I heard a tractor coming up the drive while I was milking yesterday. Evidently Beau had decided to get going on the tree branch. We had discussed the need to scrape that weedy area around it down to bare ground to lessen any danger of fire should there be a spark from the chainsaw. His big-boy John Deere has a flat blade and it didn't take him long. Beau already had the saw going by the time I finished in the barn and he worked steadily for quite awhile, then came up to the house for a cold drink and a sit-down break. Rested, he went back out in the heat and worked for a couple of hours. There's still a lot more to do, but it was a good start. He's a good egg.
Speaking of eggs, that darned Gordon Ramsey! I've been making scrambled eggs for many, many years and found out on the last episode of "Master Chef" that I've been doing it wrong all this time. He demonstrated the "proper" way to scramble an egg (make that Ramsey's way) with a different technique and a dollop of creme fraiche instead of milk or water. I gave it a try last night and darn his hide, he was right. I had to substitute sour cream for creme fraiche, but still they were heavenly, moist, glistening, and light. Deb wouldn't be a fan because she prefers all eggs, scrambled or fried, done until hard, but that will be her loss. I may have to give them another trial tonight to be sure.