My best solution for Holiday gift giving during a recession? Make those hard-earned duckets count.

Here are some high impact gifts for under $100.00!

For the Product Whore:

Philosophy Gift of Beautiful Skin $85.00

Philosophy is amazing and this set includes all the heavy hitters.

Philosophy Skincare Basics $31.58

A cheaper, less well stocked version of the above. A great introductory set.

Bare Escentuals RareMinerals Miracle Remedies $35.00

This is perfect for the sensitive skinned product slave on your list!

bareMinerals Sweet Obsessions Eye Color Collection $43.68

Gorgeous, highly pigmented mineral shadows in a host of beautiful colors. Cute box, too.

BeneFit Tinted Love $38.00

The best. BeneTint is the multi-tasking product every make up slut should own.

Urban Decay 24/7 Super Stash $36.00

Just look at all the pretty colors. So preetttty.

Caudalie Spa in a Bag $30.00

Caudalie is very French and very potent.

Rosebud Perfume Co. Lip Balms $16.00

Must have. Bottom line. No excuses.

Thriven Overnight Conditioner $52.00

My best friend. Without Thriven my hair would be a nightmare. The $52 dollar tub should last 5-6 months depending.

The Jewelry Hound:

Amrita Singh Sterling Silver Cocktail Ring $60.00

Everyone should have a gigantic cocktail ring!

Fascinator Comb $38.00

The easiest way to fancy up an outfit.

Tiffany Alphabet Disc Charm $100.00

Classic romance.

From O'Keeffe Necklace $48.00

Why am I not wearing this right now? Seriously?

Cashmerrily Comfy:

Lightwieght Cashmere Wrap $72.99

Affordable luxury.

Webalina Couture Cashmere Fingerless Gloves $35.99

Adorable luxury.

Easy Cashmere Scarf $68.00

Even more affordable luxury.

Easy Cashmere Cap $58.00

Jaunty luxury.

The Always Appreciated:

La Petit Gift Tower $56.00

French chocolate. It is amazing. Trust me on this.

Engraved Silver Plate Purse Mirror $24.95

Useful and special. When given the option to engrave, I always do.

Art Nouveau Diffuser Set $90.00

Beautiful to look at and functional. Perfect.

Natori Shangri-La Robe $98.00

Natori is amazing. This incredibly comfortable robe comes in sizes up to 2x. The 1x offerings are even more staggeringly fantastic.

Blue Diadem Jewelry Box $98.00

A good jewelry box is essential.

Merry Spirits Scarf $88.00

Must have. Right now.

First off, a Thanksgiving news alert:  I don’t plan to post on Thursday, November 26 or Friday, November 27.  I’m headed off to visit my in-laws in Detroit, and they have these crazy ideas about people sitting in the same room and enjoying each others’ company.  :)

It’s been a quiet week as the US readies for the holiday.  

Well, not entirely quiet.  The second Twilight flick,  New Moon, premiered.  Names spotted among those turning out for the festivities included designer Rachel Roy brought her 10 year old daughter Ava.  Rachel and husband Damon Dash also have a toddler called Tallulah Ruth.  (via Celebrity Baby Blog)  It’s interesting to see parents who embraced Ava ten years ago, when she was still on the rise, using Tallulah more recently.  Anyone else think that the once-outlandish name that had everyone abuzz when the Moore-Willis clan used it will go mainstream?  And if a search for “baby names Twilight” brought you here, check out this post: Not Just for Vampires Anymore.

In other celeb news, Tiffani Thiessen tells Extra that she and her husband aren’t considering “any freaky names.”  She doesn’t mention whether going through life as Tiffani-Amber colored her view.  We’ll have to wait and see.

On to some real life name-spotting:

• I just returned from Target.  I was buying toddler tights while another mom was trying to persuade her daughter to try on a coat, but the daughter?  Was fleeing to the just-steps-away toy department.  The name the mother was calling?  ”Miracle!  Miracle, come back here!”  Insert your own joke about it-taking-an-act-of-God to distract a 3 y.o. from the toy department here;
• Bewildertrix has spotted Leonidas George.  My baby brother swears Leonidas will be the name of his firstborn son, should that happy event ever come to pass.  She also uncovered an Elisabetta Ivy.  And a Zuma.  (No Gwen Stefani isn’t in New Zealand – he’s Zuma Louis, a non-celeb baby brother for Ava and Remi.)
• For Real Baby Names spotted Dafne.  It may be a valid foreign variant, but to me it is like Jorja/Georgia - this one just looks better as the more familiar Daphne. 

Now for two Language Lessons from that sage font of wisdom, Nancy:

• Hard G vs. Soft G – Sometimes they’re interchangeable – as in Jorja/Georgia – but other times, swapping a J for a G leads to confusion;
• Doubling consonants – Ditto doubling a consonant.  It’s another popular way to make a name “unique,” but it can also cause confusion.

Truly unusual names are always found at Nameberry, and this week’s posts were no exception.  Check out the Lost Boys’ Names of 1880.  Why aren’t more boys named Zeb?  Or Hardy?  Others – including titles like Squire and Commodore – are best left to history.  (I work with a man in his 50s named General.  I don’t get the impression that he thinks much about his name one way or the other.)  For a change, the girls’ list is almost less interesting – maybe because I wouldn’t raise an eyebrow if I met a 2 y.o. called Mahala or Texas. 

Let’s end on a controversial note: the shortcomings of the Baby Name Wizard.  I recently noticed a post on Swistle (a big BNW adherent) that troubled me.  Just a few days earlier, Nancy recounted a similar story on her blog.  

An expectant mother, mom to Sophia, wrote to Swistle about the name Allegra.  She and her husband loved the name Allegra.  Loved the way nicknames Allie and Sophie sounded together.  But she worried about the allergy medication association.

Swistle wrote: “I love the name Allegra—and every time I want to suggest it, I back away because of the allergy medicine. I’m ANGRY at the company that stole it.”

Swistle’s poll was evenly split: 52% no to Allegra; 48% yes.  But here’s the thing: Swistle’s framing of the question – “Is the name Allegra too associated with allergy medication to be used for a baby?” made it pretty clear that she thought Allegra was beyond consideration.  (Swistle is usually so judgment-free that I was really surprised by that.)

The mom herself recently wrote in:

“We ended up naming our daughter Lucy. I love her name, but I regret not being gutsy enough to go with Allegra. Personally, I’d encourage anyone considering the name to go for it. No matter what name you choose some people will like it and others will hate it.”

Lucy is a fine name.  I like it lots.  But how sad that much naming advice often tends to push parents to the middle, rather than embracing the names that we really love. 

I suspect the allergy medication reference is fleeting.  When the blogger at For Real Baby Names spotted a Dexy Adelaide, I mentioned the 80s pop hit “Come On, Eileen” – and sent ForReal running to Google.  Dexy, it appears, no longer means “one-hit wonder responsible for lodging the phrase too-rye-aye in my brain.”  And it hasn’t been that long.  It makes me think Allegra will be free of medication association by the time Allie hits the teenage years, if not sooner.

Thanks for reading!

No matter how many times my parents and friends tell me you’re not for me, there’s just something about you that always draws me back to you. It’s ironic, because I have moved on and I know I can love again, and I know.. so can you.

But we are all human and we do, from time to time, think about things that once meant something to us. When I do happen to think about us, I ask myself – What if it was real? Or was it just our story of a summer romance?

I cried my eyes out watching The Notebook, and I can’t help but picture you and myself as Noah and Allie. We were always fighting, but I looked past that. Every time. This was what I saw. But perhaps reality kicks in to remind me I was merely disillusioned.

So maybe we should just be grateful, that at least we can say that there was a point in our lives that we loved one another with all our hearts. We’ve lost one another twice; I guess we know how to lose one another again. Maybe someday we’ll come back, as friends. Maybe we won’t. Maybe, when we walk past one another in school, in the airport, or down a crowded street in your hometown, we pretend like nothing ever happened. We pretend that that one soul in the crowd never stood out to us, and simply let that face fade into the sea of people. Or maybe we secretly yearn to rekindle those flames, but never dare to speak of it.

Life is so short. Should we let go of what we treasure because we are simply of relatively less value and importance to them? Or should we tear down the walls of pride and let it be known that we’re holding on? Noah Calhoun did. Noah never let go.

The best love is the kind that awakens the soul
And makes us reach for more
That plants a fire in our hearts
And brings peace to our minds

And that’s what you’ve given me
And what I hoped to give to you forever.

I believe life is too short to grumble over the unfortunate things that happened. I live each day cherishing what we had, and what I have now. I’ll tear down my walls of pride and confess that Our Notebook is something I treasure, and it is something I will want to revisit at the end of my life.

Hold on to what you cherish
And speak up before it’s too late.

x

Last year, Allie was a ballerina for Halloween…but she was only a month old and wasn’t too thrilled about wearing a tutu and having her picture taken.

This year, however, was much different.  Over the past few weeks while we were shopping, Allie would look at the Halloween costumes and say “dog” to nearly every costume she saw.  That, coupled with her calling every animal she sees a “dog”, we decided that our little girl should dress up as a dog for Halloween.  She was thrilled with her costume…and thrill to be able to walk to the neighbors’ houses to trick or treat.

If she likes Halloween this much…I can’t wait to see what she’ll do when the Christmas tree goes up with presents under the tree!

My wife took my daughter to her first K-State football game over the weekend…and they were able to celebrate a K-State win over Colorado.

Allie enjoyed the game; the band, the Wabash Cannonball and the cheerleaders were her favorites.

I’m sure it won’t be long before she’s ready to enroll in Manhattan!

O Especial Seriados & Realities continua. Dessa vez com The City. 

Como comentei no post anterior, Whitney Port saiu de The Hills para ganhar seu próprio reality show, junto com isso a mudança para New York. Na primeira temporada Whitney trabalhava como coordenadora de imagem da grife Diane Von Furstenberg onde conheceu a socialite Olivia Palermo. Já na segunda temporada Whitney decide voltar para People’s Revolution e lançar sua própria marca, Whitney Eve. Enquanto Olivia começa a trabalhar na revista Elle. Mas as duas merecem posts especiais.

O mais importante é que The City mesmo seguindo a linha de The Hills, tem seus dramas e tudo mais, mas mostra muito mais da moda.

Neste primeiro post sobre The City, vou mostrar o estilo das outras garotas que aparecem no reality.

Na primeira temporada, que está sendo exibida pelo canal Multishow (4ª feiras às 21:00), algumas das meninas já não aparecem mais na segunda temporada. Erin Lucas é a primeira delas, era a única amiga que Whitney tinha quando se mudou para NY. Com um visual mais retro, ela coloca uns toques de modernidade, como uma jaqueta, um cinto, colar, até tênis (não que esse azul tenha ficado muito legal!)

Allie é a segunda, ela é uma modelo que vive em conflito com o namorado Adam. Tem um estilo mais menininha, sainha de cintura alta ou cintura marcada são seus favoritos.

A única das atrizes ‘coadjuvantes’ do reality que permaneceu para a segunda temporada foi a Samantha. Ao contrário de Allie ela tem um jeito mais mulherão de ser com a mesma cintura bem marcada.

Na segunda temporada entraram duas novas integrantes.

Roxy, uma amiga antiga de Whitney que começa a trabalhar com ela na People’s Revolution.

E Erin, trabalha na Elle com Olivia.

Check this shit out:

Genius!

Smashbox’s Halo Hydrating Eye Shadow.

It has this neat little dispenser that shaves off a bit of the eyeshadow in the palate so that the makeup in the compact doesn’t lose it’s moisture over time.

It even separates the shades into two different compartments.

This is perfect and so smart.

Smashbox is great. All their eyeshadows are nearly professional grade so they are highly pigmented and glide on like a dream.

QVC is having a special. You can get the compact of your choice and two brushes for $40 bucks. The brushes alone are worth that.

Watching TV is good for you. I knew it!

P.S. Thanks Allie!

After six days of absence, the sun made an appearance this morning.

My daughter is ready for the return of the sunshine today.  She’s all shaded ready for the warmth!

Today’s forecast includes partly cloudy skies and temperatures near 60.  Tonight’s forecast for Friday night high school football includes clear skies and chilly temperatures with lows in the 40s.

The stench of a high school is unforgettable-the smell of too many bodies crammed into brick box with no way out, the electronic buzzing emanating from stone age computers and filthy speakers, and the rancid odor of stale food and “healthy” choices.  Walking away from one of the few rooms I truly love, I tried my hardest to forget the presence of this foul smell as i drank in my own happiness.  To spoil my excitement on account of a distasteful building was unacceptable.

Bouncing down the steps I soon forgot my discomfort and recollected my thoughts from that afternoon.  My life was changing before my very eyes.  Somewhere between the school bells ringing and the scribble of pencils on paper I had begun to transform.  Perhaps this alteration could be the cause of some predisposed notion that had, in a way, foreshadows the very life I live.  Could this occurence have been planned from the very moment that I was born?  Or the first time I watched Joesphine March in Little Women spin tales of adventure as a blooming five-year-old ? The exact moment that i found myself cannot be dated; in the same way the Renaissance is in lack of a beginning.

Perhaps that is what I am feeling… I wondered to myself.  Could I be  experiencing my own renaissance?  A rebirth of my soul and the awakening of my spirit and creativity once more? It seems strange that someone as young as myself could have even lived long enough to experience a “rebirth” of any kind whatsoever, but I choose to live my life not in relevance to the natural course of time, but by the spontaneous changing of the human spirit and mind.

Hidden beneath the guise of a youthful complection and body I conceal the true mind within; a mind that knows no age and matures at a rate not measurable by one’s idea of physics, or even Einstein’s theories of time and space.  Walking out of the rear door of my academy, I stopped a moment to breathe in the nippy autum air and allow the freshly fallen leaves flow around my body to a rhythmic dance as old as time itself.

Golden sunshine peeked through the tiniest spaces between a billowy cloud creating a rainshower of gold droplets falling across my face; leaving a residue of glistening tones that was absorbed by my very skin.  The gentlest of  breezes tickled my hair and brushed the bangs from my eyes-as a lover stealing a better glimpse of one’s face.  With a gentle smile I succumbed to nature’s embrace and my heart filled with the song of the wind and the whispering voices through leaves spoke tales of magic and adventure to me, the vessle, to translate for all to hear.

e&c

It is a world yet to be known to any man; less explored than the soil we so disturb and the moon we claim as our own- the world of a young woman’s mind when it reaches into the farthest reaches of imagination and love.  It is this very place that i spend most of my days, after a short trip down the rabbit hole.  The very solace that our modern day world tries so desperately to conceal is a land of peace and serenity that has the ability to save even the most tortured soul from self-destruction–if only given the time and space necessary for cultivation.

The land of imagination and storytelling is a destination often visited by all persons who are truly writers at heart.  It is the land of dreams that we were never able to say goodbye to as children.  This land is my savior and redeemer as I learn to spend more and more time in the infinite depths of my mind in search of inspiration and respite.  I pour my soul out here for the sole purpose of an outlet to catch the overflow of writing that cannot quite be captured in the structured pieces that require so fervent an attention.  It is here where the refuse of my thoughts will end up: a most disgusting pile of random thoughts and words that will hopefully come to make sense in one way or another until i learn to properly control my own mind.

With this, I take leave to return to the land of Pride and Prejudice that i have been so fortunate as to visit on holiday.  With a flurrying wave adieu, i am off to visit my beloved Mr. Darcy and Miss Elizabeth as they too struggle with their own thoughts and passions.

A loud fit of coughing had caused Clover to look up from her breakfast. Her father wearily glanced in her direction and then muttered an apology. Clover was used to it; her father had contracted the recent form of influenza that had quickly reached epidemic proportions and infected a large majority of the population. “How do you feel, dad?” she asked timidly.

Her question was answered only by an inaudible mumbling causing her to sigh as she headed up to her room, her shoulder length, light brown hair bounced with her steps. There was no school now, there hadn’t been since the epidemic emerged. Clover’s days were empty now, she liked school. The gossiping in the hallway between classes, talking to friends, scoring admirably on an exam. she loved it. She missed it. Now she spent her time watching TV and playing checkers over the computer. Defeating most opponents, as she had gotten fairly good at it. When she lost she learned, and when she won she celebrated.

As she turned into her room she tripped on a pair of her pants that had resided on her floor since she’d last worn them. She laughed as she plummeted into her unmade bed. In her solitude she had learned to enjoy such things. She turned onto her back and grabbed the remote for her small television, flipping it on to reveal a reporter in an anti-infection mask. “I’m standing here in front of mercy hospital, where several ‘super-flu’ sufferers have fallen into comas or experienced violent, seemingly random, cardiac arrest. Nothing is certain at this point, but it also seems as if the spread of the ‘super-flu’ has also slowed, or come to a complete stop.”

Clover sat up immediately knocking several pillows off her bed. “Comas?” she asked aloud, as she jumped out of bed. She ran downstairs to where she had eaten breakfast with her dad just minutes earlier. “Dad!” the shriek left Clover’s mouth the moment she saw him, standing in the corner, breathing heavily, facing the wall.

Dad?” she asked, “are you alright?” Her dad quickly turned at the sound of her voice, grunting before he sprinted towards her. A loud scream erupted from her as she noticed the red in his otherwise white eyes she turned and broke into a run, not looking at the horror behind her. While beginning to head for the back door a cold hand grasped her wrist. She spun sending her assailant forwards into the ground in front of her. She let out a gasp of pain as her father relinquished his grip too late twisting her wrist.

Ignoring the pain she continued to run for the door. Tears began to pool in her eyes. She flung open the door and continued her sprint stopping only when she reached the fence. She sank to her knees and began to cry, not letting her eyes leave the door where her father could emerge at any minute.

What seemed like minutes later; but was much more likely far less, a large crash erupted just up the street from where the girl sat. Immediately she leaped up to see what was causing all the commotion. She had to stand on her tip-toes to see over the fence. Before her was a disturbing site. In front of her she noticed evidence that a car had collided with someone at an alarming speed. Clover gasped at the site of her mangled neighbour. She’d often watched her walk her dog in front of her house, now she lay lifeless on the ground.

Clover opened the gate to check on her neighbour, and signal for help. She ran up to the old woman and noticed the blankness in her eyes, the same blankness that had been in her fathers when he’d first attacked her. “Help! Somebody, I need an ambulance. Help!”

Then she glanced back at the victim of the terrible car accident. Her eyes twitched and Clover took a step backwards. “What the fuck?!” Clover yelled, too frightened to censor her profanity. With a loud moan the elderly woman began to pick herself up, her bones crunching into place. As the shocked teen retreated to the sidewalk, the would-be-dead woman limped towards her. The woman seemed to have aged incredibly, her hair had turned completely white and the wrinkles on her face had deepened and became more than noticeable. Clover screamed as her once friendly acquaintance wrapped her in a deathly embrace.

The woman’s head moved towards Clover’s neck and she stopped moaning. Clover futilely tried to withdraw and as she was about to give up she heard an almost-familiar sound. The roaring of an engine. A car! Tires screeched causing the assaulter to drop its victim and turn its head. As the car abruptly stopped the door flew open immediately and out stepped an angry looking driver.

The driver had a cricket bat swung over her left shoulder. She had brown straight hair that reached down to her chest and bright blue eyes. She began to approach the victim of the car crash quickly yet cautiously, revealing her jeans that had been roughly cut into shorts and her blue, designer tank top. She placed both hands on her bat and wound up. Clover shielded her eyes as she knew what was coming.

The next thing she heard was a loud smack and she opened her eyes. “Get back!” yelled the mysterious girl placed her sports shoes on the neck of the grounded attacker. Clover quickly complied standing up and running towards the car. One final, violent bang was sounded before the girl spun around and asked, “Have you been bitten?” in an urgent tone, revealing a strong English accent.

“N-no,” replied Clover.

“You’re sure?”

Clover just nodded.

“Good, the name’s Allie, and you can thank me for saving your life in the car.

“You just killed that woman!” Accused Clover.

“It was either her or you, got that? Now get in the car we don’t have much time.”
Clover reluctantly got into the passenger seat of the car. It was a Japanese model, silver, and resembled a compacted mini van.

Once in the car Clover continued to press for information. “What the hell was wrong with her?” she asked sharply.

“She had the super flu, by now everybody with it is like that” And then Clover remembered her dad, and the other several million that had it.

“But the news said that it had began to send people into comas and cause heart attacks!”

“Yes. It does seem that way,” Allie replied, “But those symptoms are short-lived precursors for what you just saw.”

“Didn’t the flu stop spreading at least?”

“All I know,” Allie informed “is that it is now transmittable through bite, and quite possibly the sharing of all other bodily fluids.” At this she chuckled. Clover remained solemn.

My wife and I took our daughter Allie to the pumpkin patch on Monday and it was tons of fun!

Allie was thrilled to ride the slides and the pedal bikes.  She also enjoyed the kiddie hay maze and the walk through the pumpkin patch to find the perfect gourd! 

We chose to visit Walters Pumpkin Patch near Burns, along Highway 77 north of El Dorado.  Being K-State graduates and fans, we had driven by the Walters patch for years on our way to Manhattan but we had never stopped.  Yesterday, we realized what we had been missing.  Seeing the smile on Allie’s face and hearing her giggles as we walked through the field was priceless. 

So, if you’re looking for something to do in the coming days before Halloween…I suggest a visit to Walters.  You can check ‘em out online at http://www.walterspumpkinpatch.com

Where do I start? – Saturday’s wedding included an October snow storm, a drive-thru lumber yard (many thanks to Builder’s), a snoozing ring-bearer, two live chickens, a charter bus, an awesome wedding party, and two of the finest people I’ve had the pleasure of meeting – Do I need to point out the obvious by saying that this was an epic wedding? – Enjoy the sneak peek, the full gallery will be available after October 24

Thank you, Grundy! The great hound himself, shown here in October 2006 with Iroquois joint-Master Jerry Miller

FOR most field members, the first hunt day is a beginning. But to the Masters and hunt staff it is, in many ways, a grand finale. If you take a sort of “journey to the center of the earth” look at what has occurred behind the scenes to make this day possible, you’ll see what I mean.  Case in point: our grand hound Iroquois Grundy ‘98 died several years ago, but he had a tremendous impact on the Oct. 3 opening hunt. 

A great hunt can only become great if it has a great hound breeder behind it. Grundy is an excellent example of this. So much thought, care, and consultation go into mating hounds in order to produce the kind of hunters that can give outstanding sport. Iroquois makes its mating choices with special care, because we breeed relatively few hounds and have committed to keep them all from cradle to grave. For any hunt, Iroquois definitely included, the idea is to breed hounds that are great hunters themselves but who will also keep providing great sport through future generations. That is what Grundy, who was bred by North Cotswold huntsman Nigel Peel out of the Peterborough champion Grapefruit, has done for Iroquois: give great sport himself, then through his sons and daughters.

When breeding hounds, you pick what you want to add to the pack by looking at its breeding and considering what it will contribute once it is an experienced hound. For instance, we don’t expect anything from Paper this year, but his breeding suggests that, down the road, he should be a great cold-nosed hound that could be invaluable on bad scenting days.  

We had a lot of trouble with splits until Grundy, whom we imported from the North Cotswold in England, showed in his second season to be a non-switcher.  In other words, he always stayed on the line of the original hunted coyote.  So we, along with many other hunts, used him as a stallion hound. Thankfully, he passed that trait along to his offspring.  Ten of the hounds that hunted on opening day Oct. 3 are Grundy’s blood, and they reflected his immense contribution to our pack.  Rarely nowadays do we have splits.

With much anticipation, 40 field members and staff met at Brookfield Farm for the first cub-hunting morning.  The hounds we had out Oct. 3 were Finite, Finesse, Sassoon, Savvy, Salute, Saracen, Saba, Allie, Grindstone, Sayso, Latch, Flash, Sage, Stanway, Griffin, Stam, and Glog. Like the first day of school, there was nervous excitement in the air. It was a bright sunny morning with a temperature of about 45 degrees.  There had been a full moon and clear skies the night before.  I had woken up several times in the night supposing that all nocturnal animals would be busy hunting, and by morning would be tucked away to rest somewhere. 

We have not seen much game on houndwalks, not like in previous years. Common sense tells me they must still be out there, we just can’t see them, although only two landowners said they had seen a coyote this summer.  I opened my bedroom window to see if by chance I could hear that familiar coyote laughter, but the night was quiet.

Each season, the hunt country poses new and different challenges and limitations.  Some land gets closed off by development, some coverts get leveled for farming, and some years there is drought.  This year, there is thick vegetation from the unusually wet summer.  It’s going to be hard to see the hounds in the coverts as they draw–and even harder to see game.  At the landowners’ request, the first draw of the morning on Oct. 3 would be a large corn field in a corner bordered by two busy roads.  Consequently, we carefully chose hounds for the day who were experienced in the dangers of traffic. They also were ones  the hunt staff could stop if they ran something that would cross those roads, leading them into danger.  As always, the hunt staff and Masters’ primary concerns are respect for the landowners and the safety of the hounds and field members.

The first draw

The first draw was about a mile from where the hounds were unboxed, which was ideal for loosening them up and settling them down.  It is so funny to see how different they are on a hunt day than on houndwalk!  For instance, Finite and Finesse have been so ho-hum on houndwalk, expending the least amount of energy necessary and spending time at cow pies and trails of muck left by manure spreaders, smelling and smelling until they were forced by hunt staff  to catch up. They are sisters and do everything together to such an extent that we’ve long called them “two bodies, one brain.”

Sometimes on houndwalk, hounds will drift ahead of me, and, just to school them, I’ll call them back.  But Finite and Finesse will not volunteer to come back. Instead, they’ll stand still as though they don’t want to cross the same ground twice.  They know I’m going to walk forward to where they are, so why come back? Geeeeeeeeez.  But not on opening hunt day!  Once I blew the horn and left meet, there were the girls out front, tails wagging, purposefully moving forward, on a mission and focused.  I had to use my voice to steady them, and they responded without looking back at me – obedient but lost in concentration. The girls were switched on!

"Two bodies, one brain": Finesse and Finite are two sisters by Grundy. They did him proud at the Oct. 3 opening meet!

We held the hounds up as the field of 30-plus riders moved around the sides of the corn bordered by roads.  The hounds respected the hunt staff and impatiently waited as all the riders got in place.  I can’t tell you how proud we all were of them–all the summer training pays off.  It is little things like this, being able to hold the hounds up until all is ready for them to go in a covert, that are such great rewards.  Then being able to take them towards it, but requiring them to go in exactly where the huntsman wants instead of just rushing forward.  Those subtleties that put such polish on a pack also reflect great whips.  It makes you very proud, but you also smile as you remember all the mistakes hounds have made along the way and how much guidance and training they needed to reach this pinnacle.

Hounds spilled into the corn, drawing well considering there was no way to ride through the corn, and so I had to just stay outside.  They spoke some, a good start.  We left there and drew more coverts to the south: Davenport’s, Wee Young’s, Raymond’s Scrub.  It was pleasing to see such beautiful houndwork; they were very thorough in underbrush so thick you could only hear them moving through and only occasionally see the tips of their wagging tails. But I was getting anxious to find game.

A Lesson–and a View–at Little Kansas

Next we hacked to two smaller corn fields in Little Kansas.  The first was very long, but only about 15 rows wide.  I wanted to draw west to east. Hounds went in, and halfway down the field, most spilled out, moving towards the bigger corn to the north.  Early in the season, you really want hounds to stay in the covert they are drawing unless they find game or are called out by the huntsman.  If half the hounds are in one covert and half have drifted to the next, and then suddenly one group fires off after a coyote, the rest will be left behind.  That’s  especially detrimental to the puppies.  So I called to the hounds that had left the covert, turned my horse towards the little corn, and lieued them back in.  It was risky to try to do without a whip there to reinforce my command, but the intensive summer training stood hounds in good stead again. 

It occurred to me they might have been winding something in the bigger corn, but cub-hunting is as much about hound training as hunting, and I want the hounds to be disciplined in coverts. As soon as they got into the bigger corn, they erupted in full cry.  Fieldmembers were spread out on the west end as a way to discourage game from going across that fenceline out of the hunt country.  Round and round the hounds went.  A whip tally-hoed a coyote out of the corn south.  But hounds did not follow, indicating to me there were multiple coyotes in there, and the one the whip saw just got flushed out.

One of the hardest things about hunting coyotes is the fact that they often travel in groups, so if you find one you actually might have found four or five together.  Most of the time, they will each run a different direction, seemingly to deliberately split the pack of hounds.  It is a real muddle if three couple of hounds are running east another five couple running south, and the rest running north all after coyotes. This happened a lot in the early 1990s when coyotes first established themselves in our hunt country.  The correct way to handle that scenario is that the huntsman must choose which hounds to follow, blow the horn and hark hounds out of the covert. Any hounds following another coyote are a split: the whips must stop them and send them on to the huntsman with the main pack.  This is very difficult to do, as a whip only has a few seconds to stop hounds and divert their attention back to the horn.   Once hounds have gotten half a field away on a coyote, it’s almost impossible to turn them back, and by then the huntsman and sound of the horn is long gone.

Grundy died several years ago but is memorialized by this life-sized bronze at Miller Trust. It shows him doing what he was made to do: chase coyote without switching!

Hounds were still full cry in the corn, and another coyote was viewed going south out of the covert. A few minutes later, a third very small coyote came barreling out the east end, followed closely by “two bodies one brain”–Finite and Finesse–with the rest of the pack in hot pursuit. 

I said under my breath, “Thank you, Grundy!”  The coyote slipped through a wire fence too tightly woven for the hounds to penetrate.  I galloped forward and opened two gates to let hounds through, they cast themselves east to no avail, then returned  to the fenceline where they last smelled the quarry, as they often do when they make a lose. 

Grundy’s Bloodlines Win the Day

I cast them into the bean field that was on the other side of the fence.  Finite erupted again, running hard north. Hounds honored her, and the little coyote was viewed again.  It ran through another tight fenceline and turned west, only to be turned back into the beans by fieldmembers going in early.    Hounds were delayed getting through the fence and made a lose.  The Masters had seen the coyote get turned and go back into the beans.  But it’s amazing how coyotes seem to just vanish when they lie down and hide!  The beans were not that tall, but he had disappeared into thin air.

I took the hounds and began making a half moon cast in the field.  Long minutes went by, hounds were tying but could only find a very angry skunk! I noticed Finite, Finesse, and Grindstone trotting off to the north end of the field, though most of the hounds were in the center.  The hounds spoke, and tally ho! The coyote was viewed going east out of the north end of the beans.  He  ran several fields through cattle, and the hounds eventually lost the scent.  It was getting hot so we called it a day.  And what a day to begin with!

Grundy would have been proud of his pups, and his spirit shone in them through their honesty as a pack.

One other note of honor: the award for Last Field Member Out. This one goes to Cheri Clark, who graciously led Master Jerry Miller’s horse back to the meet, as he prefers to dismount wherever hounds are loaded–and it was a long hack back to the meet!

– Lilla Mason

While I was in Austin I was fortunate enough that both Rosi and Ingrid’s tour came through to visit me. Ha. I can put it that way if I want to. I wouldn’t throw a tantrum if someone invited me on a bus tour. I’d smile and gladly accept. But anyway I was happy to see Rosi play two house concerts right at the start of our New Year. She was lovely and Jake is coming more and more out of his shell. I love his voice and I love the tunes of his I’ve heard. Go Jake the Snake! 

The night Ingrid came was just prior and after Yom Kippur. I spent the day prior with Greg looking for a tattoo shop to no avail but it was a nice walk and chat. Ingrid was a welcome brilliant sassy set and I had a great time. I met their merch girl Lauren who has a more northern melodic accent than Greg. What a fine bunch. It’s good that it’s called the Everybody tour because literally Everybody on that tour is Adorable. I adore them. And Vagforce minus Beth skipped out to Magnolia’s. After which I skipped happily home. Splendid last night in Austin.

Representing the Bmore Hardings

Greetings from Baltimore!

We are just enjoying the beautiful fall weather and trying not to think about the dreaded gray winter which also means the busy season for Cody.  Halloween isn’t one of my favorite holidays but I have tried to get into the spirit this year.  We had a great time picking out a pumpkin, carving it, eating candy and dressing up.  Well, Cody and I eat and Allie dressed up as a ladybug for our ward party.  We’re planning on going to Jenny’s for actual Trick or Treating…

We’re excited for this blog to keep in touch with everyone.  Way to go Blog Man (Mike) — we will try to keep you updated with our lives (however boring they may be).  We hope everyone is doing well.  Congratulations to Devyn on her upcoming baptism!

P.S. Mike how about a tutorial on adding pictures to the blog posts?  I have no idea… we are Blogger folks.  Thanks!