Which of us has not, at one time or another, gone into a room with a specific purpose in mind and then wondered why we were in there? It evidently happens with dogs, too. Good ol' girl that she is, Bess Anne never asks for very much: three treats every morning, two cookies from the feed store, and to be by my side at all times. Oh, she will go out alone for a potty run, but that never takes long.(frequent, maybe, but not long). I mentioned not long ago that I got concerned because one morning Bessie didn't come right in after feeding the goats, and found her still watching and waiting for me to come up. Last evening at sunset I put the girls in their rooms and came back to the house as usual. Bess was off somewhere doing who knows what. It started getting dark and she still didn't show up. After awhile it felt like my heard was on a swivel as I looked at the front door and then the other door to the living room. Okay, now I'm worried. It wasn't quite dark enough to need the flashlight I'd grabbed just to be ready. I walked the driveway first, and that was a good thing because there she was at the head of the path to the barn, looking both ways and totally confused. Maybe it's a case of Doggyheimers or her eyesight, but there was some furious tail wagging when I touched her side and pointed her toward home. "Oh, gosh, Mom, for awhile there I thought you were lost!" Believe me, I won't come up to the house from now on unless I know she's headed there with me.
The other day I heard a thump on the picture window and got up to look. Sure enough, another hummer had hit the glass. I went out and picked up the tiny creature. I never know if they've broken their neck or just knocked themselves silly, but I know that hummers quickly lose body heat if not in motion. This little female sat still in my hand, but her head was up so I was hopeful. We sat like that for a few minutes while she regained her senses, and then she took off like a jet plane.
I like happy endings.
Friday, August 31, 2018
Thursday, August 30, 2018
True To Form
Nothing if not consistent, yesterday was a day off. The best I could do was put the servants to work. Hanging laundry on another gorgeous day was not considered a chore; it's still one of my most favorite jobs. There was just enough breeze to provide the music to set the bibbies and shirts dancing. There are no fabric softeners or dryer sheets that can beat the scent of sun-dried clothes fresh off the line.
I really don't mind washing dishes by hand, either. There is something almost sensuous about the feel of soapy warm water. It is almost mandatory to have a window to look out, though. The job always goes much faster than anticipated when one can see birds, sky, trees changing with the seasons, and whatever might be growing at the time (even weeds). I've only ever lived in one place that didn't have a window over the sink, a place I was not unhappy to leave. Since I do have a dishwasher, it only makes sense to use it, but it takes a while to fill when I only use one or two dishes a day, and I don't run it semi-empty. It is quite satisfying to put clean plates and glasses that I didn't wash back in the cupboard.
Yesterday Emmy commented on the song "My Time Of Day" from the 1950 musical "Guys And Dolls," referring to the dark of morning. We are of a like mind. As a kid, I never understood why, no matter how early I got up my mother was always awake. There is no earthly reason why I should get up now anywhere between 3:30-5 a.m., other than that is "my time." I love seeing the sky lighten and hear birds waking up outside. There is a neighborhood rooster, however, who needs a few lessons on how to crow. The best he can manage is cock-a doooo, never getting to the doodle-do. Once the sun comes up and I get dressed, it's time to gear up for the goats and whatever else the day might bring. "My time" is over.
I really don't mind washing dishes by hand, either. There is something almost sensuous about the feel of soapy warm water. It is almost mandatory to have a window to look out, though. The job always goes much faster than anticipated when one can see birds, sky, trees changing with the seasons, and whatever might be growing at the time (even weeds). I've only ever lived in one place that didn't have a window over the sink, a place I was not unhappy to leave. Since I do have a dishwasher, it only makes sense to use it, but it takes a while to fill when I only use one or two dishes a day, and I don't run it semi-empty. It is quite satisfying to put clean plates and glasses that I didn't wash back in the cupboard.
Yesterday Emmy commented on the song "My Time Of Day" from the 1950 musical "Guys And Dolls," referring to the dark of morning. We are of a like mind. As a kid, I never understood why, no matter how early I got up my mother was always awake. There is no earthly reason why I should get up now anywhere between 3:30-5 a.m., other than that is "my time." I love seeing the sky lighten and hear birds waking up outside. There is a neighborhood rooster, however, who needs a few lessons on how to crow. The best he can manage is cock-a doooo, never getting to the doodle-do. Once the sun comes up and I get dressed, it's time to gear up for the goats and whatever else the day might bring. "My time" is over.
Wednesday, August 29, 2018
Halfway House
It is said that "half a slice is better than none" (unless it is a slice of lemon meringue pie, in which case I want the whole dang thing!). I'm hoping that half a house vacuumed will pass for the time being. At least I think I've avoided having a "This property is condemned" sign posted by getting the living room spiffed up. I might have gone further, but the vacuum rebelled, overheated, and quit on me. I left the cantankerous critter in the dining room to contemplate its failings and get an idea of what's ahead.
The year is a little more than halfway over. Autumn begins in a couple of days. The weather this summer has been so unusual. I'm reminded of the 1921 song, :"Ain't We Got Fun?" "The rich get rich and the poor get poorer," but in this case, it is "the hot gets hotter and the cool gets cooler." As sweltering as some weeks have been, we've had a number of breaks in which, like yesterday, it barely got up to 80. I'll take it! The nights lately have been blessedly cool. If I needed any proof, the cats are once again lying on my feet or cuddled up close in bed. The air quality has vastly improved. Even Bessie Anne was affected when the smoke was bad and developed a cough that is now easing up.
As far as the year goes, we've touched third and we're headed toward home. Hopefully we'll get enough rain that I can complain about that. I need some new material.
The year is a little more than halfway over. Autumn begins in a couple of days. The weather this summer has been so unusual. I'm reminded of the 1921 song, :"Ain't We Got Fun?" "The rich get rich and the poor get poorer," but in this case, it is "the hot gets hotter and the cool gets cooler." As sweltering as some weeks have been, we've had a number of breaks in which, like yesterday, it barely got up to 80. I'll take it! The nights lately have been blessedly cool. If I needed any proof, the cats are once again lying on my feet or cuddled up close in bed. The air quality has vastly improved. Even Bessie Anne was affected when the smoke was bad and developed a cough that is now easing up.
As far as the year goes, we've touched third and we're headed toward home. Hopefully we'll get enough rain that I can complain about that. I need some new material.
Tuesday, August 28, 2018
Battleground
Yesterday did not go quite as planned. When do they ever, and why do I bother? With the death of Senator John McCain, I ended up watching tributes to and the history of an American hero all day long. The vacuum cleaner stands at the ready, furniture polish sits on the coffee table, and I sat glued to my chair.
I have my own memories of the tragedy that was Vietnam, selfishly grateful that my sons were too young to be involved. I better remember the World War II years as I was growing up. I had no brothers, but every male cousin was sent overseas, and my sister met her future husband while he was in the Navy then. My father was a soldier during WW I, a Texas farm boy who was sent to France. The Kids' dad did his tour of duty in Korea. Dave was in the Navy on a ship off the Iranian coast while the hostages were being held there. Once again, I am grateful that my boys are now past the age of being sent to the Middle East. We don't seem to be able to learn from history.
I am waging a battle of my own here, and fear I'm losing. Since I no longer have chickens and the goat chow is kept down at the goat barn, there is nothing in the feed shed for the resident rats and ground squirrels to eat. Rather than moving on down the road to sponge off someone else, the boogers have started in on the alfalfa, burrowing into the bales and tearing apart the flakes, wasting food and making one helluva mess. It's so easy to pull off a flake or two to toss to the girls, and extremely difficult to scoop up enough loose stuff to haul to the pen. Alfalfa is expensive, almost twenty dollars a bale now, and to have it wasted like this is like sending money up in smoke.
Hold the good thought for Camille, who is in Houston preparing to undergo treatment to battle cancer. Makes my troubles pretty picayune.
Dust rag in hand, once again I will take on the unending fight against the demon dust today. Or not.
I have my own memories of the tragedy that was Vietnam, selfishly grateful that my sons were too young to be involved. I better remember the World War II years as I was growing up. I had no brothers, but every male cousin was sent overseas, and my sister met her future husband while he was in the Navy then. My father was a soldier during WW I, a Texas farm boy who was sent to France. The Kids' dad did his tour of duty in Korea. Dave was in the Navy on a ship off the Iranian coast while the hostages were being held there. Once again, I am grateful that my boys are now past the age of being sent to the Middle East. We don't seem to be able to learn from history.
I am waging a battle of my own here, and fear I'm losing. Since I no longer have chickens and the goat chow is kept down at the goat barn, there is nothing in the feed shed for the resident rats and ground squirrels to eat. Rather than moving on down the road to sponge off someone else, the boogers have started in on the alfalfa, burrowing into the bales and tearing apart the flakes, wasting food and making one helluva mess. It's so easy to pull off a flake or two to toss to the girls, and extremely difficult to scoop up enough loose stuff to haul to the pen. Alfalfa is expensive, almost twenty dollars a bale now, and to have it wasted like this is like sending money up in smoke.
Hold the good thought for Camille, who is in Houston preparing to undergo treatment to battle cancer. Makes my troubles pretty picayune.
Dust rag in hand, once again I will take on the unending fight against the demon dust today. Or not.
Monday, August 27, 2018
Good Job
"Our work here is done." Last week there were at least fifty to sixty vultures in the tree and on the ground in the pen. The cleanup committee (and committee is the term for a group of vultures on the ground) had been called to order. I'll have to admit it was a rather macabre sight when so many were perched silent and still on the branches of the bare tree like Halloween decorations. The whump-whump of their wings when they took to the air as I approached was awesome. That's about the only sound vultures make, as they lack developed vocal cords. Yesterday there were only the five or six regulars still hanging around in the tree. It had taken these impressive birds about four days to completely dispose of
Inga's remains. She continued to serve in death as she had in life. Good job all around.
Wow! What a difference in just one day. Goes to show what happens when a good strong delta wind blows through. It was grand to hear the leaves rustling in the oaks again.
Bess asked to go outside very, very early this morning. The full moon was so bright that I didn't need to turn on the porch light for her. She came in and promptly went back to sleep. I didn't. I see a nap in my future today.
It was a good day.
Bess asked to go outside very, very early this morning. The full moon was so bright that I didn't need to turn on the porch light for her. She came in and promptly went back to sleep. I didn't. I see a nap in my future today.
It was a good day.
Sunday, August 26, 2018
Party Animals
I wish I could have gotten a picture of Celeste and Bessie Anne together yesterday, but the action was too fast. They were looking out the front door when a lizard crawled across the screen on the outside in front of them. I won't say that Lizard was deliberately taunting them, but it would go up the screen, Celeste would leap at it. Lizard would go down and to the side and Bessie would bonk with her nose. Celeste made several attempts and then Bess shouldered the cat aside, "I got this!" Lizard finally got tired of the game and went on about his business. Sometimes it's like living in a live-action cartoon.
I've been watching the news morning and night, following the track of Hurricane Lane toward Hawaii. Larry assured me daily that he was okay, and I was ever so grateful that Lane veered away before doing damage to Oahu. The flooding on the island of Hawaii was devastating, and Maui got hit pretty hard.
The sun isn't up yet this morning and the kids are sleeping, undoubtedly resting up so they can party on today. Wahoo!
Saturday, August 25, 2018
Gone To Pot
It makes me sad to look out on my deck and see all those pots filled with dead plants. When we first looked at the house some 20 years ago, the deck was entirely barren and I thought it just cried out to be filled with flowers. I brought a number of plants, flowers and herbs from the old house when we moved and went to work. I was a habitue of every nursery in the P'ville area. While there were a number of perennials, especially several varieties of lavender and a couple of crepe myrtles, the color of the annuals changed year to year. Sometimes the theme was bright reds and yellows and sometimes blues and purples. The deck was especially beautiful for Deb and Craig's wedding when my friend Dolly and I filled every pot to overflowing with white flowers.
Well, no more. What with several years of drought and the need to conserve well water, the plants started dying off. What hadn't croaked from lack of water was finished off by Robert the Raider and his gang of thugs. There's nothing left alive out there now. On a trip to town yesterday, several people in Wally World passed by pushing carts filled with colorful flowers. I was so tempted, but one (or more) of Robert's young cohorts run the deck daily, checking to see if there were a green morsel or two left. I can't see spending money just to watch it go down some squirrel's gullet. The view off the deck is still spectacular. On the deck, not s'much. The pots look like the headstones in a graveyard. Sad.
Well, no more. What with several years of drought and the need to conserve well water, the plants started dying off. What hadn't croaked from lack of water was finished off by Robert the Raider and his gang of thugs. There's nothing left alive out there now. On a trip to town yesterday, several people in Wally World passed by pushing carts filled with colorful flowers. I was so tempted, but one (or more) of Robert's young cohorts run the deck daily, checking to see if there were a green morsel or two left. I can't see spending money just to watch it go down some squirrel's gullet. The view off the deck is still spectacular. On the deck, not s'much. The pots look like the headstones in a graveyard. Sad.
Friday, August 24, 2018
Foiled
Bwahaha! If I were the villain in an old-time melodrama, I would be twirling the ends of my big moustache and cackling with glee, saying, "Foiled again, m'dears!"
The rats moved out after the Dynamic Duo cleaned the first shed and I was not, repeat not!, sorry to see them go. However, once the bullies had gone, the mice moved back in. I've always had a pretty good relationship with mice, but this bunch overstepped the bounds. The birdseed is kept in that shed. It was not a surprise that sharp little teeth chewed a hole in the lid of the seed barrel nor to find some of the kids in there, too full from breakfast to make their way out again. I'm used to reasonable sharing. I wasn't too pleased when the critters chewed an even bigger hole for easier access in the rim of the barrel, but yesterday I found they'd gone too far and had made an opening at the bottom. If they were going to freeload, the least they could do was expend a little energy. Now they could just lie on the floor and let the birdseed come to them. Too much, I say! Enough!
There was a metal trash can in the feed barn that had been used for chicken scratch (when I had chickens). Dave had delivered the leftover scratch to Camille and I thought he'd left the can with her, but later found he'd brought it back. Perfect! I transferred the remaining seed (there wasn't much left) and a new bag to the metal can I moved to the shed. Take that, you tiny rodents! Bwahaha!
It was a good day.
The rats moved out after the Dynamic Duo cleaned the first shed and I was not, repeat not!, sorry to see them go. However, once the bullies had gone, the mice moved back in. I've always had a pretty good relationship with mice, but this bunch overstepped the bounds. The birdseed is kept in that shed. It was not a surprise that sharp little teeth chewed a hole in the lid of the seed barrel nor to find some of the kids in there, too full from breakfast to make their way out again. I'm used to reasonable sharing. I wasn't too pleased when the critters chewed an even bigger hole for easier access in the rim of the barrel, but yesterday I found they'd gone too far and had made an opening at the bottom. If they were going to freeload, the least they could do was expend a little energy. Now they could just lie on the floor and let the birdseed come to them. Too much, I say! Enough!
There was a metal trash can in the feed barn that had been used for chicken scratch (when I had chickens). Dave had delivered the leftover scratch to Camille and I thought he'd left the can with her, but later found he'd brought it back. Perfect! I transferred the remaining seed (there wasn't much left) and a new bag to the metal can I moved to the shed. Take that, you tiny rodents! Bwahaha!
It was a good day.
Thursday, August 23, 2018
Poleaxed
Lost time is just that, gone for good, and most of yesterday was lost. It's very unusual for me not to sleep well, but the night before I'd been up nearly every hour on the hour. There were all sorts of chores lined out for the day and I'd even gotten a start on a few, but then decided to have a sit-down and that was that. It was as if I'd been poleaxed, I went out so fast and so hard. Cam called twice, the phone is right beside my chair, and I never heard it. One cannot make up for lost time, but evidently one can make up for lost sleep.
A day spent napping results in a blog-fodder diet with mighty slim pickings to offer. Since I've not been bitten by a tsetse fly, I'll stay awake and try to do better all around today.
A day spent napping results in a blog-fodder diet with mighty slim pickings to offer. Since I've not been bitten by a tsetse fly, I'll stay awake and try to do better all around today.
Wednesday, August 22, 2018
Push-button Day
Back in the day when the Kids' dad and I were dating, he traded in his well-worn Oldsmobile on a brand-new 1956 Plymouth hardtop with push-button drive (instead of a gear lever). That took some getting used to, as I had learned to drive with "three on the tree." When my daughter showed me her new car some time back, I saw that almost everything was operated with buttons. What was old is new again. Truck has an automatic shift, and that's about as newfangled as I want to get.
I am enamored, however, with the buttons on the TV remote control. There was a time when I was remote challenged, probably because Steve never let it out of his hands. Now I'm a real whiz with that dohickey, the mute and fast-forward buttons in particular, and pause coming in a close third. They save me from watching or listening to the interminable and oh-so-irritating commercials. They got a good workout yesterday as I cleared space on the recorded files.
While the day was certainly cooler, the A/C still felt good when Bessie and I went down to the feed store, and later to take the trash to the big road, our big outings for the day.
Somebody must have dropped the "go!" flag. Not visible from the path, suddenly on my way down last evening a dark cloud of well over fifty vultures swirled up into the sky from behind the barn. The cleanup committee had finally gone to work.
I am enamored, however, with the buttons on the TV remote control. There was a time when I was remote challenged, probably because Steve never let it out of his hands. Now I'm a real whiz with that dohickey, the mute and fast-forward buttons in particular, and pause coming in a close third. They save me from watching or listening to the interminable and oh-so-irritating commercials. They got a good workout yesterday as I cleared space on the recorded files.
While the day was certainly cooler, the A/C still felt good when Bessie and I went down to the feed store, and later to take the trash to the big road, our big outings for the day.
Somebody must have dropped the "go!" flag. Not visible from the path, suddenly on my way down last evening a dark cloud of well over fifty vultures swirled up into the sky from behind the barn. The cleanup committee had finally gone to work.
Tuesday, August 21, 2018
Cool!
"In The Cool, Cool, Cool Of The Evening," Bing Crosby and Jane Wyman, 1951.
I can't remember the last time I slept in until 6 a.m. and it was a bit startling to open my eyes to first light outside today. It was undoubtedly because, for the first time in what seems like forever, it actually cooled off last night. I don't think I turned over in bed even once.
The heat has been wicked and we're still plagued with smoke, but last night gives one hope. Given that it was the boys helping and not Beau with one of his tractors, Inga didn't get hauled too far from the barn. Let's just say that yesterday she was getting pretty pungent. The cleanup committee was gathering (about 30 up in the tree), but had not yet gone to work. I see latecomers flying in this morning, ready to clock in.
Yesterday was a one full spray-bottle day and not much if anything got done. I don't even try to make excuses anymore. I sit, period.
It seems like only a little over a week ago that I worked on the house before the guys came up. While doing nothing yesterday, I noticed that the living room needs dusting again. What's up with that? When a thing is done, it should stay done! Sigh.
I can't remember the last time I slept in until 6 a.m. and it was a bit startling to open my eyes to first light outside today. It was undoubtedly because, for the first time in what seems like forever, it actually cooled off last night. I don't think I turned over in bed even once.
The heat has been wicked and we're still plagued with smoke, but last night gives one hope. Given that it was the boys helping and not Beau with one of his tractors, Inga didn't get hauled too far from the barn. Let's just say that yesterday she was getting pretty pungent. The cleanup committee was gathering (about 30 up in the tree), but had not yet gone to work. I see latecomers flying in this morning, ready to clock in.
Yesterday was a one full spray-bottle day and not much if anything got done. I don't even try to make excuses anymore. I sit, period.
It seems like only a little over a week ago that I worked on the house before the guys came up. While doing nothing yesterday, I noticed that the living room needs dusting again. What's up with that? When a thing is done, it should stay done! Sigh.
Monday, August 20, 2018
Me And My Gal
"For Me And My Gal," 1917 song, 1942 movie with Judy Garland and Gene Kelly.
Bessie Anne and I are never far apart. She's okay with it if I go to the store or leave for the day, knowing that, as I always tell her, "I'll be back." She follows me from room to room throughout the day. Even when she's sound asleep behind Stove, if I get up, say, to go to the bathroom, she quietly appears in the doorway. Once in awhile, if she's particularly tired, she'll stay behind if I go out to tend the goats, but not often. All this being said, yesterday morning we went out together. With just the two girls now, barn chores didn't take long and I was back in the house in no time. After a short while, Bess had still not come to the door. Hmmm, wonder what she's doing. I waited a little longer...no Bess. After the event of the day before, this was a bit worrisome, and I went out to look for my companion. Whew! There she was in the front yard, patiently waiting and watching for me to come out of the barn. She's almost totally deaf and half blind, so didn't hear me come up behind her and was surprised at my touch. "Oh, there you are! How did you do that?" We went back in the house together.
In the afternoon, Helper Dude came to give Bessie a pedicure. It's not her favorite procedure, but she does like the attention and the treats that come with it. After he'd finished, we all went out to the porch to enjoy the bit of breeze that had sprung up and talk. Dude started working odd jobs here when he was fifteen. He's twenty now and is in the process of application for the El Dorado County Sheriff's Department for next year when he's twenty-one. How time does fly.
Bess and I put the girls to bed last evening and came back in together. She's lying with her head on my foot right now. She's my Gal.
Bessie Anne and I are never far apart. She's okay with it if I go to the store or leave for the day, knowing that, as I always tell her, "I'll be back." She follows me from room to room throughout the day. Even when she's sound asleep behind Stove, if I get up, say, to go to the bathroom, she quietly appears in the doorway. Once in awhile, if she's particularly tired, she'll stay behind if I go out to tend the goats, but not often. All this being said, yesterday morning we went out together. With just the two girls now, barn chores didn't take long and I was back in the house in no time. After a short while, Bess had still not come to the door. Hmmm, wonder what she's doing. I waited a little longer...no Bess. After the event of the day before, this was a bit worrisome, and I went out to look for my companion. Whew! There she was in the front yard, patiently waiting and watching for me to come out of the barn. She's almost totally deaf and half blind, so didn't hear me come up behind her and was surprised at my touch. "Oh, there you are! How did you do that?" We went back in the house together.
In the afternoon, Helper Dude came to give Bessie a pedicure. It's not her favorite procedure, but she does like the attention and the treats that come with it. After he'd finished, we all went out to the porch to enjoy the bit of breeze that had sprung up and talk. Dude started working odd jobs here when he was fifteen. He's twenty now and is in the process of application for the El Dorado County Sheriff's Department for next year when he's twenty-one. How time does fly.
Bess and I put the girls to bed last evening and came back in together. She's lying with her head on my foot right now. She's my Gal.
Sunday, August 19, 2018
And Then There Were Two
All the way down to the barn yesterday I kept saying, "Please don't be dead. Please don't be dead," but she was. Good old girl. While it's hard to be happy, I'm glad that Inga did not linger and suffer in her last days. I called Beau, who was on the road traveling somewhere, but he suggested calling the boys. I hadn't considered them, thinking they were too young to deal with the situation. However, I called their mom, who said she'd send them down. Their father soon arrived with Kid and Brother. Dad supervised and lent some muscle when required, but the Dynamic Duo soon had taken care of the job. I just stayed out of their way. They left with my effusive thanks and a little extra pay for coming in an emergency.
"And Then There Were None," is one of my all-time favorite films, made from an Agatha Christie novel, and the original movie is the best. 1945, starring Barry Fitzgerald, Walter Huston, and Louis Hayward, it is a mystery that can still keep me enthralled. The title comes from an 1868 nursery rhyme in which, for one reason or another, ten little Indians go one by one until there were none. I wonder if Sheila and Tessie will miss Inga as much as I.
If I were going to rob a bank, now would be the time. The finger joint that was stabbed by the wasp is so swollen that the fingerprint is obliterated. It's a good thing I have no criminal tendencies.
Bedtime for the girls was a lonely business last evening. And then there were two.
"And Then There Were None," is one of my all-time favorite films, made from an Agatha Christie novel, and the original movie is the best. 1945, starring Barry Fitzgerald, Walter Huston, and Louis Hayward, it is a mystery that can still keep me enthralled. The title comes from an 1868 nursery rhyme in which, for one reason or another, ten little Indians go one by one until there were none. I wonder if Sheila and Tessie will miss Inga as much as I.
If I were going to rob a bank, now would be the time. The finger joint that was stabbed by the wasp is so swollen that the fingerprint is obliterated. It's a good thing I have no criminal tendencies.
Bedtime for the girls was a lonely business last evening. And then there were two.
Saturday, August 18, 2018
Not Yet
Ah, well, some days are like that. What with the heat that landed with a thud yesterday, I'm still waiting to finish vacuuming. Of course, I'm still waiting for Cam to show up for dinner, too. She's been exceptionally busy and stressed while trying to figure out phase two and make arrangements for the next stage of her cancer treatment, so she gets a pass.
Bess was panting loudly in the afternoon. I could hear her over the phfft-phfft of my spray bottle. It was time to take her out and hose her down. Normally I leave the hose stretched out, but the fellas had, with all good intentions, rolled it up on the hose reel. There was evidently a kink in there somewhere because next to no water was coming out and the reel was stuck. I was struggling, Bessie was waiting, and suddenly something stuck a red-hot needle in my finger. What the heck?! That was when I saw the wasp coming in for a second attack. The reason I don't roll up the hose is because I know wasps like to build secret nests behind the reel. Bess and I made a quick retreat to the house before the Red Baron could rally his allies. I haven't gone back yet, but I will in the cool (relatively speaking) of the morning and spray the bejeezus out of them.
Come evening, my heart sank when there were only two goats waiting for me. I couldn't see Inga anywhere. I tucked Sheila and Tessie in, and then saw Inga in the big pen under the oak. Her head was up, but she wasn't standing. Walking out to her, I could hear her making what can best be described as moaning. Oh crum. What to do? I really didn't want to leave her out because of the wild things. Bear and bobcats have repeatedly been reported in the neighborhood. She struggled to her feet, helping make the decision. Inga wears a collar, so I could guide her back to the barn with many stops to let her rest and catch her breath. It was a hard choice because, if she dies in the night I'm going to have to ask for help to get her out of the barn and just hope one of the guys is available. At least she has the security of her own room.
I know it's coming, but I'm not ready yet.
Bess was panting loudly in the afternoon. I could hear her over the phfft-phfft of my spray bottle. It was time to take her out and hose her down. Normally I leave the hose stretched out, but the fellas had, with all good intentions, rolled it up on the hose reel. There was evidently a kink in there somewhere because next to no water was coming out and the reel was stuck. I was struggling, Bessie was waiting, and suddenly something stuck a red-hot needle in my finger. What the heck?! That was when I saw the wasp coming in for a second attack. The reason I don't roll up the hose is because I know wasps like to build secret nests behind the reel. Bess and I made a quick retreat to the house before the Red Baron could rally his allies. I haven't gone back yet, but I will in the cool (relatively speaking) of the morning and spray the bejeezus out of them.
Come evening, my heart sank when there were only two goats waiting for me. I couldn't see Inga anywhere. I tucked Sheila and Tessie in, and then saw Inga in the big pen under the oak. Her head was up, but she wasn't standing. Walking out to her, I could hear her making what can best be described as moaning. Oh crum. What to do? I really didn't want to leave her out because of the wild things. Bear and bobcats have repeatedly been reported in the neighborhood. She struggled to her feet, helping make the decision. Inga wears a collar, so I could guide her back to the barn with many stops to let her rest and catch her breath. It was a hard choice because, if she dies in the night I'm going to have to ask for help to get her out of the barn and just hope one of the guys is available. At least she has the security of her own room.
I know it's coming, but I'm not ready yet.
Friday, August 17, 2018
Dear Hearts
After a couple of welcome half-bottle days, yesterday we were back to a full spray bottle to try to cool down. I'm only good for a couple of chores a day when it gets hot. I've invited Camille for dinner tonight. One, for her company and, two, as an incentive to get the vacuuming done. I am definitely one of those carrot-and-stick people...look at all was accomplished before the fellas came up.
I never know where the coin is going to drop in the jukebox in my mind. Get a few years under your belt and the choices are infinite. Last evening I had a chance to catch up with a cousin up in Eureka. I haven't seen her for years, but the woman never changes. Whenever we speak, I hear "Dear Hearts and Gentle People," a song from 1949 sung by Bob Crosby, brother to Bing. I remember her mother and sister, and that apple didn't fall far from the tree.
Every family has one, that Kid who can't have a picture taken without making a silly face. Larry, the son in Hawaii, recently posted a photo, once again sticking out his tongue. I dug through my archives and was able to retaliate with this picture of Ruth. Perfect!
I don't know what got into Bess this morning. What with age and heat, she's been pretty sedentary lately. After going out to go potty, I heard her come back and go running (running!!) around the deck for a couple of laps. Now she's sound asleep behind my chair, undoubtedly exhausted.
The sunset wasn't necessarily spectacular last evening, but the blue sky was.
It was a good day.
I never know where the coin is going to drop in the jukebox in my mind. Get a few years under your belt and the choices are infinite. Last evening I had a chance to catch up with a cousin up in Eureka. I haven't seen her for years, but the woman never changes. Whenever we speak, I hear "Dear Hearts and Gentle People," a song from 1949 sung by Bob Crosby, brother to Bing. I remember her mother and sister, and that apple didn't fall far from the tree.
I don't know what got into Bess this morning. What with age and heat, she's been pretty sedentary lately. After going out to go potty, I heard her come back and go running (running!!) around the deck for a couple of laps. Now she's sound asleep behind my chair, undoubtedly exhausted.
It was a good day.
Thursday, August 16, 2018
Sock It To Me
So far, so good with the critters. Inga seemed much improved and was on her feet morning and night. Bessie's paw is healed to the point she's no longer limping. Helper Dude is coming this weekend to trim her nails. The hummers are eating me out of house and home, and definitely out of sugar. They've gone through another 25-pound sack and I'm having to hit the house supply. The dadratted, dreaded dogs were out again last evening, but the girls evidently have decided the best way to avoid them is to go directly into the barn. Inga didn't wait for the others and made a dash to get to safety first. Even Tessie didn't dawdle.
As glad as I am to have the lines up again, there is a drawback. I have to remember to bring the clothes in at night.
Wednesday, August 15, 2018
Waiting Game
Poor old Bess. On Monday she began limping, and then gnawing at her paw. There wasn't much I could do for her because I still can't get down on my knees. I put in a text to Helper Dude asking if he were available to trim her nails (I almost said toenails, but then realized that's all she had), thinking he could also do something about the foxtail I suspected was in the pad of her foot. I still hadn't heard back, so in the evening when she came to lie close by my chair, I was able to lean over with a flashlight and tweezers to get a look. Sure enough, there was the offender between her toes and I was able to tweak it out. The damage had been done, however. All that chewing and licking had left the toe pad swollen and red. She was much better yesterday, but, like my knees, it's going to take time to heal.
Inga was lying down in her stall in the morning and reluctant to get up. With some gentle urging, she went out and immediately headed for the big pen to lie down under the big oak, not going up for alfalfa or water. I tended to Sheila and Tess, and Inga was in the same place when I left the barn. In late afternoon, Bess and I took the trash down to the big road and when we got back Inga had not moved, as far as I could tell, but her head was up Oh crum. Believe me, I really didn't want to go out at sundown, fearful for what I might find. There was such relief when all three noses were waiting for me in the usual corner.
It has cooled off the last couple of nights enough that I could pull the sheet over, something that Ralph has evidently been waiting for (me, too). I'd no more than settled down when I felt that feather-like pat on my arm. I lifted the sheet and Ralph immediately crawled into the cat cave. I missed you, too, Ralph.
Inga was lying down in her stall in the morning and reluctant to get up. With some gentle urging, she went out and immediately headed for the big pen to lie down under the big oak, not going up for alfalfa or water. I tended to Sheila and Tess, and Inga was in the same place when I left the barn. In late afternoon, Bess and I took the trash down to the big road and when we got back Inga had not moved, as far as I could tell, but her head was up Oh crum. Believe me, I really didn't want to go out at sundown, fearful for what I might find. There was such relief when all three noses were waiting for me in the usual corner.
It has cooled off the last couple of nights enough that I could pull the sheet over, something that Ralph has evidently been waiting for (me, too). I'd no more than settled down when I felt that feather-like pat on my arm. I lifted the sheet and Ralph immediately crawled into the cat cave. I missed you, too, Ralph.
Tuesday, August 14, 2018
Miss H. And Me
There's nothing like company to open your eyes. Before the fellas came up on Saturday, I was pretty pleased with my housekeeping accomplishments that morning, thinking that at least I wouldn't embarrass my son. Yeah, well. On do-nothing Sunday, I was looking at the swept and polished living room and noticed a big cobweb at the ceiling across the room. Oh, good grief. I hoped the guys were either too busy or too tired to look up.
Yesterday I dug the Webster, a tool specifically for cobwebs, out of the closet and went after that web. I found that Miss Haversham ("Great Expectations," Charles Dickens, 1861) and I have a lot in common. She was a recluse whose old mansion was festooned with cobwebs everywhere. I discovered that it wasn't just that one web in my house. It seems it isn't enough to just sweep the floors, and I went from room to room swiping down the bug catchers. The Webster really got a workout.
Inside the house is one thing, outside is quite another. I mentioned quite some time ago that I used to buy and hang fly strips in the barn until I realized that, if I quit sweeping down the cobwebs in there, I had a bounty of fly catchers in all rooms and for free. I'm not a person who is afraid of spiders, so it was no big deal. Out on the deck by the doors, there are webs big enough to trap a bat and I leave 'em. The proof of their efficiency is in the multitude of caught insects, bugs that otherwise would probably have come in the house. They may not be attractive, but I appreciate the help. Miss Haversham would approve.
There were no barking dogs last evening and bedtime was easy peasy. The girls went inside in a quick and orderly fashion, even Tessie. Whew.
Yesterday I dug the Webster, a tool specifically for cobwebs, out of the closet and went after that web. I found that Miss Haversham ("Great Expectations," Charles Dickens, 1861) and I have a lot in common. She was a recluse whose old mansion was festooned with cobwebs everywhere. I discovered that it wasn't just that one web in my house. It seems it isn't enough to just sweep the floors, and I went from room to room swiping down the bug catchers. The Webster really got a workout.
Inside the house is one thing, outside is quite another. I mentioned quite some time ago that I used to buy and hang fly strips in the barn until I realized that, if I quit sweeping down the cobwebs in there, I had a bounty of fly catchers in all rooms and for free. I'm not a person who is afraid of spiders, so it was no big deal. Out on the deck by the doors, there are webs big enough to trap a bat and I leave 'em. The proof of their efficiency is in the multitude of caught insects, bugs that otherwise would probably have come in the house. They may not be attractive, but I appreciate the help. Miss Haversham would approve.
There were no barking dogs last evening and bedtime was easy peasy. The girls went inside in a quick and orderly fashion, even Tessie. Whew.
Monday, August 13, 2018
True To Form
There is usually a dearth of blog fodder on Mondays because little to nothing happens on Sundays, especially after such a hyped up Saturday as I had this week. I so appreciate it when NASCAR runs on Sunday because it gives me a reason (not an excuse) to sit on my rusty dusty and do nothing for four hours. My most ambitious undertaking yesterday was refilling the hummingbird feeders, certainly nothing to write home about. Good grief, those tiny birds can really suck it down, drinking two quarts a day.
Sundown comes about 8:00 these days, a sign that the seasons are a'changing. My neighbor's doggone big guard dogs were running the fence line last evening, barking nonstop in their deep, scary voices. I never hear or see them during the day, and I don't know why they are periodically (too often as far as I'm concerned) let out at sunset, but it sure causes the goats to panic when they are. There are exceptions, but bedtime usually goes so smoothly, taking maybe 10 minutes or so. The girls have their own routine: Sheila goes in first, then Inga, and Tessie last. Boop, and we're done! Last evening chaos reigned. Nobody wanted to come in as the girls kept watching to see if the enemy was going to breach the fence. Finally Inga made a dash for the safety of her room. After several false starts, Sheila decided that if Inga could do it, she could, too. Great, two down and one to go. And then there was Tessie. I stood, I sat, I pretended I was going to shut the door and leave her outside, and nothing was working. Tessie would come to the door...and stop. She really tries my patience. Even after what seemed like forever and I heard the neighbors finally call the dogs in, Tessie was still spooked. The sun was down and it was getting dark by the time she gathered enough courage to come in. Whew!
That was enough excitement for a Sunday.
Sundown comes about 8:00 these days, a sign that the seasons are a'changing. My neighbor's doggone big guard dogs were running the fence line last evening, barking nonstop in their deep, scary voices. I never hear or see them during the day, and I don't know why they are periodically (too often as far as I'm concerned) let out at sunset, but it sure causes the goats to panic when they are. There are exceptions, but bedtime usually goes so smoothly, taking maybe 10 minutes or so. The girls have their own routine: Sheila goes in first, then Inga, and Tessie last. Boop, and we're done! Last evening chaos reigned. Nobody wanted to come in as the girls kept watching to see if the enemy was going to breach the fence. Finally Inga made a dash for the safety of her room. After several false starts, Sheila decided that if Inga could do it, she could, too. Great, two down and one to go. And then there was Tessie. I stood, I sat, I pretended I was going to shut the door and leave her outside, and nothing was working. Tessie would come to the door...and stop. She really tries my patience. Even after what seemed like forever and I heard the neighbors finally call the dogs in, Tessie was still spooked. The sun was down and it was getting dark by the time she gathered enough courage to come in. Whew!
That was enough excitement for a Sunday.
Sunday, August 12, 2018
Gratitude
It became clear to me yesterday that the remedy for my procrastination is pressure, pressure and panic. After a week of dawdling, even with reasonable excuses, it was coming down to the wire and I fired the afterburners. Not knowing exactly when the guys would get here, I started knocking down the to-do list and just kept going and was fairly well happy with the results.
Two trucks and four guys drove in about 11:30. I was surprised that the Freed Spirits hadn't ridden their motorcycles, and then noticed that both trucks were fully loaded with rounds of firewood. Wow! Dave, Jester, Stick, and a new guy, John (he hasn't been around long enough to be given a club name yet) climbed out with smiles, hugs, and even more goodies. When these guys give you a gift, that is with a capital G. It isn't enough that they gave the Gift of their time and effort, they also brought their own drinks and all the fixings for lunch. After a short break, these worker bees started in, not only on the chores I'd hoped to have help with, but a team started splitting those rounds. New clotheslines got put up, the chimney was swept, the gutters were cleaned, the woodpile was stacked high, omigosh, and I don't know what else. There was a bit of a break in that there was little to no smoke in the air, but it was in the 90s, hot by anyone's standards, and still they just kept going.
Dave brought everything, including marinated chicken and beef and condiments, for fajitas. My only contribution to the day was prepping the vegetables and cooking. (I didn't even have to go shopping!) That, and making sure everyone stayed hydrated.
The fellas were more than ready for a leisurely late lunch in the only room with A/C. It's always good to spend time with Bammer (Dave) and Jester. I haven't seen Stick in years, and it was nice to get acquainted with John. Without going into details, John presented me with a Ray's Warriors bracelet which I consider an honor.
The guys had worked so hard all day that I suggested they call it quits after lunch. They had accomplished mountains of work. There's no way I could fully express my gratitude.
It was a great day.
Two trucks and four guys drove in about 11:30. I was surprised that the Freed Spirits hadn't ridden their motorcycles, and then noticed that both trucks were fully loaded with rounds of firewood. Wow! Dave, Jester, Stick, and a new guy, John (he hasn't been around long enough to be given a club name yet) climbed out with smiles, hugs, and even more goodies. When these guys give you a gift, that is with a capital G. It isn't enough that they gave the Gift of their time and effort, they also brought their own drinks and all the fixings for lunch. After a short break, these worker bees started in, not only on the chores I'd hoped to have help with, but a team started splitting those rounds. New clotheslines got put up, the chimney was swept, the gutters were cleaned, the woodpile was stacked high, omigosh, and I don't know what else. There was a bit of a break in that there was little to no smoke in the air, but it was in the 90s, hot by anyone's standards, and still they just kept going.
The fellas were more than ready for a leisurely late lunch in the only room with A/C. It's always good to spend time with Bammer (Dave) and Jester. I haven't seen Stick in years, and it was nice to get acquainted with John. Without going into details, John presented me with a Ray's Warriors bracelet which I consider an honor.
The guys had worked so hard all day that I suggested they call it quits after lunch. They had accomplished mountains of work. There's no way I could fully express my gratitude.
It was a great day.
Saturday, August 11, 2018
Progress
Let's face it, I'm doomed. I did make some progress yesterday, but slowly and not nearly enough. Waking up at 3 a.m., to-do lists whirling through my head, only served to get me down to the barn earlier. I almost took a picture of the sky on the way back to the house. There was nothing there, nothing but blue overhead. Thick blanket of smoke over the valley and haze to the east, but true blue sky above. It's been so long since I've seen that. It didn't last. Trudging along, some things did get done in the house, but then heat and smoke descended, everything came to a screeching halt, and I took refuge in my escape; sleep.
I was still napping when Arden arrived for a visit. Nothing like a groggy hostess, I always say. We usually chat in the kitchen, but yesterday that would have been unkind (the kitchen is the hottest room in the house). There is a window A/C and a ceiling fan in the dining room, so I moved us in there for some relief and we did have a lovely visit. It's always good to spend time with my friend.
I'll see what progress I can make this morning, but I guess the fellas will have to take me as I am. If they weren't kind, they wouldn't be coming up in the first place, right?
I was still napping when Arden arrived for a visit. Nothing like a groggy hostess, I always say. We usually chat in the kitchen, but yesterday that would have been unkind (the kitchen is the hottest room in the house). There is a window A/C and a ceiling fan in the dining room, so I moved us in there for some relief and we did have a lovely visit. It's always good to spend time with my friend.
I'll see what progress I can make this morning, but I guess the fellas will have to take me as I am. If they weren't kind, they wouldn't be coming up in the first place, right?
Friday, August 10, 2018
Up And Moving
Both Inga and I are on our feet, albeit moving slowly. I'm always so glad when I count noses in the pen and can locate three. Not much got done yesterday. Okay, to be honest, other than feeding the animals, nothing got done. That cannot be the case today because the guys are coming up tomorrow. I know they're not coming to look at the house, but I still have a modicum of pride. I will be so glad to see them and grateful for their help, but I do worry that they plan to work outdoors in this heat and smoke. I don't want them falling over in a froth, but there doesn't appear to be any relief in sight.
The tom turkeys were waiting for their breakfast yesterday. This same bunch shows up nearly every morning and they're becoming tamer. They used to run a short distance away when I'd come out and only come to the grain when I'd start back up the path. Now they cluster at the feeding station and I darn near have to throw the seed on their heads. I haven't seen the mama turkey with her babies in quite some time and can only hope they survived.
Ralph tends to be an independent boy and goes his own way, but Celeste is a clingy cat and sometimes drives me bonkers. Between the heat and pain, the last thing I wanted yesterday was a hot, heavy cat on my lap, but she does not accept the word no. Boink! She'd pop up like a cork on water time after time. It was just easier to accept the situation than try to displace her, so we spent a good part of the day together. Good old Bessie Anne just kept moving from one spot in the room to another, trying to find somewhere cool. Good luck with that.
Onward and upward. I'd better get moving.
The tom turkeys were waiting for their breakfast yesterday. This same bunch shows up nearly every morning and they're becoming tamer. They used to run a short distance away when I'd come out and only come to the grain when I'd start back up the path. Now they cluster at the feeding station and I darn near have to throw the seed on their heads. I haven't seen the mama turkey with her babies in quite some time and can only hope they survived.
Ralph tends to be an independent boy and goes his own way, but Celeste is a clingy cat and sometimes drives me bonkers. Between the heat and pain, the last thing I wanted yesterday was a hot, heavy cat on my lap, but she does not accept the word no. Boink! She'd pop up like a cork on water time after time. It was just easier to accept the situation than try to displace her, so we spent a good part of the day together. Good old Bessie Anne just kept moving from one spot in the room to another, trying to find somewhere cool. Good luck with that.
Onward and upward. I'd better get moving.
Thursday, August 9, 2018
Excuses, Excuses
Given the weather, the smoke, and my natural inclination to do nothing (I do a lot of that), I didn't really need an excuse to sit on my duff all day yesterday. While taking the trash out of the truck and across to the big road the night before, I tripped and fell to my knees. With my hands full of bags, I had no way to block my fall and landed pretty hard on the gravel (insert expletive here). No blood and nothing broken, so I went on tending to business and the evening passed without further incident. While sitting at the computer yesterday morning, one knee became excruciatingly painful. What the heck?! When it was light enough to see, I discovered that just below the patella was an immensely swollen area, just beginning to turn black and blue. Oh, great. I had barn chores to do and, knowing Inga's condition, my mantra on the way down was "Please don't be dead, Inga. Please don't be dead." I didn't know how I could possibly get her out of her stall if she was. Bless her heart, she was up and on her feet and willingly came out of the barn on her own.
Back up at the house, I got an ice pack from the freezer, put the footrest up on the recliner, and pretty much stayed there all day. It wasn't so much an excuse as a reason, and I make no apologies (other than for clumsiness). A day's rest did wonders. The swelling is down and there is only residual pain this morning. I'll have to find another excuse to do nothing today.
Back up at the house, I got an ice pack from the freezer, put the footrest up on the recliner, and pretty much stayed there all day. It wasn't so much an excuse as a reason, and I make no apologies (other than for clumsiness). A day's rest did wonders. The swelling is down and there is only residual pain this morning. I'll have to find another excuse to do nothing today.
Wednesday, August 8, 2018
Break Time
Man, oh man, I need a break. I've got to get something done around here and the smoke just saps my energy day after day. With the best of intentions, I end up sitting like a bump on a log gasping like a fish out of water and little to nothing gets done. The big deal yesterday was getting the trash down to the big road. Whoop whoop. At least Bess and I got the benefit of the A/C for a little while. (Would you like a little cheese with that whine?)
Inga is still hanging in there. It scared me when I found her lying down in her stall in the morning. With some gentle urging, she did get up and go outside, but she had no interest in breakfast. I've seen it happen in the past, but it hurts my heart when an old goat gets bullied. I had a long talk with Sheila yesterday, but I doubt it did any good. I wish the old girl's last days could be spent in peace. It just doesn't work that way. Even when the "herd" is down to two, Sheila intends to be queen.
I go to sleep and wake up again with the taste of smoke in my mouth. Looking out this morning, I can see we're not going to get a break today. Sigh.
Inga is still hanging in there. It scared me when I found her lying down in her stall in the morning. With some gentle urging, she did get up and go outside, but she had no interest in breakfast. I've seen it happen in the past, but it hurts my heart when an old goat gets bullied. I had a long talk with Sheila yesterday, but I doubt it did any good. I wish the old girl's last days could be spent in peace. It just doesn't work that way. Even when the "herd" is down to two, Sheila intends to be queen.
I go to sleep and wake up again with the taste of smoke in my mouth. Looking out this morning, I can see we're not going to get a break today. Sigh.
Tuesday, August 7, 2018
Deja Vu
Some things keep happening. As Yogi Berra said, "It's deja vu all over again." Yesterday there were seven mice in the barrel, but help is on the way (more about that later). I tipped the little twerps out and sent them on their way.
Inga is still not coming in for breakfast, and she is getting bony. In some of the buried treasure I found the other day, there was a spread sheet I'd made of when the girls were born and the kids they'd had. Inga is fifteen years old, at the far end of a goat's lifespan. Over time, I've seen that the old girls get a certain look in their eyes, a kind of disinterest in this world, and Inga has that faraway stare. Every time I go outside now I count heads in the pen, and she is the first thing I look for in the barn. So far, so good. I just hope, when the time comes, that she goes quickly.
Even though it seemed like I'd done it just a few days ago (and I know it wasn't), I had to go into town again. The last stop was at Wally World. Admittedly, I am not a fashion-conscience woman, more interested in comfort than style, and bibbies are my uniform of the day. I can't count the number of times that someone, man or woman, will pass by in the aisle and say, "I really like your overalls," and sometimes we have a conversation. Yesterday it happened again. It was the lady standing behind me in the checkout line. "I came here from Montana and Wyoming, and your overalls remind me of home." I mentioned I started wearing bibbies when I got milk goats. "Oh, you have goats! I used to have a goat. I just love goats!" Bibbies may not be haute couture, but they definitely are clothing of interest.
I got a text from Dave in the afternoon, saying that he and some of the members of the Freed Spirits are coming up on Saturday to help with chores here if that was okay. Okay?! I was jumping up and down! They've come up before and they're like a swarm of worker bees. All I've needed to do was supervise, pointing out what needed to be done, and sometimes I didn't even need to do that. I let Camille know that the fellas would be bringing the chicken feed down on Saturday. Didn't I say I needed a strong male? Their time is such a gift, and their company is pure pleasure. It's a good thing I stocked up on beer yesterday (they work cheap).
It was a good day.
Inga is still not coming in for breakfast, and she is getting bony. In some of the buried treasure I found the other day, there was a spread sheet I'd made of when the girls were born and the kids they'd had. Inga is fifteen years old, at the far end of a goat's lifespan. Over time, I've seen that the old girls get a certain look in their eyes, a kind of disinterest in this world, and Inga has that faraway stare. Every time I go outside now I count heads in the pen, and she is the first thing I look for in the barn. So far, so good. I just hope, when the time comes, that she goes quickly.
Even though it seemed like I'd done it just a few days ago (and I know it wasn't), I had to go into town again. The last stop was at Wally World. Admittedly, I am not a fashion-conscience woman, more interested in comfort than style, and bibbies are my uniform of the day. I can't count the number of times that someone, man or woman, will pass by in the aisle and say, "I really like your overalls," and sometimes we have a conversation. Yesterday it happened again. It was the lady standing behind me in the checkout line. "I came here from Montana and Wyoming, and your overalls remind me of home." I mentioned I started wearing bibbies when I got milk goats. "Oh, you have goats! I used to have a goat. I just love goats!" Bibbies may not be haute couture, but they definitely are clothing of interest.
I got a text from Dave in the afternoon, saying that he and some of the members of the Freed Spirits are coming up on Saturday to help with chores here if that was okay. Okay?! I was jumping up and down! They've come up before and they're like a swarm of worker bees. All I've needed to do was supervise, pointing out what needed to be done, and sometimes I didn't even need to do that. I let Camille know that the fellas would be bringing the chicken feed down on Saturday. Didn't I say I needed a strong male? Their time is such a gift, and their company is pure pleasure. It's a good thing I stocked up on beer yesterday (they work cheap).
It was a good day.
Monday, August 6, 2018
Another Day
Well, so what, Scarlett? It was another day of smoke, although not as hot as it could have been. The coffee table remains shoved aside, although I did get more dusting done. It was a good day (and excuse) to watch NASCAR.
The best, most reliable, indication that the shed rats have moved on was finding six (6) mice in the birdseed barrel yesterday morning. Evidently the smaller kids will not coexist with their larger cousins. I hadn't seen mice in there at all when the big kids were in residence. I have to admit to prejudice. It could be because mice are just there for the food and are not at all as destructive as the rats, but I think mice are cute and rats are just plain repulsive. Because Thing and his ilk were constantly chewing through the plastic barrel of chicken scratch out in the feed barn, I had bought a metal trash can hoping to thwart the marauders. It was working. I had just filled it again when the predator killed all the chickens. I have promised Cam the scratch for her chickens, but neither of us can lift the can alone and, with her surgery, we can't even lift it together. The plan is to ask Beau (or the first strong male to appear) to haul the barrel down to Camille's, hopefully for the price of a cold beer. Whenever that occurs, I'll bring the metal can up to the shed for the birdseed and hopefully that will cause the mice to relocate.
After the race, Bess and I took a ride down to the feed store. Yes, I needed to restock the goat chow, but truthfully it was to enjoy the A/C.
Guess what, it's another day.
The best, most reliable, indication that the shed rats have moved on was finding six (6) mice in the birdseed barrel yesterday morning. Evidently the smaller kids will not coexist with their larger cousins. I hadn't seen mice in there at all when the big kids were in residence. I have to admit to prejudice. It could be because mice are just there for the food and are not at all as destructive as the rats, but I think mice are cute and rats are just plain repulsive. Because Thing and his ilk were constantly chewing through the plastic barrel of chicken scratch out in the feed barn, I had bought a metal trash can hoping to thwart the marauders. It was working. I had just filled it again when the predator killed all the chickens. I have promised Cam the scratch for her chickens, but neither of us can lift the can alone and, with her surgery, we can't even lift it together. The plan is to ask Beau (or the first strong male to appear) to haul the barrel down to Camille's, hopefully for the price of a cold beer. Whenever that occurs, I'll bring the metal can up to the shed for the birdseed and hopefully that will cause the mice to relocate.
After the race, Bess and I took a ride down to the feed store. Yes, I needed to restock the goat chow, but truthfully it was to enjoy the A/C.
Guess what, it's another day.
Sunday, August 5, 2018
Where Did That Come From?
If I didn't trust in the universe, I would have said the sun did not come up yesterday, it was that smoky. I couldn't see the winery on top of the hill about a mile away. If there was one good thing, it was that the smoke was a shield against the invisible sun and it was a much cooler morning. Still, it was a surprise when I was hit with a spurt of ambition and decided not only to vacuum and do some major dusting, but to move living room furniture out to get to areas that haven't seen the light of day for ages. Hit and miss doesn't do it for me. I have to start at one corner of the room and work my way around, and there I hit a snag. All of my furniture is heavy stuff, oversize chairs, solid wood tables, and hard to move by myself. Just turning over a recliner (no such thing as just sliding it out of the way) had me huffing and puffing like The Little Engine That Could. I blamed that on the smoke. Plus, if I was going to do this thing, I was going to do it right. I sorted through papers and magazines that I had put down in the past until I could decide if they were important or trash and never got back to. A lot went into the trash, and, hoping to start a new habit, I didn't just move the rest to some new place, but actually put everything where it belonged. I want a gold star. In order to turn over the second recliner, I first had to move the heavy coffee table, a chore in itself. It's been awhile since that table has been moved and there were deep divots in the carpet under the legs. Here's my handy hint for the day should you find those in your rug: Put an ice cube in the depression and let it melt. It's amazing that such a simple thing will restore the carpet; it's like magic.
Going through stacks of this and baskets of that (sometimes discovering a treasure I'd thought long gone) took time and a lot of my meager energy. I was having a sit-down when I realized that the breeze had kicked up and the smoke was being blown away, and also that it was getting hot again. Only half-way through the room, it was quitting time. As Scarlett said, "Tomorrow is another day."
Same time, same view, different day. There is a thick layer of smoke down in the valley, but we had blue sky overhead.
I hope that unexpected ambition doesn't fizzle out before the living room is finished.
It was a good day.
Going through stacks of this and baskets of that (sometimes discovering a treasure I'd thought long gone) took time and a lot of my meager energy. I was having a sit-down when I realized that the breeze had kicked up and the smoke was being blown away, and also that it was getting hot again. Only half-way through the room, it was quitting time. As Scarlett said, "Tomorrow is another day."
I hope that unexpected ambition doesn't fizzle out before the living room is finished.
It was a good day.
Saturday, August 4, 2018
Tanks, Tees, & Turtles
Doing laundry in some place with year-round temperate weather must be so boring, watching the same light-weight, short-sleeved shirts, etc., come out of the wash. My washing is as good an indicator of the seasons as watching the trees change color or go bare. It's kind of fun as the seasons change and the shirts overlap in the same load for a little variety. Yesterday I folded nothing but tank tops. Just a few loads ago it was tee-shirts, and before that it was turtlenecks. To be honest, since I've worn the same type of clothing (bibbies and shirts) for twenty years now, I can't remember what it was like to wash skirts or dresses and the like. At least nothing in my wardrobe needs ironing.
I find myself at that age and stage in life that the weatherman says is "sensitive to poor air quality." Even though it was only(!) in the low 90s yesterday, there was so much smoke that I was gasping after the slightest exertion, so only piddly chores in the house got done, and those in slow stages. This photo was taken at the same time and in the same place as some of those spectacular sunsets I've posted. If I didn't know it was there, I'd think there wasn't a sun going down out there. The weatherman has predicted delta breezes and relief for the valley today, but unfortunately also said that the wind will not make it this far and that it will simply push the smoke up here to the foothills. Aarrgh.
Friday, August 3, 2018
Just Ask
Yesterday I asked for a break in the weather. Well, ta da!, it was a much cooler, clearer morning, all things being relative. It's too early to tell for sure, but it's possible the rats have abandoned my ship (shed). I see no signs of activity these days. Missy met me at the barn for a pet and bit of breakfast. She's such a will o' the wisp that her visits always come as a surprise. Her food bowl will be empty, but I'm never sure if little Miss had stopped by or the ferschluggen ground squirrels had cleaned it out.
Having had a break in the morning, it was hard to complain when the smoke again filled the air and it was 98 outside and 88 indoors in the afternoon. It didn't stop me, but it was hard. It's kind of nice that Bessie Anne and I are growing old together. We both wheeze as we come back up to the house and neither of us moves faster than at a snail's pace. Any excuse to sit or lie down is a good one, and we take every opportunity for a nap. At the peak of the heat, I took her out and soaked her down, then turned the spray on myself. We both felt better when we went back in.
Oh joy! Last night was the opening game of football season, and it was a close one. Normally, I only watch games when either the Pittsburgh Steelers or the Minnesota Vikings play, but, come on, the opening game? I had no vested interest between the Chicago Bears or the Baltimore Ravens, but I do enjoy the sport.
I have my own way of gauging the temperature without looking at the thermometer; how many times do I have to refill the spray bottle I keep by my chair. Yesterday was a two-bottle day. Regardless, it was a nice morning. I hope it's not too much to ask for a repeat. Please.
Having had a break in the morning, it was hard to complain when the smoke again filled the air and it was 98 outside and 88 indoors in the afternoon. It didn't stop me, but it was hard. It's kind of nice that Bessie Anne and I are growing old together. We both wheeze as we come back up to the house and neither of us moves faster than at a snail's pace. Any excuse to sit or lie down is a good one, and we take every opportunity for a nap. At the peak of the heat, I took her out and soaked her down, then turned the spray on myself. We both felt better when we went back in.
Oh joy! Last night was the opening game of football season, and it was a close one. Normally, I only watch games when either the Pittsburgh Steelers or the Minnesota Vikings play, but, come on, the opening game? I had no vested interest between the Chicago Bears or the Baltimore Ravens, but I do enjoy the sport.
I have my own way of gauging the temperature without looking at the thermometer; how many times do I have to refill the spray bottle I keep by my chair. Yesterday was a two-bottle day. Regardless, it was a nice morning. I hope it's not too much to ask for a repeat. Please.
Thursday, August 2, 2018
Just A Minute
There were a few brief moments of note in an otherwise long day yesterday. Smoke was even heavier, heavy being the operative term here. As I found out later, there are two new fires, one in El Dorado county, adding to the weight of the air. But! for a very short time, the deltas swept through. It took me a minute to realize that what I was hearing was the sound of leaves rustling, it's been so long. And! the breeze lifted the smoke to the point I could see the hills to the southeast that have been shrouded for days. It was exciting! It didn't last long, but I'll take what I can get.
Camille and I share one trash barrel and take turns paying the bill. It was my turn and I went on the hunt for the bill, which is in her name. I knew I had it, but could I find it? I could not. Drat. In desperation, I called the waste disposal company. "Please hold. Your call is third in line." Slowly, slowly we inched forward until the nice lady answered. I had to confess my dilemma and beg for help, as I had no more information than Cam's name and address. "That's no problem. Let me look that up for you. And may I have your name?" "No! I wish to remain anonymous! I don't want her to know I messed up!" Thank goodness the nice lady laughed. Of course, I did give her whatever information it took to get the deed done, and Camille's financial reputation was safe. Whew! And then, later in the day Cam called. "I just received an email saying the bill had been paid, but I don't recognize the card number." I'd been ratted out by a computer! They say confession is good for the soul. Maybe so, but it's darned embarrassing.
The last couple of days I've been on a choreography kick (pun intended), starting with "Footloose." Great music, great dancing, and I love John Lithgow. I hadn't seen it for years. Kevin Bacon was, of course, the star, but Chris Penn stole the show. Yesterday, the film was "Dirty Dancing." Again with the dancing. I'd forgotten how terrific Patrick Swayze was. Those lighthearted films made a nice break from the cop shows that are my usual choice.
Now I would appreciate a break in the weather, please.
Camille and I share one trash barrel and take turns paying the bill. It was my turn and I went on the hunt for the bill, which is in her name. I knew I had it, but could I find it? I could not. Drat. In desperation, I called the waste disposal company. "Please hold. Your call is third in line." Slowly, slowly we inched forward until the nice lady answered. I had to confess my dilemma and beg for help, as I had no more information than Cam's name and address. "That's no problem. Let me look that up for you. And may I have your name?" "No! I wish to remain anonymous! I don't want her to know I messed up!" Thank goodness the nice lady laughed. Of course, I did give her whatever information it took to get the deed done, and Camille's financial reputation was safe. Whew! And then, later in the day Cam called. "I just received an email saying the bill had been paid, but I don't recognize the card number." I'd been ratted out by a computer! They say confession is good for the soul. Maybe so, but it's darned embarrassing.
The last couple of days I've been on a choreography kick (pun intended), starting with "Footloose." Great music, great dancing, and I love John Lithgow. I hadn't seen it for years. Kevin Bacon was, of course, the star, but Chris Penn stole the show. Yesterday, the film was "Dirty Dancing." Again with the dancing. I'd forgotten how terrific Patrick Swayze was. Those lighthearted films made a nice break from the cop shows that are my usual choice.
Now I would appreciate a break in the weather, please.
Wednesday, August 1, 2018
Boy Power
Ta da! Thanks to the Dynamic Duo, the first shed is no longer a house of horror, darn near destroyed by rats and ground squirrels. Ever since the ton (that might be an exaggeration) of acorns brought down the ceiling, it's been a haven for the rodents. Clay and I had cleaned out the acorns, but the furry ones had already put in a change of address card and taken up residence. I got such a kick out of the boys. They had a specific goal, an outing to Great America or some such place, and I knew they were stretching out their time. I didn't mind subsidizing their trip. I was getting what I wanted, too. However, cutting corners wasn't going to cut it with me. They'd say they were done. "Okay, let's go see. Hmmm. What's all that stuff back in the corners? I don't think you're quite done yet." They went back to work. Pretty soon they knocked on the door. "We got that finished." "Umhumm. Let's take a look. Oh my, you didn't move these pieces of drywall and get all that stuff behind out, fellas. I don't want to eat in here, but I don't want to leave anywhere the rats can call home, either. A job isn't done until it's done right." They went back to work. Knock, knock, knock. This time they asked me to come look. "Wow, you did a great job!"
I applaud their parents for giving the boys the opportunity to earn money, but, as Cam and I were saying, it's up to us as employers to teach them a good work ethic. I hope they have a wonderful day today. They earned it.
I applaud their parents for giving the boys the opportunity to earn money, but, as Cam and I were saying, it's up to us as employers to teach them a good work ethic. I hope they have a wonderful day today. They earned it.
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