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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!