Little Known Facts about the Uncommon House Dobby

Little Known Facts About the uncommon House Dobby

First off all it is important to note that not all house Dobbys are created equal.  Case in point, my house Dobby suffers from a rain phobia.  He absolutely can not/will not go outside for any reason if it happens to be raining, or drizzling, or wet.   The poor thing is then forced to stay inside on the couch in front of video games under several layers of “fuzzy blanket” that only he is allowed to touch.  It’s a sad state I tell you, given the fact that my house is in some state of rain/wet/drizzle most of the time.  When my house Dobby does take it upon himself to suffer the dreaded, the awful, the rain to do something outside. ~ like fix the round pen…he makes quick work of it and enters the house shaking off his damp clothing much like a dog. 

credit: www.hdwallpaperspics.com 

Another little known fact about the uncommon house Dobby is that they like to EAT.  You would never guess this, as they remain extremely skinny at all times no matter what manner of fried foods, junk food, sweets or anything containing calories they stuff in their mouths.  My Dobby contends that it is genetic and that he has a high metabolism.  I wonder if that “high metabolism” is the same “genetic” marker that keeps him on the couch for days on end, or sleeping until 1:00 p.m. in the afternoon even when he goes to bed at 10:00 p.m. the night before.  Is it THAT high metabolism? When I find out the secret of the Dobby skinny-ness I will let all women know everywhere.  We will bottle it and sell it and be skinny rich girls togetherJ 

Meanwhile, this eating habit means that anything I do not want touched as snack food, must clearly marked…and pointed out physically or he will play the “I didn’t see the writing on the package” game.  I have lost several bags of chocolate chips this way.  We won’t even mention entire dinner plans that have been dashed due to the high eating drive of the Dobby.  An entire cooked ham can disappear in one afternoon when I run to the post office or local store.  Bags of walnuts clearly intended for baking needs ~ poof ~ no more walnuts.  Woe is it to me when I get a large package of chicken nuggets and expect them to be available for a quick lunch on a lazy Saturday afternoon when my 12-year old son is anxious to get back outside.  HA!  Even after several warnings the house Dobby cannot prevent himself from sneaking into said nuggets.  No amount of threatening will cease his great cravings for the soggy microwaved taste of the nugget.  We don’t buy those anymore.   Left overs from the rare restaurant meal are not safe either!  One afternoon after a particularly grueling day, I had been dreaming about the scrumptious taste of the Mexican food I had left in the fridge from the day before.  Oh, the yummy melted cheese, the spicey meat, the peppers, the sauce ~ I even had chips and guacamole!  Oh for JOY!  NOT ~ I found the Styrofoam container neatly in the trash and a quite satisfied Dobby on the couch.  I had peanut butter and jelly ~ sans the jelly as Dobby had polished that off during a morning toast fest.  When I pointed out the “NO touchy” labels on the container I was met with a smug  “It was there, I was hungry, I didn’t’ see it.” 

It is also important to note that Dobbys do NOT take well to any kind of criticism, either real or imagined.  They tend to have a bit of a short fuse on most things….maybe all things.  They can be quite grumpy and belligerent.  Much like a child having a tantrum if they feel threatened in any way.  Such as when gently reminded how to spell the word “Any”  a.n.y.  (not aney)   In order to suppress such child like pouting, we have employed the “inner Mike” technique.  This is where we call upon the gentle, ever patient, ever kind, ever forgiving spirit of our wonderful friend Michael to take over in the situation.  This usually works to restore what Dobby considers a smile to his face. 

I have put a ban upon on all temper tantrum having, pouting and grumpyness in my  household!  We will only be subjected to love and light!!  It is a rule that will be obeyed or the Dobby will get his sock and go.  Now, Dobby realizes this and generally keeps his pouting to a minimum. 

So, if you decide to get a house Dobby, like we have, please do a field test before bringing him home to ensure your  Dobby will fit in with your lifestyle and personality.  Dobby’s can be exceptionally handy to have around.  So long as you employ the proper techniques to manage your Dobby. 

Stay tuned for a post on what to look for in a good Dobby!

House on Windy Hill STILL Standing!

The House on Windy Hill is still standing!

Not too long ago, I was on the phone with my manager and I warned him that we might be disconnected as we had a tornado warning going on.  My manager kindly asked if it was a question of safety and should we continue later.  I assured him it was fine….

Not two minutes after I hung up with said kind manager I heard the wind take on a strange new howl and things hitting the window right near my office desk.  I leaped up from my chair and raced towards the basement scooping up annoyed cats as I went and calling the dogs.   The house Dobby rolled his eyes at me while munching on the last piece of bread in the house telling me “It’s fiiine.” With that southern drawl of his that is more pronounced when he is trying to be in command of a situation.  Command or not, by the time the cats were scooped and the dogs had stopped running in circles…everything went silent. 

I though to myself “This is the eye of the storm, we are about to get plowed.”

 Dobby, finishing his bread wonders directly in front of the biggest window in the house to say…”Hmmm, you should see the round pen.” 

Stupidly, still holding now struggling cats I go to the window to peer outside into the darkness to see that my round pen was no longer round…more of a squashed semi circle at best.  Great.  The panels were quite mangled as well.  Perfect. 

squashed round pen March 31 2013

It seems that the wind was really gone for good, despite my staying in the basement for what seemed like a long time with the cats and dogs.  Dobby stayed upstairs and rummaged through the kitchen for more snacks, hollering down at me every so often things like  “Those cats are going to get very dirty, and I am not helping you bathe them. The dogs are going to have footprints all over the house from that dirty floor down there.”  And “Where is the syrup?!”

Admitting defeat and climbing up the stairs with filthy cats in hand and dogs awkwardly following me trying to get back up the stairs, I was greeting by a smirking Dobby at the landing. 

“That big old dead tree lost a limb and that is what crushed the round pen.” He informs me.

“Looked more like the wind blew it to me.”  I argued.

“Nope, it was a really big limb, and I am going to have to drag it out of there, and it’s going to be a pain, I am going to have to hook a chain up to it and pull it out with the truck probably.”

I countered with “Well, I didn't see a big limb and leave my dead tree alone.”

Old Dead Tree near my "used to be round pen"

“Lets go outside and look” he suggests.  I gamely agreed to go outside in the now drizzling rain and check it out.

The horses were looking at us glumly from beside the barn; having steadfastly refused to go inside of it during the entire ruckus I’m sure.  After a complete checking over, we surmised that the horses were in fine shape albeit wet and somewhat moody. 

The “BIG LIMB” was about 3 inches around and maybe two feet long at best.  That was the extent of the “big limb.”  I refrained from making any jokes about how men over estimate the size of things like that and pulled the limb out of what used to be the middle of my round pen ~ no truck and chain needed ~ ! The wind in fact had effectively smooshed the round pen together. 

On the other side of the house we saw more siding had come off. Several things were blown off the porch and in disarray as well.   This would explain the great tearing sound I had heard in my semi-mad dash down the stairs to the basement.  The burn pit had been squashed in similar fashion to the round pen. 

More Siding had come off and many things blown off porch.

While Dobby listed of all that he would have to do to repair the round pen and burn pit and how much time it would take and how difficult it would be and how he would really like a sock now, I lamented the loss of more siding.  We also noted that much of it had blown merrily into the farmers field along with the large water trough that had been standing in the pasture. 

Farmers field with my water trough and siding

  The smaller water trough was nowhere to be seen.  We have now lost three small water troughs to the whims of Windy Hill Windy-ness.   Maybe heavy rocks at the bottom of the smaller trough to hold it down on such occasions?  Is there some neighboring farmer scratching his head saying to his wife “Mabel, I surely don’t understand why someone keeps dumping these perfectly good livestock troughs here in the yard.”  I’m pretty sure ‘Mabel’ will have a very inspiring “flowering tub garden” made out of them this spring. 

credit:  twomenandalittlefarm.blogspot.com

One day I am going to build a windmill and have all of my energy free on Windy Hill.  I have to admit, I feel very Blessed that the house is still standing, I still have my roof and all the animals and ourselves are quite fine.  It seems the wind chose to be strongest on both sides of the house, but not over the house itself.  Maybe that constant rain cloud is protecting us:)

 

Queens Elsa's First Litter

Due to many requests, I am going to make a sincere effort to keep up on my blog. 

The most popular request by far is to know what the cats are doing.  I am going to turn over the blog post here to Elsa, who can tell you all about it.

Greetings oh great followers of mine, it is I ~ the lovely, and demure Queen Elsa.

  Last we spoke I was pregnant with my first litter of kittens; therefore I shall start by telling you how that experience went.

November 2, 2012

Well, I was minding my own business, when…I started to feel a bit of pain in my abdomen, quite like when the human children pick me up by the belly and squeeze too hard.  Like any wise kitty I tried to hide from the pain.  I jumped up on the bed where humom was lounging around watching t.v.   I tried in vain to get comfortable, causing humom to giggle at me.  I rolled my eyes at her and climbed under the covers and hid by her feet.  It was dark, seemingly safe…then suddenly out of the blue ~ a real pain!  I cried out in alarm, run up the covers and leaped out at the top where humom looked at me quizzically and uttered some sort of soothing words to me…and my first kitten was born, right on humoms tummy.  In an instant, I knew, I knew what should be done.  This was the big day!  I was having my kittens.  Like the true Queen I am, I took great care of my very first kitten.  I did all the things that God has instilled in all great cats to do from day one.  Evidently humom was not crazy about thought of me having the rest of my kittens upon her tummy, so she gently extricated herself out from underneath my newly born kitten and I.  I growled at her in protest. Disturbing my new, precious baby like that!  The nerve! I did settle back down on the bed and fluffy comforter to have more kittens.  Humom looked on proudly as I gave birth to the rest of my litter. Amidst much purring on my part, I gave birth to 4 amazing kittens….all boys!  

I loved them all.  I was very protective of my new babies.  Humom again had the gall to move my precious litter and I.  I will never understand the humom mind; did she not understand that I had chosen the perfect spot to raise my little brood?  She coldly ignored my growling and occasional plaintive meows as she moved us all into our own room.  There we were in a tidy little box, with soft blankets to lie upon, fresh water, and some delicious smelling food nearby.  She completed this unwanted move by providing two clean litter boxes.  I was very grumpy with humom as I used the litter box and ate the warm meat she had put nearby what she had dubbed my “new den”.  Humom was kind enough not to touch my kittens as I kept a wary eye on her whilst I ate.  I didn’t finish all the food in my worry and haste to get back to my wonderful, sleeping babies. 

Humom ~ apparently deciding she had finally been nosey enough, and bothered me enough…left us alone, turning off the lights as she left.  Ahhh, at last, some peace.  The gentle natural light filtering in from the skylight above us lulled and soothed me; soon I was sleeping quietly with my babies cuddled up next to me in that warm little room.

You would THINK that humom would have had the presence of mind to take more photos in order for me to share appropriately with my devoted followers.  But alas, she did not, so this is all you get.  

Now, I must bid you ado as I have other things to attend here in my Catdom.  Look for more posts from me on the kittens growth and mischief coming soon!

Ever yours Queen Elsa

BlackStones Progress...

Blackstone has proven to be quite the astute pupil.  I am enjoying him very much.  We have progressed from not being able to "catch" him at all to him greeting me at the gate, to being able to brush him all over,  to picking up all four feet, leading, giving to pressure, lunging, backing up, coming forward, disengaging the hip,  and putting on the saddle pad, with a little bit of desensitizing thrown in for good measure.  We have a long way to go, but we sure are proud of him so far.

BlackStone Lunging

He has not been too pushy or too spooky to over come his fears, and he really loves to please.  He actively looks for rewards and responds to them with great relish.

As time goes on, we will be working on the more difficult stuff, so stay tuned!

Saddle pad with Saddle

Standing quietly with lead over withers while saddle is put on

BlackStone gets an A+ for standing while I put the saddle on for the first time!  I love the lead over the withers as a stand still quietly cue for the horses.  It makes life sooo much easier.  I did not cinch the saddle this day, as it was his first time ever having it on his back.  Cinching will come soon:)

Today, after this session, I took his halter off in the pasture....I don't like them with halters on in the pasture in the first place, however for the purpose of ease I have left it on him thus far.  Today, he is rewarded with having no halter and tomorrow, I (hopefully) shall be rewarded with him coming to me willingly and dropping his head to be haltered. ! 

Box to house, house to home!

dining room table! In the dining Room!!

Oh yeah, that's right! I have a dining room table! uh uh uh uh!  Love it!  Alright, so I had to do some very creative thinking to come up with a plan to get all the furniture in my house moved to the correct locations of the house as opposed to piled haphazardly into just two rooms.

After much thought, much prayer and some gentle coaxing from a friend.  I made a decision, I would ask (beg) for help.

Cue the semi-local Church group to loan me my own House Dobby and Cohort.  This was a pretty big step for me, as I do not like strangers in my house, much less strangers knowing where I live.

The living room

I seriously considered putting a blind fold on the Dobby's cohort.  I reconsidered, when I realized he might take exception to that.  I  had to settle for taking all back roads with many turns to get here....don't think I didn't notice him making mental notes of the land marks though.  On the other hand, I was kind enough to leave the Mastiff and the Great Dane/Lab Cross at Weedy Flats.  I suppose even Church going Cohorts want to keep their limbs.  Besides, he needed those for the work that lay ahead.   We only had two hours to get everything done, and honestly, I presumed that we would get the heavy stuff moved at best.


Well, I forgot that I was working with Super Dobby and Cohort!  They got everything put where it belonged, the bed assembled, the table assembled, the lazy boy chair assembled, put the boxes in the rooms where they were marked to go, arranged the furniture in the living room (after we found the living room furniture) and  had time for a cup of coffee to boot!

Dobby and Cohort

I was just flabbergasted!  I have never seen two men work so quickly and so efficiently.   I was just beside myself with joy!  I have a home!  A real home!  I can not thank these two enough for helping me like this.

It has made such a huge difference in my out look at life and at my future.  I feel at peace here on Windy Hill today, and I have Dobby and Cohort to thank for it.

I'm really hoping that the next time they decide to help (I have a list) that I will at least have the oven hooked up so that I can feed them a real meal.  If not, I do have a crock pot and I am not afraid to use it!

Dining room filled to top

Dining Room almost finished!!

TADAAAA !

Oh and P.S. ...don't you love the way I have the word "we" sprinkled through out this little story as if I had anything more to do with this lovely turn of events beyond asking for help?  I literally did nothing
beyond saying things like "Oh my gosh, this is so wonderful!" and "I think 'we' should put the couch over there."

God is Good!

The Arrival of BlackStone ~ new Training Horse.

Meet BlackStone: Blackstone is my new Dales Pony in training.  He is owned by the same person that owned Argent.  See, all you doubting Nelly's out there, I told you that she would come back. (whew)

BlackStone Dales Pony in training

BlackStone is four years old, and has not been worked with much.  It all started on a dark, drizzly, windy, cold night here at Windy Hill...as if we ever have any other kind of weather here.

What preceded the event was many hours of my son saying "Is her son coming with her?  He is really nice, and he is a good boy too!  Are they  here yet?  When are they going to be here?"

Finally, we got the phone call that BlackStone and company had arrived.  I glanced at my son, he was sleeping soundly...it was a school night...I hate to wake him up so late on a school night...after an internal debate, I let him sleep.

In deference to the cursed and dangerous driveway, Blackstones owner and I mututally agreed that it would be best  (and safest) to meet at the end of the driveway.  This meant it was necessary for me to walk down said lonely, long, dark, dreary driveway by myself, alone, with no one else...hmmm.  That seemed silly, so I left the Mastiff with my son and took the Dane Lab cross ~ I wasn't sure how the Mastiff would greet people in the dark, even if I did tell him it was okay.  I knew that that Kharma would listen to me when I said "It's okay, they are friendly" and not eat anyone.  Besides, I wanted my son to have the Mastiff (Doom) with him while he snoozed away.  I put Doom on "guard" before I left the house, and Kharma and I traversed the dark, lonely driveway.  Read as; Kharma barked her fool head off and raced ahead of me to ward off all impending danger of small children, horses and fancy standard poodle with a cute show groom.   I was left to fumble my way down the driveway; alone.  At least the Mastiff would have stayed right at my side.  Sigh.

Well, I made it to the end of the driveway with out being attacked by coyotes, wild banshees, or other creepy wildlife lurking in the fields on either side of me.

BlackStone Handsome boy

I finally meet BlackStone, a simply lovely coal black example of the Dales Pony with a cute baby doll head, a willing attitude and just enough snort and blow to tell me that he will be super fun to train.  We led him up the driveway with no incidents despite my dog leaping for joy around his legs and pestering poor Poodle to no end.  

Next day, *B_______ noted with interest that Blackstone had arrived and I was treated to all manner of dirty looks, and accusations of not wanting him to ever do anything fun!  I apologized several times.  He seemed mollified in the end, realizing that sleep is very important before school.  Glad the crisis was averted!

Now, I must go, I hear a Dales pony wanting to learn!

Putting the Cart before the Donkey..er Pony...

As some of you know, I very much wanted a Donkey and Cart.  I blame Argent!  I love a long ears no matter what size or shape, and most especially a long ears of the Donkey variety.   My son *B____ used to call Mules and Donkeys "Bunny horses."  when he was very little, due to the long ears.  :)

http://www.museum.oldpicturepostcard.co.uk/donkey-cart.htm

I casually mentioned that I wanted a Donkey and Cart while on the phone with Michael, as we were on the phone, I was browsing Craigs list for said Donkey and Cart.  I stumbled across a Pony and Cart...hmm, close...

Michael said to call them.  Now, Michael knows me very well, he is aware of my hideous horse/pony/donkey addictions.  He certainly knows better than to be an enabler by saying things like "Call them."  but he did it anyway.  Shame on you Michael!  Personally, I think he gets a kick out of hearing me squeal like a little girl when I am excited.  Then again, it was late and he had other things (like sleep and Fairy Princesses) on his mind when he said to call them.

Call them I did.  Somehow by the magic of all that is in the Universe, Michael found time to go look at the pony and cart, we took my son.  We had a nice trip, we saw the little black pony that is "really difficult to catch" and the man hooked him up to the cart for us.  We took a little trip in the pony and cart.  I let Michael drive.

He was hooked.  We have a pony and cart!

Our Pony and Cart

*B_____ and I drove pony and cart all the way to the small local store (about 3 miles away.)  We had the best time ever!  Big burly men in pick up trucks would stop, roll down their windows and say "Man, oh man, that's the coolest thing I have ever seen."  Business men would wave and smile and say "You don't see that every day."  We met our darling neighbors on the way and they they chatted to us like we had known each other for years.  Little children rode by on their bicycles and waved and several wanted to pat the pony and asked where we were going.  One little girl was so excited that she jumped up and down with her hands clasped in front of her chest yelling "Oh Mommy! Mommy!  It's a pony! A real pony!  It's right here in the street! Oh Mommy! Come and look Mommy!"

We saw the old Church that is closed for repairs up close and it's even more awesome up close like that, we saw squirrels and thanked God when the barking dogs were behind a fence.  Pony was not phased by any of it.  The dogs, squealing little girls, big pick ups, combines in the fields, other horses in nearby pastures prancing wildly, and calling out to us...none of this changed pony's little trotting gate or gave him pause in any way.  He had a grand time.  *B____ even drove for a spell.

"Pony"

Upon arriving to the store, I discovered that when I reached into my pocket for the phone, I had also pulled out my $10.00 bill and lost it somewhere along the way.  Ah well, perhaps we will find it one day.  Luckily I had other money in my other pocket... (It's a habit I have, I'm like a squirrel, I stash money in all manner of pockets and cubbies and whatnots: that way I always have a few dollars even when I think I'm out of money)  Besides, it wouldn't be a certified Windy Hill adventure without some sort of mishap now would it?

Having a pony and cart leads to all sorts of other things that I didn't necessarily think of when I was on my little Pony and Cart rainbow ride.  Things like myself building a stall in the barn for the precious little guy to stay in.  The fences are built so high up that he would walk right under them, he can't live in the round pen forever..not with a training horse coming and I need the round pen!

This calls for myself and my son (who happens to be the son of a great carpenter) <<<<that is important information.   As we all know I am a girly girl, I don't know the first thing about building a stall.

My dream stall...looks mysteriously familiar...hmmm

So, here are some notes.

• Lumber needs room to ride in your Auto.  A cute hybrid will not accommodate real lumber. 
• Stalls need latches, hinges, screws, staples and more wood.  

Hmm, I asked my carpenters son ...son...what he thought.  After thoughtfully looking at our choices, and chastising me just one more time for not bringing the pick up truck like a normal person, he chose some materials and off we went. 

Now, for the stall building portion of this little venture, my son was not home, this meant I had to figure it out for myself.  Pony watched anxiously from the corner of the barn.   Somewhere in my head, I do know that you should make the door/walls etc. on the floor and then put them up.  For the life of me, I couldn't see how you could get things positioned and nailed and looking like a stall like that.  So, I went about it all wrong  and put it up as I went.  As I went along,  I was getting the picture of how to do all of this on the floor first.  Too late!  Things were nailed and hinged and screwed up already.  Why staples?  I knew you would ask.  I'm using a screen type material for the door.  He is only a small pony and wont be pushy, he just needs a block is all, and the size of lumber I would have needed would not fit in the accursed hybrid.   The mesh screen is stapled to the lumber.  

I got it done.  Pony has a stall.

Pony got out of the stall two days later by going under the mesh just as my son predicted would happen.  Never doubt a carpenters son!    

Took me 20 minutes to capture very difficult to catch pony.  He is young, he wants to run and play.  I let him play in the round pen while I figured out how to fix the stall.  I located some longer wood that was left over from shipping crates.  Wish I had thought of it earlier.  Fixed the stall.

I am so happy and grateful for the many fun hours behind the reins that Pony is sure to provide my son and I  as we trot along in our cart behind our steady little pony.  His official name here at Windy Hill is indeed pony.  The man we purchased him from called him about 15 different things (some of them not so flattering)  in as many minutes, so I don't believe pony is offended by the simple name "Pony."  As an aside, yes, I am aware that "Pony" is actually a miniature horse by breed, but we are going to continue to call him Pony and I will continue to talk about my Pony and Cart even though, he is really a "mini."