Tuesday, July 31, 2018

Blip

I'd written the blog, checked Facebook, and was on the third of my mandatory three games of solitaire (I am nothing if not a creature of habit) when "blip" the power went out yesterday.  Oh crum.  No water, no fan, no TV, no nothing.  It took a total re-think of the plans for the day.  The only thing I could think of that didn't take electricity in one way or the other was dusting.  Aarrgh.  Good old PG&E was on the ball and ta da! got us up and running in about a half hour and I was saved from that terrible fate.  Life went on as usual.

I'm a little worried about Inga.  For two days running, she has not finished her nighttime treat nor wanted her breakfast cereal.  She has been eating alfalfa during the day and does not appear to be losing weight, but it's just not like her to skip a meal.  Inga is by far the oldest girl in the diminishing herd and I know her time is coming, but I'm never ready for the end.  Maybe the heat has caused her to lose her appetite.

Since we once again had water, I threw a load of clothes in the washer.  I was down to my last clean pair of bibbies, but with animals, there's no telling how long they'd stay clean.  I also mixed up four quarts of juice for the hummers, just in case.  I filled the big pot of water for the wild things, as I do every morning.  I never know what it is that comes during the night, but in hot weather, it is nearly empty every day, poor things.

The Dynamic Duo are coming this morning to finish the onerous job of cleaning the shed.    That only takes boy power.

Monday, July 30, 2018

Where There's Smoke

Oh crum, two more wildfires sprang up, fast movers that have required the evacuation of the entire town of Lakeport, farther up north and to the west.  Lakeport was the home of Steve's grandparents and the site of many family reunions.  Tales of terror and heroism from the evacuees are enough to break your heart even if the smoke hadn't already put tears in your eyes.

What with all the particulate matter in the air, it was a good day to sit and watch NASCAR, although I could have done without Bubba Wallace's horrific wreck just at the end.  It was amazing to see him finally climb out of what was left of his car.  After any crash, the known signal that the driver is okay is when they drop the window guard, and there was a collective holding of breath because it took Bubba quite a while to do that, and wild cheering when he did.  It is a tribute to the race car manufacturers and to the tracks themselves that there can be a wreck of such proportions and still have the driver walk away.  Would that all cars were built like that.

After the race and the news regarding all the fires, it was good to take refuge with "Victoria And Abdul" (2017, Judi Dench, Ali Fazal, Eddie Izzard).  I hadn't seen much hype about this movie, but there are those actors for whom I will watch anything they make, and Dame Judi Dench and Eddie Izzard are on that list.  Dame Judi (Dame Dench?  I'm not up on protocol) reprised her role as Queen Victoria and her relationship with "the help," as she did in "Mrs. Brown."  Both films are fictionalized accounts of actual events.  Eddie Izzard, who has made the transition from stand-up comedian to successful serious actor, plays Victoria's son Bertie, who became King Edward VII.  Suffice it to say that Queen Victoria was a little spitfire who did things her way.

I don't know if it was the smoke or my neighbor's dogs, who seem to only come out at sundown, but the girls were spooked and bedtime was bedlam last evening.  Inga and Tessie had their usual contretemps when one dashed into the wrong stall, and defenceless Inga got the wrong end of the stick.  The smoke covered the sun and darkened the sky, so I put them in earlier than usual.

A good soaking rain would be helpful about now.  Nature, are you listening?

Sunday, July 29, 2018

Pack Up Your Troubles

"Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag, and smile, smile, smile."  (WWI marching song, 1917.  The advantage of having had a father who fought in WWI.)

It was amazing how quickly my troubles, such as they are, disappeared when I got an early morning text from Dave with an invitation to meet for lunch.  Count me in!  I calculated time and distance carefully and was ready and raring to go so as not to be late.  (He'd said "noonish.")  I pulled in to Bones parking lot at 12:08...and no Dave.  Hmmm.  Just one problem.  I reread his text.  In my excitement, I had inserted Bones in my mind instead of Poor Red's.  Of course, there was no cell reception to let him know I was another ten minutes away.  I don't think I've ever made the drive from Pleasant Valley to El Dorado faster.  I even hit the four stop lights green.

Dave and Jester had ridden their motorcycles and were enjoying a cold beer while waiting for the errant mother.  Poor Red's has air conditioning so we opted for an inside table rather than eating out on the patio.  Good food filled my belly, but it was the company that filled my heart.

What troubles?

Saturday, July 28, 2018

Shame On Me

I'm ashamed for all my sniveling about the smoke and heat.  Yes, it's hot.  Yes, it's hard to breathe.  It's summer, woman, what did you expect?!  It's not like I do all that much anyhow, so I just need to get over myself.

I watched a lot of news yesterday, and California is on fire.  If there is anything good about the Ferguson fire over by Yosemite it is that, big as it is, it is in an unpopulated area.  Animals will recover and, as they found out when Yellowstone burned, the forest will come back stronger than before.  The Carr fire up around Redding is a different matter.  It is gobbling up houses like potato chips, entire neighborhoods burned to ash.  Cousins lost their home to the Santa Rosa fire in 2017, and it was devastating.  There was the one time that we were in a position of imminent evacuation here, and I don't ever want a repeat of that.  I know there is another big fire down in southern California, but it doesn't get the same news coverage up here.

How grateful we all must be that there are men and women willing to put their lives literally on the line and work in unspeakably terrible conditions to try and keep others safe.

Slowly and in small increments, daylight comes later and sundown is a bit earlier now.  Here, at least, life goes on as usual.  In the grand scheme of things, I have no complaints.

Friday, July 27, 2018

Up And Running

Four a.m., eighty degrees.  Just thought I'd throw that in.

After barn chores yesterday, I was ready to tackle the vacuum cleaner again.  It's amazing what a difference bright light, glasses, and the instruction manual make.  I'd made the assumption that there wouldn't be much of a change between models and, boy, was I ever familiar with taking the old one apart and putting it back together.  I was wrong.  The triangular "this" that had me confused has nothing to do with air intake and the hose attaches in a completely different place.  The new cleaner is much lighter than the old one and it took off like a racehorse out of the gate.  The old one was like pushing a tank around, slow work.  Even so, after cleaning a token patch and making sure the thing was running right, I called it quits.  Just too darned hot.

I know what I'll be doing today...early.

Thursday, July 26, 2018

Hissy Fit

The shed critters were in a right snit after the cleanup.  Bits of what remains of the ceiling insulation were thrown down all over yesterday.  If they were capable of throwing rocks, I'm sure I would have been bombarded.  Ask me if I care.  They need to move on.

When the vacuum cleaner stopped working (again), I ordered a new one.  Since it's just me, I could deal with (i.e., ignore) the bits of leaves and burrs that Bessie spreads around, but when Deb and Craig made their surprise visit, I went into a panic.  I got out the old-time carpet sweeper and went to work, and I do mean work.  It gave me a great appreciation for what women went through before vacuum cleaners were invented.

Well, late yesterday afternoon a nice man delivered the new machine.  (I know he was a nice man because he came equipped with a cookie for Bess.)  I knew I had a task at hand because it was an upright vacuum and it came in a square box.  Because it is the same brand and just a different model, I was able to identify parts and got it mostly put together and then it came down to attaching the hose.  For the life of me, I couldn't figure how to fit a square "this" over a triangular "that."  The sun was going down and the light was getting dim so I set the whole thing aside before I had a hissy fit of my own and decided it was a job that could wait until today.

In the meantime, the cats had commandeered the empty box and were playing hide and seek.  They could care less about the contents, they think I bought a box just for them.

Currently, we're getting no relief from the heat at night and we're in a week-long stretch of 100-plus days.  Aaargh.

Wednesday, July 25, 2018

Progress

A lot got done yesterday, but not by me.  The Kid and Brother, now known as the Dynamic Duo, came at 6:30, armed with the gloves I'd told them to wear.  I had a very dirty, much needed job for them to do.  Some long while back, hundreds of pounds of acorns stuffed by woodpeckers over the ceiling of the "first shed" had come pouring down.  Clay and I had cleaned up that awful mess.

Yeah, well, it didn't last.  Between rats and ground squirrels, the shed was a disaster zone again.  I store bags of squashed aluminum cans in there until there are enough to justify a trip to the recycling center, as well as some other odds and ends and the birdseed.  The furry fiends in residence had torn open the bags and scattered the cans.  They'd pushed glass jars off of shelves to break on the cement floor.  Remnants of insulation from what was left of the ceiling was thrown down, presumably to make comfy beds below.  In addition, there was a ton of droppings everywhere.  Yech.

The Dynamic Duo worked for three hours and made terrific headway.  Brother explained that it was hard to get into the corners with the shovel.  Waggling my fingers, I explained what they were for.  "Oh."  That's okay.  It was getting hotter by the minute and the boys had gotten a lot done, so I called it quits for them and their mama came to pick them up.

I don't feel even a twinge of guilt at having displaced who knows how many squirrels and/or rats.  It's time they realized this is not a homeless camp and they need to move on.  Hospitality has its limits, and I'd definitely reached mine.

There is still much that needs doing, but there was progress yesterday.

Tuesday, July 24, 2018

Fly By

Eleven months out of the year, we are fly free up here and never see a one.  Evidently July is the chosen month this year because I'm killing at least a dozen in the house every day.  Yech!  I don't really see them outside, but they lurk by the doors and sneak in during Bessie's frequent in-an-out trips.  The only good thing is that I know (hope) they'll soon go back to wherever they came from.

It got hot early on yesterday.  I knew I had to make the dreaded trip to town, but couldn't take Bess with me on that excursion.  Wanting to give her an A/C break too, we made a quick (fly-by) drive to the "cookie store."  It's amazing how even five minutes in the truck with the air conditioner blasting stops her heavy panting.  Poor little girl.  (Poor me.)

For a change, there was no traffic on the way to P'ville so I could enjoy the drive and the A/C without rushing.  I made each of three stops in town as quick as possible.  Even so, Truck's door handle was burning hot and the interior was like an oven when I got back in.  I laugh at myself every time I come back from a shopping trip and unload as many bags as possible at one time until I look like a pack mule and stagger to the house.  Yes, of course I could make two (or more) trips, but where is the challenge in that?

One thing that does not fly by is a long, hot day.  Just putting the girls to bed was enough to pop a sweat.  There was no sense in turning on the whole-house fan which pulls in the cool evening air after sundown and blows the accumulated hot air out of the attic last night because it never cooled off.

Monday, July 23, 2018

Lazy-Hazy Day

"Those Lazy-Hazy-Crazy Days of Summer" (1963, Nat King Cole), was the song of the day yesterday.  Sunrise was almost obscured by smoke from the Ferguson fire.  This shot, taken toward the east just before 8 a.m., tells the story pretty well.  Those aren't clouds in the sky.  It hurts to breathe when it's like this, and doesn't take much exercise to get me panting like Bess.  In addition, someone cranked up the thermostat again, thus the "lazy" and "hazy."  ("Crazy" is a chronic condition.)

It's always such a nice surprise to find Missy in the barn, and even better when she comes to meet me on the path as she did yesterday.  This tiny companion supervises as I get set up for the girls, then leads the way back to her room for breakfast.  She is such a welcome addition to the menagerie.

Clay is a dedicated NASCAR fan, so much so that he was in Loudon, New New Hampshire, for the race yesterday.  While I was sweltering here, Clay was sitting out a several-hour rain delay back east.  Go figure.  Bowyer had bad luck, but Jimmie Johnson, Clay's driver, finished in the top ten.

Any excuse to delay a trip to town is a good one.  Can I go one more day without such-and-such?  If at all possible, I'll put it off.  Today is the day, however.  Drat.

Sunday, July 22, 2018

Good Medicine

A visit from Deb and Craig yesterday was just what the doctor ordered to cure my bad case of Grumps.  My heart lifted as soon as their truck drove up and I saw their smiling faces.  To put the frosting on it, my personal shoppers brought a lot of stuff from the wish list, including big bags of salt-and-pepper pistachios.  (If you've never tried these, do!  They are addicting.)  Bess Anne was getting low on the treats reserved just for going in the truck.  We're long past the days when she was afraid to take a ride, but she still looks forward to her special treat when we get home (I'm not above bribery).

The Kids had picked the perfect day to come up.  I don't think it got over 85, but it was still more comfortable to sit in the dining room where there is a window A/C and a ceiling fan.  It was so much better than opening the door and welcoming guests to hell.  We sat and talked and snacked on pistachios and I didn't have to pass around the spray bottle once for survival.  Because of the heat, I really don't expect to see the Kids from Mother's Day to Thanksgiving, so this visit was an especial treat.

Because I can't bear to have a dog begging at the table, Bessie has been trained from puppyhood not to sit and stare when we're at the dining room table.  She goes underneath and goes to sleep, usually with her head on someone's foot.  Ralph is another story.  Yesterday he was like a three-year-old child, constantly demanding attention.  He pulled out all the tricks in the book to the point of being obnoxious.  Celeste did her vanishing act until just before the Kids were getting ready to leave.  She came cautiously out into the hall and we were able to coax her into the living room.  I think Clay had conditioned her to accept "strangers" (how many years has it taken?).

I look forward to Deb's Saturday morning phone calls, but how much better to sit and talk face to face.  Gosh, I've missed that.  All too soon it was time for the Kids to leave, but how grand to hear "Love you!" as they drove away.

Putting the girls to bed later, it was as if the sun was celebrating the day, as well.  Not a Grump in sight.  It was a good day.

Saturday, July 21, 2018

Grump Grump

Do I wake up at o'dark-thirty every day?  Why, yes, I do (4 a.m. today).  However, I am not a "morning person" per se.  Unlike Steve, whose eyes and mouth opened at the same time, I like to ease into the day quietly.  Feed bowls are filled and treats are distributed, all without speaking.  Ralph has enough exuberance for us all.  If there is such a thing as a "morning cat," that would be him as he races up and down the hall, yelling "brrrp brrrp" as he goes.  Coffee in hand, I sit at the computer and contemplate the topic for the day.  That's the optimum way to start the day.  Obviously, yesterday did not hit that mark and left me tight jawed for the duration.

Mama turkey was at the buffet yesterday, but I could only find six turkletts with her.   Drat.  Tom turkeys are no gentlemen.  Five or six came rushing up when I put down the feed.  Women and children had to step to the rear and wait for leftovers.  It's not my place to interfere, but I didn't like it.

While not as hot, it was more than warm yesterday and only a few desultory chores got done, even though Deb and Craig are coming up this morning.  The vacuum cleaner pooped out again.  I've got a new one on order, but it won't be here for a week.  Since I couldn't sweep the carpet, dusting seemed like an exercise in futility.  I hated to waste a good grump, so it was a good day to pay bills.  It wouldn't show anywhere but my checkbook, but at least I could say something was accomplished.

I waited with bated breath when I turned on the computer this morning, but it fired up without hesitation.  That, plus the anticipation of seeing my Kids, is an omen it's going to be a good day.

Friday, July 20, 2018

Ranting!

Whatever I might have thought about writing today has gone completely from my mind, thanks to TWO hours spent on the phone with tech support while trying to access the server, without which I was dead in the water.  Finally needing the unhelpful help of a supervisor, who completely wiped out my entire computer history in the process, I'm reasonably back in business.  Let's just say I'm in no mood to write about warm fuzzies and tweeting birdies just now.  Whenever working with tech support, I do my darndest to be patient and friendly; after all, I'm asking for their help and need them on my side.  However, as in that famous line from "Cool Hand Luke," what we have here is a failure to communicate.  Aaarrgh!  Okay, that's enough about that.  The "real me" will be back tomorrow, God willing, the creek don't rise, and the server comes up as bidden.  Fingers crossed.

Thursday, July 19, 2018

Sharing

Yesterday was the hottest day yet and nothing, but nothing, got done.  (It's still over 80 degrees in the house at 5 a.m. this morning.)  I got caught up on a lot of stuff I'd DVRd, including a number of the wonderful PBS Nature programs.  One in particular, a documentary on an orphaned baby elephant, brought back one of the best memories in my life, and that's what I have to share today.

The Kids' dad and I took the family down to the San Diego Zoo for the day.  We had just the three then, and I was heavily pregnant with the fourth.  The San Diego Zoo is huge!  We must have walked miles going up and down the many paths, marveling at the exotic animals and, in the afternoon, I couldn't take another step.  Their dad took the three and went on, and I sat down alone at the rear of the elephant enclosure, the backside of the barn.  It was a surprise when the barn door slid open and the caretaker came walking out with a baby elephant to take a stroll in their yard.  What a treat!  But the best was yet to come.  The man noticed me and my rather obvious condition, seemed to make up his mind, and motioned me over to the fence.  Of course I went.  We made some small talk, and then he opened a small gate and invited me in to pet the baby.  Oh wow!  The baby sniffed or felt me all over with its trunk, and I must have gotten its approval because the man told me to put my hand in the baby's mouth.  Really?!  I will never, ever forget the sensation of that little elephant sucking on my fingers with its trunk wrapped around my shoulders.  It was pure magic.  I was sorry the Kids weren't there, but, of course, if they had been, it never would have happened.  It was my moment in time, mine alone.

We're supposed to be in a cooling trend, starting today.  I sure hope so.  We're getting a lot of smoke from the Ferguson fire down by Yosemite and the air quality is very poor.  Like it or not, I've got to get something done today to get ready for Deb and Craig's visit.  Or not.

Wednesday, July 18, 2018

Two, Please

Either Dang-It is getting weary or I may be winning one for a change.  Either way, yesterday morning he'd pushed only a token amount of dirt out of the tunnel and had not bothered to knock the lid off the chow barrel.  It might be just a lull in the skirmish, but I'll take it!

Try as I might to avoid the subject, the topic of the day is the heat.  When it's up to 90 in the house, it's hard to think of much else.  It's hard to think, period.  I went through two spray bottles of water in a day.  Each spritz evaporated as soon as it hit my skin, but it was momentary relief.  Bess Anne was a bit luckier in that regard.  She suffers from the heat as much as I, and I could hear her panting from across the room.  She went willingly with me out to her pool, but had to wait while I added cold water because I would have had a boiled hot dog if I'd put her in without testing it first.  When it was ready, she needed no coaxing to step in and I soaked her completely.  Once again, she gave just a token shake before heading back into the house.  Breathing normally, she fell immediately fell asleep.  Later in the day, she asked to go out and do it again and I was happy to comply.

Close to sundown, I loaded the trash and Bessie into the truck, turned on the A/C, and drove slowly down to the big road.  I left the motor running for Bess while I hauled the barrel from Cam's driveway, down our dirt road, and across the street.  If I hadn't had to get back to put the girls to bed, we might have taken a bit of a ride just to cool off.  It was nice while it lasted.

Puffy white clouds on the horizon often make me think of smoke signals.  Whoever was "sky talking" yesterday was using Morse code with just those unusual dashes.  Hmmm.

Sometimes on a hot day I'll run water from the hose over the back of my neck while I'm replenishing the goat trough after putting the girls to bed.  Yesterday I quite literally soaked my head and, like Bessie, went back into the house dripping wet.  It was the best I'd felt all day.

Tuesday, July 17, 2018

More Of The Same

"La-de-da-de-dee.  La-de-da-de-dah.  And the heat goes on."  (Apologies to Sonny and Cher.)

I'm in a seemingly unending battle with a ground squirrel down in Missy's room.  Dang-It had burrowed up in the corner by the door, leaving an opening bigger than a saucer and a mound of dirt at the side.  Every morning I push the dirt back in the hole, and the next morning we do it all over again.  Every. Single. Morning.  This squirrel has been sent to plague me.  I'm on the second coffee can in which to keep Missy's cat food because Dang-It has chewed holes in the lids.  I started hiding the can buried in the goat chow barrel, but Dang-It has figured a way to knock the lid off the barrel to get to the goodies.  I've been pretty much a live-and-let-live person, but that could change.

Speaking of killing (did I say that out loud?), there have been a couple of Black Widow spiders in the milking room.  Those little beasties are hard to kill, fast as greased lightning they are, darting back into dark, unreachable crevices.  However, they create unmistakable white puffball egg sacs suspended out in the open.  I have no compunction in squooshing that sac, knowing I'm wiping out a generation (200-900) of spiders.  Ha HA!

Larry has joined a just-for-fun baseball team called the Poi Dogs.  Yesterday he sent me this photo.  Didn't I say he is having fun?

Best of all, Deb called and said she and Craig are going to make a hit-and-run visit on Saturday, coming up and then leaving early in the day to beat the heat.  My cup runneth over.

Monday, July 16, 2018

Half Baked

I may be half baked now, but given the prediction is for mid to high 90s for the next ten days or so here, I expect to be fully done by then.  'Nuff said.

Heat notwithstanding, it's been a grand week, a piecemeal family reunion of sorts.  It started with that great call from Dave, and then I got my Saturday morning catch-up call from Deb, followed by Clay's surprise visit.  Just when I was thinking it couldn't get much better, Larry called from Hawaii yesterday.  He's still paddle-boarding with giant sea turtles and having the time of his life.  As much as I miss him, knowing my Kid is happy is worth the world.

Holding out as long as I could, I didn't go to the store until late afternoon.  I wished I could have taken Bessie Anne with me so she could enjoy the A/C, too, but no way would I leave her in the truck while I went in the store and unfortunately dogs are not permitted inside.  Why is it we silly humans feel it necessary to burden ourselves like pack mules to bring as many, if not all, the bags of groceries in the house in one trip?  I know I'm not the only one who does this.  If I was sweating when I left the house, I was dripping when I got everything inside.

It was a long day.

Sunday, July 15, 2018

Surprise!

It's pretty nifty when a blah day turns into something special.  No humidity (yay!), but already close to 90 degrees, I was having a sit-down after barn chores and contemplating what to do with the rest of the day.  Probably a quick run up to the market if for no other reason than to sit in Truck's A/C and the possibility that the store would also be cooler, as well as restocking supplies.  That's when I got a text from Clay, saying that he'd be up "in a bit," and "see you soon."  Holy cow!  Wracking my brain, trying to remember if I'd known he was coming, I checked prior texts to see if he'd let me know and I'd forgotten (always a possibility).  Nope, this was a most welcome surprise visit, and wasn't I glad that the house still looked nice from my prior guest?

As always when the Kids are coming up, my first thought is, "What will I feed them?"  Checking refrigerator, cupboards, and freezers, I wasn't coming up with much, or at least not much that didn't require a lot of cooking, not an appealing thought in the heat.  Clay had said in a bit and soon, so I didn't want to leave, just in case.  We need to work on our terminology, as it turned out I would have had plenty of time to make it up to Holiday and back.  Plan B:  teriyaki chicken breasts from the freezer and roasted potatoes and Brussels sprouts; let the oven do the cooking.

While we were waiting, I took Bess out and put her in her pool and soaked her to the skin.  It was a good indication of the heat that she barely gave a shake when she got out, preferring to drip dry.  I know the feeling.

It's been quite a while since Clay has come up.  Like Dave, Clay has been working long hours and more than five days a week.  I was so happy that he chose to share some precious time off with me.  NASCAR was having a Saturday night race, so that was on our agenda.

Ralph usually comes out briefly when there is company, curious as always to know what's going on.  Celeste, not so much.  She takes off to the bedroom at the first sound of a vehicle in the driveway and stays in hiding for the duration.  There are people who've never seen her, period, so it was a huge surprise when she suddenly appeared in the living room, and an even bigger one when she allowed Clay to pet her.  It was worth commemorating the event on film.  (I know, I know we don't use film anymore.  Give me a break.)

Enjoying Clay's company darned near made me forget how hot it was.  It was the race that turned out to be blah, one of those go-round-and-round races.  Neither of our guys even finished in the top ten.  Phooey.  Dinner, such as it was, turned out well.  Clay walked with me to put the girls to bed and surprisingly, they all behaved well and went directly to their rooms.  Clay has that effect on animals.

All too soon, it was time for my son-by-another-mother to leave.  It was a great day.

Saturday, July 14, 2018

Cast Away

No, not the 2000 movie "Cast Away" with Tom Hanks in a stellar, almost-solo performance.  There was an overcast sky yesterday and it was cool, relatively speaking, in the 70s almost until 1:00.  I found myself singing "Plop, plop, fizz, fizz, oh what a relief it is" from the old, black-and-white commercial from the 1950s with Speedy Alka Seltzer.  Doing a little research, that era is now referred to as "vintage."  I like that term.  I'm no longer going to say I'm elderly...I'm vintage!

A nap in heat is mandatory if for no other reason than escape.  A nap in cool weather is pure pleasure.  I took advantage of the break to actually do something other than sleep, as well.  After all that got done the day before, the list was short.  Just as well, because around 1:00 the overcast burned away, burned being the definitive term.  The grey sky had brought no rain, but when it went away the temperature soared like a rocket and the humidity was brutal.  All activity came to a screeching halt.

It was a delight in the morning to see a mama turkey shepherding seven little turkletts to the feeding station.  These were the first I'd seen this year.  I could only wish Mama good luck.  There is a high mortality rate with youngsters, and it is so sad to watch a family be decimated.

Just the walk to the barn left me pouring sweat.  The whole-house fan after sundown brought no relief as all it brought in was more hot, humid air.  Last night was the first time I ran the bedroom ceiling fan all night just to stir the air around and hope for the best.  It's still running and it's still hot.

I've tried to stay away from the subject of weather.  Oh well.

Friday, July 13, 2018

To Do - Ta Da

There's nothing like a guest coming to spur me to action.  I have a new financial advisor and, would you believe it, he volunteered to come here rather than force me to make the dreaded drive into Sacramento.  That definitely called for some prep work before the 10 o'clock appointment time.

The girls aren't surprised anymore when I show up shortly after sunrise and barn chores were first on the to-do list.  Next, clean up the kitchen.  That didn't take long, so I was ready to tackle the living room carpet.  I'd finally gotten the dadratted vacuum cleaner running again the day before.  After a couple of weeks or so of dust, fur, and stickers, the rug was a complete disaster and, while not first, it was at the top of the list in capital letters.  It was slow going, but I got it done; at least so that it didn't deserve a "This property is condemned" sign.  I think I really need a new vacuum, but I'm not ready to bite that particular bullet just yet.

Having started the day at 4 a.m. and all of the above done, there was time for a shower (eau de goat is not that appealing for a first meeting) and a brief sit-down before the gentleman arrived.  He could not have been nicer and patiently explained the whys and wherefores of suggested changes.  The meeting went well, I think, so much so that he asked if he could bring one of his partners along the next time!  Boy, I'm sure glad the carpet looked good.

Having been running at full tilt all morning, I was ready to do nothing the rest of the day (I'm good at that).  In the afternoon I received a lovely long call from my son Dave, who works crazy long hours and sometimes seven days a week, so he doesn't usually have much time to chat.  It was so nice to catch up with him.

I wish the clouds at sundown held more moisture.  We'd been hoping that some of the monsoons moving up from the south would drop some water here, but no.  It would have increased the humidity but might have lessened the possibility of fires.

I call that a productive day.  Ta da!

Thursday, July 12, 2018

Tale Of A Tail

When Celeste jumps up on my lap, she makes herself comfortable across my legs and goes to sleep.  Lately it's been Ralph who claims the spot in the morning, but it's not quite the same with him.  Ralph prefers to lie lengthwise so we're facing the same way.  I wouldn't exactly call him hyperactive, but even at rest this boy can't be still.  His long tail is pointed toward my face, continually on the move and repeatedly whapping me in the eye, the nose, or cheek.  Celeste is my stalwart companion, quietly following (or herding me) everywhere I go.  Ralph is my clown.  He does make me laugh.

Like dogs everywhere, Bessie Anne's tail is a barometer of her moods.  Let the Kids drive up and that tail is going like a windmill.  On those rare occasions when she is chastised, her tail drops down between her legs in shame.  When Honey comes to visit, Bessie's tail is up and wagging big time.  I don't ever have to ask her how she's feeling.

Even the goats express themselves with their tail.  Happy, the tail wags like a dog's.  When in heat, the tail is nearly a blur, it goes so fast.  Angry, it flies at high mast.  I use the tail like a rudder to point the girl in the right direction, or give it a squeeze to get her moving along when she stalls on the path.

Animals may not talk, but they certainly and constantly express themselves honestly.

Wednesday, July 11, 2018

Jump Start

It was almost pleasant walking down to the barn at 6 a.m. yesterday, cool even.  The girls were a little surprised to see me that early, but were willing to go along with the program and were done with their breakfast by the time the boys got here at 6:30.  The guys had brought shovels, but what is really needed to scoop goat pellets is a leaf rake first, then a shovel.  I had the rake.  The Kid is a year younger than Brother, but since he got the job first I direct all instructions to him, just to let Brother know who's in charge.

Getting such a jump on the day left time in the morning to get something done in the house before it really started heating up.  I may stick to the new schedule.  Or not.  I'd finished cleaning the kitchen when the boys came up to the house, asking if I needed help with anything else.  That made me smile inside because the question was not entirely altruistic.  More work meant more money.  What I appreciated most was that they hadn't dragged out the barn chore to extend their time.  Since they had shovels, I asked them to dig away weeds and dirt piled up under the gate to the goat pen that were making the gate hard to close, and off they went.  They really are good kids.

I'd been told that The Kid and Brother would be available for work all this week, but I had to explain to the fellas that paying them for two days  used up all my available cash.  If I get to the store, I'll replenish the supply, but I'm not going to make a special trip.

I've been watching the Ken Burns documentary "The Vietnam War," a ten-part film that I've only been able to take in small doses.  All that madness and death, and for what?  It's an exceptionally fine film, and it was important that I watch to the end.  It should be required viewing in the hope that we do not repeat that mistake again.

Would you believe I actually dusted yesterday?  I did!

Tuesday, July 10, 2018

Well Done

"I'm melting!"  The Wicked Witch of the West and I have a lot in common.  'Nuff said.

The Kid's mom sent a text asking if he could work here yesterday, and also if he could bring his brother.  Yes, definitely, to The Kid, but I didn't have enough cash on hand for two.  There were always a couple of bucks in the cookie jar when I was selling milk and eggs, but those days are long gone and I don't always remember to get extra funds when I cash a check.  However, when she drove up, two boys got out.  Kid explained they had discussed it and that I would pay only for him and he would split it with Brother.  Brother said he was good with that, and had brought a second weed whacker to use.  Well, I wasn't going to turn down a two-fer, and felt only a little guilt about accepting the offer.  I know from experience that a job goes much faster and is more pleasant when there's someone working alongside.

I put the boys to work, and I could hear them talking and laughing together as they cleared weeds from both sides of the driveway all the way down to the road.  They came up to the house once to refill their insulated water bottles and I had them sit for a short bit in the shade on the porch.  Kid is a bit of a soberside, but Brother is a talker.  They're both nice boys.  They asked about more work.  Hmmm.

They're coming to clean the barn this morning.  Early.  They didn't get started yesterday until almost 9 and it was already hot.  They worked in the sun for two hours and I was getting worried about them.  Under the metal roof, it is like a bake oven and I don't want them getting heat stroke.  That means I've got to get the girls fed and outside by 6:30 today when the boys are due.

The fellas did a good job.  Me, I'm just well done.

Monday, July 9, 2018

More Of The Same

Hot, hot, and more hot.  A whole week of 90-plus days is predicted, so it's safe to say that summer is here.  Bess and I went to replenish goat chow and birdseed shortly after barn chores and before the heat lowered the boom.  It wouldn't have been kind to the young man who had to load the 75-pound bag of chow and 40 pounds of birdseed to have waited until afternoon.  Me, I'll unload them this morning.  Even so, the A/C in the truck felt good.  I shall try to avoid the subject of heat in future, but no promises.

It was another day for piddly but necessary tasks, nothing to write home about, for sure.  I do a lot of sitting in the summer.  Turning on the sprinkler in the herb-and-weed garden filled the birdbath and made the birds happy, and didn't expend a lot of energy.  When the bath gets crowded, others just flutter around in the spray.  It looks pretty tempting.  Bess likes to go out after the water has been turned off and lie on the cool, damp earth.  That looks pretty good, too.

Sunday, July 8, 2018

Going Up

Back in the day before elevators were push-button, self-serve, there were elevator operators who would ask, "Going up?"  That would have been an unnecessary question yesterday as temperatures soared up into the 90s.  Aarrgh.  I was glad it was a Saturday as I had a ready-made excuse to do little to nothing.  After spending most of the day watching cooking shows, I discovered that the Belmont Breeders Cup horse races were televised.  Oh goody!  I filled a spray bottle with water to keep by my chair and frequently spritzed face and arms to cope with the heat.  Cats and dog laid motionless most of the day like furry throw rugs, only getting up to move to a cooler spot.  NASCAR was having a night race at Daytona.  I don't do well with night races because I fall asleep.  That's what happens when you wake up at 4 a.m., and that's what I did last evening.  I missed most of the race.  Phooey.

Saturday, July 7, 2018

That Was Different

High temperatures were predicted yesterday, so it was a surprise to find a heavily overcast sky and a cool morning.  I was in the process of texting Beau, suggesting it might be a good day for The Kid (his nephew) to do some weed-eating, when who should show up at the door but Kid himself and his dad.  I showed him what needed to be done and told him I wasn't going to stand around and supervise because I trusted him to do as asked.  After his father left, I also told him there was no shame in calling it quits if he got tired or it got too hot.  Weed whacking is hard work and has wiped out older men than The Kid.  I'm glad I had said that, because it wasn't long before the overcast burned off and it got hot in a hurry.  Kid hung in there for a little more than an hour and got the high stuff around the front yard cut down.  It's certainly not all that needs doing, but it was a start.  I drove him home, and we discussed the fact that I get up early so if he wanted more work (i.e., the money), he could come while it was still cool.  I think we've got a deal.

When my Kids were still home, I would make monster meatloaves.  (To say they were good eaters would be an understatement.)  I now make the same amount of meat mixture, but make individual, one-serving size loaves, bake them off, and bag and freeze them.  Yesterday, I ended up with ten.  To go with, broccoli salad sounded good, so made a big bowl of that, too.  I talked with Cam, who was just leaving to go pick up prescriptions, and told her that if she would stop by on her way home, she wouldn't have to get out of her truck and I would provide curbside service and bring out dinner to go.  I split the meatloaves between us and filled a container of salad.  For someone who is as active and hardworking as Camille, this recovery period is difficult.  The trip to town really tired her out.  I hope she enjoyed her dinner as much as I did.

After nothing but clear blue skies all day, these beautiful clouds at sundown were a surprise as I was going down to the barn.

Even more surprising and spectacular was the change in colors as I was coming back up.

It was a good day.

Friday, July 6, 2018

On The Road

Right now I'm hearing "On The Road Again" in my head.  It's great having this portable jukebox; I never know which record is going to drop, but there's always music playing.  Hahaha, I'll guess there are some readers too young to know about the big colorful jukeboxes or the small tabletop models in booths at every bar, soda fountain, and hamburger joint.  Back in the day, it was five songs for a quarter.  Now I don't even need change.

"On The Road Again" is right up there with "Whiskey River" when Willie Nelson comes to mind.  There was a time when I went to every concert Willie played in northern California, from Lake Tahoe down to San Jose.  Just hearing the first thrum on his deep-throated Martin guitar evokes happy memories.

Undoubtedly I'm hearing "On The Road Again" because I couldn't dodge going to town any longer and made a quick two-stop trip yesterday.  I went earlier than usual (I normally put it off as long as possible) because I stopped at Camille's on the way out to drop off some potato salad and hot dogs in case she didn't feel like cooking.

There was little to no traffic on the road, going or coming.  Sure made for a more pleasant trip.

The air quality was still poor, but finally there were real clouds in the sky last evening.

It was a good day.

Thursday, July 5, 2018

The Fourth

When she appears (as she did again yesterday), Missy is such a sociable little girl.  She "helps" me get Inga's bowl ready and asks for and receives a bit of loving, and then we go together to the back section to get her breakfast.  When her bowl is full, she dives in, but still wants a few more pets before summarily dismissing me.  "Thank you, hooman, your work here is done."

I'd put in a call to Go-To the day before and left a message, explaining the leaky faucet situation and that it was not, repeat not, an emergency.  GT is an avid fisherman and I assumed he'd be spending time at one of the lakes for the holiday, so was surprised to get his call as soon as I got back up from the barn yesterday.  GT lives one hill over to the north of me and his mother lives one hill to the south.  He had a chore to do for his mom, and said he'd stop by here on his way back.  I sure wasn't going to say no.  It must have been a quick chore because he and his youngest son were here within an hour.  I'd made a lucky guess on the faucet I'd bought (what do I know about these things?), because it was the right size.  Ta da!  Son was in training and did the muscle work while Go-To supervised and did the fetch-and-carry.  The job was done in no time at all, and not a drip in sight.  I was Go-To's first customer when he started his own business, and it's pretty neat to get a big hug from a friend (and Son!) when the work is done.

What would the Fourth of July be without watching "Yankee Doodle Dandy" (1942, James Cagney, Joan Leslie, Walter Huston)?  Darn near unAmerican!  Cagney is known for his gangster roles, but he was a song-and-dance man first and foremost, and made the most of George M. Cohan's oh-so-patriotic music.  The movie almost made up for not flying the flag.

It was a good day.

Wednesday, July 4, 2018

Oh Say Can You See?

I guess, for the first time in I can't remember when, I won't be flying our flag on the Fourth of July.  I don't want another debacle trying to get it down like the last time.  Francis Scott Key will be so disappointed.

Piddly chores were all that got done yesterday, not because of the heat, but because of the poor air quality.  Smoke from the wildfires blankets the valley and has pushed its way up here and it's hard to breathe.  I planned to make a run into town, but remembered  that Truck needed gas, so cheated and picked up a few things at the feed store instead while filling the tank.  I also had to get a new faucet for the water pipe out by the chicken-less pen.  No matter how hard I turn it, the old one keeps dripping, and that just won't do.  Not only is it a waste of precious water, it also ups the electricity bill (it takes power to run the pump).  I'll put in a call to Go-To after the holiday to install the new faucet.  I can only imagine the disaster if I were to try to do that myself.

The best news yesterday was that Cam got home.  I know that there were three very happy, happy dogs at her house.

I can see (by dawn's early light) that the smoke has already backed up against the hills and I can taste it.  I hope that everyone up here obeys the ban on fireworks in the county.  Smoke is bad enough, we don't need a fire to go with it.

Tuesday, July 3, 2018

Lost And Found

Setting up for Inga's breakfast prior to bringing her in yesterday, suddenly I was joined by Missy!  She appeared out of nowhere without a sound.  I hadn't seen hide nor hair of her for days and days.  In fact, I'd pretty well decided that she had moved on, if not to greener pastures, perhaps to a mousier barn.  I'd continued to put down kibble and some days the bowl would be empty, but I could not be sure if Missy and I were just on different schedules or if some ground squirrel (there's been evidence that they're back) was starting to purr from the change in diet.  At any rate, it was so nice to see my little waif again.  Missy must have had a rough start in life as she seems to have stunted growth; she never gets any bigger.

It was the day for the lost to be found.  I can't remember the last time I'd seen Waldo, well over a month, for sure.  Black and white piglets are scattered through the house, but no sign of pink Waldo, Celeste's favorite.  Going past the stairwell yesterday, I glanced down and there he was on the steps!  I did a double take just to make sure.  Yep, it was Waldo.  I don't know if Celeste had him stashed safely somewhere all this time or if Ralph had been playing a mean trick on his sister.  I'll never get the full story, but I do like happy endings.

Monday, July 2, 2018

The Early Bird

The saying goes, "The early bird catches the worm," but I've yet to catch any and  I seem to be the only early bird around here.  There might be a bluejay or two just getting up when I go out in the morning, but the turkeys haven't yet caught on to the summer feeding schedule and none are waiting in the buffet line under the oak.  Getting to the barn by 7 (7:30 if I dawdle) sure makes the job easier on me, and the goats, as well.  Those lazybones turkeys are beginning to gather by the time I'm coming back to the house; they're not about to miss a meal.

Yesterday was one of the hottest yet, and I had DVRd several programs to watch on such a day, knowing I'd not get much done.  PBS is my go-to channel for quality productions.  I sat enthralled and watched "Ellis Island: The Dream Of America," with a beautiful score composed by Peter Boyer performed by the Pacific Symphony, and spoken excerpts from letters written by actual immigrants arriving in America in the early 1900s up to 1940.  People sacrificed everything and endured such hardship to come to the land of Lady Liberty to find opportunity and to flee war, oppression, and poverty.  Yes, there was vetting, and no, not everyone was accepted, but there were no border walls and families were not torn apart.  I truly try to avoid politics in The View, but I was moved to tears by the contrast between "then" and "now."

Bowyer had a rough start, but came forward to place fifth at the end of yesterday's race.  It absolutely astounded me to see that temperatures inside the cars were sometimes over 150 degrees!  That's just insane.  Drivers were pouring water over themselves at pit stops and getting bags of ice to tuck in their suits.  It was said that the guys could lose up to eight pounds during a race.  (And I complain when it gets to 90.  Wuss.)

I filled Bessie's pool.  She didn't go in, but used it like a huge water dish and stopped by for a drink every time she went outside.

Sun's up.  Time to get a jump on the day.

Sunday, July 1, 2018

Just Another Day

Not much changes here but the weather.  Days sort of slide by, one much like the other.  It's important to remember when Tuesday rolls around so I get the trash down to the big road for pick up.  Weekends are not a break from barn chores, but Mondays aren't to be dreaded, either.  I do, however, enjoy all the cooking shows on Saturdays.  I get inspiration to try new dishes or put a twist on an old favorite, or I'll see a recipe and think, "Not on a bet would I put that in my mouth."  Those programs are as good a way as any to while away a day.

Sundays, of course, are reserved for NASCAR.  Today they're racing at Chicagoland Speedway.

Camille called in the afternoon, concerned because she'd not been able to contact the current caregivers.  It was a good excuse for me to put Bess in the truck, turn on the A/C, and go down to take a look-see.  I was happy to report back that the chickens were out in the pen where they should be, the donkeys were walking around, and the dogs were safe in the backyard.  It set her mind at ease.

It's hard to believe it's July first already.  If the days slide by, the months fly!