When talking offline on here last week with the "tour guide", I told him that I had never been to Colorado or New Orleans and he has never been to El Paso. Before I go on......"tour guide?" I know what Mark is thinking, but discretion isn't necessary. The people on this site knows by now what is going on here. I am sure Mark's inbox was as full as mine this morning.

I left with a better experience from Friday night's dinner than "bottled water." An excellent filet mignon, lobster and this strange appetizer called "Rocky Mountain Oysters." I did not know what these were until after I ate them. They are actually "bull testicles." I know it sounds disgusting, but they taste like breaded venison heart.

The two best meals I had this weekend were both days of breakfast I had. Saturday morning, Mark made me a homemade breakfast of pan fried rainbow trout, eggs benedict and spicy creamy grits. I will never doubt that Mark wasn't a chef at one time. Sunday's breakfast I will tell you about later.

We did do a lot of driving throughout the state. We visited Aspen, which by the way, still has snow on the ground. Most people I know like to go away to somewhere tropical. But I think its a true luxury to see snow and even the cold. If you don't expose yourself to the winterlike weather, you forget how to enjoy the respite of the Texas desert. Climatic variation spices up your life and energizes your soul.

We visited an old mining town called Leadville and then headed back towards Denver where I got to visit my first synagogue service. This was different than the church services that I go to. What we call sermons, they call "dvars." The rabbi preaches his message and then the congregants can actually raise their hand and ask questions after the dvar - actually challenging the rabbi.

My best experience came Sunday morning. We both decided that I should visit a synagogue and Mark should visit a church. He said he had a very special place picked out and that I would enjoy it. I think Mark hit the jackpot.

We drove down to Monument to a place called the Flying W Ranch. This place is mainly a working dude ranch, but it also has a church on the property and during the summertime it is used as a summer camp. They had a Mother's Day Meeting at this place. This was the one time I actually broke down and cried because I wish I could have shared this with my mom.

They had an outside Western style breakfast buffet that was cooked or barbecued outside underneath a very blue sky that day. There were mountains of pancakes, piles of "ranch eggs" (scrambled eggs with cheese and ham inside), a lot of "sausage pie" (sausage, egg, cheese and green onion covered in a Bisquick like shell), too much "Flying W" breakfast casserole - eggs, sausage, green onion, mustard and worcestershire sauce.) Plus a lot of homemade apple dumplings. I have lost the calorie count by now.

Afterwards, they had a Mother's Day Service at the church on their property. The musical entertainment was defintely not my taste in music - old western music that was designed for a much older crowd but it fit the atmosphere of this Christian dude ranch.

This ranch has a website - http://www.coloradowranglers.com/. There aren't many pictures on there, but it gives a small sampling of the place.

The ranch has actual cattle drives and free horseback riding on the many acres of this ranch. You can see the blue majestic mountains to the west or the rising red rocks to the east. I think I have done enough horseback riding to last me for the rest of the year. They have a lot of roaming livestock that are used to seeing visitors. I think Mark picked this place because a lot of lambs are wandering around. Lambs are my favorite critters.

This is my first trip to Colorado and I saw something that Mark thought was ordinary. There was this large field of columbine flowers and in the middle were two fawns grazing. Mark said that this simple thing was a highlight moment because he said he loved my wide-eyed expression. I had never seen anything like before.

Maybe someday, I can show Mark some of the wonderful places near El Paso. Nothing would make me happier than to see his wide-eyed expression.

I am writing this blog ahead of time because I probably won't be on here for a few days. Because, May 11th is Mother's Day and I when I talked to mom today she told me that I needed to follow my heart even if it means being broken. I will be on a plane to Colorado next weekend. The picture above was taken in 2001 by my mom. That larger goat was named Snugglebunny and the kids (male baby lambs for you city folks) were named Mikey and Marcus after our family DVM and his brother. I always loved this pic because it made me smile. My mom felt a twinge of guilt because when she took this pic she thought she should have helped Snugglebunny out. But you never know what you are going to find during lambing season.

Sometimes it is something wonderful and sometimes it's just the opposite. And sometimes it's both. The morning of the bucket photo it was both. Rosebud was standing in the small fenced area attached to the barn, busily cleaning up a set of newborn twin kids. Snugglebunny was laying in the hay a few feet away with a lamb sticking halfway out of her--and it was the wrong half sticking out. The lamb was dead. It was also stuck. I carefully pulled the lamb the rest of the way out, and made sure Snugglebunny was alright. Thankfully she was.

Next I turned my attention to the new twins. They had become tired of being licked clean by Rosebud and were getting antsy. They wanted breakfast. Rosebud wanted to clean them up some more. A little commotion ensued as the three of them scrambled around and around and around. The bigger lamb succeeded in getting a drink, but the smaller one didn't. To make sure she had enough energy to keep trying to eat, I gave her a small starter bottle of milk. It's amazing how much of a difference a couple of sips of milk can make to a struggling newborn lamb.

Meanwhile Snugglebunny, who would have to be penned up in the barn so she could be milked and dried out, was searching for the baby she knew she'd just had. And as I stood there watching the four of them, I realized that I could take this situation and use it to my advantage.

When Snugglebunny called out to her lamb, I plunked the smaller twin down in front of her and said, "Here she is Snugglebunny. Here's your baby right here."

There are all sorts of ways the sheep books and sheep experts tell you that you can "graft" a lamb, usually an orphan, onto another mother, usually one who has just lost her lamb. Methods include everything from a complicated way of tying up the ewe in a pen so that she can't reach her head back and butt the lamb away from the milk bar, to using special sprays that mask the "wrong" scent of the new baby. A friend who raises sheep told me that when she was growing up, sometimes they would put Vick's Vapor Rub on the nose of the ewe and the tail of the lamb. The old way of doing it was to take the skin from the dead lamb and place it over the orphan lamb like a little coat.

The longer I lived in a rural area in my late teen years, the more I came to realize that what may often be perceived by some as the "lazy way" is actually the "now you're finally getting it!" way. The secret is to stop fighting Mother Nature because you are never going to win. When you find yourself at dusk, racing around a field and screaming madly at the sheep to GET IN THE @#$%! BARN while they munch away, calmly ignoring you, it's time to step back from the situation. Wait 10 or 15 minutes, and chances are the sheep, who know that dangerous predators come out at night and that the only truly safe place to sleep is in the barn, will eventually tuck themselves in. Call me lazy, but at least I've saved some of my sanity--and my voice.

I skipped the rope, the spray, and the Vick's Vapor Rub and simply crowded all four of them into a bonding suite. Then I stood back and left them alone.

I didn't have high hopes, but I also had nothing to lose. I wasn't dealing with an orphan lamb, just an eager mother and a mom with a spare baby she might be willing to give up. I figured the worst that would happen would be that Snugglebunny wouldn't be interested, or Rosebud wouldn't part with one of her twins, and I'd have to move Snugglebunny into a separate pen to dry out as originally planned.

It took a couple of days. At first the twins were confused. They would each try to nurse from both mothers, but the smaller lamb didn't seem to be getting much milk. I fed her Snugglebunny's milk from a bottle, while Snugglebunny murmured secret mommy talk in her ear, because she had no doubt at all that lamb was hers. And as Snugglebunny became more and more protective of her baby, Rosebud gently pushed that baby away.

Does Snugglebunny know what really happened that morning? Does Marcus remember? And what about Rosebud? I'll never know for sure. But it doesn't matter.....What matters is that this happy, healthy lamb has a wonderful mother who loves her very, very much. End of story.

Happy Mother's day to all of the mothers on this site! :)