Back to Basics

After the drama of the day before, yesterday was a relief.  It was back to business as usual, all routines in place.  More weeding before starting chores; now the battleground is over by the first shed in front of the house where the iris bed used to be.  After the tank was moved, the guys who deliver propane have dragged their big hose through there and the iris have been decimated over the years.  It's hard to complain, though, as these guys always have a kind word and a doggy biscuit for Bessie Anne.  They probably know the dogs on their route better than the people.  Truth be told, I actually like to weed.  It is a lot more satisfying than, say, dusting.

After his breakfast, I left Twenty-Two to have the run of his play yard and the hallway in the barn.  He still has two bottles three times a day, but I've put down a small bowl of grain for him to nibble.  He's growing at an astounding rate; standing on his hind legs, he can almost see over the top of the half gate to "the pit" (the small nursery stall).  After his dinner bottles, he was curling up in his grain dish before I even left the barn; he may be growing, but he's still a baby.

Chimney Guy, who was due today to inspect my chimney flue, called to say he'd wracked up his truck on a bad road to an outlying customer and wouldn't be able to make our appointment.  (Would we be considered "inlying?")  We rescheduled.

Deb and Craig are once again guilty of an act of generosity and kindness.  I can only hope that, for them, what goes around comes around.

Bess and the cats accompanied me as we watered the deck plants and the vegetable garden in the late afternoon.  Frank had stopped by the feed barn, and it drove the swallows wild.  They make a "weekie-weekie" sound like a dog's squeaky toy and were yelling and madly diving at Frank.  Frank, with his big, blue, crossed eyes just watched them.

Peggy came up for her nightly cuddle as I tucked the chickens in for the night.  It's such a pleasant way to end an ordinary day.