There is always that one person at the family reunion who starts a fight. They talk politics or bring up a painful memory or storm out in the middle of dinner and ruins everyone's appetite. (Okay, "always" is a strong word. Go with it.) At this reunion today, that a-hole was Saoirse. Holy cow, did she push a lot of buttons...
Once all of our solar panels were installed, we had to decide what to do with the rest of the equipment. The Mr will take a few to his cabin, and he is thinking of experimenting to see whether he can power the fishpond pump with a few in the yard here. The rest needed to vacate our garage. We loaded up the old farm truck and headed southwest towards the alpaca ranch where Saoirse was born. The Unicorns there are working hard to be self-sufficient and sustainable, and they had a need for more power generating capacity. We brought them everything we had left: panels, mounting channels, conduits, whatever. Anything they can't use, they can recycle, hopefully for money.
We left early this morning. We hadn't even cleared town before the Mr had to slam on his brakes, propelling Saoirse into the back of my head. We were both a little rattled. Little did we know, that would be a theme of the day. We were in a bit of a snow squall, in the rough section of I-25 between Castle Rock and Colorado Springs that is all torn up for road construction. All of a sudden, both lanes ground to a halt. We barely stopped short of a red Jeep in front of us. The Mini Cooper behind us was not able to say the same. She slammed into us, and had just enough force to push us into a love tap on the Jeep. We three vehicles pulled over and surveyed the damage. (I stayed in the truck with Saoirse.) The Jeep had a scuff on the bumper, and maybe a crack in the Styrofoam that forms it. The truck rear bumper had a noticeable twist to it. The Mini was crunched, but fortunately drivable. We exchanged insurance info, and he called USAA to get our claim started as we followed the Mini to the Springs, to make sure she could get there okay. We then pressed on to the ranch. By the time we were heading back home, the soft tissue soreness was settling in. We both are exhausted and hurting, but not injured more than that. I can only guess how Saoirse feels.
There was too much snow to really show off the ranch to the Mr. You couldn't see the mountain range that makes up their epic view. The dogs were being too obnoxious to wander through to see the alpacas. I could hear a few of the baby lambs in the barn, but I was staying outside of the fence to keep a certain puppy from getting into an actual toothy fight with her siblings.
When we arrived, all the remaining dogs were in the yard. Mama Naga and sister Seven were the most barky and aggressive, so they took them inside. The boys barked, but they were mostly just interested in this familiar looking stranger. Saoirse, on the other hand, was a jerk. Every time Lore (the biggest, most Pyrenees of the remaining puppies) tried to put his paws on the fence, Saoirse gave him an earful. I tried to get pictures, but with all the snow, my Transitions glasses turned the darkest shade they can achieve, and I had to just guess at what I was pointing the camera at. If you account for the fact that Saoirse and I were slightly downhill of the boys, you can still tell she is significantly smaller than her brothers and father. Papa Appa and brother Geordie look like her (but bigger), and Data and Lore are white like their mother, and huge like her. The only other dainty one was Seven, who was technically the runt. I just wish my puppy didn't talk so much smack with her doggie family. I was frankly embarrassed.
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