Living on a farm, it’s not unusual to find wounded wildlife from time to time. I sometimes carry a gun on the property, but never when it turns out I might need it. I happened to be out unarmed a week before opening day of shotgun season emptying the spreader one evening. That’s when I found Ricky Ricardo. No idea why I called him that, it just popped into my head. Ricky was a little buck and he had obviously gotten hung in the fencing and broken his foreleg up high.

I ran back to the house, full on adrenaline rush, and came back out with my shotgun. I’ve killed a deer with one shot from considerable distances reasonable for my weapon. But there I was that night, creepin through my pasture like Elmer freakin Fudd at dusk lined up on frightened deer that could hardly move but drag himself a few inches. In retrospect, I went too close to him and should have come in from behind. Hindsight. That’s a whole different blog.

I’m going to be honest now, not because I am proud of what followed, but because it’s a story and stories should be told. I didn’t want to miss and I wanted him to die fast. I shot Ricky a total four times. Yes, I reloaded. Laugh, it is ridiculous. My first shot was shaky, he moved, and I hit him in his already broken shoulder. The last three were perfect head shots. Ricky just didn’t die straight off like I wanted him too and I couldn’t stop shooting at him until he did. He twitched, for a while. It would have been less disturbing to go beat him to death with the butt of my gun. The neighbors didn’t speak to me for about two weeks, because all this went down right next to their backyard.

Now I am traumatized and alone with Ricky Ricardo looking like he lost a gun fight with the Russian mob. My dad and a friend of mine have all the good cutting up deer knives and it’s a week before opening day and they were both traveling. I called my friend’s wife and she called a friend who owns a butcher shop. Cue crime scene clean up.

I don’t know why, but my friend and I put Ricky Ricardo in the spreader rather than the bucket of the tractor. The whole affair was a comedy of errors. We struggled to get him in the truck with a homemade landowner tag on his tiny rack and off we go. This should be the end of the story, but remember, there are a bunch of seasoned hunters waiting for us at the butcher shop.

The owner gutted Ricky for me in the shop, something he won’t do for just anyone. The overkill was obvious and he could barely see what he was doing through the tears of laughter. Ricky Ricardo was the only named deer to date to grace the freezer at the shop and he will never be forgotten. All I have to do is walk in and say babalooooo, because I’ll never be forgotten either.

I’m thankful for so much, I don’t know where to start. I could list more than 30 things I’m sure, but the donks are a honkin.
I am blessed with an amazing family and amazing friends. I appreciate everything we share and every difference each of you brings into my life. I don’t know what I would do without you. You know who you are.
I am especially thankful this year to have found a solid, lifelong position in the workforce with room to grow and a challenging but enjoyable work environment. What could have been a devastating year turned out to be pretty wonderful, I’m thankful for the chance.
I’m thankful for my Ipod, because fuck Alice’s Restaurant.
I’m thankful for the farm; it gives me purpose and keeps me out of so much trouble.
I’m thankful for the furry, chicken murdering, yard art’s shaped like ass. I laugh at them daily.
I’m thankful for my horses, especially Karma, there are days I don’t feel like my heart even beats unless I am sitting on your back.
I’m thankful for the shortness; he proved to me I can train a dog to be both unbelievable loveable and super annoying. No more puppy tug of war.
I’m thankful for the cats and their constant reminders I am insignificant in this world short of my ability to open a can. They will evolve to possess thumbs of their own one day.
I’m thankful for all the people and animals passed; you all gave me just as much as I ever gave you.

It’s so easy to be thankful for the good things. I’m thankful for all the bad things too. The farm troubles, horse accidents, random dead chickens, brain dead wild turkeys stuck in the field, cripple deer, broken spreader, flat tires, busted hydrants, trees down, broken fence, hurricanes, tornadoes, bad dates, good dates that don’t go anywhere, failed relationships, all of the challenges I’ve faced this year and every year just made me stronger and better. I still have a long way to go, but perhaps one day I’ll be as amazing as I like to think I am.  Thanks for always challenging me to grow. 

I’m most thankful I’m still here with the opportunity to be a little better every day.

Chapter 1 – WTF was I thinking?
Chapter 2 – Shit always breaks, get over it.
Chapter 3 – My cute little asses are furry murdering midgets 
Chapter 4 – This turkey isn’t leaving.  A field guide to terding. 
Chapter 5 – I’m happy to help anytime, provided I can stare at your ass.
Chapter 6 – Are you ready to give up yet?
Chapter 7 – Fifty Shades of Strays, because you will die alone with too many cats
Chapter 8 – Suicidal Deer – gutting game for the squeamish
Chapter 9 – OMG, are you f*cking kidding me? Making peace with bad weather. 
Chapter 10 – Well pumps only break in two feet of snow.
Chapter 11 – Life is like a layup, you never run enough in the field until you’ve spent some time locked up in the barn.
Chapter 12 – If pipes break, it will happen when you are not home.
Chapter 13 – Great risk = great reward
Chapter 14 – Or great failure, one of the two
Chapter 15 – Hard work and dedication are not hot.
Chapter 16 – How not to hoist a 26ft ladder over a 20ft beam alone.
Chapter 17 – How to hoist a 26ft ladder over a 20ft beam alone.
Chapter 18 – Chainsaws can maim and kill.
Chapter 19 – You can’t wait forever for a saw-sitter.
Chapter 20 – How to rent a husband without pissing off his wife.
Chapter 21 – You can make friends with the wood stove, but dad will always want the splitter back before you are done with it.
Chapter 22 – You really can learn to fix anything if you are not too concerned with appearances
Chapter 23 – Anyone not gratified by challenge, hard work and outright impossibilities will be sure you are warped or weird or both.
Chapter 24 – You are.
Chapter 25 – Nights spent in, drinking and counting your cats are safer than nights out. Save your effort.
Chapter 26 – Always delete your internet search history, you never know when the cats might finally succeed in killing you.  
Chapter 27 – Never watch lifetime channel while you are drinking alone.
Chapter 28 – WTF was I thinking?  Obviously, I was thinking I could do anything I might have to.  So far, I’m still doing it. 

Appendix A – Sex toys, a comprehensive review
Appendix B – A beginner’s guide to your tool box
Appendix C – Drywall can be patched right, how the hole ended up in the wall is not important
Appendix D – A girl’s guide to nails, screws, nuts and bolts. Out of a 1,000 choices, you can get by on a farm with 10 or so.
Appendix E – Tools not to buy
Appendix F – Tools to buy.
Appendix G – A field guide to poisonous trees and plants. If it can kill them, your pets will eat it.
Appendix H – Sweeping the Chimney, it helps to whistle while you work.
Appendix I – Plumbing terminology simplified. Because WTF?
Appendix J – Electricity, when in doubt, shut off ALL the breakers.

I may not be a fairy tale princess
BUT

I know dedication. I know love. I know tolerance. I know loyalty. I know hard work. I know big reward. I know what it means to give yourself to something one hundred and ten percent. I understand I get no vacation days, no sick time, no benefits most days beyond the wind in my hair and the grass under my feet. I’ve slept in a cold barn three winter nights in a row to nurse a sick horse with nothing but a portable heater, a straw bale bed and a girlfriend as dedicated as I am. I understand responsibility and I know you don’t ever get a break from it. I’m happy to pick the hair out of my food, work more than I relax, sometimes spend more than I make, organize more than I clean, and endure weather no one in their right mind would ever walk out in, let alone ride a horse through.

My dad used to put people we worked with into three categories, those who would die for the company, those who would kill for the company and those who don’t care. He always said I was a ‘kill for the company’ girl. He would go into battle with me. That’s the highest compliment my father pays anyone.