Holy shit, the mountains in fall are gorgeous.  I think they're only going to get prettier as the leaves continue to change.
Hubs and I have been celebrating the year of music.  Earlier this year, we saw Coldplay and then Dave Matthews Band.  This past weekend Two weeks ago, we drove up to Tennessee and saw Adele.  We were one of the lucky ones.

That Thursday night after work, we drove up to Athens.  I'd checked our favorite restaurant to see what time they closed (2 am), but when we got there, a fine-print sign on the door said that the kitchen closed at 11 pm.  We were about ten minutes late.  We headed to a calzone place (wut?) and got calzones to eat in the hotel room with the last bits of my birthday cake.

We got up early the next morning and went back to Mama's Boy for breakfast.  Following that, we drove almost three hours to the Cherokee National Forest and played in the Ocoee River.








Lunch was Mexican (surprise!) after which we continued the drive to Nashville.  We checked in our fancy little hotel and napped for a couple hours before heading to the Pharmacy Burger.  Yum.  Yum.  Yum.

Veggie burger - delish.

I wish I showed enough to warrant something like this.

After the tack store, we hung around Franklin for a little bit.  We hit up a wine store and had the owner select a Tennessee wine for us before perusing the local grocery store for local craft beer.  After that, it was time for lunch!  Mexican.  Surprise!  (This is also when we got the call about scheduling a home visit for Birgette and actually named her, sight unseen.)

We got a Lyft from our hotel to our next venue, the Tennessee Beer and Wine Festival.  It was $35 and a bajillion samples and a little sampler glass.  Also, food and good music.

Pretzel necklaces.

That much alcohol required a nap after we Lyfted back to the hotel and before Hillary picked us up for dinner.  Hillary took us to a Nashville staple that had one of the best pasta dishes I've ever had - the plate of which I could have licked clean.  After dinner, she dropped us off downtown so we could get to the amphitheater at which Adele was singing.

Adele started a few minutes after eight and everything you've ever heard about her is true.  Her voice live is as good as her voice recorded.  She chats nonstop.  She calls people up from the audience.  She is sarcastic and charming and I would love to spend a day listening to her talk.  I have incredible respect for the woman.

By the end of the show, I had a pounding headache and we wandered briefly down the main strip before getting a ride back to the hotel.

Local spot from home!

Annie was cooled off and turned out and then we snuck into the baby's pasture for some impromptu photos.  She's absolutely adorable!

I love this for both of their expressions:  oh dear god.

I'm in the process of buying Christmas gifts, which is astounding because I'm never this fucking on top of things, but it also has me just generally thinking about stuff for Archie and Ox.

For Archie, I'm really thinking about a Perri's padded leather halter, in black and turquoise with nickel hardware.  I want this to be his last halter (which is horrifying to think about), so I want to spend the money and get something that's going to stand up to the outdoors and regular use for the next decade (fingers crossed).  I'm interested in your opinions and recommendations on this!

Jeffer's Pet

And even though I just bought Granpa a fancy European bridle a year ago, I'm thinking he needs some bitless, I'm-fucking-retired-forget-contact options in his life.  So I've been looking at these things:

Inexpensive sidepull.

Zilco flower hackamore.

I don't know, I just like it.

Since Ox is only half my horse, and already using my rope halter, I'm thinking about a saddle pad for the big guy.  Maybe embroidered Canadian Trekhner, since that's his "breed"?  In a completely different direction, I also thought about getting his DNA tested to see what the actual fuck he is, other than beefy and hairy.  I think that second option benefits all the people in his life the most.

Dogs.  Not horses.  Not humans.  But also cats, because hoarder.

The hubs is in love with German Shepherds.  I am in love with every dog, regardless of breed, but I'm particular about the method of acquisition.  I have nothing against anyone who researches a breed, finds a reputable breeder who improves upon it (brachycephalic dogs, anyone?), and supports that breeder with money.  I do have issues with pet shops, puppy mills, and backyard breeders.  And I think the first option should always be adoption - private adoption, rescue adoption, don't care.

So about six months ago, we started casually looking for a canicorn.  A GSD that would be good with cats and the best bitches, have relatively clean hips and elbows, and, in theory, be young/healthy enough to go to the barn with me.  I checked every GSD that came through our local humane society.  I contacted rescues.  I branched into Belgian Malinois, because I like them and convinced D that they were suitable (every K9 cop you speak with will tell you otherwise).  I checked Craig's List and actually had a meet-and-greet scheduled before they cancelled.

At this point, I started looking at breeders, too.

And then I finally found her.



I immediately filled out the application and received confirmation that they had gotten it.  Then we had a hurricane.  And I waited.  And waited.  Roughly two weeks after I applied and a week after the hurricane, I emailed and asked for a status update.  Two days later, I got a call back and we scheduled a home visit.

"Mom, I loves her."

Now that it's official! #birgettethegsd #gsd #rescue

A video posted by bekaburke (@bekaburke) on Oct 19, 2016 at 4:43pm PDT

This was my first time working with a grassroots rescue and I was really surprised at the involvement of the foster.  When D and I fostered the litter of kittens, we returned them to the humane society and they handled the adoption.  But, here, the foster was the one to call me.  The foster made all the arrangements, inspected my yard, answered my questions, arranged the adoption.  And cried when handing the leash over.

The complication to this was that D never got to meet her prior to my adopting her.  He saw video.  He heard my accounts.  And he trusted me.  The fine print on her ad said that she was fearful of men, so when the time came to actually pick her up, I went alone.

And I brought home a dog that was the polar opposite of the one I had met a few days prior.  She was fearful.  Doorways made her nervous.  The backyard was frightening.  But she immediately loved D and loved food, so we've worked through everything slowly.  She's bright and silly and appreciates a good face rub.


We named her Birgette (beer-get), which is German for Bridget, and has an extra "te" for my original old lady, Scarlette.  She has absolutely blossomed in the past week.  She's got a couple health problems that we're getting checked out today and we're not a hundred percent sure about her age (5-7, is the guess), but even if she doesn't have every quality that we wanted, she's perfect.  She's absolutely perfect.

A video posted by bekaburke (@bekaburke) on Oct 22, 2016 at 7:43pm PDT

Hi.  This is me, kinda sorta trying to catch up to real time.  So much to write about.

After the hurricane, I took that Wednesday, 10/12 off.  Because I never work on my birthday.  I got up kinda early and treated myself to breakfast before heading out to the barn.


I'd arranged in advance to meet my trail buddies and trailer out to the hunt club for a ride.  It was trail buddy, beginner rider, and trail buddy's friend.  As always, the boys loaded like champs and we hauled to a different section that we thought might be a little less wet from the hurricane.

My husband and I have lived on the coast for six years.  This was our first legitimate hurricane.  Hermine doesn't count, since she knocked back to a tropical storm by the time she got here.

Awesome premonition.