Egads. It’s been months. MONTHS.

Good morning from the frigid side of our mountain. Living on the side of a mountain, north side to be exact, has benefits and not-so-much-benefits.  Very little sun during the winter months is one of the not-so-much-benefits.  Interesting and intriguing visitors is one of the best benefits.

In the past few weeks we’ve been visited by foxes, a resident moose (not our Matilda, but the man of the house thinks it may be Matilda’s 3 year old daughter—it’s always best not to question these assertions, but instead, to just let them hang out there in the air…)—-where was I?  Oh yes, our visitors also included two (2) male bighorn sheep!  I kid you not.  Aengus got all hot and bothered, running to the front window, the back door, barking up a storm and just generally trying to get our attention.  When the munchkin-who-no-longer-really-qualifes-as-a-munchkin that I live with decided to find out what the hullabaloo was about, she excitedly exclaimed “MOM!!!  Get in here!!!”  The photos are fuzzy I do apologize and only of the second as the first had already jumped the fence and headed up the hill.  The deer were gorgeous and looked healthy.  The next day we saw 7 up on the hill as we drove out, including a buck with a magnificent rack.  We are entertained daily by two squirrels who chase each other away from the ground below the bird feeders, though one day they had a face-off.

So in general, winter here may not bring the warmth and the blessing of the sun, but instead if offers a smorgasbord of nature.  It’s difficult to get a lot done as we find ourselves watching the myriad birds flitting about, the antics of the squirrels or the beauty of the hooved ones as they pick their way through the snow.

My blog has been through a few iterations over the last many years.  Posts about the ridiculous situations I have found myself in while living on the side of a mountain in the middle of nowhere, the beauty of our surroundings, the revolving seasons that seem to be felt more keenly here.  When I read back through the archives I find I repeat myself at certain times of year, especially at the changing of the seasons.  I specifically didn’t write about it this fall as I felt like a broken record.  At least I’m consistent, eh?

And then there are all the political posts.  I’m certainly not one to keep my opinions to myself and I’ve made sure to type them out from time to time.  I was with some family last Friday and the subject of Michelle Obama and her comments on “leaning in” came up.  Boy did I unload on that one.  I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned it here.  Certainly it is a hot topic.  Women in the workforce.  I call hogwash, bullpucky, malarkey on that whole “Lean In” thing.  Ms. Sandberg doesn’t know a thing about raising a child and attempting to work  outside the home.  Oh sure, she may do it.  But with a full-time nanny parked adjacent to her office and a cadre of help at home. I feel I am allowed to speak on this issue with some authority as I possess not just one, but two professional degrees.  I am also a full-time homeschooling mother. I work outside the home.  I gave up my veterinary career to raise my daughter.  I knew there was no way, NO WAY, I could do both and do them well.  I give 1000% of me to whatever endeavor I am engaged in.  That 1000% could not be split and either my daughter (and thus my husband and home) would suffer or my veterinary patients would suffer.  Instead I work as a physical therapist in human medicine (the ICK factor is off the charts),still trying to wear all the other hats I’m supposed to, here at home.  Lean In my patootie.

Whew, that was a rant.  What I was going to write was that my political voice has been screaming at me on the inside but I’m afraid to put the words down in black on the white.  The last two years have been tumultuous.  They’ve been a seriously long bad dream.  I was aware of the insanity of it all this weekend, when, working with a patient, after I was asking questions trying to determine cognitive status, he blurted out “the president is Trump.”  The last questioner (not sure how many hours before me) had used the question “who is the president” as a marker for helping to determine how oriented this person was.  Normally, I simply mute the television when it’s blaring Fox News and I steer FAR away from anything political when I’m in a patient’s room.  This time I said “Nope. I’m not talking about Trump.”  I realize this is not a big statement and it’s not really political by any means, but to me it was huge.  For one, I said his damn name out loud in the hospital, away from here, my safe haven.  I acknowledged, in a way, that he is the president. (damn it)  And I was forceful and I moved on.  Baby steps.  Meaning, I’m tired of being silent.  I’m tired of the insanity.  I walked away from that room sort of shaking my head at the reality of the situation.  That man is our president.  Still.  It has been 2 long years of absolute insanity.   And I cannot believe this is where we’re at.  My daughter grew up knowing our Republic was in good hands with a sane administration and Barack Obama at the helm.  My daughter fell asleep on the couch on November 8, 2016 with tears in her eyes, hoping against hope that what she knew to be happening wasn’t happening.  She has now spent formative years of her life listening to the blabbering, blathering idiot in the Oval Office.  Every time he comes on the radio, it’s a race to see who can turn the station faster…her or me.  After which she exclaims something akin to “I know more words than he does” or “doesn’t he even know x, y or z???”  Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

An education for her I guess.  We’ve been to more marches than I can count.  We’re well versed in all things political here and certainly know more than our esteemed president about the Constitution, the Bill of Rights, the Congress, the history of our nation.  Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

And yet, what has that gained us? A mother (me) who swears A LOT.  I had to promise that when he is finally gone and dear Goddess of the Universe erased from our brains, I will stop swearing.  It’s gained us an education I guess.  It’s increased our civic contributions.  My daughter can draw a mean caricature of the orange buffoon in the Oval.  I’ll share it here.  You’ll see what I mean.

So many words.  So little time.  We must get started on Chemistry, Logic, Math (algebra).  With time out for watching the birds and the squirrel games.

Blessed be.

(I, gasp, deleted the photos of the beautiful deer. BUT! Stop the presses.  Aengus is going nuts right now!!  Coyote.  Big, fluffy coyote.  Too fast for me to get a photo.)

About madranchwife

Mother, Mad Ranchwife(as in--at times-- crazy, nutso, loco, off-my-rocker insane), Veterinarian, Physical Therapist, "Liberal, pinko, gay-loving, Subaru-driving Socialist" (as I've been called), proud to be a totally tree-huggin', climate change believin', granola girl environmentalist, ObamaGirl, Pro-Choice (don't even get me started here...), and in my younger days a feminist vegetarian as a result of time spent at CU Boulder (this lasted approximately 14 months, until all the Jimmy Buffett I was listening to caused me to crave a cheeseburger). Now I just get pleasure out of swimming against the stream and ruffling a few feathers here in the wild west state of Wyoming!
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