Rare Days

"And what is so rare as a day in June?  Then, if ever, come perfect days."  (James Russell Lowell, 1848)

I can't speak to those hot ones, but the last few days have lived up to Mr. Lowell's expectations, weatherwise.  The deltas blew in, blustery at first, then calming to a cool, gentle breeze.  Our walks have been so pleasant and the door is left open day and night.  The whole-house fan hasn't been called to duty, and most days haven't even required the ceiling fan.  Knowing this time won't last makes me appreciate it even more.

Another thing that won't last is this messed-up situation with the required meds.  The plan was to go get an abbreviated prescription after getting the blood draw, without which Doctor would not see me and decide how to proceed.  All this would not be necessary had the lab not screwed up.  Ah well.  Called the pharmacy before leaving the house.  They had not received an order.  Called the Dr.'s office.  "I'll call Dr. and remind him.  The pharmacy will call you."  Waited all day.  I don't know who called whom, but none were to me.  Late afternoon.  "Did you go get the lab work done?"  "No, I've been waiting for the pharmacy to call."  "Oh."  City dwellers don't understand it's about a three-hour round trip to town.  We'll try again today.

Our walks have been leisurely.  Like a weathervane, Michael sits with his nose to the wind when we're outside.  It's as if he's reading the breeze like a newspaper.  I wish he could tell me what it says.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Strange Bedfellows

Having seen any number of animal documentaries in which different species bond and form friendships, yesterday's encounter shouldn't have surprised me, but it did.  There is a chair on the covered part of the deck which Missy has stamped "Mine" and has become her hangout.  It is a padded table chair, nicely pushed under the little table, so it is like her own little protected cave. There were still bits of fur and other remnants from a recent snack on the mat when I stepped out to fill her bowl, so I know she's still earning her keep.  As she always does, Missy emerged for a rub-up and a bite to eat.  That's when I caught sight of other movement.  A large squirrel, possibly Robert the Raider, had been sleeping not a foot away from the cat.  Surprisingly, Robert did not dash away as one would think, but moved a few feet away behind some empty flower pots and laid doggo.  It wasn't until I stamped my foot that he finally took his leave.  Missy took no notice as he ran off.  Now, tell me why predator and prey should be in such close proximity.  It's just not natural.

The other day when I was not feeling well, I was on a phone call that I had to cut short.  "I'm sorry, but there's a horse, no, two horses running loose in my yard."  No, I wasn't seeing things.  Two beautiful brown-and-white pinto horses were making themselves at home here.  Fearing that the fence was broken down again, I called Arden so that she could tell Annie, thinking that some of her herd had gone walkabout.  Bruce came up and took a photo to post on FB.  The horses were not theirs, but it's not unusual for livestock to roam loose up here...pigs, sheep, goats, etc.  The horses were here for quite some time, but I found out later that they eventually returned home.  Ah, the joys of country living.

Celeste wants badly to be Michael's best friend.  She rubs up against him, tries to lick his face, and when we go for walks, I can count on her to be waiting at the door to greet him on his return.  Michael tolerates her attentions.  Go figure.

I'm still drinking enough water that, were it alcohol, would have me reeling like a drunken sailor.  (Why do sailors always get the bad rap?)  I'm well enough so that Michael and I will have to go to town today to finish up the lab work that was postponed.  That's enough to drive ne to drink.

Stay well.  Be safe.

Not-So-Close Encounter

Mr. and Mrs. Claus arrived yesterday, their sleigh loaded with goodies.  Dang the virus!  All of us wearing masks and keeping our distance, no kisses, no hugs, and I haven't seen Deb and Craig since Christmas or thereabouts (seems like forever).  Under no restrictions, Michael got a large dose of affection from Craig, one of his favorites.  It's no secret he enjoys the company of men.  Their bounty included cases of juice and sparkling water, a case of fruit cups, a case of Gatorade (for the electrolytes), and two cartons of yakisoba.  I tell you, I'm set for the duration, if the duration doesn't last too long.  The Kids had things to do so weren't here more than half an hour.  They had driven probably 75 miles to make this delivery...just a thank you doesn't seem enough.  One thing that didn't change was the "Love you!" as they drove away.

I'll bet they hadn't gotten to Mt. Aukum Rd. before I ripped open a carton and put a package of frozen yakisoba in the microwave.  Japanese stir-fried street food, yakisoba has wheat noodles, chock full of vegetables, with a very flavorful sauce.  I could live off that stuff.

A strong wind from the delta blew in all day, but it didn't cool off much here until the afternoon.  How welcome that relief was.  We've been hovering close to or at 90 for days.  Still drinking water like a survivor in the desert, I think I'm on the road to recovery, but didn't do much all day.  At least Michael got in all of his walks.

The one sad note to the day was finding Lonesome Lulu had gone to hen heaven.  She was a dear little thing, the last survivor from the flock BIL Stan had brought up.  We had established a rapport, impossible with that rotten, evil-tempered rooster.

All in all, it was a good day.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Close Call

I'm not much of a one for going to or even calling a doctor, but I knew something was really wrong yesterday.  I will not go into symptoms, but I knew it would not be safe for me to drive, so put in a couple of phone calls.  When I received a return call from the GP's office, I was stunned.  "Doctor wants you to go to the ER immediately.  Doctor thinks you are severely dehydrated."  Oh crum.  I explained why that could not happen.  "Then I think we should call the EMTs and have them take you in."  Oh, no.  Not gonna happen.  Given the current circumstances, the hospital was the last place I'd want to be.  I promised to drink lots of water and hope for the best.  And no, contrary to what seems to be the consensus, I am not stubborn.

Honestly, I could have floated a battleship with all I drank, and slowly started to feel better.  Camille called, saying she was going shopping and did I need anything.  Good friend, good neighbor.  She also offered to bring me some dinner.  When I realized I hadn't eaten in three days, I said yes to that.  (See, I told you I'm not stubborn.)  Wonton soup seemed a good choice, and it was.

My daughter just called and said she and Craig are going to Costco and would be bringing up some supplies today.  I don't know where she gets it from, but it doesn't do to argue with Deb.

Michael got short shrift on our very brief walks yesterday.  We dodged the bullet, and I hope to do better by him today.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Zzzzz

Nothing to report.  We did not go to town.  I slept.  I slept all day and well into the night.  Woke up about 2 a.m. and went to bed to sleep some more.  If this coffee doesn't kick in pretty soon, I may go back to bed.  Move over, Michael.

Stay safe.  Be well.

A Nice Surprise

What a nice surprise it was to have a visit from an old friend.  Joe's daughter is seventeen now, and their family bought goat milk from me for years, since she was a baby.  Joe is doing some work for the couple I bought Lucy and Ruth from, my first two goats and the start of Farview Farm.  Knowing Joe was coming here, they sent greetings.  The porch is becoming my meet-and-greet place.

A surprise of the other kind was a call from the oncologist's office, the one that was so adamant that I get the blood work done immediately.  Yeah, well.  I had told the phlebotomist to draw enough for both of the doctors with whom I have appointments, and she did.  However, the lab failed to perform the one test for...you guessed it...the oncologist.  Michael and I will be going back to town today.  I'm not happy.

Stay safe.  Be well.

Change Of Pace

I need to rethink my daily schedule...what I do and when I do it.  In winter, when daylight comes slowly, it's one thing to spend the early hours on the computer, writing the blog, checking FB, playing solitaire in the dark.  In summer, the sun gets up almost before I wake up and I find I'm losing what cool of the day there might be.  I waste more time watching the local morning news before taking Michael for our first walk.  By the time we're back, the heat is upon us and any incentive to do more is gone.  Old habits are hard to break, but this one needs to go.

I had a taste of home last night, sausage and hominy, a plain but very satisfying dish my mother used to make.  Most of the time Mother was adamant that everything served should be a different color, ensuring a good variety of food groups.  There were exceptions, sausage and hominy being one, German potato pancakes another.  On those nights we gorged on starch, as I did last night.  Steve would have been so happy.  Vegetables were definitely not his thing.  I asked him one night, insisting that he pick a green vegetable.  He gave it some thought.  "Spinach noodles."  Sometimes you just can't win.

If I'm going to keep my new resolution, I'd best get moving.

Stay safe.  Be well.