Open the Pickle Jar, Please

You know how it is when you've tried and tried to get the darned jar open and simply cannot get the lid off?  And then you ask for help?  And you hand the jar to someone and it takes them one twist of the wrist to open it?  It's a mix of gratitude and frustration.  I had worn myself out trying to start the weed-eater.  Craig had to pull on the rope maybe three times and the danged thing fired up, blew a cloud of smoke, and ran like a champ for him.  He didn't even need "the squirty stuff."  Taking advantage of his flush of success, I directed him around to the tall weeds behind the feed barn just to "make sure" the machine was operating correctly.  Before we went back to the house, I wanted to start the wicked piece of equipment myself and, of course, with Craig watching it took me one pull.  I swear some machines are misogynists.

Ralph is a self-appointed Ambassador of Goodwill.  Deb and Craig had barely walked in the door when he appeared, peeking around a corner to see if the warden was on duty and then coming to greet our guests.  He spent most of the day ingratiating himself with some of his best tricks:  nose rubs, lap sitting, playing with the twitch toy, bird watching (with sound effects), and posing for selfies with the Kids.  Celeste did come out briefly to be oohed and ahhed over, and then it was back to the bat cave for her.  I don't know whether she is shy or aloof.  Bessie Anne gets just the slightest bit jealous when Ralph is receiving so much attention, especially from Craig, whom she considers "hers," and uses her big brown eyes to flirt outrageously with him.

It was such an unexpected and most welcome treat to have the Kids come up.  Need I say it was an excellent day?