TJ's stall has been reinforced and he's not happy about it at all. He actually spent the entire night in it, unable to parade around the aisle creating havoc. I had a full night's sleep, uninterrupted by a crazed visage appearing over my stall guard every five minutes and saying "ARE YA SLEEPIN' AGAIN, OLDMAN?" I'm sure it won't last.
I was supervising the male human while he worked on TJ's stall - I pointed out that he was using the wrong drill bit - he eventually saw the light and went to get another. Then I sorted out the tool box for him while he was gone. I think he was quite surprised when he saw the radical changes I had made.
He and the woman were idly chatting while she did chambermaid duty and he worked on the stall. The conversation turned to the musical tastes of each of the barn inhabitants. My tastes are well known; anything Gregorian goes at the top of my list. I can see myself in a long woolen robe, spending the day chanting in the company of other like -minded individuals. For light listening, I enjoy a bit of Gustav Mahler.
Molly's heroine is Dolly Parton - for whom she is a dead ringer. I can see her in a too-tight, over-the-top evening gown, warbling "Islands in The Stream", half a litre of lipstick on her bulbous muzzle. She would, of-course, open a "Molly-Wood" theme park that featured mainly booths selling fatty foods, and a lake, with truck tire inner tubes, in which to wallow. A place I would never visit.
Doc's tastes are equally easy to pinpoint. Anything heavy metal, or Bruce Springsteen's "Cadillac Ranch" (or any Springsteen song dealing with steel mills closing down). He favourite tunes for humming out on the trail are Stompin' Tom's "Good Old Hockey Game" or "Sudbury Saturday Night". He loves the lyric "Ohhhh, da girls are playin' bingo and da boys are gettin' stinko" from the latter song, which he repeats over and over and over, ad nauseum.
TJ knows very little of anything musical but heard a recording of AC/DC - some sort of electrician's orchestra - and he's very taken with "Dirty Deeds" and "Highway to Hell". Why am I not surprised. I tried to introduce him to some light opera but he rolled his eyes back in his head, stuck out his tongue and said "Blehhhhhh" before galloping off with a flick of his tail.
There you have it - a bout of silliness from humans grown addled by winter. But, addled though they are, they know to never leave a rock station on in my barn. I smashed the radio at the last place and since then it's been strictly classical.
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8 comments:
Shaeffer- your T shirt is going out tomorrow....hope you enjoy it, maybe your "Woman" can be talked into hanging it on your bare walls to brighten the place up for you. I truly agree with your taste in music, have you ever heard any Russian Acapella mens choir stuff? AMAZING....400 or so men doing some really great classical AND GREGORIAN pieces. Makes the heart swell and gives reason to about anything, except TJ of course.
Mr Gale
Dear Shaeffer:
I have been following your plight for some time now. I have some questions and suggestions.
1) I may have missed this in one of your earlier postings, but what exaclty is TJs full name: "Too Juvenile", "Tiny Juggernaught", "Terrible Joke", "Total Jack@#$" (the latter being a name I could not expect your politeness to actully verbalize on-line).?
2) Have you informed TJ that historically mules actualy worked for a living. It may be that your humans' do not actually need of a single-unit-mule-train. However as an alternative, perhaps the woman could fasion a type of tool-belt for TJ. One that he could carry the male human's tools about the property. In this way TJ could assit the human as the latter conducts his maitenance duties about your estate. (and TJ would not be pestering you while in the employ of the human). I admit it might be too dangrous to allow TJ to carry or be near actual power tools. But what about simple hand-tools ? Say a collection of crow-bars to carry about? From your postings it seems to me that both TJ and the male human sound like the kind of guys who might enjoy prying things appart.
3) Although no doubt you are too modest to mention it, I am certain that with a name like Shaeffer you have excellent penmanship and caligraphy skills. As such I suggest the world would be forever grateful to you if you would be kind enough to apply those skills to create a formal "Declaration of the Donkey Dynasty", in a beautiful script, befitting the importance of such a historic document. Once completed you could get one of your staff to post it on your blog. Statutes you may consider including might be the raising of the letter "D" to the staus of a vowel, or even a super-vowel. You could decree a grammatical rule that at least two words in each sentence must begin with the letter "D". (Note: "Super vowel D" here is in no way connected with super delegates of the democratic party, despite their excellent taste in logos).
Just some ideas for your consideration.
Signed
Grimsby
( I may be in another dimension, but I kept my e-mail)
Hay Sheaffer - I just found your blog - I like it - I will read it all the time - I read Bazzy in Australia - so where are you located? I'm in Paws Rump, Nevada.
Buddy the horse - of course
Hey Buddy the horse, I think it would be great if we could switch Sheaffer's TJ for Bazz's Toothy. Bazz would "hoof" TJ and bite him on his bum. I do believe Toothy and Sheaffer being mature gentleman would have a much better relationship!
Hi everybody else, it's freezing in WV today brrrrr. I'm still spending most of my free time staining and polyurethaning mouldings for the cabin. Seems to be no end to the stuff!I haven't forgot about teaching everybody how to play feed pan Frisbee; just haven't had time to write a story!
Got to go MUCH too cold to sit still in front of the computer must go do something aerobic to get the old blood pumping. TTYL.
Leslie
Shaeffer,,,,
I always leave your blog on a tab in my browser, so that anytime I get pissed off or aggrivated at something, I can just click on the tab and get a laugh to soothe the nerves....THANK YOU immensely!!
Mr Gale
Mr. Gale, I'm on the verge of excitement over the tee shirt arrival. I'm sure it will look splendid on me. Knowing the woman, there may be a bit of a "property rights" issue. I have instructed her to look into the Russian Acapella music - sounds very much to my taste.
grimsbyj - welcome to the extended Sheaffer family - wondered if you might contact me from the ether. Your ideas are magnificent in scope. The letter "D" for donkey, changed to a super-vowel and it's use made law - I can only wonder how I didn't think of it. I also very much like the idea of TJ weighted down with crowbars but who knows what he could do if he ever found out what they're for.
And Buddy The Horse - did you say you're from Nevada?? It sounds WARM there - a good place for a donkey to live. I too enjoy the Bazzy blog - I would be willing to exchange Toothy for TJ anytime (as Montana's Mama suggested). Toothy has the advantage of being well stricken in years - unlike a young, hyperactive mule I could name.
Mr. Gale - I can send you TJ - he thinks he's a laugh a minute...
Big brains are better
Grimsby - you are not only (apparently) dead, but you are a horse, which puts you far behind us donkeys. To quote a Canadian donkey authority,
"Donkeys have a life span of 30 to 50 years, which is greater than that of the horse.
Larger brain capacity is evidenced by the fact that donkeys require bridles with a larger browband than that needed for a comparable size of horse or pony. Donkeys are reported to have developed an intelligence superior to that of the horses, but its instincts give rise of different behavior, in certain circumstances, which many misconstrue as stubbornness. For example, it is not the nature of the donkey to run in panic when frightened as the horse instinctively does. Under the same conditions donkeys are more likely to stop, stand still and study the situation carefully to determine the best course of action."
So there.
I would say more but I recently had a bad drug experience involving a total stranger who (I believe) assailed me with sharp instruments. Fred has lost what little trust he had in human beings and now bolts at the sight of a bucket.
On second thought, maybe Fred has a bit of horse in him...
Oh no, Ginger! I had the same experience at the age of one and have never, ever forgiven or forgotten the crazed lunatic (vet) who did this to a very personal and private area. Someday I'll go to his house and turn him upside down on his lawn and let him experience the pain and humiliation. Hah!
Oh, Grimsby was a dog...but very donkey-like in character.
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