The sky was sunny and bright in early morning; the cloud cover moved in while I was milking. It was warm outside so Bess and I went out regardless to sit with a book (a very good book, "Peace Like A River;" lovely prose) for awhile. The threat of the coming storms is a great impetus and the urge to get ready overcame my inclination to sit and read. Reaching a compromise, I brought more wood up to the porch, then sat and read. I went out and dug up a big pile of the seeded weeds that the turkeys had stripped bare. This straggly weed has a massive root ball, impossible to pull from the ground. It would make a wonderful ground cover for hills as, once dug, dirt clings in a clump the size of a soccer ball and must be beaten off against the pitchfork. Then I sat and read. Not enough sun to hang the clothes, but just in case of a loss of power in the predicted heavy winds, I did laundry. One can always read while the machines do the work and still feel productive. TG must have had prep work of his own, as neither he nor Son came to start on the drip line.
My friend Camille called. She had the evening free and wondered if we could watch a movie. By the time we'd both put our critters in for the night, I had thrown together a meal. It's been some time since Camille has visited and Bessie Anne is always happy to see Honey. Honey has wonderful manners, but she cracks me up. She knows where I keep the box of dog cookies and casually wanders through the room, humming to herself. "La lala, oh look, a box of cookies. Perhaps I'll have just one. La lala." Keeping the dog biscuit hidden in her mouth and turning her head away from Camille, Honey goes in the other room to chomp her treat. Bessie comes to me and rats her out. I give Bess a cookie to buy her silence. Honey comes back to the kitchen and lies next to Bessie's food dish. "La lala, hmmm, a bowl of snacks, isn't that lovely? La lala." Daintily and silently, she noses out a few kibbles and tries hard not to crunch as she eats. In the living room, Camille and I are watching the movie. Honey slowly moves about the room, checks Bessie's toy box, goes from corner to corner, and pauses in front of the big couch. "La lala. Well, doesn't that look like a nice soft place to lie? La lala, and no one's using it. Hmmm." With great nonchalance, she puts up one paw, then the other, and while it is difficult to slither uphill, she manages to heave herself onto the couch without arousing Camille. Once on the couch, she lies still as stone. She's a hoot!
Gracious hostess that I am, and truly interested in the financial documentary that Camille had brought, I made the mistake of putting the foot of the recliner up about halfway through the film. I woke up just as Camille and Honey were leaving, at least in time to say goodbye. What can I say?