Lost Cause

Some days you just have to wonder "why?"  The front walkway was looking pretty good after the clumps of wild grass were cleared away.  Oaks have been busy covering the herb garden with a layer of mulch, but foot traffic (Bess and mine) kept the path open.  Yeah, and how's that workin' for ya?  Ginger and her two cohorts fly the coop daily and yesterday they ventured into the front garden.  I can't help myself; I love to look out the front door or windows and see chickens in the yard and hear them gossiping among themselves.  TG stopped by to give me an estimate on extending the water line to the trees.  I stepped out the door as he got out of his car.  He got as far as the walkway and said, "Wow!  Did the wind blow every leaf in the county here?"  The walk was wall-to-wall ankle-deep in leaves.  The little red hens had cleared the herb garden and scratched everything into the path.  Why do I try?

There is a success story of sorts, however.  The last few nights at bedtime, Miss Ditz has actually gone into the hen house with the flock.  It takes a bit of coaxing, and she's the very last one, but she does finally come into the pen to join up with the others.  It's not the safest thing to let the chickens free range during the day, but it was the nighttime that really had me worried.  It's been years since I've seen raccoons here, but I know they're out there.  Foxes hunt at night.  Even though she'd tuck herself in a corner on top of a bale of straw, I worried about this little girl alone in the dark.  I breathe a sigh of relief when everyone is tucked in.

Guilt ridden, I dusted.  Then I heard the tractors down the hill at Robert's for the grape harvest and watched the dust roll in.  It's a lost cause.

Heaven And Earth

Last year my niece sent me the most wonderful gardening gloves.  They're made of some space-age material, so thin I can feel the difference between a weed and a "plant," flexible, with a good grip.  The problem is, I don't often set out to do weeding, it's an impromptu thing with me.  After a drizzly start to the day yesterday, Bess and I went out in the afternoon for a walk and a breath of fresh air.  My motivation usually comes after the fact.  Before company comes and I'm rushing around, "good enough" seems the order of the day.  After they leave, I look at the place through their eyes and think, "Oh, good grief, I should have done this, that, and the other thing!"  I get used to seeing things a certain way, so it's not a problem for me.  Stepping off the deck, I actually looked at clumps of tall dried weeds nearby.  With damp soil, they were easy to pull out and didn't take much time.  My girl and I walked on to the drive and into the front yard.  It had gotten way too hot before I finished weeding the lavender bed this year.  "Well, that looks like hell.  What must my guests have thought?"  And I started pulling weeds.  I did think of those wonderful gloves sitting in the drawer, but knew if I broke the momentum, all would be lost.  And so I kept on weeding.  I like weeding.  Who wouldn't like a worthwhile project outside on a warm afternoon, my companion close by and with a view like mine, heaven and earth right in front of my eyes?

No Complaints

The sun played peek-a-boo in the clouds all day.  I could get used to this Goldilocks weather; not too hot, not too cold, just right!  After a spell of inactivity, I needed to get outside and do a little work.  That higgledy-piggledy wild grass the turkeys love had jumped the boundaries of the herb garden and moved over into the walkway.  With a root ball the size of a football, it has to be dug out and the dirt beat out of the mass of fine roots.  It's a chore.  Moving down the path to the side, digging as I went, evidently Bess felt I should clear the front walkway instead and she came and lay down right over the clump I was ready to attack and wouldn't budge.  I know when to follow the supervisor's directions.  Marjoram, yarrow, and thyme have also crept out of bounds, but at least there's a reason to keep them and they're not rampant and they smell good when stepped on.  It was warm enough to work without my jacket on.  Digging and beating, I cleared the walkway of two huge armloads of wild grass before calling it quits.  I sat for a few minutes on the porch in the afterglow of a job well done, watching the army of clouds march up from the valley to organize over the hills behind me.  I had no more than walked into the house when the first roll of thunder came.  Following my instincts, I hurriedly turned on the dishwasher, made a pitcher of hummer juice in advance, and unplugged the computer.  Bang!  Lightning flashed, thunder rolled, and the rain came down in buckets.  It went on and on.  It was late afternoon, but early by the clock for the kids' bedtime.  However, it seemed prudent to put them all in for the night and out of the wet.  Gearing up, I went out in the downpour.  Believe me, there was no hesitation on the girls' part; they couldn't wait to get inside.

Back in the house, I was called to duty and put on my Smokey Bear hat to look for the smoke Cam thought she saw.  Lightning can equal fire even in the rain, but fortunately it was not the case this time.  The truck isn't going to know how to behave; it hasn't been this clean in ages.

With wind changing direction constantly, discretion called for almost closing all windows or getting soaked sills.  I broke down and put the comforter back on the bed before gathering the snugglers last night.  It's hard to believe that a week ago we were sweltering, but a twenty-degree drop in temperature has really chilled the house.  I'm not complaining.  The rain has come at night and doesn't interfere and the days are perfectly lovely.

It was a good day.

Sitting Around

I've been pretty sedentary the last few days, but there's a reason.  The cool weather has made a lap-kitty out of Celeste.  In addition to herding me to the kitchen for treats, she now directs me to my chair and darn near pushes me into it, immediately leaping to my lap and settling in.  She smacked Ralph's face when he thought he'd like to try cuddling too.  With the deliciously chilly nights, my sleeping habits have changed.  Bess jams up against my back, Ralph sleeps on my feet, and Celeste once again picks the prime real estate in the warm curve by my belly.  We're a cozy bunch, but it prevents me from turning over as is my wont.  Ah, well.  As long as they're happy.

It's no longer necessary to be on watch for the King fire.  Rain again last night put a real damper on the dragon (but brought danger of mudslides), and it's wonderful to know that the firefighters are beginning to demobilize.  We're not out of fire season yet, but at least one monster has been put at bay.

The little red hens are running with the big dogs now.  I look out to see them scratching and pecking in the midst of the flock of turkeys under the oak.  They look like puppies amongst dinosaurs.  Two come right to me at bedtime, eager to go in the coop, and Ginger has found her niche on a bale of straw in the hay section of the barn.

Enough of this sitting around.  I need to get something accomplished today.

A Day At The Movies

A steady, gentle, soaking rain fell during the day.  Loving that sound and the feeling of being cool, bordering on cold, for a change, I bundled in a quilted jacket rather than close the windows.  Disinclined to do much of anything, I sat with Celeste on my lap for added warmth and played reruns in my mind of good times spent with Dolly and others who are no longer with me.

Steve and I used to throw parties at the drop of a hat for a coterie of friends known as The Wild Bunch.  None of us had little kids, so no babysitters required.  We celebrated holidays, of course, but some parties were for no good reason at all.  Deb, single at the time, was a member in good standing of The Bunch.  We all went camping together for Thanksgiving and at New Year's (campgrounds are nearly empty then and we had the park to ourselves).  It was at one of our Halloween costume parties that Clay became a welcome addition to the family.  (Like the Man Who Came To Dinner, he came to the party and virtually never left!)  The Millennium celebration was a gala affair.  All women in evening wear and men in tuxes or fancy dress.  Champagne and dancing.  Midnight buffet while listening to Kenny G. playing Auld Lang Syne.  Toasting each other with memories of other good times.  Burying a time capsule on New Year's Day with artifacts contributed by everyone.  Dolly and Dan, Deb, Steve and I used to go to every little local fair in the valley:  the Courtland Pear Fair, the Dixon Lamb Fair, the Yolo County Fair, and every Highland Game, etc.  Just after Thanksgiving, we'd all go down the river road to a Christmas tree farm and pick out our cut-your-own trees, then come home in the blustery weather and have a hot Irish coffee (or two).  The guys played lumberjack closer to Christmas and that was cause for another party.  Poker games; many, many of those. 

My birthday gift to Dolly for years was a two-week vacation up here.  Steve was working, so it was pretty much a girls-only time together, special for both of us.  Deb and Craig were married here, with close to 200 guests expected.  Dolly volunteered, and we spent two weeks before the wedding planting fresh, all white flowers on the deck and in the yard, setting up the bridal arch, and the myriad other details for such an event.  I did all the cooking that could be done ahead for the wedding brunch and breakfast the next day.  Dolly and I laughed like loons, exhausted, and I never could have done it without her.  My God, we did laugh.

The photo was taken yesterday afternoon when the rain Dolly brought had stopped and the sun came out.  Bess and I took a walk, breathing in the scent of newly washed pines and damp earth.  Some of the memories brought tears, but most, like rainbows, brought joy.  I realized I didn't need to say goodbye to my friend; she'll never really leave.  My mother used to say that you live as long as someone speaks your name.  Mother was wise in her way.

Hello, Dolly!

Nothing like putting your guests to work.  Richard had made a very kind offer of help, and we'd planned a particular job for him while I tended to barn chores.  Because of circumstances, that plan went by the wayside but that didn't get him off the hook.  That carefully swept deck was again ankle deep in leaves; that's what we call job security.  As I was gathering buckets, Heidi grabbed the broom and started in.  Poor gal, she got stuck working while Richard walked with me into the drive to watch the gathering of vultures.  "Thanks a lot, Dad."  She did a bang-up job, and then I watched her face as the wind kicked up and more leaves fell right where she'd just cleared.  After lunch and with a long drive ahead, Richard and Heidi packed up, gave me hugs, and drove away.  It was an informative and interesting visit.  Both father and daughter are world travelers with tales of far-away places.

Some things shouldn't be put off.  The remainder of the day was a do-nothing day, and a nap was on the agenda.  Planning a trip to Sacramento today, I rested and recharged my batteries, so to speak.  I needed to get down the hill to say goodbye to my friend who was in the last stages before dying.  I waited too long.  Dolly, of "She Who Brings Rain" fame, died last night.  I had no more than texted a good-night message to her when her daughter sent a text back saying Dolly had just passed.  We've been friends for such a long time, close to 25 years.  We've laughed and cried together, often at the same time.  It's hard to think we won't be making any more fun and wonderful memories together.

Would you believe it's  raining here?  Well, hello, Dolly!

Just Keep Moving

"Goosey Goosey Gander, where shall I wander?  Upstairs and downstairs, and in my lady's chamber."  It's an old nursery rhyme, but it sure fit me yesterday.  Such a flurry of housecleaning!  All done but for - wait for it - dusting the living room before my guests arrived.  Hey, I'm not superwoman.  (I told them it is my guestbook and they could feel free to write their names.)  Why is it, I wonder, that there are always a cobweb or two that hide until visitors come?  I could have sworn I got them all.

Short shrift on the blog this morning.  I need to get a jump start on breakfast.  And, if they sleep in a bit, I may even get some dusting in before daybreak.