Noticeable

Percy and Pal, those pesky squirrels in the milking room, have been noticeable by their absence lately.  In fact, there have been no squirrels at all in the goat barn for several weeks.  Usually in hot weather any number come in and take a dust bath or just lie flat out in the shade in there.  I am not complaining, but it does make me wonder what is going on.  The little buggers are prevalent up by the house, standing up on top of the junipers to get a better view, playing tag in the driveway, and their holes are everywhere, so it isn't that the squirrel population has migrated.

Only the first week in August, and I'm noticing that some leaves on the black oak trees are already turning color.  Leaves are falling in the breeze and I'm finding acorns on the ground.  Maybe it's my imagination, but it seems way too early for fall.  We're a month or two out from normal.  Perhaps it's stress from the drought.

I've heard it said that people only notice that you've dusted when you haven't.  It's not like the dust fairy comes and takes on this onerous chore while you're sleeping.  I went through two dust rags while wiping down the bedroom yesterday.  That room always gets left until last, and sometimes not at all.  I can always shut the door to the inner sanctum, and I'm only in there to sleep.  Can't notice dust with your eyes closed.

Cooler weather, up in the low 80s, prevails and I'm grateful.  Noted another beautiful sunset last night.  Busy planning menus for the week ahead.

It was a good day.

As I Was Saying...

Me:  "I've got to get to the feed store today or I'm going to have some very unhappy goats tomorrow."
Linda:  "As well as a lot of mice and ground squirrels."
Me:  "Got that straight!  I am so mad at the squirrel in the feed room.  There is a hole the size of a dinner plate in the lid of the grain barrel for access to the all-you-can eat buffet.  Worse, he doesn't like the way I've arranged things on the shelving in there.  Anything in his way and he knocks it to the floor.  I put it back, he knocks it off.  Right now there are three mailboxes, some hose, jars, and half-empty bags of plant fertilizer all over the room.  It's such a mess."
Linda:  "Umm, the next question would be, 'Why do you have three extra mailboxes?'"

Once upon a time I used to go to craft shows and sell painted items and handmade beaded jewelry, etc., and the feed/store room is crammed with supplies for same.  My own mailbox down on the big road is, I think, rather lovely, decorated with roses and greenery.  When I'm into a craft, I buy way more materials than needed, just in case.  There must have been a sale on mailboxes when I was in that mode, thus - three waiting in the wings.

I had just finished lunch and had to share with Linda the instructions on the soup label.  "Heat until hot."  As opposed to??  Lukewarm?  Unless vichyssoise was on the menu, what nutcase would not heat soup without being told?  Dutifully, I had followed directions and did enjoy the hot soup.

As I was saying, I'm whirling like a dervish trying to get the house presentable.  We're really on the countdown now.  Linda and Luna will be here in what my friend Dan used to call 'two days and a wake-up.'

It's About Time

We've lost about an hour of daylight.  The sun isn't up at 5:30 anymore and it goes down a little after 8 p.m. now, a half-hour off either end.  Whine as I might about the seemingly endless heat of summer, it's difficult to think ahead to the long, long nights of winter when it is dark at 4:30.  There was a wonderful break yesterday when the temperature was only in the mid 70s.  Clay informed me that it was actually sprinkling down in the valley.  We weren't that lucky, but I'll take the cooler day and be glad that I got it.

Normally by this time, I would have clipped Bessie's fur down to a puppy cut to save her from the heat and the burrs that cling and tangle.  In the mix of breeds in her heritage, there has to be some border collie because of the heavy ruff over her shoulders.  Her belly is almost hairless.  Go figure.  When I did decide to give her a haircut, I found that my clippers had quit.  Yesterday Camille brought her set over.  It took awhile to get them working, and then realized there was no guard to go with.  I sure don't want to give Bess a shave; she'd get sunburned!  It remains to be seen if I can clip her before summer is over.

I'm almost out of time before Linda arrives.  I've started the push to clean house, but any interruption is welcome.  I turn the page on the calendar and think, "Oh, that's a long way off and I've got plenty of time."  I always think that and I'm always running late.  Goats are a seven-days-a-week job and without a weekend break, the days run one into the other, slipping by before I know it.  I'll need to make another trip to town to restock supplies; that will take the better part of a day and use up what little time I have left.

Poor Timing

Ralph is not a sit-in-your-lap kind of cat.  He is always busy, busy, busy.  Lately, however, he has taken to lying in my lap, but at the most inappropriate times.  I'm not sure whose side he's on.  I'm a self-admitted procrastinator, but even so.  I will have been taking a breather and then think, "Okay, I'm going to get up and do - whatever."  No more than the thought and Ralph shows up.  Because he comes on my lap so seldom, I don't want to push him off and stamp him "Reject,"so I sit.  It's either a reason to keep moving or an excuse to postpone the next chore.  Either way, it's very nice to be doing head-butts with my boy Ralph, even though his timing is off.

The delta breezes kicked in yesterday, cooling the temperature and clearing the air.  This photo was taken several nights ago when the smoke had been thick throughout the day.  It's hard to breathe and the taste of smoke is always in your mouth on days like that, but it sure makes for a pretty sunset.

My Hero!

Forget the white horses and shining armor.  The knights up here wear bluejeans and ride John Deere tractors and this hero showed up at my door yesterday.  "Mouse," aka Steve, had come to help "the elderly woman."  (That still cracks me up.)  His two very well-trained dogs were riding in the cab, an Australian shepherd and a small, scruffy mixed-breed named Tank.  They were allowed to come down to meet Bessie, who thought those boys were very handsome.  Mouse and I discussed terms and time frames.  The price was right and he was ready to do the work right then, and who was I to stand in his way? The dogs loaded up and off they went on that monster tractor.

The driveway had become a road hazard with cuts deep enough to lose small children and large dogs.  The crown prevented cars from driving up and the ditches could have snapped an axle.  It took Mouse maybe forty minutes to smooth the drive and put a run-off ditch along the side.  Talk about having the right tool for the job!

It cost me a mere pittance (kind man), two beers, and milk bones and water for the dogs.  After Tractor Guy trundled off, Bess and I got in the truck and drove down and back up the driveway, and then we turned around and did it again just because we could!

I recognize a hero when I see one.

It was a good day!

A Fine Feathered Friend

A slight dip in temperature made the trip to town almost tolerable.  I've decided that humidity is worse than straight heat.

Sitting on the deck with Bess later in the afternoon and watching vultures make lazy circles above, it wasn't hard to tell which of the birds had been losing those feathers I've been finding.  It's surprising that this raggedy-winged fellow was still aerodynamically capable.  That fifteen-inch feather on the table gives a pretty good indication of the bird's size.

Camille knows a Tractor Guy who might, just might, be willing to smooth out my driveway which is the next best thing to impassable what with the deep ruts and high center crown.  I've been rat-holing funds for such an opportunity.  She told me she'd explained to Tractor Guy that she knows this "elderly woman" in desperate need.  It took me a minute to realize she meant me!  It's hard to "see ourselves as others see us" (Robert Burns).  Hey, I'll smooth my ruffled feathers and take help when it comes.

No Relief

"Between the rock and the hard place" or "Between the devil and the deep blue sea."  Take your pick.  The morning sky in the east looked promising for a cooler day yesterday.  It did drop a few degrees, but replaced the higher numbers with high humidity and I really don't know which was worse, and no rain fell at all.  The day before I had skipped cleaning the stalls in the barn; the heat had really gotten to me and I figured the girls could stand one night in a poopy room and that was better than me falling over in a froth.  One night yes, two nights no, so like it or not the stalls got cleaned yesterday.  I feel so bad for the goats when I clean their udders with a frigid wipe in winter, but was envious yesterday as I cooled them with those damp cloths.

Ohmigosh!  I'm used to being watched.  It's no surprise anymore to look out the window when I'm at the computer and find a flock of turkeys peeping in.  However, hearing a very noisy bird on the deck rail now and looking out to find a quail was a big surprise.  They are such shy birds that seeing them running in single file on the ground is a treat.  One noisy quail by its lonesome out in the open was almost shocking.  Just goes to show, I never know what I'll see here.

Ordinarily I dislike a trip to town.  I've got to make that run today and I'm actually looking forward to a ride in the air-conditioned truck.  It may be the only relief in sight.