There was a loud ruckus in the front yard and I went to look. The six tom turkeys who hang out here were having a session of Fight Club, tails fanned and yelling at each other, circling and running back and forth. I knew my new phone could make a video and thought it would be the perfect opportunity. It would have been, had I known how to do it. The boys were intent and paid me no attention as I tapped here and there on the phone without success. When all else fails, read the instructions. By the time I had the book and found out how really, really easy it would have been to record the action, the gang had settled their differences and were peacefully cruising the yard again.
Several months back, I purchased another mulberry to replace the tree that didn't survive down in the goat pen. It was a case of my poor planning and poor timing. Assistance was not in the offing as I'd hoped and tree has sat in its tub on the porch. When I had mentioned to one of my sons that I needed to plant a tree, his first words were, "Who died?" This is not as strange a comment as it might seem as it is our practice to plant a rose or tree in memoriam here. The trees in the goat pen are for shade. The trees in the south pasture are for Steve and his friend Dan. I had told Dolly that I would plant either a mulberry or some kind of fruit tree for her when the time came so she could "feed the deer." After several missed appointments, Tree Guy came yesterday to extend the water line in the pasture and also plant the replacement tree in the pen. TG told me he had put a T fitting on the water line in case I decided to add more in the future. (Not too soon, I hope.) The nursery has a good supply of Pakistan mulberry trees, so I'll have one here when my friend's family is ready for a small Goodbye get-together.
Ralph considers the big, deep bathtub his personal playpen. I'm a shower person, myself, and use the separate stall shower. The tub is rarely used for its original intent. Ralph throws his toys in there. It makes a cat-satisfying thump when he lands in the tub and there are echoes when he bats the rubber ducky around. He hides in the tub, the better to ambush Celeste. Yesterday I washed out the dust and paw prints, and made a tactical error. In the middle of the night, Ralph was playing field hockey in the bathroom, hitting some object that skittered across the floor and racing after it, brrrp-brrrping to beat the band and having a great time. Goofy cat. This morning I found the little metal grate that covered the drain. Sorry, Ralph, but it's going back in the tub.
It was a busy day.