Having had it morning, noon, and night for days, I am happy to say that the potato salad is all gone. Dave and a couple of his friends are coming up on Saturday and Clay is coming to watch NASCAR on Sunday. I will not be making potato salad. It will be a l-o-n-g time before I make potato salad again.
A hot wind blew all day yesterday. The thermometer pegged at 100 in the shade. Thunderheads over the hills had us all keeping a weather watch. Last year over fifty fires were started by lightning strikes. The underbrush is thick and dry, and the threat is real. Three tom turkeys spent the day in the front yard under the oaks, beaks agape as they tried to stay cool. The flock of turklets and their nannies cruised by in the afternoon. The little ones are approaching adolescence. With all of the coyote activity lately, even during the day, I am surprised but pleased to see that the number of poults has not diminished.
Not even halfway into July and the days are getting shorter. Six o'clock and the sun has not yet risen. I've got to get the kids in by 8:30 at night or it's too dark and the goats are spooked.
Ruth evidently made an abject apology that was finally accepted by the herd and peace reigned in the pen once more. I brushed her down gently in the morning as I knew she'd been battered the day before and was probably tender and sore. At least they didn't pull out her hair as they've done in the past. Now if she just learns to choose her words wisely.
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1 comment:
Congratulations on winning "The Potato Salad War," but I wish you had the same abilities to win the "Weather War!"
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