That dog don’t hunt, and them chickens don’t lay eggs.

Texas and Southern US saying, “That dog don’t hunt.” Meaning: This idea or excuse won’t work, this thing doesn’t work correctly. The expression originated in the American South, where dogs are commonly used to hunt. Also put as “that old dog won’t hunt.” It originated in the late 1800s. – according to The Web.

Evolution kills... note the chicken.

Evolution kills… note the chicken at the end.

Tales From the RV Park: The chickens that don’t lay eggs

A neighbor with a stick-and-brick (that’s full-time RVer lingo for “house”) went on vacation. He asked me to take care of his chickens and barn kitties. (“Barn kitty” or “barn cat” is country lingo for cats that live outside your country house to help keep down the rodent and snake populations. They’re fed some kibbles, but generally not treated like a revered pet. Sometimes they’re socialized, but not usually allowed inside the main house.) 

Actually, my neighbor didn’t care so much about the barn kitties (welcome to the south), but he did care about the chickens (again, welcome to the south). The chickens that don’t lay eggs.

Do we LOOK like we lay eggs? Nope, we don't.

“Do we LOOK like we lay eggs? Yeah, we fooled the guy who bought us, too.”

There are eight hens and one rooster. Eight of them are physically capable of laying eggs. Five of the hens are old enough – over seven months – but they don’t lay eggs. There’s got to be something wrong with them.

I told my neighbor we ought to Continue reading

Lessons From Zen Master Pye – Feeding the Cat

On the third anniversary of the date Pye graced my doorstep with her presence, I think it no small coincidence the Pope graced the U.S. with his presence. I watched the ceremonies with rapt attention. I’m not Catholic, but I do greatly respect Pope Francis and appreciate what he’s doing for the Catholic church and Christianity as a whole. 

In honor of these two great events, the third anniversary of Life with Pye and Pope Francis’ visit to the U.S., I present another guest post from Zen Master Pye: Feeding the Cat. For those of you wondering, per Zen Master Pye’s insistence I have converted most of her LOLspeak to English for the ease of learning the lessons. 

Pye fishing for a minnow.

Pye fishing for a minnow. (Don’t worry – the minnow was never in any real danger.)

Lesson Two – Feeding the Cat

Oh Hai! This iz Zen Master Pye, your teacher in teh wayz of the Zen from da kittehs point of view. Today we will learn about feeding da cat Zen Master and the importance of doing so in a timely manner.

If the kitteh wakes you before the sun rises, this means it is time to feed the kitteh. Continue reading

Bug Killer Rating reaches all-time low

Bugzilla’s relative, made an appearance a few weeks ago, but quickly darted to safety behind a drawer. I’ve been cautiously opening drawers ever since. Until today.

Bug Killer Rating (BKR) reaches a new low.

Bug Killer Rating (BKR) definition: The BKR is assessed on a scale of 1 to 10, similarly to the PSR (Primitive Survival Rating) from Naked and Afraid. (Do I actually watch that cheezy show? I don’t know. Maybe. Sometimes. I’m not saying any more. Stop asking me questions.)

A dead cockroach - as it should be.

A dead cockroach – as it should be.

American Cockroach 1” by Preiselbeere on de.wikipediaOwn work. Licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0 de via Commons

A few years ago, after she chattered to Bugzilla as if inviting it to play, I thought Checkers was of little help when it came to bug killing. She was given a BKR of 1.5 because, after about ten years of training, she would occasionally chase, slowly torture, and then eat a very small bug. But mostly she’d just pester them until they died.

However, I have reassessed her BKR, essentially doubling it, from a 1.5 to a 3. Why was Checker’s BKR raised when she’s not even here anymore? Because Pye lowered the bar… Continue reading

Nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs, and Cibolo in Boerne


Probably not a place in the Texas panhandle.

Hi, remember me? I’m that gal who used to blog here. Yeah, yeah, so I’m flaky when feeling overwhelmed. But I make up for it with my vivacious personality. Heh.

Another leap of faith was in my near future, and this time I was afraid to jump. Yes, I gave up my stick-and-brick (read “apartment in-between the city and the suburbs”) – before getting my RV – and that leap of faith felt more comfortable than this one. I was super excited about it, but I was also nervous about temporarily relocating to the panhandle from the start – something about it never felt right. My friends and fellow workcampers knew all the details and none of them thought it was a good idea, either. But I really wanted this to work – it would mean I could travel all the time!

It was for that commission-only sales job for which I’d get to travel all the time. This is the same job I already tried it out in two neighboring towns… the one that didn’t sell (100% commission = no pay if there are no sales), but I got to meet some of the rudest people in Texas. Oh joy.

This time the owner was willing to pay for me to go up there and provide $200/wk as a base for the first two weeks. After my last experience of working for a week and a half without making one sale, I decided it was too risky to try it again that far away from civilization. I already burned up resources when I tried it the first time and couldn’t risk it happening again.

The funny thing is I was all set to go, but was nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs Continue reading

The Life of Pye: Lessons From the Zen Master – Gratitude

The is a guest post from the cat Pye Zen Master Pye. Pye seemed in need of a hobby. She’s been going out late, staying out all night, coming home smelling like bonfire smoke and bad boy kitties. (Last part iz not true, they iz not bad kitties. -ZMP)

The opinions expressed by the cat Pye Zen Master Pye are not necessarily those of this blog. The strikethrough text was not there when I agreed to let Pye write this post.

Zen Master Pye demonstrating the Art of Zen.

Zen Master Pye demonstrating the Art of Zen.

Oh hai! This is Pye, the cat who will not read maps. You may call me Zen Master Pye. My hooman thinks I cannot read maps. Silly hooman is wrong. Again. I can read maps, I merely choose not to. It is not the way of Zen to read maps for hoomans.

How is it that I am Zen Master, you ask? Continue reading

More old stuff, now in historic Goliad, Texas

I’m totally phoning this one in. It wasn’t my most exciting sightseeing trip, but I was out of stuff to see in that area. Don’t get me wrong, it was nice historic old stuff, but it’s always been hard for me to get excited about historic old stuff – unless it’s really, really old. Like Pyramids in Egypt old.

A brief update after last week’s rant: I’ve encountered some nicer folks, most notably today. Other than that, I’m sticking close to home for a bit and only surrounding myself with positive people, meditating longer myself, and reading and listening to more metaphysical stuff – something that always makes me feel great.

Tomorrow my neighbors are taking me boating on a huge, pretty lake nearby. Apparently there are waterfalls! I will take pictures for you all. Pray they don’t look like my usual fuzzy crap. It will be about 105 degrees, so pray I also weather the heat.

Now, on with the old stuff…

Old stuff in historic Goliad, Texas: a mission, a presidio, and a monument.

I know, more old stuff. There’s not much else to see around Gonzales and Goliad, except historic old stuff.

The architecture of old mission was mesmerizing. Continue reading

Tales From the RV Park: Holy Haters Batman!

I’m not going to bother with the usual disclaimer on this one because this is a rant. It’s also not directly related to the RV park, which has a whole host of weirdness all its own, but is instead a rant about my general experience with the nearby towns. There will be cuss words.

If you are new to this blog, you should probably skip this post for a better one. Any other one. This post isn’t my best first impression. Just saying. I don’t know when I began caring about first impressions. Humh, that’s new. Carry on.

<rant on>

Say NO to haters.

Say NO to haters.

I am ready to leave Deerville, Soberville, and Touristburg. I’m over it, for a couple reasons.

I’ve been teaching a free meditation class in one of the neighboring towns. I’ve done this before. I don’t get paid for it, it’s something I like to do to better my little corner of the world. It’s also fun for me, gives me a chance to meditate with a group, and best of all to hopefully encourage people to meditate daily. I teach different approaches to meditation, ways to easily increase your practice, and share what it’s done for me.

Daily meditation has change my life in ways that were previously unimaginable to me: a sense of inner peace, mental clarity, better health, and the ability to monitor my thoughts – and to choose better ones, etc. Of course I want to share this with people, so I started teaching meditation to others. I have done this for a several years, and it has always been a fun experience.

But then some haters came. Now I don’t want to share it with them anymore. Continue reading

Hotter than a June bride in a feather bed

I could’ve just said “It’s hot,” but folks get a little tired of hearing the same phrase over and over.

God is cooking Texas. My cousin says southern Utah is for dessert.

God is cooking Texas. My cousin thinks He’s cooking southern Utah is for dessert.

The weather is a big topic in Texas. The weather channel is included in the channel lineup as if it were one of the major networks. It will come as no surprise that Texans also have colorful sayings describing the weather.

I have previously written about how “It’s raining like a cow pissin’ on a flat rock.” Then there is the title of this post, “Hotter than a June bride in a feather bed.” And another saying describing the weather in a most colorful way, one I opted not to use as a title today, “Hotter than a whore on nickle night.”

Ahem. Did I mention the sayings were colorful?

That’s your lesson for today. If you happen to be in an area where the weather is a regular topic, you now have some sayings to liven up the conversation. Or get a date. Could go either way.

I’d love to know any others you’ve heard (about the weather, not pickup lines) – I need more blog post titles. No, seriously.

A Day on Lake Wood

In homage to the heat, I present you with a lovely day on the lake. Continue reading

I went to see some old stuff

I don’t often go to see old stuff, unless of course, the weird and wacky roadside attraction I’m visiting happens to have been created a long time ago and is therefore old by default.

Not this time. This attraction’s only claim to roadside attraction fame is age. Okay, okay, some folks prefer the word “historical”. Whatever. It’s old. This particular city is rich in history, as is all of Texas. And it’s all about a cannon.

Come and Take It

Gonzales, Texas, is all about a cannon. An old cannon.

The "Come and Take It" cannon.

The “Come and Take It” cannon.

From the Gonzales,Texas, Wikipedia page: Continue reading

Workin’ harder than a funeral home fan in July

I’ve been workcamping at a nice RV park since I moved to Deerville (near Touristburg and Soberville) six weeks ago. The job was supposed to go full-time (with pay after 15 hours) starting last week, but the current camp manager isn’t leaving as planned, which means they don’t need me to work full-time. So as the title implies, I’m workin’ harder than a funeral home fan in July looking for new opportunities. While I’m looking for new opportunities, I’ve been dreaming about where I’m going next.

I’d like to go to New Mexico, slowly making my way up to Wyoming. Everyone thinks I’m crazy to want to go to Wyoming – even in the summer – but it always looks so pretty in everyone’s photos! I have a friend there now and he pretty much hates being in the middle of nowhere. I can relate: Cow-Chicken-Oil town (pop. ~7,500) was MUCH bigger than where he is (pop. ~800), and it sounds like he’s farther from civilization than Pizzaville ever was. I’m not deterred. I want to see the plains and mountains and take my usual fuzzy pictures.

Another option is to FINALLY see one of the Largest Balls of Twine and Largest Frying Pans. The nearest Largest Ball of Twine is in Kansas… as is the Largest Hair Ball. Gee, Pye ought to enjoy both of those exhibits.

Of the (six?) Largest Frying Pans, I’m most likely to hit one in either Iowa, Kentucky or Delaware. If Pye is being a brat, I may put her in one of the frying pans.

Largest Ball of Barbed Wire = Close substitute for Largest Ball of Twine.

The Largest Ball of Barbed Wire.

It’s not twine, but it is the Largest Ball of Barbed Wire, at least that I’ve seen.

While I’m dreaming and planning, I’ll share a little bit of the massive Continue reading