V is for...

vaccination.

I just had a shot for tetanus.  I couldn't remember when my last shot was, and between working on the fence near the chicken yard, and helping off and on with Mom's kitchen remodel...  I figured it was time.

When I was in school, my Mom. and her friend, would take all of we kids in to have shots, then to have ice cream.  It seemed like we were getting shots a lot, but having had family that had polio before the vaccine was available, I didn't feel like it was too big of a deal.

We were shuttled into the office, and the nurse went to get our respective charts.  We kids were chatting about what we would get at the ice cream store. My one friend would always get the largest ice cream available, and have it gone before it managed a drip.  Myself, a more moderate cone, chocolate, and if I was lucky, I might manage to get it eaten before the ice cream melted to a slurry on my shirt.

Soon enough, the nurse trotted back.  We kids all looked up to see who the first "victim" was.  The nurse had a big smile, and a bit of a twinkle in her eye, as she called us ALL up.  She announced to our moms, "These kids won't need immunizations for at least 5 years, they are all caught up."

The first response from we kids, "We are still going for ice cream, right?"  THEN we were happy to not be pin cushions for a while.

Priorities, you know.

V is for Vehicle.

Contemplating all the modes of travel I have used at one time or another...

I have ridden in, or driven...

Let's see... a trike, a bike, a horse, a stage coach, one or two different types of carriages, several different vehicles, a log flume, rafts, sailboat, motorcycle, a car hood, (is a pogo stick transportation?), sled.  I am sure there are probably more, but that was what I cold think of quickly.

It's amazing how the car, especially has changed over time.  From a "Tin Lizzie" to the newest models off the showroom floor, they do all sorts of things now... But.

But, I am amazed how something that is simply a device to transport you from A to B, can be such an amazing statement of personality.  I have run the gamut from small cars to small station wagons, to a larger truck, back to a small truck, and now a Jeep.  (Well, Husband and I share the small truck, but the Jeep is mine... Mostly.)

Anyway, if it was strictly for moving my 'stuff' and me and mine to and fro, I would have the truck.  But I know some that would have none of that, they have a car that has super audio, electric everything, might even brew coffee for you, as many woo things as it has.

But, it's still a car.

Then there's Dad.  When he had his first rig, it was a Model A.*  Time went on, he has had trucks, work vans, cars, etc, as time and finances came and went.  He is now building the car he's wanted for years.

Another Model A.

Is this a case of what goes around comes around???

* For any technically inclined, I believe it is actually a Model AA.  But we refer to it as Big A, and the new one as Little A.  I will try and get some pics for a future blog.  And yes, he still has the one he had as a kid... 

V. Variety. Variations on commands.

I have tried to come up with something for v.  So, here it is. 

We have a couple variations on standard commands for the dog, the chickens (yes, the chickens), and one for the llamas.

First, Rudee.  He has one command that I have a suspicion not too many other dogs have.

"Moo".  Said loudly, and sometimes with a "no" after.  It's a command that more or less translates to, "you have been eating grass for the last 10 minutes, knock it off." (He eats too much, it will make him sick.) Occasionally, we have to repeat it, as he will check, see that we aren't watching (or so he thinks), then will slllloooowly put his head down and take another bit of grass in his mouth.  Leading to a louder moo, with a definite no.  That usually gets him to stop. 

Has also made the neighbors give us funny looks...

A hand command, picture an underhand in softball.  This is his non-verbal command for either 'go in your kennel', or 'you can eat now'.  I have used it so much, sometimes I can just make the motion, and he goes into his kennel.  The funny part, this is mostly the time I have a bit of trouble, as he will turn around and stick his head out to be petted.  Guess he figures, I can signal for him to go to the kennel, them hands are fine for scratching, too...

"Beep."  This one is shorthand when I am walking, for, "you are going to get a walking pole into your backside if you don't move.  Urgently repeated, if I am tipping over, and he has stuck his head in a rabbit hole.  He doesn't seem to pay attention to "go", "move", "watch it", but "beep" seems to get his attention every time, but it's when I am walking.  All the other aforementioned commands work fine with both Husband and I, when we are by the house. 

Go figure.

This leads to the chicken command.  When I had a big batch of chickens, (about 30 total, pre-bobcat), I had to get them to move away from the gate when I opened it, or they would get caught as it swung open.  The least that would happen is a chicken rolled in mud, but I had a few injured, too, so I came up with the idea of making a sound when I opened the gate. 

The only thing that immediately came to mind was the back up alarm of a truck.  You know, 'beeeep, beeep, beeeep...'.  Well, I did this, every day, every time I went out to the chickens.  Pretty soon, they would all back up from the gate simultaneously.  This worked really well at times when I had my hands full, packing in feed! 

The best part, however, was when we had a delivery of rock.  The truck slowly backed up the drive, beeep, beeep, beeep, and the next thing I know... 

The whole flock had dutifully walked away from the gate, and were looking around intently, to see when I would walk into the hen yard!  I so wish I had a video of it, they just did exactly what they were supposed to.  I haven't practiced it with this  new group, they are much more aware of the gate for some reason, and stay away from it, for the most part.  (Rudee doing herding practice for wayward birds, perhaps?) 

The llamas, they have one word, it's not a command, really, it's to call them for breakfast.  I have no idea why I started saying it the way I did, but I call for them, "Brekkers!"  I started that when I first had them eating grain, and now, they will ignore anything, except when I call for brekkers.

However, llamas aren't known for being overly gregarious, affection overloaded animals, either, so there you go.  Way to a llama's heart... Food. 

Like other beings I've heard of.