with strange people, so I guess I fit in. One lady even asked me where they kept the sauerkraut. I wanted to ask her if I looked like the kind of person that would know.

 {grass.... i hate that distracting grey -- thing!}

The weather here is bipolar. I'm convinced of it. Yesterday we had wind that tore some shingles off the house, rain, and it was miserably cold. Today it was sunny and a balmy 73*. The thing is, it's been like this all week. I predict that I'll need a parka tomorrow.

The leaves are steadily changing. I don't have the camera this week, so I hope they don't die and fall off before I can get some decent photos. Meanwhile, I will strive to enjoy them solely with mine eyeballs. *stares intently*

{trees are really awesome.}

Oh! I finished the Hunger Games series!...for those of you who care. I was sadly underwhelmed, despite appearance of the enthusiastic beginning of this paragraph. I loved the first book, but the next two... bleck. I'm sorry to those of you who love all of them, but I for one was disappointed with a) the story line b) the characters and c) the lack of a moral.

{i'm not sure why like this photo. i mean it's slightly out of focus, hammie is photo-bombing in the corner, and there's no real subject. it must be the lighting.}

Once again we have come to the end. I hope you enjoyed that barrage of pictures and the rather quilt-like patchwork of words that accompanied them. Tomorrow I might type out a song I wrote for TLOS and maybe you could tell me if it's rubbish or not. I'm really not one for poetry and prose.
  Meanwhile, drink tea and read good books.

Dia,

Gwyn