Ralph picks the darndest times to get needy. Do cats have bad dreams? It wasn't the first time that Ralph has patted my sleeping face at 4 a.m. His touch is feather light, but insistent. He wants to be petted and reassured. It's hard to be affectionate when what I want is to sleep. Pat, pat, pat. So I stroke his back until his nighttime heeby-jeebies are gone and he finally lies down to spoon in the curve of my belly. Flick. Flick, flick, flick. I can tell when he's asleep when he stops brushing my face with his tail. It's one way to start the day.
Percy and his crew did wait until Tessie was up yesterday, knowing that she was a pretty ineffective weapon. Man, those squirrels keep me on my toes. I moved my stick over to the right side. It is just long enough to give the enemy a poke, and poke I did. I got the feeling that the gang thought I wasn't playing fair, but enough is enough! I felt a little bad for Squint because he couldn't see the stick coming on that side.
Beau came roaring up on his quad later, bringing more zucchini and other squashes from his garden. Gotta love this bountiful time of year!
Cam came up in the afternoon to show me her latest discovery. She'd found that the unwieldy, two-wheeled trash barrels provided by the company would fit on the trailer hitch on her truck by the handle and could be hauled back and forth that way. We got to laughing so hard when it dawned on us that she had driven all the way up here with barrel attached just to share this fascinating bit of info. We've got to get a life!!
Smoke hung like a cloud cover most of the day, not clearing until late afternoon. It is thick over the hills again this morning. Pete called, worried because he'd seen one of the big tanker planes fly over and headed in this direction. So far, so good on that score.