The Crone of Cottonmouth County

Author's details

Date registered: September 6, 2012

Latest posts

  1. Retirement, Day 4: Crone visits hay barn with camera — October 16, 2015
  2. Lady of leisure — October 14, 2015
  3. Cattle bum me out — May 9, 2014
  4. Infestation du jour — April 18, 2014
  5. Pus-colored entities — April 17, 2014

Most commented posts

  1. Spinster aunt morphs into crone — 57 comments
  2. Blogging all my nowhere posts to nobody — 51 comments
  3. Crone holds forth on the horrors of re-riderdom — 38 comments
  4. Crone predicts own existential funk — 35 comments
  5. Crone flummoxed by feral cat — 31 comments

Author's posts listings

Feb 20

Nary a drop to drink

Shall I speak to you of rainwater collection? Hear ye my sorrowful lament. The story begins in 2005 at the offices of Jagoff & Pretentsio, my architects. The bunkhouse was still on the drawing board, glowing with the promise of my future contentment. We all gathered around the drawings, sipping lattes.* “You’re gonna love your …

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Feb 15

Hay there

We were down to about 20 bales and I was starting to get nervous. An empty hay barn is a dispiriting spectacle. No crone can rest easy in a hay vacuum. Two years ago, as a result of the worst drought since the dawn of time, you couldn’t get a flake of hay in Cottonmouth …

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Feb 12

Manure, hair dye, and more beetles

Carried off on a wave of enthusiasm for beetles, yesterday I posted these photos in the comments. Considering their sheer gaudiness, the notion of promoting these handsome bugs to the front page suggested itself. This is a rainbow scarab, notable not only for its ginormous prong and iridescent awesomeness, but for its taste for horse …

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Feb 11

Fig. 17. Unexpected longhorned beetle, 1.5″ excluding antennae

When you live in the country it’s more or less a foregone conclusion that on a daily basis you’ll be forced to look at things that bum you out. For example, it’s a pretty painful tableau when you’re about to slice onions and you reach for the trusty mandoline, but suddenly, blamm! A big-ass beetle …

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Feb 09

Gross crap oozes out of horse, again

It’s a fact: horses with chronic ventral midline edema are endlessly fascinating. You can bet that a few days ago when my mare Ginger Rogers suffered another relapse after a two-month dry spell I could pretty much see “Internet Sensation!” written all over her crusty, serum-oozing umbilical carbuncles. It was the work of a moment …

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Feb 05

Crone predicts own existential funk

So much has transpired since last I remembered that I had a blog, it’s ridiculous. But don’t worry. I won’t bore you with any of it. Suffice it to say that it was all dreadful. However, I can’t resist posting a couple of pictures. Observe the new Dreadful Acres barn, approaching (but never attaining) a …

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Dec 11

Blogging all my nowhere posts to nobody

Homespun text banter with the president of my ISP

My brain used to be a Size 10, but all that carrying-on in the 80s and 90s shriveled it down to about a Size 2. Thus it’s not uncommon for me to come down with blogular amnesia. By which I mean, I just completely forget I have a blog. Sometimes for days on end. I …

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Dec 08

Crone clenches fists, hollers “noooooo!”

With my love's picture then my eye doth feast.

There are many aspects of country life that remind me of a poke in the eye with a sharp stick. And then there are those that flat-out shoot an electric current of unmitigated terror straight into my amygdala. Water is one of those. Damn you, water! There either isn’t any because of the drought, or …

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Dec 06

Deep thoughts

When pondering the episode of the dead turkey vulture in the driveway, it is difficult to avoid the central question: why aren’t there dead turkey vultures galore all over the place? I ask because the atmosphere above Dreadful Acres is pretty thick with these birds. Most days you can’t even see the sky for all …

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Dec 06

Crone posts heartwarming dog photo in lieu of essay

Last night it was 62 F outside so we had to have a fire or we would die. What’s that smell? The dog roasting. You literally have to pry my yella lab Franny away from a fire. She thinks she’s a suckling pig. Incidentally, if you ever find yourself in need a dog with a …

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