OK, OK, I have learned my lesson.

The proverbs and of course your mother says " Pride goes before a fall". I am extremely sorry that I  was so vain that I bragged in my last post. I have since seen the light, and will here after remain modest and quiet.

I do live in a great place with unlimited possibilities for fun. I was very lucky to retire when I did, sell my house at the peak of the housing market, buy an exceptional house in a depressed area that just happens to be loaded with the kind of things that I like to do. Some times my happiness just flows over and I forget how my glowing reports of how good life is treating me, can be rather depressing for those of you who are still working or looking for work, stuck in places that are not fit for man nor beast. Fate has stepped in and shown me the error of my ways.

Curly, the Britney has pulled a muscle in his shoulder and so far we haven't found any respite for him. We are on our second set of medications in the hope that we can give him some relief. That is just normal life.

I ordered some antennas for the birds telemetry and a new wire to put on one of the transmitters so that I could attach it to Peg's tail. There is a little socket that clips on a center tail feather and the transmitter clips into that. Since they can be activated via a magnetic switch. It is the perfect solution. Hanging them on the birds feet is like putting weights on a boxers hands. Karen and I did that, and then I attempted to pick up Sue to change her batteries. I have mentioned before that she is territorial with her night perch, but today she footed me when I picked her up and she spent the rest of the time that I was holding her screaming and trying to grab me. I carried her around for an hour or so with no improvement, finally putting her in the giant hood in the back of the truck. When I went out to put the birds up for the night I found that Peg had pulled the offending feather out of her butt.

Now how sweet is that? I decided that I would clip another one to the other center tail feather, but not put the transmitter on until she gets used to the weight of the thing. I do hope that works.

I got up this morning after worrying all night long about how Sue was going to act this morning. What worries me is that habits like this generally get worse rather than better. However the sun always comes up and sometimes it is really lovely.

 Of course they say that  "Red sky in the morning, Sailors take warning". Not being a sailor, I have never paid much attention, just admiration. Of course when I went to do my chores this morning I discovered that I apparently have a Weasel killing my Chickens. One dead yesterday, two more this morning.

First up this morning was Jessie as is usual. I was feeling a bit apprehensive, but she behaved well, taking a nice pitch after checking the area. We flushed and some Mallards flew out of the shallow end of the pond. Jessie came fogging down after a hen, but it threw up a wing to take the blow. It still knocked her into the ground, but she quickly recovered and made the pond again before Jessie could get back around to her. Jessie recovered her pitch, and we ran the pond again hoping that we could find some that had been hiding in the tules. I did flush the Mallard who flew the same course and a Gadwall that went the other way. The Mallard dumped and Jess tried to catch up to the Gadwall, but she had too much of a head start. Jessie landed on the ground in a cut alfalfa field between the two ponds. I have not ever flown the lower pond, as there are wires and fences around it, but I was willing if Jessie wanted to. She is pretty savvy about that sort of stuff. We walked closer to the pond, giving her a chance to rest. She seemed quite content to sit on the ground and watch the day go by. I finally decided the best way to get her to fly was to offer her the fist with food. She knows that I am serious when I do that. While we were sitting there, we watched another Mallard fly into the top pond. She took a pitch over the top pond, so we made our best time up there and rushed the pond from both sides, pushing the Mallard out the end. Jess whacked it down into the willows at the top of the pond and whipped in to grab it. I got there as fast as I could and found her wrestling with the hen. It saw me and started wing whipping her and she let go to let me subdue the critter. I missed and it got into the water with me right after it. I grabbed, it dived and eluded me underwater. An interesting fact that most people do not think of until too late is that water proof boots not only repel water, but they also hold water as well. I called Jess to the lure and she seemed to hold no grudge. Not necessary, I knew who was the dunce.

When we took the Harris Hawks out, I was pleased to find that Peg hadn't ripped out the other feather while she was in the box. Sue screamed a rather subdued defiance for a bit, but soon quit, and got down to hunting. They chased several rabbits, and the new method of escape for the Jacks is to hide in holes like little "girly" rabbits. They finally ganged up on this one after Sue slammed into him on one side of the Sage with Peg taking the front.

We started back to the truck after this one was in the bag. Another Jack when pressed, ran into a hole. We rooted him out, and he couldn't make it to another one.

When we got home I left Sue in the box, intending to take her out a bit before dark and carry her until time to put her up for the night. I am at the end of my ideas on how to handle this insurrection.

So feeling a bit down I decided to roll out the plane and see if a little air time would help my feelings of being a dork. Karen was in Burns getting some new medication for Curly, and she told me that the wind was howling there. I knew that my time was limited. Well once in the air, I became aware that the front was well on its way, so I returned to the house and landed without incident.

Next chore was Ezra. He is a Tennessee Walker that we have had as a colt, but for one reason or another have not really done that much with. We had another horse that was a pain in the butt, that we just sold. I determined that I would start riding Ezra, if nothing else to keep him occupied. I saddled him up and I decided to ride down the runway, as he had been nowhere but the corral for a long time. I am working on his reining, and he is doing well, but he is still jumpy. We did quite well until we got to the end of the runway. Something spooked him and he whipped around so fast that the next thing I knew was that I was looking at him from somewhere other than from the saddle. I held on to the reins long enough get stretched out and landed on the flat part of my butt. Ezra headed out for home, leaving me a half mile walk to contemplate my sins. It could have been worse, sore rear end, either a sprained or bruised rib. He was calmly eating grass at the house, and came to me with no problem.  I "got back on my horse" and finished the reining lesson.

Oh, did I mention that the pump went out on the hot tub? It still heats, but no massage. Sigh!

All of it nothing more than coincidence I am sure, I think?