The Canadian Contingency

July 30th, for a brief day, I was rewarded with visitors from Canada. Several times now, my cousin and her family have made this monumental detour during their return trip to Ontario from their vacation home in Florida. We made the most of our 12 hours together.

Fasten your seat belts.

9 AM, cousins arrive, we stick the youngest one down in the storm shelter mostly for my amusement.

 Then we head to the Uchee Rifle Range in Tuskegee National Forest.  Nothing like a few miles on those ill maintained dirt roads to make them start hearing banjo music in their heads.  
I'd been collecting an assortment of targets:  gourds from my compost pile, Perrier bottles, frying pans and, of course, regular paper targets.  I'm a creative Redneck.

After the jolt from the first shot, Mona, adjusts her stance and proceeds on to take care of business.  RCMP looking for new recruits?...

Rolly is brave enough to try the 300 Win. Mag that kicks like a mule.  Most folks give her back to me after the first shot.  He efficiently plucks off all the gourds his first time around.  The quiet ones always surprise you.

His daughter, Sarah, shows us the bear gun's ammo.

A fellow next to us had been firing at our frying pan and felt obliged to offer me a chance to shoot his AR-15.  Like I'd turn him down.

Fun, no recoil and an amazing scope, but not my cup of tea.  I'm too much of a traditionalist, I prefer something Daniel Boone would be proud to carry.  Besides, the AR-15 holds 10 rounds, if you can't hit a deer after 10 rounds, you deserve to become a vegetarian.

Fast forward to lunch.  The cousins go to downtown Auburn and I return to the farm to fight with the oxen who refuse to load into the trailer.  Dr P  helps tip the scale in my favor, but we're still 10 minutes late for our appointment at the vet school.  
One of my little cousins had a notion at one point of becoming a veterinarian and I thought a behind the scenes tour of Auburn University Vet School would be educational.  The feral Angus cows being treated before my oxen could turn anyone off the profession. Kicking, charging, snorting, bleeding, I hadn't planned on this X-rated version of large animal medicine.  
The plan was for Family Rated fun.  Like watching Tommy get a manicure.

Next stop:  Small Animal Clinic's Physiotherapy Lab, to watch a demonstration of the new equipment...starring my favorite rock star.

I load up my dog and oxen at 4:30 and rush back home to get ready for Tommy and Mack's birthday party.  With less than an hour before my cousins return and four other guests to arrive, I should calmly prepare myself to be a proper hostess... that would be so out of character.  Instead, my cousins return to find me in my Wellies spraying the manure out of the horse trailer.  Busted.
We walk to the barn to see the new kids.

Both cute as a button!
Sadly, we stumble upon a goatlet clinging to life by a thread.  I call Dr. P to tell him of his animal's plight and I leave my cousins with instructions to stand over it, protecting it from trampling, and I head back to finish washing my trailer.  Five minutes pass, I look out to see the sentinels still standing over the goat.  That's when it dawns on me that these metropolitan folks are not seasoned farmers and this may be sensory overload for them.  Oops. I shuffle back as quickly as my Wellies can take me.  
Dr. P shows up, I pick up the baby and we head to the shop to decide on a course of action.  Along the way, the goatlet dispenses the foulest diarrhea all down the side of my shirt, my shorts and into one boot.  
Two seconds later, the last of my dinner guests show up.  Welcome to my world.  I had forewarned them all that I would be casually dressed...the toxic sludge was an added bonus.
After a good decontaminating, the festivities resume.  Carter had made party hats for the oxen.

Happy Birthday to Tommy, the #2 love of my life (Cole is unopposed as #1).  
Mack doesn't give me a chance to finish tying his hat.

The hat slips off to one side and he puts in his best rendition of a rodeo bull in full flight.  As he is neither #3 nor 4 love of my life, I find hilarity in his reaction.

Supper goes off without any major calamity. Time's up, we have to say farewell for now to my family.