Hot Ranger Search, Thank You Janet Evanovich

I have been reading Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum novels (hilarious!). I often wondered (and was a bit disturbed) by the fact that one of the common searches that landed people on my blog was Hot Ranger. But, after reading these books, I totally get it. So, in honor of all you HOT RANGER searchers out there, here is an old post that lands people on my blog with that search! Sorry if you are disappointed, but if it makes you feel any better, I am married to a mix of Ranger and Joe Morelli in the books. Yes, I love my life.

Unfortunately, a few months back one of the barns at our Park did not like the hay that they decided to put in its loft. Or, well, I guess the hay had a problem with being trapped inside an old, drafty barn. So, it took revenge and spontaneously combusted.


Um, where are the firetrucks? firemen?

Remember we are in a rural area so we depend on the Volunteer Fire Department. Our town's department consists primarily of Park staff.


Park Rangers are usually also First Responders (medical) and Fire certified. So, here Big Buckaroo (on the right) is trying to save some of the barn or at least contain the fire so that it would not spread to any of the historical homes, i.e. matchsticks waiting to be lit. Also, my friend Nikki's house is only a few hundred feet away and let me tell you she was not getting Smores ingredients out at this point.

Big Buckaroo finally decided that his Park brown uniform might not be the protection he needed and put on his fire gear. I think that was a good idea because, um, did you see this fire?

Yeah, looks a little hot.

Time to reload, thank goodness there were many Volunteer Fire Departments that responded to help. It is amazing how people pull together during these times. Politics, religion, race, education - none of that mattered, there was a goal and everyone was working to achieve that goal. Just think what kind of world we would have if everyone worked together like this on a daily basis.




Most of the tack was saved and even some old wagon wheels.


Smokin'!

The fire was put out and although the barn did not make it, the town was saved.

I told you it was going to be a very hot post today! Also, I am single-handedly trying to clean up the Internet. When anyone Google's Hot Ranger (and I know you people are out there) they will be brought to this clean, family-friendly site!

So, for all those Googlers out there: Hot Park Rangers, Hot Park Ranger, Hot Ranger, Love Park Rangers. Park Rangers are Hot, A Ranger's Life. I can't wait to see what kind of ads show up on my site--tsktsk.

Have a great weekend,
The Park Wife


Since this post which was a few years ago, the barn has been rebuilt and is beautiful!

The Chicken Whisperer

This is a post from a while back, I thought of it since I am going to pick up 25 baby chicks this afternoon. I just never learn.


We have chickens. Lot's of chickens. We ordered 10 chickens for Little Buckaroo's 4-H project this year. I was excited, fresh eggs for the family and the extras we could sell at the Farmer's Market.

Yea, best laid plans. The 4-H truck delivers the chickens throughout the state to the different 4-H clubs. We were the last stop. There were 100 left on the truck. Yea, we brought home 100 baby chicks.

Thankfully, there were area 4-H'ers that needed chickens so we ended up with 28 chickens.

Then Lucky decided that he liked chicken, so we were down to 24. Bad dog.


They get to go out on fresh grass in the afternoons so now I have to chain Lucky (appropriate name because he is lucky to be alive) up. Then, at dusk when they go in, I let him off the chain.

The chickens started laying eggs the week of the last Farmer's Market for the season. So, now I get about 22 eggs a day. Call me if you need eggs, cluck, cluck.

Oh yea, the chicken trauma. So, whenever Big Buckaroo goes out of town there is inevitably going to be a chicken trauma. A few weeks ago, I heard a bit of a ruckus at about 10:30 p.m. and went out with a flashlight. All looked well until I looked up here (see photo below).

There were 3 hens up there roosting because they did not make it back into the hen house before I closed the door. I know, I really should count the girls. I spent the next 30 minutes in my pajamas with a boat oar trying to coax them down and get them in the hen house for the night. I kept looking around to make sure I was not on candid camera. Ugh, life on a mini-farm.

So, last weekend while Big Buckaroo was out of town hunting, I went to get eggs and there were only five in there with all the rest broken. Yea, I forgot to get them the day before and someone benefited from my absentmindedness, glad someone benefits from it. Plus, there were some wing feathers on the ground, uh oh, not good.

The next day I made sure before dark that all the girls were inside and all the eggs were picked up. I heard a ruckus at about 11:20 p.m. Lucky was inside with me so he could guard the family during the night (if he could hear anything over his snoring). It was the rooster and a couple of hens making it sound like a Desperate Housewives cat fight.

I went outside, did not see anything. I started back in, turned around and looked up. In a tree by the chicken coop sat.....


a possum! (no, I did not take that picture, I was running the other way!)

What to do???? Where is Big Buckaroo???? I want my mommy! (not that she could help, she is afraid of chickens)

I went inside and got a pellet gun, I thought I would scare it out of the tree and maybe Lucky would run it off. Did not work. Neither did the rock I threw up at him.

At this point I am thinking how did I go from Memphis chic to chick defender?

I knew that if I did not take care of this situation I would have some dead chickens in the morning. So, I went inside to get the shotgun. Not a good idea because I am scared of it kicking back and bruising my shoulder. But, I was being bold, I had to defend Tara. Oh wait, I am not Scarlett.

I went back out with the gun, aimed, then stopped, talked to myself a while, aimed again. This went on for about 3 minutes. I finally got up the nerve, took off the safety and.....click. There was not a shell in it. I could not go through that again. So I walked back to put the gun up and thought about what Big Buckaroo would do.

Well, he would have put a shell in the shotgun, but anyway, I decided to get the small animal trap, put some dog food in it and hope for the best.

The next morning I went out and SUCCESS. I had trapped a possum, I am a real country girl now. Just call me Ellie Mae. Woohoo!

Next predicament ~ my husband was not home to relocate it, I was surely not picking that cage up, have it hiss at me and risk it rushing out and attacking me. What to do, what to do????

Thanks park maintenance for giving ugly, nasty possum a new home about 5 miles from us!

Going to make eggs Benedict,
The Chicken Whisperer


***Disclaimer: We are very good to our animals, all of them, from the rabbit to the dog to the goats to the chickens to the brand new Texas brown tarantula that I would rather not be good to, but I am. Just had to say that, there are some crazy folks out there who would want to cause a ruckus over me permanently eliminating (which I did not) a possum that was about to kill my chickens.

Blingity Bad

Uh oh, watch out, The Park Wife is on a bit of a tear. Yes, it happens, just ask my husband.

Really, I try hard not to judge, it is a bit of a struggle at times, especially when I am in a situation where PEOPLE WATCHING could be considered a sport. I was at a big festival recently and since I had my camera with me, I thought I would share something that my friend Jenn and I have been ranting about for a few weeks now.

Butt bling, with crosses no less. Now, I love me some Jesus, and I am in awe of His majesty, His grace and His power (among many other things). HOWEVER, I am not going to put some bedazzled crosses as an advertisement for people to look at on my bottom. Um, what exactly would that be advertising?

                                             

These were not the tightest ones I saw that day, I had to choose one that was not like a blinking arrow sign to post. You are welcome.

I don't think the Lord wants this type of advertising, actually I am pretty positive that He is just fine on His own.

I also hear they cost well over $100, yes ma'am, we are in a recession, people are losing their homes, food costs are skyrocketing, unemployment is up, but they have some bedazzled bottom jeans.

Mercy, you can tell I am in a bit of an uproar, but hold on to your bling jeans, when this little lady turned around, she had on this shirt.



Yes, this might send me over the edge. Are you kidding me? This is just wrong on so many levels. I don't think I can even go there.

A cross is not a fashion statement, it is a way of life.

The Park Wife