The Hazards of Life

First of all, I'm extremely sorry that I haven't posted for the past TWO Thursdays!! But if you must have an explanation of why life as Shelbs has been too busy for words, I'll refer you to an earlier blog post "Life Isn't Always Simple." I'm sure if you're a high school student like me, you can only imagine the kinds of insanity that has been my life recently. But here we go!

I guess I have a soft spot for red animals with white necks. (I mean I guess it could be a coincidence.) A few weeks ago, I brought home my last show pig, and after much deliberation, I decided on naming him Roscoe. He is the color of a Duroc with a white stripe like a Hampshire and black spots on his hams. I absolutely adore him, and so you'll fall in love with him, too, I've posted a picture of my little guy.

 



Today ended like any other regular day. I came home afterschool. I was spraying down the hog pen with the water hose, singing along to the radio playing in the background, and enjoying the rare early fall breeze. The pigs tugged at my boot straps, nudged my legs and ankles with their noses, and ran around in the water hose until my dad poured their feed. Suddenly I hear my dad's startled voice behind me, but can't discern what he's saying. I turn around, disturbed to find Roscoe has thrown up and is about to repeat his performance. We look around, but we can't find anything out of the ordinary, except the annoying little black beetles crawling across the wet concrete pen. If you know anything about pigs, you know they'll eat anything and everything that will fit into their mouths, so it was not out of the question that he had eaten a bug and it had upset his stomach.

As my little sister's pig scarfed down his dinner, Roscoe wandered over, sniffed the feed, and promptly returned to a corner, where he puked again. I noticed that when he moved, he stumbled and seemed off-balance, as if he was dizzy or nauseous. Instantly, I begin thinking of the worst case scenario. What if he was sick and this was just the beginning of a long battle? Any mishap that could cause him to go off his feed was not only detrimental to his health - it would set us back for the coming show season.

I may deny harboring any maternal instincts whatsoever. But the truth is, nothing stresses me out more than an animal or a child in distress. I hovered over my pig, monitoring his breathing to ensure it wasn't labored, watching him for any signs of further stress, and hoping he was finished regurgitating. As I continued my vigil, I scratched behind his ears, rubbing him to make sure he stayed calm and quiet. This went on for about twenty minutes, me watching with bated breath, my sister's pig tugging on my clothing to get my attention and grunting at Roscoe to get up and play with him. But finally, Roscoe's tail began to twitch and swish around, his ears perked up, and after a little longer, he got to his feet. With no signs of dizziness or nausea whatsoever, he strolled over to the water nozzle, took a drink, and then dug his snout into the trough for some dinner.

The day's drama was over. I kept an eye on him for awhile to make sure he kept his feed down, but there was no need. My playful, bright-eyed pig was back. This situation is now laughable as I consider my own folly. There was no real cause for concern, and in the end, everything turned out okay. This is the kind of attitude I try to adopt in my everyday life. Someone's talking behind your back? Shake it off, get it out of your system, and get on with your day. Didn't quite make the grade in a class? Freak out over it, but know that it will pass and eventually, you'll forget you ever ate the wrong beetle.

Wake up everyday with the attitude that today is a great day. Not today is GOING to be a great day. You're awake, you're alive, and for those reasons alone, today is already a GREAT day. If you're like me and you're not a morning person, say it until you believe it. Take the time to cherish the small victories along with the more noticeable ones. Today is a great day. No one can change that but you.

- Shelbs

6 Simple Rules

Happy Thursday! If you're wondering why it's taken me this long to finally put out the post, it's because coming up with interesting and relevant topics is NOT as easy or as fun as you would think it is. It's kind of like trying to write a Facebook status. You want people to like what you have to say, so you have to pick something people will actually read, something you feel is important to your personal life, and consider who will be reading it and how it will affect them. And if you think you don't do this - that you completely exercise your first amendment rights while on the internet - great, but that's not how I operate. I mean, I'm still gonna say what I have to say. There's never any doubt about that!

I promised myself I wouldn't write anything cheesy about the leadership workshop I helped out with yesterday, but admittedly, this post was inspired by that. In the workshop, we asked the kids to think about their morals and how they applied those to leadership. Today I want to share my own version of what I see as my guiding principles - half serious, half Shelbsified.

1. Honesty & integrity. These values are similar, but not the same. Honesty means telling the truth, admitting when you've made a mistake. Integrity means adhering to your values and conducting yourself accordingly.

2. Loyalty. (Why do you think I love dogs so much..?) I have a real problem with people who don't seem to grasp this concept. Simply put, it means staying true to your values, yourself, your family and friends, and especially remembering where you came from (it severely irritates me when students don't say the pledge of allegiance during the announcements at school). This is coming from the girl who doesn't eat Heinz ketchup because of the 2004 presidential election.

3. Responsibility. I am very careful to be held accountable for all my actions, whether they are negative or positive, and I always try to give credit where credit is due. (According to StrengthsFinder2.0, this is my number one strength.)

4. Respect the ice cream. This means no scoop left behind! I hate it when people put the ice cream back in the freezer with maybe two spoonfuls of ice cream left in the carton. Or when you eat straight out of the carton. Get. A. Cup. Please. In my daily life, I make it a priority to practice proper ice cream etiquette. :)

5. Always wear real pants. Primarily, I mean when I'm not working out or chilling at home. This also includes never wearing sweat pants to school - because, seriously, even if I'm feeling uncharacteristically lazy, I ALWAYS find the energy to put on a pair of jeans. And when I say jeans, I mean the kind without ridiculous rips, holes, and tears. I'm perfectly capable of creating those myself, free of charge. But thanks for offering.

6. Don't mess with the Nelson. You can laugh at my political inconsistencies, but the truth is I absolutely love Willie Nelson. If Willie comes on the radio, you don't simply change the station. This is a rule I learned from my dad. And if it means we listen to "On the Road Again" four times in one car trip, so be it!!

Whether your ethics are strictly business and address serious matters such as my first three, or you prefer to take a little creative license with your moral code, make sure you are uncompromising, yet understanding. Stand up for your beliefs in a way that is dignified instead of sanctimonious. Stick to your guns, but be aware of the lives and feelings of others. I think it's safe to say we'd all expect the same in return.

- Shelbs

Joys and Discomforts

I know this is a topic I talk about pretty much constantly. But I have yet to blog about it! And in light of recent events, I feel this is relevant and a great excuse to share my personal experiences. Besides, it's throwback Thursday!! What better way to acknowledge that than with a little good old-fashioned story time?

"...for I know the joys and discomforts of agricultural life and hold an inborn fondness for those associations which, even in hours of discouragement, I cannot deny." - E.M. Tiffany

As many of my faithful readers (assuming these exist...) will note, this is an excerpt from the FFA Creed. This statement has come to mean a lot to me over the course of my involvement in the FFA. It's about loving what you do even when it isn't easy - even when it breaks your heart. Even when you've been wearing the same high heels for 12 hours, you can't feel your toes, and if you have to tuck the tallywhacker on your jacket back in ONE MORE TIME, you're gonna rip it off. But you don't have to ask yourself why you signed up for this. You never have to ask yourself why you're here. The answer is obvious; we love what we do.

With that established, the discomforts of our lives, not only as members of the FFA, but as members of the human race, can be challenging. I can personally attest to this. This will be my third year showing pigs (not quite the tenure of some of my peers, I know, but rest assured that I have enough heart and dedication to make up for all the years I missed out). It has always been my dream to breed my own show pigs. The first year I showed pigs, I was ecstatic to work with the animals and with my dad's experience, I was confident that I would have a great year. What I didn't know was how hard it is to control an animal - every bit as stubborn as I am - with a stick. But with minimal usage of invectives and a lot of persistence, I became the alpha pig. I exercised my pigs thirty minutes a day, sometimes twice a day. Rain, shine, tornado - it didn't matter, I was out there. My pigs and I had a bond that transcended the usual "I'll name you bacon because I hate you and I know you'll end up in the freezer" attitude that kids sometimes adopt toward their projects. We were best buds.

After our chapter show, my breeder came out to evaluate my animals' progress. I'll never forget the way I felt when he told me that my pigs had a virus called PPLO that caused fluid build-up in their hocks. They were essentially crippled. I could feel the tears coming on. I tried a brave smile, but it was useless. I was heartbroken. I had aspirations of breeding my gilt. My barrow was on schedule to go to a major show. All my hard work seemed for naught - I probably wouldn't even be able to show at my county youth show. Most of all, I felt utterly helpless because the virus is notorious for being next to impossible to treat.

But instead of accepting fate, giving up on my endeavor, and pretending it never happened, I buckled down. I kept exercising my pigs to ensure they stayed limber. I switched them to a feed without a high protein content that would be easier on their joints, and attempted treatment. Failure was not an option. I remained hopeful, and told myself that I wasn't giving up on my dream, I was merely reacting to the hand I had been dealt. I would have another chance to breed. In the end, I was able to take my gilt to the county show and placed. I have never been happier to see an eighth place ribbon in my entire life. It wasn't about winning. I loved spending time with my animals, and I learned more about myself and my ability to work with them than I have in probably most of my life.

My second year of showing was a repeat performance. I had the same rotten luck, met with the same dogged determination, but it wasn't enough. I wasn't sure I would have the heart to try showing again. But I finally accomplished my dream, though not in the way I expected. As of Monday morning, there are eight piglets and one proud sow in my backyard.  The sow was my sister's show pig, and our first successful breeding endeavor. This one shining moment in my experiences raising swine has more than made up for my perceived "failures". Whether is was foolishness or faith that kept me going down a path that seemed to lead to nowhere, I'm glad I was able to remember my love for the animals, my dream, and my inimitable capacity to try for the sake of trying prevailed.

Even in my hours of discouragement, I could not have been happier to work hard at work worth doing.

- Shelbs

Dog Talk

My apologies in advance if you expect me to post any amazing recipes or song lyrics on this blog. It will never happen. For one thing, I view cooking as a last resort survival tactic and don't particularly enjoy it. Secondly, people are very picky about their music and I don't have the varied knowledge of my friend W, who is the ultimate hipster. Speaking of W (or as we scholars like to refer to him, Dubs), he also has a blog, and we're undertaking this Thursday posting thing together. Check out www.whtlander.blogspot.com today for a new post!!

Back on topic! I will tell you this: I always listen to music while I write anything, especially this blog, and even I am attempting to learn how to cook. Why? Because I will not eat ramen noodles and macaroni in college. Another thing you should know: my brain is utterly fried from perfecting college essays this week, and if this post is a tad lackluster, you can blame TAMU and TTU.

Today I want to talk about my favorite subject in the entire world: dogs. I have decided to address a few things that, quite frankly, really make me irate. DISCLAIMER: this post is based on my own observation and experience. I don't claim to be an expert, just very well-versed on this topic from a lifetime of loving dogs (and watching Cesar Milan on Dog Whisperer).

If you've read my Simple Curiosity post, you know that dogs have always been an integral part of my life. They're the truest friends, willing listeners, and the only creatures on earth that love you more than you love yourself. Agriculturally speaking, they are indispensable and unparalleled in their skill at working livestock, proving themselves man's best friend time and again.

We all love stories like Old Yeller, Where the Red Fern Grows, and Marley & Me. We expect our dogs to have that kind of undying loyalty. We expect our relationship with our dogs to be effortless and rewarding. But what some people can't seem to understand is that it does take effort. Forming that magic bond with your animal starts before you even bring him/her home. You must make an informed decision, and I cannot stress that enough. That doesn't mean you must decide on the cutest breed or a size that's convenient for your lifestyle. You have to go beyond that and consider temperment, grooming, and medical needs. The most expensive dog is not necessarily the healthiest or the best suited for you and these are all things you have to be aware of.

It frustrates me to no end when first-time dog owners or owners who are not necessarily willing or able to invest the time choose a high-energy or highly intelligent breed such as a border collie or a terrier. You can't stick these dogs in a pen in your backyard or a kennel in your apartment. These dogs will need stimulation, an outlet for their energy, and will not function or be happy without it. Throwing a tennis ball a couple of times in the backyard is not going to cut it. You might actually have to dig out a leash and collar and take a few laps around the block. And not every now and then, but several times a week if you really want to do your dog justice.

And if you want to be able to walk your dog down the street or through the park without them pulling your arm out of its socket or embarrassing you, this will also take effort. It's not magic, but you do have to be very pesistant and unwilling to settle for less than the appropriate behavior. This is especially difficult with terrier breeds, as they are headstrong and without a strong-willed, experienced handler, can be exasperating to train for all that they are incredibly smart. Laboradors are another breed that can be challenging to train, simply because they are so goofy and are essentially puppies until they're 3 or 4 years old. You wonder why they chew up your stuff? Because, though they are extremely popular and make great family dogs, they are not meant to hang out in the house all day. They're retrievers. They love to work. And even if you're not a big bird hunter, exercise and providing them with some kind of stimulation is imperative.

The last thing I want to address is the tendency to pick the purebred toy breeds such as chihuahuas, yorkshire terriers, and shih-tzus. Yeah, they're cute. Yeah, they're pretty portable. Yeah, they make great lap dogs, if you're into that. But you can't bring home the adorable pint-sized puppy, put down some newspapers, and expect the poor thing to figure it out. First of all, if you plan on keeping the dog primarily in the house, you have to curb behavior such as incessant barking, rushing the door when people come in, and jumping on the furniture uninvited. If the dog runs the house, there's something wrong. Also, be aware that if you don't appropriately discipline these dogs, they can get out of control. There's nothing more annoying or embarrassing than an ankle-biter when you have people over. And that's part of the fun of having a great, balanced, well-behaved dog - showing 'em off!

This is my best friend - Australian shepherd mix, Tuff. ♥

 

To wrap up this half-blog-post, half-vent-session, I will simply say that if you're in the market for a new best friend, the best place to start is your local animal shelter. Doesn't have to be the humane society. Your city or county animal control is also a great place to consider. Don't hit the local paper right off the bat, looking for a breeder near you. Give the mutts a chance. It's a great feeling to save a life. 


- Shelbs

My Version of "Organized"

I guess there's just something about Thursdays. During the school year, they are always my "chill nights", when I don't really have anything going and I can regroup, adjust focus, and recharge before the weekend. Unless something drastic happens to change that, I will designate Thursdays as my blogging day. I feel like there should be an awesome name for it, but let's face it, no good adjectives start with TH. Thoughtful. Thrilling. Thug. Yeah, those aren't going to work. In any case - I will do my best to put out new posts on Thursdays. That's pretty convenient for everyone - watch Jenna Marbles on Wednesday, read about the life of Shelbs on Thursday. Life is good.

Today I want to keep it short and sweet - strictly business. I want to discuss organization. As the school year approaches, we like to purchase cutesy, flowery planners, the kind with the motivational quotes printed along the top of each page, and we swear on our lives to keep up with these planners. For the first two weeks of school - maybe even into September - we'll whip those babies out during class and write down EVERYTHING, every homework assignment, every club activity, every practice. But as the year progresses, the effort of hunting for the planner, finding the correct day, and scrawling down some ambiguous note about an assignment is no longer appealing. The bloom is off the rose. The meticulous dividers in our binders - notes, quizzes, reviews, tests, essays - become little more than pieces of plastic taking up space. And instead of carefully organizing a folder for each subject, we shove the papers into our backpacks (hey, everything is in chronological order, I'll totally be able to find it later).

I'm guilty of this because I like to think I function well in "organized chaos". It does not exist. Don't let anyone tell you that's acceptable. With a little extra effort, a little daily maintenance, you can be as organized as the people who have color-coded schedules and hour-by-hour agendas. That is not acceptable either. If you spend an inordinate amount of time obsessing over organization, you're defeating the purpose. Organization is meant to help you save time and work efficiently because you can easily access important information. Don't over do it.

To illustrate an efficient, appropriate way to maintain organization, I have, in the spirit of organization, made a short list of tips.

1. Get dates as far in advance as possible and commit them to your agenda. If you are part of a club, obtain meeting dates and times. If you know you are going to a conference, save the date. If you're going to a competition, set some deadlines leading up to the event!

2. Invest in some sticky notes. Everyday tasks like picking up dry cleaning or walking the dog don't have to go in your planner. Stick em around the house where you'll see them and be amazed that you don't have to ask yourself "why did I come into this room?" anymore. (They're also great for inspiration. The cheesier the better. Ex: "YOU ARE A WINNER!" Seeing that every day = instant boost. You're welcome.)

3. If you have siblings who are also very active, get a family calendar. Put it on the fridge where everyone will see it and have each family member write their commitments in a different color. There's the household agenda at a glance!

4. Purchase one flash drive and save important documents on it. Instead of searching through files at school, home, and on your email, keep it all together. This is great for things you will use often such as your resume or a professional headshot. This is also great for ongoing projects like essays or school presentations.

These are all things I personally do that seem to keep me on track. You don't need an intricate routine to function on a daily basis. Find the balance that works best for you, make it a habit to check your cutesy, flowery planner, keep it updated, and get some work done!


Shelbs

Life Isn't Always Simple

All right, I've been introductory, I've tried motivational, now I want to get a little personal to give anyone who may keep up me an idea of what it's like to be Shelbs. It always makes me laugh when people put "it's complicated" as their relationship status on Facebook. As if they expected any meaningful endeavor to be easy... It occured to me today that naming my blog "Simply Shelbs" is incredibly ironic. Because, to be honest (ha, more facebook cliches!!), my whole life is "complicated". I doubt I'm the only one who feels this way. Life in general, the ENTIRE natural world, tends toward chaos and chaos does have a habit of complicating things. And when I say "complicated", I'm not talking your typical mindless teenage drama. I don't mean to be sanctimonious, but I have absolutely no time for that. For one, senior year in itself is going to be tricky. To give you an idea, I'm writing this post as an excuse to get away from college essays I've already put off for a week - which is a little uncharacteristic, because procrastination is not in my vocabulary.
I'd like to illustrate this with a little STORY TIME!! I just returned from spending the past couple of days at the beach with my mom, little sister, and her best friend. As we're driving home, although three of us have iPhones, fully equipped with GPS and Google Maps, mom realizes she has noooo idea where we're going. Through Rockport? Up to Sinton? Who knows? Why we didn't address this sooner, the world may never know. So we pull out the map - the prehistoric kind that's flat and printed on paper - and after a few minutes of staring at the spiderweb of colored lines and numbers, we locate the correct route and hit the road again. Some miles later, the car starts to STINK like nobody's business. There were some suggestions thrown out there as to what exactly could be causing the stench - excrement, compost... Whatever it was, it was awful. Amid the panic about the smell, we missed a turn and ended up passing a prison where we could see the inmates playing basketball outside, which launched a whole discussion about THAT. When we finally stopped to eat at a Dairy Queen, we discovered it was a piece of driftwood my older sister had insisted on bringing home. She wasn't even in the car!! She came down to the beach for a few days - just long enough to find the stupid stick - and then instructed us to bring it home so she could stain it and use it as a wall hanging. ...I have nothing good to say about that. It was a dumb idea. Not sure why we listened to her. I was all for leaving the stick behind. But for some reason, somebody put the stick in the car. And not in the back of the car...it was basically in the backseat. Where we could all smell it. The. Entire. Way. Home. So we're parked at this Dairy Queen, trying to ignore the stench as we eat, discussing whether or not we should get rid of the stick, and a dog comes up to the car. He's an adorable, golden-eyed chocolate lab, pitifully skinny, wagging his tail and licking his chops as the scent of our french fries wafts out the open car window. Fact: I have a habit of rescuing anything furry with four legs. What do I do? I start tossing him french fries out the window. Eventually, I broke off pieces of my chicken and shared those with him, too. At this point, we're all throwing food to this stray dog, and I finally got out of the car and started petting and talking to this dog, telling him how cute he was and that if I was driving, he'd already be in the car. But my mom is not buying it. "What are you going to do with that dog? Where are you going to put him? He can't just ride in your lap." Touche. He was crawling with fleas. Still... It was this time that my little sister and her friend went into Dairy Queen to go to the bathroom and when they came back, I was still no closer to convincing my mother to let me rescue this stray. In fact, the story of the Dairy Queen Dog ends there because when they returned from the bathroom, they looked at us with those deer-in-the-headlights looks on their faces and said, "That guy in there said there's a gang coming to Dairy Queen tonight, he said they're headed this way, get in the car, let's go. Let's go NOW." Now, whether or not there were gangsters en route, it was getting pretty late and my mom finally pulled the plug on my efforts to smuggle the dog home with us. On the way home, we had another mishap with the directions, the car still smelled disgusting, and every radio station was staticky or playing nothing but commercials.

What was supposed to be a point A to point B journey home, with a short stop on the way to get something to eat, turned into an ordeal. It was laughable, and most of the time we made light of the situation, but that is a Grade A example of how my family seems to have a knack for making life harder than it needs to be. What could we have done? We could've - and definitely should have - left the stick on the beach. We could've - and arguably should have - routed the trip home on the GPS, right off the bat, and eliminated any confusion. We could've eaten inside the Dairy Queen and completely avoided any contact with the dog.  And that is entirely true. Any of the complications we encountered on that trip could have been avoided. But I think the important thing is not that we failed to responsibly get directions, or that we may or may not have narrowly avoided being on an episode of Cops at Dairy Queen, but that through it all, no one laid the blame on anyone else. Instead of being pessimistic and annoyed that everything seemed to be going awry, we chose to laugh.

Even the most meticulous, perfect plans can unravel. It's all in how you deal with it.

-Shelbs

Simple Curiosity

Today, I want to set the record straight. Curiosity may have killed the cat, as they say, but it was an indispensable part of my childhood. My parents never introduced us to video games, and we didn't have cable TV, so when my sisters and I became bored with the barbie dolls and hours of "Who Wants to be a Millionaire," we turned to the only resource we had left: the outdoors. We were usually barefoot, supervised through the glass back door of our house, and we always took a dog with us for protection, believing our four-legged companions could fight off any evil that may cross our paths. We were indian princesses, safari hunters, secret spies, and every type of animal you can think of. We explored every inch of our then 10 acre backyard and made it our own.

Those were the days, right? Now I hardly have time to clean my room, much less go on lengthy expeditions through the wilderness. But there are other ways to explore your surroundings, as I've discovered. When I was little, I used to read the encyclopedia and dictionary - not for school projects or for a specific piece of information - for FUN. I know what you're thinking, I must not have had any friends.. Which is not true!! I was simply curious. I wanted to know everything about everything, especially anything that crawled, swam, flew, or grew out of the ground. There is a CDE (career development event) in FFA called Nursery and Landscape Judging. This involves, among other things, the ability to identify over 200 different plants. This contest is the primary reason I can no longer run through neighborhoods, and why my friends hate going anywhere with me because I will identify plants the entire time. Not only do I know every plant on the list, but I usually also recognize any other plant typically used in the landscape, not because I have to, but because once you know a few plants, you want to know them ALL. I frequent the San Antonio Botannical Gardens with the same enthusiasm and wonder as a small child at the zoo.

Speaking of zoos, I have been to a few. My dad used to work at the San Antonio Zoo back in the day, managing the small mammals and some breeding programs, so I know my animals, African, Asian, Amazonian, Australian, and even the most obscure, unappreciated species. I've also been to the Smithsonian National Zoo in Washington, DC and the Lincoln Park Zoo in Chicago, IL. And yes, I drag my friends along with me, and yes, we have to see EVERYTHING. But as I've gotten older, I don't always have time to investigate everything. It is not humanly possible, as my good friend David told me once, to read every single plaque and piece of information about every object in the museum. We were in the famous Field Museum in Chicago - you know, home of the largest and most complete T-Rex skeleton in the world?? We only had time to glance through the exhibits, take a few pictures in front of "Sue", and skeddadle onto our next commitment at the conference.

I was crestfallen that I didn't have hours upon hours to peruse all the museum had to offer. But as I watched some other students go through the museum, it occured to me that some people never stop to read the plaques. You know, the plastic things they attach to every animal enclosure or exhibit, basically briefing you on the who, what, when, where, why, and how of that particular item. Some people are habitually hurried, so much so that there is no space for curiosity. No time to ask why, no time to wonder how, and absolutely no time to investigate. I think that's more than a little sad; it's contrary to human nature. We were born to ask questions and pursue knowledge beyond that which we are given. We hear all the time that knowledge is power and I'm here to tell you it's the absolute truth. Why not obtain it for yourself? Don't lose that child-like curiosity, cherish it. When your busy schedule permits you to go to a museum, a zoo, or even just a historical site in your town, take the extra time. Read the plaques. Even if it's tedious, even if it means getting off the beaten path a little. I promise it'll be worth it, it might even be fun. And if it isn't, you never have to do it again! But give knowledge a chance. It doesn't make you a nerd, it makes you human.

- Shelbs